#actually wait i retract my earlier statement about loving all of it

[leftmysoulbythesideoftheroad]

one piece is so good and i love it, but if i’m honest, i just want to watch romance dawn and water 7 over and over and over

[apocalypticgargoyle]

I read the edgy!karl, I’ve just finished reading the alt!dream, WHEN IS GEORGE GONNA BE NEXT 😩😩

*cracks knuckles* the hcs that everyone has provided me with has hella prepped me and I'm ready. this is dedicated to 🍭 anon, whose fanart always steals my entire heart. i love u babe

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄. ᶤ 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐤!𝐠𝐧𝐟

± pairings: punk!Georgenotfound x fm!reader

± word count: ~3300

± warnings: smut (18+), language, tattoo work, sadism, pain kink (if you squint), domination, mentions of needles, asphyxiation

song recommendation: Cent Fois by Alice et Moi

George’s mind wandered to his curiosity of the shop across from his tattoo parlor; bright neon signs advertising the local psychic. It was a stark contrast to the dark, wet city housing the businesses. Each night he locked up, he found himself standing on the other edge of the street, staring at the signs and draperies peeking from behind the glass windows and considering shedding his skeptical nature just for one night.

While your business was alluring in and of itself, his true draw to the place came after he had spotted you moving into the apartments above. Your clean appearance completely juxtaposed the business you ran. In his opinion, all natural healers and psychics were born scam artists only focused on the quickest way to pinch a penny.

Yet day after day, he found himself having to tear his eyes from your business just to get home or he would actually venture inside. He was rather subtle about his fascination when it came to his co-workers and regular customers, but each day he prayed you would wander in, requesting some kind of tattoo in a place hidden from outside eyes.

A place he’d like to see again in a less professional setting.

You flipped the textbook page after finishing your paragraph, highlighting a date you were looking for before leaning towards your notebook and scribbling down the fact. You gnawed on the end of your pen absent-mindedly, positive you still didn’t know what your professor had been rattling off about in class a few hours prior. Your sights drifted up to the incense burning across the store from you, the stick on its last few centimeters of wood as the smoke went stale.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, debating if you should light another or wait until morning. You capped your marker and stretched your back, the bell over the door letting out a telling chime as a man peeked in.

You leaned over the counter, closing your books. “Good evening! Welcome to After Life. Can I help you find anything?” You rambled, your mind flashing to the sheet of paper tucked into the frame of your bathroom mirror so you didn’t forget the basics of customer service.

The man stepped further into your view, stuffing his fists in his jean pockets as he walked closer in a cautious motion. His dark t-shirt advertised a band you had vaguely heard of, but couldn’t think of a song even if your life depended on it. What really drew your attention were his tattooed arms; branches from a grand tree twisting every which direction to peek out from beneath his sleeves; bright floral designs and litters of birds decorating the dark wood limbs. You bit back a smile at the small mushroom tattoo near his wrist that seemed to be out of place.

The laces of his Chuck Taylors grazed the floor before he was standing in the middle of your store, looking around briefly. “I actually co-own the parlor across the street. I realized I never welcomed you officially,” he stated, hints of nervousness reflecting in his tone. His accent was calming and husky from the season change.

At the mention of the tattooist across the street, your memory flashed to the various walks of life that found themselves in your store after getting work done. You also thought of the fact that you had seen the man before you break up fights in the street stretching between your properties. The tall muscular people seemed to have no effect on him as he’d pull them apart like school children on the playground.

You pushed your books further to the side. “Oh yeah, that’s right! I should have come over and introduced myself, so don’t worry about it,” you eased, swatting the air of his comment.

He chuckled softly before reality seemed to snap into his head, making him step forward and extend a hand to you. “I’m George, by the way,” he introduced. You took his hand, muttering your own name and hoping your attention span would hold for long enough that he would be entered into your long-term memory.

His hand was calloused in yours, something that you wondered came with the job or if he was some kind of carpenter in a past life of his. You gently pulled his hand closer to you, slipping your hold out of his to look at his palm. He tittered nervously, peering at the flesh with you. Your finger traced along the mounts in his hand, finding Jupiter to be the most prominent. “That checks out,” you mumbled to yourself, nodding softly.

His eyebrows perked up. “What? Am… Am I gonna meet a tall dark stranger and take a trip across the sea?” He joked, making you smile as you looked at his Sun line.

“I didn’t peg you as an Outlander fan,” you chided.

His brows flattened for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip and playing with his snake bite piercings. You found it hard to look away from him. “Honestly, I wasn’t. A girl I was fooling around with really liked it. I don’t know…” he trailed off, making you giggle.

Your nail grazed along his heart line. “You guys were just fooling around?” You quirked, eyes meeting his. His expression narrowed smugly as if urging you to continue. “Your heart line begins below your index finger. You’re not the fooling around type.” He let out a snort. “You fall in love easily too.”

He sighed with a slight sparkle in his eyes as he looked at you. You couldn’t tell if he was amazed or mocking you again. “Well, yeah. That’s…” He paused with a swallow, biting back a grin as if he was uncomfortable, but didn’t retract his hand from you. “... That’s why we’re not anymore,” he admitted. He leaned his elbows on the counter as you sat in your chair. “What else does it say?”

Your lips curled into a soft smirk, his curious eyes trailing over your face as if to watch your brain work. “You have a fire element hand which indicates that you’re confident and passionate. Maybe a bit cocky sometimes,” you teased, making him chuckle with you. You could feel his eyes on you, sending heat to your cheeks as you tried not to focus on the mount of Venus under your touch.

You wanted to ask him about his sexual indulgences, mainly because of the prevalence of Venus in his palm. “You have a mount in Jupiter, which means you’re a natural leader, and rather dominant.” You looked up at him again, watching as he bit back a smirk, seemingly understanding the subtle innuendos behind your statements.

George seemed to have some kind of effect on you, your thoughts clouding with the idea of what his snake bites would feel like against your lips. He smelled like cigarette smoke, but there was no discoloration to his skin to suggest he was the one smoking. He watched you through the hair threatening to dangle over his eyes, his gaze hinting at an attraction he had for you below his collected form. “Go on,” he murmured, voice soft and wispy as the space between the two of you seemed to warm.

You made a conscious effort to keep your sultry thoughts at bay as your thumb brushed over the area you had been avoiding telling him about. “You’re driven by desire,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… very in touch with your sexuality and you thrive on your indulgences.”

You couldn’t help but meet his eyes, the dark irises swimming with some kind of cocky smugness at what you had just told him. He pulled away from you, gently standing up. Part of you wished the counter between the two of you would vanish just so you could be pressed up against George at the mercy of his driven mind. “I feel it's only fair I tattoo you now,” he quipped, making your eyebrows raise. Your confidence shriveled yet you swore you wouldn’t let him know that fact.

You chewed on your lip, looking up at him with a hint of suspicion. “Oh, I’ve never been tattooed,” you avowed, voice carrying the slightest bit of your coaxing nature.

He smirked. “I’ll take care of you, I promise,” he cajoled, teeth playing at his piercings again as you were sure he was already undressing you with his eyes. “You read me, I’d like to do the same.”

And how could you refuse such an appealing offer?

You leaned back on your elbows, your skin sticking to the leather chair beneath you as you watched him pull back his hair, elastic band dangling from his white teeth. Despite securing back his locks, bits of his bangs still hung over his forehead. You liked the interior of his parlor, maybe because it was only the two of you.

George began to fill small caps of dark ink. “I think you should get some crystals in here,” you teased, making him smirk. “I could hook you up.”

“What, like a salt lamp?” He joked, pulling on a pair of dark plastic gloves.

You snorted, lying back and looking up at the ceiling. “It might be good. Lighten the place up a bit.” George swiveled his chair closer to you muttering some kind of line about only getting them from you, but his words fell silent on your ears as his hand pushed up your shirt. You were silently thanking whatever divine force above for swaying you towards slinkier lingerie earlier that morning.

You knew he could see the lacy edges of your bra by the way his eyes nonchalantly flashed up to you before laying out his template on your ribs. You could feel hints of his warm breath against your skin as he studied it. “You can look at it if you want,” he stated.

You shook your head, wanting him close to you as long as he could be. “I trust you,” you muttered, your eyes meeting his again. His tongue pressed against his cheek as he struggled not to smile at your statement. He had promised to cover a small scar for you and by the way he explained it, you were ready to be in his hands. You wet your lips as he adjusted the speed on his tattoo gun. “Will this hurt?” You asked, tucking one of your arms behind your head.

The look of unadulterated lust that he gave you made your toes want to curl. “Probably a bit. It feels good sometimes, though,” he answered. He came closer to you, resting his forearm on your stomach to angle himself in the right position. At the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, you swore your body was on fire. It took everything in your power not to moan. It could have been the adrenaline pulsing through your veins, but his soft breath and the anticipation of the needle made you feel like a junky. “I’ll be gentle, darling,” he leered, his accent muddy and low. He let the needles drag against your skin and you bit your lip, trying not to hiss at the pain. His eyes met yours. “See, not bad.”

You let out a breathy wheeze. “Shut up, you sadist,” you quipped, his chuckle coming out rather roguish as he focused on the work in front of him. Your nerves were more focused on the way George’s hands were barely caressing your body as if teasing and hinting at what he could do to you.

You drew in a sharp breath as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Shhh shh. It’ll be over soon,” he cooed, his voice sending goosebumps spreading across your body as his lips tugged into a light smirk. By your palm reading, you knew he was enjoying having this much control over you.

Part of you found it almost torture when George would look at you with soft and lusty eyes for merely a second before his gaze jutted back down to his work, murmuring soft praises about how well you were taking the pain. You would go under the needle anytime he asked, just to receive the sultry treatment he gave.

He was so close, you could have driven your fingers into his dark hair if you wanted. “How did you get this scar?” He asked, cleaning off some of the ink before continuing.

“A knife fight,” you answered without missing a beat, making him scoff. “Actually, I fell into my grandma’s glass table one time. My cousin was teaching me the Electric Slide,” you corrected, making him laugh, shaking his head slightly as he filled in a spot.

He let his tongue dart across his lips. “That’s so cute. Did you ever get it figured out?” To this you shook your head, the both of you laughing. You let out a groan as the needle dug into another area on your ribs, the sound making his eyes dart up to you. He leaned off of you, slipping one of his gloves off. “Wanna hold my hand, sweetheart?” He joked, but you took his offer, squeezing his hand in yours when it got painful enough. You held it close to your chest, hoping he would feel your heartbeat quicken each time he looked at you.

As he finished up his work, his thumb brushed against your hand absent-mindedly. You could tell by the way he gripped your hand as well that he enjoyed that the tattoo hurt you. Most of your mind was excited by how easily he was stirred up by you, while the rest was completely unsurprised and even threatened to bite out that he was a cliché.

When he was finally satisfied, he cleaned you up and stuck on a SecondSkin, biting back a grin at his work as he pulled you up by the hand he was holding onto you with. You couldn’t help but smile at how excited you were to see, swinging your legs over the side of his hair and walking towards his mirror. You held your shirt up, chewing on your bottom lip as you grinned at the ink. George rested a hand beside the mirror, watching you beam at his work.

All of his lines were flawless, your scar completely disappearing within his shading. You’d pitched the idea of an ode to the Creation of Adam. While it was cliche, what better to fit in the space below your breast and give George the impression that you were cultured. Yet you told him he could do whatever he wanted to it, resulting in one of the hands resembling a skeleton and the other holding a sucker. As you praised him, he shrugged off your comments, murmuring about it being his pleasure. He reached out his free hand, letting his thumb smooth over one of the edges of this bandage, which brought you closer to him.

Your cheeks warmed at the close proximity to him as his eyes grazed over your body before meeting your own. His hand moved from the bandage to your back. You leaned on your toes, pressing your lips to his. The tension between the two of you dissipated as he hungrily reacted, pulling you against him and savoring your moans as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

George’s hands moved down your body, swiftly hooking around your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist to bring you back to his chair. Your hands moved into his hair, letting it loose and wrapping the band around your wrist. The leather was cold as your back pressed to it. George leaned back to pull his shirt over his head, revealing more of the tree painting the expanses of his skin.

If you weren’t so eager to be touched by him, you’d be studying the work of art.

As his lips met yours again, you ground your hips against his, eliciting a moan to vibrate through his chest. You raked your nails down his back, trying to further draw out reactions from him as his hands attentively played with the lace of your bra, fingers ghosting over the skin pressing against the cups.

His lips left yours only to travel the length of your jaw and inch his way toward your waistband. Your pants were discarded with a swift tug from him before he pulled your thighs flush against his, grinding his hips against yours, hands gripping onto your sides to keep you in place. You tilted your head back, relishing in the friction as your body screamed to finally feel him take advantage of you.

You reached between the two of you, tugging at his zipper as your hunger for him escalated. His tongue flattened against your collarbone before his teeth pressed into your skin. You could feel his arousal through his jeans at the sound of your whimpering.

He pumped himself in his hand before pressing into you, the feeling of him inside of you making your head spin as if you were on some kind of ecstasy. Your moan came out needy and desperate as he thrust into you, gripping the edge of the leather seat as his breath hummed against your skin. Your fingers threaded into his hair, raking your nails down his neck as he groaned in your ear at the feeling.

One of his hands grasped your wrists together, pinning them above your head while the other wrapped around your throat. His eyes burned into yours as he leaned back, leaning his weight on your wrists and squeezing your throat, the lack of oxygen making each of your senses more heightened as he pounded into you.

Your moans of George’s name were grated as they slipped through your mouth, his relentless pace and intense hold nearly making you drool from the stimulation. By the practice of his actions, you wondered how long he had been stewing on demolishing you in this way.

He loosened his grip on your neck, leaning down to press his lips against yours, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip just to hear you groan from the rough action. You rolled your hips against his, letting him slow his pace to reach deeper within you. A sadistic grin spread across his face as he rubbed a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the makeup smudging around your eyes from his antics and the heat between the two of you.

He pressed his lips to your neck, wrapping his hand around the edge of the chair again to drive himself into you, the new angle muddling your mind and vision as your body ached to come undone. You sank your nails into his back, earning his low, raspy whispers of your name.

At his praises, you came, tugging on his hair as he bit into your shoulder again, basking in the feeling of you clenching around him.

The next day, George stretched his shoulders, peering through the front window of his shop. His mind sparked with the feeling of your legs around his waist and the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips. He could practically hear you whimpering his name in his ears as he went back to touching up a fading tattoo on his friend’s arm.

“OW, George,” Clay rumbled, thigh flinching at the jab from George.

George snorted, his mind still on the high he got from your pure trust in him as you laid out on his chair. “I’ll give you something to bitch about,” George grumbled, releasing just how gentle he was during your tattoo. The way your voice got soft and quiet when he rolled over a spot that was rather tender already would most definitely be a guilty pleasure of his.

Clay barked at him again as George jerked his hand, fulfilling his promise. “I’VE BEEN NICE TO YOU ALL MORNING.”

Tag List: (to be added, follow this link :))

@karlkitten @more-like-reyna @honk-izzie-was-taken @marrymetheonott @froggyy06 @savingpluto @marshmallow-babe @drunkpumpkincake @little-gremlin-in-the-walls @tinyegg @mintmochiii @clubfairy @aroyaldarknessblr @camerondiaz48104 @madsbbg @rat-poisin @alm334 @cdizzlevalntyne @phsychopathetic @froggerrrr @robinslie @jemalovesmarvel @sbi-is-my-onlysanity

[tobesolonely]

apartment 41

hi y’all! this is my very VERY late submission for @meetmeinfleetwood​ ‘s “To Lovers” challenge (thank u miss sadie for even still accepting this LOL) but here is some good ol fashioned strangers to lovers with the line, “will you stay the night?” . :D enjoy everyone!

warnings: mentions of alcohol, intoxication, smut :)

word count: ~5.2k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

There were many things you loved about living on your own. You loved that your apartment was always clean. You loved that at the end of a long day, you could come back and brood in peace. You loved walking around in nothing but your underwear without the fear of anyone seeing you. You did things when you wanted, how you wanted. As a self-proclaimed introvert, there was nothing you loved more than living by yourself.

However, during slightly inconvenient moments like these, you wished you had someone else in the apartment with you.

You swore you’d been trying to get your favorite jar of pasta sauce open for at least the past ten minutes. It had been a long day at work, and at the moment all you wanted to do was heat the entire jar of sauce, boil a bunch of pasta, and call it a night. You were growing beyond frustrated–– you even contemplated just breaking the jar open. Ultimately, you decided against it lest you be met with a mouthful of glass.

Feeling defeated, you pick up your phone in frustration and hurriedly punch in your father’s number. The phone rings twice before he answers. “Hello? What’s up, hun?”

“Dad, what should I do if I can’t get this jar open? Like, it’s seriously glued shut,” you set it down on the counter probably a little too hard considering it was a glass jar. “I’m so hungry.”

“Did you try running it under hot water?”

You did.

“Hm. Try getting a good grip on it with a dish towel or something?”

Of course, you did.

“Well, I’m not driving over there just to open a jar for you,” your dad pauses. “You have neighbors, don’t you? Why don’t you knock on one of their doors?”

“Isn’t that weird?”

“No weirder than asking to borrow a cup of sugar.”

You thank your dad for the suggestion and hang up with him shortly after. He was right. You just needed someone to quickly open the jar for you and then you’d be back in your apartment, secluded from society until the next morning when you went into work. Besides, you’d been in your apartment for roughly three months now and you didn’t have a relationship with any of your neighbors. You figured now was as good a time as any to at least meet the person who lived directly across from you.

You slide on your slippers and clear the few steps it takes to reach your neighbor’s door. A faded ‘41’ was on their door, and a cheeky mat that read, ‘Did you call first?’ was at your feet.

You tried racking your brain for any memory of what your neighbor may look like, but you were drawing a blank. You were more to yourself than you initially thought you were and made a silent vow to become more social from this point on. You situate the jar of pasta sauce under your arm before placing two firm knocks against the door. Moments later, the door is flung open and you’re met with the smell of something delicious cooking, and a handsome, tall man donning a dirty apron.

“Hi, is everything alright?” he has a concerned look on his face as he looks over the top of your head and into your apartment.

“I— This is a little embarrassing,” you mumble, feeling your body grow warm. “I live by myself and I’ve been trying to get this jar of pasta sauce open for at least twenty minutes and I can’t. Do you think you can?”

His mouth slowly turns upwards into a smile before finally nodding, reaching out his hand to grab the jar of pasta sauce from you. “It’s pasta night at your place too, hmm?” His tongue is poked out of the corner of his mouth as he focuses on the task at hand.

“Yeah,” you reply. “I’m just gonna heat up the entire jar of sauce, boil some spaghetti noodles, and call it a night.”

The pop! of the jar causes you to jump slightly. “That doesn’t sound like very good pasta.”

You retrieve the pasta sauce from him, quietly thanking him. “It gets the job done.”

Your neighbor hums in agreement. “‘M sure it does. If you ever wanna taste some really good pasta though, y’know where I’ll be.”

“I do,” you nod. “Well, thank you again. I’ll let you go back to making your pasta sauce that is just way better than mine.”

He lets out a loud laugh. “I appreciate it. It wasn’t any problem at all, I’m here most evenings if you ever need help opening anything else, uh…” He trails off.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N. Beautiful name. I’m Harry, by the way.”

You look down at the dirty hallway carpet, a wide smile on your face. “Thank you, Harry. It was nice to finally meet you, by the way.”

“You too. Have a good night.”

You give him one more smile before turning on your heels and walking back inside your apartment, gently shutting the door. You quickly look out the peephole and catch him just as he’s closing his door, a dimpled-grin on his face.

It was Friday night when you finally got the chance to speak with him again. You were sitting on your kitchen stool nursing a glass of wine and waiting for your frozen pizza to heat in the oven when you heard someone coming down the hallway. As you had been doing all week since your interaction with Harry, you set your glass of wine down and shuffle over to your peephole, eyes scanning the small amount of hallway that was visible.

Harry comes into view seconds later, four overflowing bags of groceries precariously balanced along the length of his arms.

“Fuck.” You hear him mutter to himself. He attempts to reach in his pocket for his keys but once he realizes he can’t do so without setting at least one bag of groceries down, he lets out a loud huff in what you assume to be annoyance. You scuttle to your shoe rack and slip your shoes on before quickly flinging your door open.

“Hi! Need help?”

Harry jumps and you both watch as the contents of the bag he was getting ready to set down spill at his feet. “Now I do,” he’s already picking his groceries off the floor. “You scared the shit out of me. Also, were you watching me?”

Your face grows warm. “I heard someone coming down the hallway so I wanted to see who it was.”

“Oh, really?” Harry questions, pausing to look up at you. “You came out of your place so quickly, felt like I was bein’ watched or something.”

You know he’s teasing you but you can’t help but feel a little embarrassed that he caught onto what you were doing so quickly. Instead of dignifying his statement with an answer, you bend down and begin helping him pick up his spilled groceries. His hand grazes yours lightly as you both reach for a can of black beans, now slightly dented. It lingers for a moment before he retracts it to retrieve a different item. A quick, side-eyed glance reveals that his cheeks are tinged red.

“What are you making for dinner?” You ask him, standing up and dusting off the knees of your leggings.

“Uh, veggie chili. S’one of my favorites–– hey, is something burning?”

Your eyes widen and you abruptly turn away from Harry without so much as a goodbye, hurrying toward your kitchen that was starting to grow foggy from smoke produced by your oven. You were so preoccupied with helping Harry gather up his spilled groceries that you had totally forgotten you had a frozen pizza in the oven and if the smell was any indication of its current state, it was most likely inedible at this point.

Reaching for the oven mitt you kept next to the knives on the counter, you open the oven and fan the smoke out of your face, holding back a gag from the burnt smell. Your fire alarm immediately goes off once you open the oven and Harry appears a second later, a concerned look on his face. He looks around for your smoke detector and once he sees it he stands on his tiptoes to turn it off. You set your now blackened pizza on top of the oven and turn on the microwave fan. Harry’s already opening windows around your apartment, fanning the air with a throw pillow from your couch.

“Thanks,” you mumble, a wave of embarrassment washing over your body. You feared that Harry probably thought you were the most incompetent person on this planet–– first, you couldn’t get a jar open, and now here you are nearly setting your apartment on fire. “Guess I should’ve set a timer, huh?”

“Yeah, ‘spose you should’ve,” he replies. “It’s okay, though. ‘M about to get started on dinner, you can join me? If you’d like, that is. Maybe you’ll have a new recipe so you can stop eatin’ all this frozen shit.”

“Leave my frozen foods out of this,” you playfully scold him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Thank you for the invite though, that would be great, actually. I’m gonna get this cleaned up and then I’ll be right over?”

“Sounds good,” he neatly situates your pillow back on the couch. “I’ll see you in a bit, Y/N. Door will be unlocked.”

Once Harry’s gone, you move into action, quickly tossing the pizza into the trashcan before running to your bathroom. You try to remember if you brushed your teeth earlier that day but you can’t, so you brush them again just to be safe. You hastily examine yourself in the mirror before deciding you weren’t going to do anything more, not wanting to come off as trying too hard. You were almost one hundred percent certain Harry was just being neighborly–– nothing indicated that he found you attractive, so you didn’t want to make it too obvious that you found him to be the most stunning man you’ve ever seen in your life.

Locking your door, you clear the distance from your welcome mat to his in five steps flat, and take a deep breath before letting yourself in.

It didn’t take long for you to realize that Harry had more skill in the kitchen than an everyday home-chef did. He all but floated around the room, chopping with ease and finesse. The two of you had settled into a comfortable silence as he worked and you watched. Billy Joel played softly over his Bluetooth speaker, and he’d occasionally stop what he was doing to take a sip of his wine and look over his shoulder at you, almost as if he was checking if you were still there because you were being so quiet.

Your head was starting to grow fuzzy as you finished your third glass of wine that night, so you make the (responsible) decision to cut yourself off for the night. “Can I have a glass of water?”

“Course y’can,” he replies quietly, not stopping what he was doing. “Give me just a second and I’ll get ya––”

“Oh, I can get it myself. Just tell me where the cups are.”

Harry stops chopping and turns completely to face you, an amused look on his face. “You’re plastered, aren’t ya?”

“No? Why do you think that?”

Harry laughs. “You can’t hear yourself stumblin’ over your words, but I can. Jus’ stay right there and I’ll get your water. You want ice?”

“How do you know how to cook so well?”

“Culinary school,” he responds coolly. “Ice?”

You’re not sure if you are as drunk as Harry says you are, but you were currently finding the fact that Harry went to culinary school the coolest thing ever. “A chef? No way! What kind of chef?”

“I’m a Sous Chef. Gonna give ya a bit of ice.”

“I can’t believe I live across from a chef! No wonder you were giving me shit for eating canned pasta sauce,” you take the glass of water from Harry’s outstretched hand, thanking him. “Even your water tastes better than mine!”

“I think you’re just pissed, Y/N,” Harry responds, eyes crinkled from smiling. “Do y’like cooked carrots?” Your nose wrinkles in response to Harry’s question and he mutters something about how he’ll leave them out before turning back towards the stove to check on his food.

“How old are you, Harry?”

“Just turned twenty-seven. Yourself?”

“I’m twenty-four!” You exclaim, a little too excited. “Where are you from?”

He turns to look at you, eyebrow raised. “England. What gave it away?”

“Your accent.”

He hums, a small smirk on his lips. “Where are you from?”

“I’m from here. Just moved back home from my college town but didn’t wanna move back in with my parents, so here I am.”

“No roommates, you said?”

“Nope,” you pop the ‘p’, taking a big gulp of water. “You don’t either, do you? I just realized I haven’t heard or seen anyone else since I’ve been here.”

“I do not. I had a roommate when I first moved in but he ended up gettin’ engaged and moving in with his fiancée, so it’s just me for now. I think I like livin’ on my own better, though.” You watch as Harry reaches into his cabinet and retrieves two bowls and starts spooning your dinner into them. He sets the bowl in front of you and hands you a spoon, nodding at you to try it.

You bring a spoonful up to your mouth, blowing a few times before shoving it into your mouth. Your eyes widen at the amazing flavor that fills your mouth, and your eyes diverge to his. “This is incredible!”

Harry looks down at his bowl of food, a shy grin on his face. “Thanks, Y/N. Glad you like it.” He grabs his glass of wine from behind him and moves around to the other side of the island to sit next to you.

“Are you a vegetarian?” You ask, mouth full.

“Somewhat. I’m a pescatarian,” he shovels a spoonful of the chili into his mouth. “More wine?”

“I better not,” you reply, mind still fuzzy from all you’ve drunk throughout the night. “This is seriously so good, Harry. You’re cute, you can cook, you’re nice… you’re like, a triple threat!”

“Callin’ me cute?”

“C’mon, you know you are,” you answer boldly. “I’m just stating the obvious.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” he takes a sip of wine. “You’re a pretty big looker yourself.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“You flirted with me first.”

“So what if I did?”

Harry lets out a quiet scoff, going back to eating his food. After a moment he says, “I wouldn’t mind.” You smile to yourself and continue eating, bringing the bowl up to your lips and tipping your head back so you could get every last drop of Harry’s veggie chili. He gets up to get another helping of food as you get up to place your bowl in the sink, lifting your sleeves to wash it.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says as he brushes past you, going back to where he was previously seated. “I’ll clean up later. Do y’want some dessert?”

“I think I will take some more wine,” you grab the bottle from the center of the island along with your glass, pouring a generous amount. “This is good. Nothing like the cheap bottles I get from Target.”

“I’m glad you like it. Thought I’d pull this one out tonight, always pairs well with dishes like this…” He trails off. “Anyway, yeah. Glad y’like it.”

You and Harry finish off the bottle of wine no more than thirty minutes later, having by now situated yourselves on his couch. He turned something onto the television (you think it was Iron Chef), but neither one of you were paying any attention to it. Harry was asking about what you studied in college, how you like your current career and your favorite things to do in your free time. You were asking him about England, his family back home, and why he chose to go to culinary school.

He has a way about him that captivates you— just completely pulls you in— and you never want to stop listening to him speak. Harry leans close to you when you talk, almost as if you’re telling him a secret that he doesn’t want to miss out on.

“I think ‘m jus’ as drunk as you are now,” Harry whispers, letting out an adorable giggle. “Goin’ into work tomorrow is gonna be a proper pain.”

“No one told you to try and outdrink me!” You yell, tucking your knees under your bottom. “Now we’re both drunk, what good does that do?”

“Think it’s more fun this way, don’t you?” Harry lets out a little burp, his face flushing. “Wanna help me clean the kitchen?”

“What happened to cleaning it later?” You stand up from the couch, wobbling slightly before catching your balance.

“Well, I didn’t think we’d get drunk off our arses and sit here talkin’ til one in the mornin’, did you?” He stands up as well, his hand moving to rest on the small of your back as he scooches past you.

“There’s no way it’s that late,” you retort, checking the time on your phone. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to overextend my stay. I’ll help you clean this place up and then get going.”

Harry swats a hand in front of his face, shaking his head. “Overextend your stay? Of course y’didn’t, more than happy to have you here. Do you wanna wash or dry?”

“I’ll wash since I don’t know where anything goes.” You move to the sink and roll up your sleeves, moving the small number of dishes in the sink all to one side so you can fill the other side with water. Silence falls over you again as you clean the dishes from dinner and soon enough you’re done, drying your hands on your t-shirt.

“Thank you, Y/N. We make a good team, huh? Got that done quickly, didn’t we?” He folds the dishtowel in half neatly and hangs it over the handle of his oven.

“Yeah,” you yawn, slipping on your shoes that had been discarded earlier in the night by the door. “I’ll get out your hair and let you get to bed, then. Thank you for having me over and for cooking that delicious dinner, I enjoyed it. I owe you.”

“If it’s frozen food, don’t worry about it,” he jokes, moving to open the door for you. “If you want to cook me something, though…”

“How about I take you out for dinner? I stay out of the kitchen, and you’ll get something edible and halfway decent. A win-win?”

Harry laughs. “‘M lookin’ forward to it. Goodnight, Y/N.”

“I couldn’t decide between Italian or sushi but since you’re a pescetarian, I figured sushi was our best bet.”

Harry looks away from the menu and at you, clearing his throat before speaking. “That was really thoughtful. Surprised you remembered considering how loaded you were.”

“For the last time, I was not that drunk,” you defend yourself, gently kicking his calf from underneath the table. “By the end of the night, you had way more than me!”

“Maybe so,” he replies nonchalantly, looking back at the menu. “Let’s not forget who can handle their alcohol better, though.”

You let out an indignant hmph, and get to scouring the menu yourself. You didn’t eat sushi very often so you figured you’d probably just get whatever Harry got.

“Let’s do sake bombs.”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “Sake bombs? Are you tryin’ to get me drunk again?”

“They’re fun! Just one?”

Harry shakes his head at you and grins before waving over the waitress, asking her politely for two sake bombs. She comes back a few minutes later with the alcohol and chopsticks balanced precariously on a tray, setting them in front of you and Harry respectively.

The waitress stands back and says, “Ichi… ni… san… sake bomb!” The two of you pound the table until your shot glasses fall into the cup and then you throw your heads back, chugging down the cocktail. When you finally finish chugging your drink and look back up at Harry, he’s staring at his watch as if he’s been waiting for you to finish for ages.

“Oh, you’re finally done? I was startin’ to grow old,” he teases, taking a sip of his water. “Do you know what you wanna order?”

“You’re annoying,” you reply, narrowing your eyes at him. “But I’m gonna get whatever you get.”

“Really? You don’t have any preferences?”

You shake your head. “I don’t eat sushi very often so I honestly don’t know what I should get. I’ll try anything, though.”

“You really did pick this place just for me, didn’t you?” He has a teasing tone to his voice, but his gaze has softened.

“I told you I owed you, didn’t I?”

At this, Harry just gives you a small smirk and signals the waitress over once again to order for the both of you. While you wait for your food to come, you fall into easy conversation with Harry again. It seems like you can talk about anything under the sun with him–– no topic was off-limits, and nothing was awkward. He had to have been one of the most interesting people you’ve ever met in your life. He was well-traveled, knew several languages, and loved to sing and write music in his spare time. Although you felt your own life was rather boring in comparison to his, he made you feel just as accomplished and interesting as he was.

“That was good,” he tells you after you’ve both finished eating, wiping his mouth with his napkin and slouching in his chair slightly. “Think ‘m gonna need to unbutton my pants here in a second.”

“Me too,” you answer with a laugh, making eye contact with the waitress. You mouth, ‘check, please’ and she nods, reappearing at your table with the check. As you’re digging in your purse to pull out your wallet, Harry reaches over and grabs the check before you can even look at it. He reaches in his pants pocket for his wallet and slides his card in before you’ve even looked back up.

“What are you doing?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Did you forget that I’m the one that owes you?” He shrugs.

“You can make it up to me another way. Don’t worry about it,” his voice is low and gravelly. The waitress comes back to collect the check from Harry and after he receives his receipt, he reaches into his wallet to place a cash tip for her on the table. “Ready to get home?”

Home. You know he only worded it that way because you live directly across from him, but you would like going “home home” with Harry, at least for tonight. There was no denying the sexual tension between the two of you was electric–– anyone who was paying attention to the two of you could probably sense it. You wordlessly nod and follow Harry out of the restaurant, intertwining your fingers with his when he holds his hand back for you to grab.

He stands on the curb and expertly hauls a cab, opening the door and gesturing your in ahead of him. Harry’s hand moves to rest on your leg as he makes small-talk with the taxi driver, asking him if he was having a busy night and how much longer he thought he’d be out for. Harry pays the cab fare and wishes the driver a good rest of his night before all but dragging you out of the taxi.

“What’s got you in such a rush?” You ask Harry, a teasing

“Oh? Did I misread the situation? I thought–– this is embarrassing, never mind…” his tight grip loosens on your hand but you pull him back into you, laughing at how adorable he was.

“Harry! I’m joking, I know what’s going on,” you rub your thumb across the top of his. “I was just messing with you.” You see him visibly let out a sigh of relief.

“Don’t mess with me like that, Y/N!” You’re still standing outside of your apartment complex in the dark, as close to one another as you can be without completely melting into each other. He releases his hand from your tight grip and places it gently on your face instead. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

“Please,” you reply breathlessly, standing on your toes. Harry cranes his neck to meet your lips and presses them to yours softly, pulling back only when the both of you are near gasping for air.

“Was that nice?” He asks, thumb caressing your face. Your noses are pressed together and you just nod, still too breathless to speak. “Maybe we can take this inside, then?”

Once inside Harry’s apartment, he nearly rips off the new shirt you bought specifically for your date with him, discarding it by his door.

“Careful with that,” you mutter, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I just got that today. Tag is still onnit.”

You feel Harry laugh into the side of your neck, walking your backward towards his couch. “I’ll cover the cost if it’s ruined then, how’s tha’?”

Harry sucks harshly on your neck, causing you to let out a low moan. “I guess that’s fine.”

“That’s fine?” Harry mocks you, guiding you onto the coach. You hum in agreement as you sink further down into the couch, letting out a sigh of bliss as he peppered kisses along your breast.

Your movements are needy— desperate. Neither one of you were trying to hide how badly you wanted to fuck the other. Harry smashing his lips onto yours once more, his breath warm and tongue salty from all the sushi he had earlier consumed. He attempts to pull his own shirt from his body while not breaking the kiss, and you let out a satisfied hum when he succeeds. Now you’re both shirtless and the only thing stopping you from fucking each other proper is being still fully clothed on your bottom halves.

“Can we get these off?” You ask, tugging at your own bottoms. Harry helps you pull down your tight jeans, struggling slightly to get them off your sweaty legs. Once your jeans are off your underwear follows immediately after, carelessly strewn around the room like the rest of your clothing.

“Y/N…” Harry hungrily takes the sight of your body in, eyes darkening with lust. “You might be the death of me, did ya know that?”

“I do now.”

He sucks on his index and middle fingers and lowers them down to your core, slipping them inside you with ease. You hadn’t realized how wet you were until Harry was knuckles deep, curling his fingers tantalizingly slow inside of you. “Do ya?”

You bite down hard on your lip, nodding at Harry’s rhetorical question. “Obviously.”

He flips the two of you over, so that you’re now straddling him and he’s laying below you. “Take what you want, then–– oh wait, condom?” You nod and move as Harry digs around in his pants, pulling out his wallet.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys that keeps a condom in their wallet.”

He rips it open with his teeth in one swift motion and unbuckles his pants, giving himself a couple of quick strokes before sliding it on. “What if I am? Was quick and effective, wasn’t it?” He rests his hands on your hips and pulls you back on top of him, connecting his lips with yours again. “Now you can take what you want.”

Your hands move up to grip Harry’s shoulders as you slowly sink onto him, wincing at the stretch and burn an unfamiliar partner sometimes brings. You make eye contact with Harry as you take a moment to adjust to his size, noting how his grip on your hips gets even tighter.

“S’big,” you mutter, rolling your hips slightly. Below you, Harry squeezes his eyes shut. “So big.”

“Tell me how badly you want it.”

“You already know. Don’t feel like being teased.”

Harry juts his hips up to meet you slamming down onto him, groaning out loudly from the pleasure the added motion brings. At one point he situates himself so he’s sitting straight up, using his left hand as a support for him to rest back on while his right hand is tweaking at your nipples. He’s letting out a slew of curse words, letting you know it felt just as good for him as it did for you.

“Ridin’ m’cock so good,” he says under his breath, bringing the hand that was playing with your nipples to rest in between your legs. Whenever you slam back onto him you feel him not only deep in the pit of your stomach but also on your clit, bringing you maximum pleasure. “Don’t be so quiet, let me know when ‘m makin’ you feel good, love.”

“I’m already close,” you admit, feeling a bit embarrassed at how it took Harry doing next to nothing to work an orgasm out of you. Well, not literally–– but it felt like it. “Feel s’good inside me, you’re so big.”

Harry lets out a low moan from your words, throwing his head back in pleasure. It hits the arm of his couch with a quiet thump but his pace doesn’t falter in the slightest. “You’re gonna make me cum if ya keep strokin’ my ego like that.”

“You asked for it,” you reply, changing your move from riding to grinding as you were starting to grow fatigued. “I’m close.” You remove your hands from his shoulders and let them roam the expanse of your body, wanting nothing more than to receive maximum pleasure.

“Can feel ya squeezin’ ‘round me,” Harry says, taking his lip in between his teeth. “Know you’re about to come, pet.”

"Harry..." you warn, your movements growing more desperate and sloppy. You weren't normally a selfish lover but your head was so clouded from pleasure, all you could think about at the moment was your release. Harry leans his head back on the couch again and now uses his two free hands to bring you to orgasm–– one is rubbing circles on your clit and the other one is gripping at your breasts as you use your last bit of strength to swivel your hips on him.

You're coming undone not ten seconds later, loudly moaning out the man's name who laid under you. You don't slow your movements, knowing he was right behind you.

"Y/N, fuck, 'm gonna come-" he lets out a low, guttural moan, coming immediately after announcing it.

The sounds of you trying to steady your breathing are the only sounds that fills the room as you both come down from your respective highs. Harry runs his hands along your bare body, eyes hooded from the orgasm that just wracked his body. As you’re beginning to uncurl yourself from Harry, he grabs your hand, pulling you back down.

“Will you stay the night?”

You didn’t know what sleeping with Harry meant for your relationship going forward, but you were glad you knocked on Apartment 41. 

[echos-newlegs]

Hello There! I was wondering if you'd write 11 an 13 for Tech, please? I may request some other stuff for my favourite bad batcher and maybe even Rex later, but if you did that one i would be so happy!!! Have fun writing!! “I think I may be falling in love with you, and it scares me.." + “I just wanted an excuse to hold your hand.”

What's with you?

Bro he has been on my mind non stop since I read this request. He is literally so cute and I love him. He needs more love 😔 so thank you for sharing this and yes, yes I will be writing a story about this because these ideas you have are ADORABLE-

Tech x Reader: "I think I may be falling in love with you and it scares me.." + "I just wanted an excuse to hold your hand."

Warnings: nothing but fluff

You and Tech out of the bad batch were two of the closest. You were a no body before you met the bad batch. You studied things, a scientist of sorts. Though nothing official. You did do a lot of things when it came to researching and trying to come up with theories for why things happened. Plus you were good with your hands when it came to building things. So, instinctively. Hunter took you in, along with everyone else.

You didn’t really have a family. Where you grew up you were lucky you were still even alive. Though, Tech was obviously thankful. He cared for you so much. Even just the after the first time you spoke with him. You were shy at first, but after some warming up you were rather obnoxious. Plus. You knew your stuff, and the two of you could have a conversation on everything and anything for hours on end.

Useless information was your game, and you loved that you finally had someone to share it with.

It didn’t take long for you both to develop feelings. You were both fairly good at hiding it though. You were never one that was good with expressing feelings. The fear of abandonment and ruining the friendship you had always lurked in your conscious.

Tech was just scared. He had never felt this way before. Sure he’s had a couple hookups from 79’s, but never anything that mad him feel like you do. How you make him smile anytime even just a thought of you crosses his mind. How he gets butterflies in his stomach from just your laugh.

Or how his mind lurks and picks up the things you like. From how you enjoy your caf, to your favorite candies or flowers.

Or the thoughts that lurk within his mind when he’s alone and no one else is around.

He was so scared of all of it though. He was a clone. A defective one for Makers sake! He couldn’t like someone when his sole purpose in life was to fight and then be killed off like every other clone on existence. No thought to it, no remorse. No remembrance.

Though, one day when Hunter caught him staring at you while you were target practicing with Crosshair. Hunter told him something that made him a little less scared of the whole ordeal.

“You know it’s okay to like y/n, right?” Tech was shocked by his words. Blush creeping up the back of his neck. “Ah-what? I don’t- don’t be ridiculous.” He would stammer. A nervous chuckle escaping his lips. “Vod, don’t lie to me, I see the way you look at them.” He spoke, “I can sense the way you both feel for each other. Why don’t you do something about it? Live your life, enjoy what you can.” And before he could protest or ask anything Hunter was walking off. Leaving him to ponder.

Both.

It was simple. But it had the gears in his brain turning. Fast enough he nearly felt nauseous. ‘Both? As in y/n has feelings, too?’ He had to be kidding, right? Right. Who would like someone like.. Well like him.

Weeks had passed since that incident and he still thought about it. Hunter shooting him looks when it was just you and Tech talking to one another. Or when you two would sit next to one another. You hadn’t noticed, but Tech did.

So one day out on the field, Hunter had set up the plans where you went with Tech. Tech knew what he was trying to do. He was for sure it wouldn’t work. He was horrible with words when it came to flirting. Plus he knew for a fact that he would get nervous and stammer. Or jumble his words.

The two of you were in a lab like area. Bottles and beakers scattered around. Though your guy’s main interest was the large computer system towards the back. The data base that had all the information you guys needed.

Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair were out being your distraction while the two of you got to work on hacking into the system. You taking over for a bit while tech worked on something else. You could tell he was nervous, but you weren’t sure why. It wasn’t like him. He was normally always comfortable around him. It made you wonder if you did something wrong?

Once the files were transferred Tech grabbed what you two needed, and then your hand. Pulling you out of the room and back to the exit.

You were internally screaming. His fingers laced around your hand. His was a bit larger than yours, and you had never realized it. Not until now. Your heart racing a marathon. Techs was, too.

You let go when he did. Which was when the two of you made it back to the group. “You get it?” Hunter asked, and you nodded. Tech speaking a quick, ‘affirmative.’ You and the rest of the boys heading out of the facility and booking it for the ship.

No use sticking around and waiting for more droids to be deployed.

Hours had passed since the mission, and you were sitting on your bunk after a short shower. You normally were able to relax in the shower, but now? No, you couldn’t. You were still in shock by Techs actions. He was in the cockpit. Flying the ship, and you wanted to ask about it so badly, but you were anxious. It had to be a mistake. You were overthinking it. You had to be.

Though, you were walking to the cockpit without thinking. When you realized it you were already at the door. No use turning back now. You entered, and saw him dozing off in the seat. Ship in hyperdrive. “Oh sorry,” you blurted when he looked up with a tired gaze. “Oh, no, you’re fine.” Tech spoke a bit quickly. “Did you need something?” He asked, moving his goggles to rub his eyes. Then pulled them back down.

You were tempted to back out. Say you were just looking for him and head back for your bunk, but your curiosity got the best of you. “Can I sit with you?” He nodded. Shifting in his seat as you sat in the copilot seat. The door shutting behind you.

He was watching you now. His own curiosity striking him. Thoughts running through his own mind as to why you were there and what you wanted. “I just uhm.. you licked your lips and sighed. Looking down to your hands. Which were fidgeting in your lap. Then back to him. “Why’d you grab my hand earlier?”

You saw him freeze up, and you grew more nervous. “I mean, I don’t mind but you just- you’ve never grabbed my hand before.” You spoke, fidgeting more. “You always just tell me to follow you, I was just wondering, is all.” You rambled. Looking to his eyes, you could practically see his brain turning.

“Well..” he spoke, clearing his throat. Then turning to look back out the front of the ship. “In all honesty, y/n, I just wanted an excuse to hold your hand.” The bluntness of his own statement shocked the both of you.

You were surprised, and you caught yourself staring off into space, figuratively. Eyes looking back up to Techs face when he looked back to you. Catching his eyes with your own. “Really?” You asked, and watched as his tanned skin turned nearly pink. Your own skin it’s own rosy shad as well. “Yes, I’m sorry.”

You frowned a bit at the apology. Reaching over to place your hand on his shoulder. “Don’t apologize, Tech.” You added, watching as he looked down to your hand then back to your face. “I told you, I didn’t mind.” You grew a bit sheepish. Retracting your hand a bit at your next words. “I liked it, actually.”

He reached up to grab your hand before you could pull it away fully. Turning in his seat to face you completely now. Squeezing at your hand a bit and you looked back with a curious gaze. “Really?” You smiled at the look of hope and shock written in his eyes. “Yeah, really.”

You both stared at each other like love sick teens. Until tech looked down to your hands. Breaking the gaze. “Can I tell you something now?” You nodded, watching as he played with your fingers anxiously. “Of course, what is it, Tech?”

“I think I may be falling in love with you,” his voice was softer and more timid than before. “And it scares me.” He looked up to you, with worried eyes. You were at a loss for words, to say the least. Mouth slightly agape, and his eyes lowered again.

“I went too far, didn’t I? I didn’t mean to upset you,” he let go of your hand and you reached up to place it on his cheek. Shaking your head with a small smile. A smile that screamed, ‘I love you, too.’ “No, Tech, you didn’t go too far. Tech, I think I’m, no— I know I’ve fallen in love with you. I’m just,” you trailed off. “I’m not the best with stating feelings, I have had issues with past relationships and I didn’t want to scare you.” You admitted, and he leaned into your touch. Watching you carefully.

“I’ve just never met anyone else who makes me feel the way you do.” The words made you melt. Leaning forward to hug the other, kissing his cheek. “Well, I’m glad you told me,” he chuckled. Pulling you out of your seat and over to sit on his lap. Nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “If I waited any longer Hunter would have went insane.” That made you chuckle a bit. Smiling softly as he placed a chaste kiss to your shoulder.

“What does this make us then?” You pulled back to look at him, grinning softly as you rested your head against his forehead. “I guess.. an item? Is that what they call it? Partners, lovers..” your trailed on, and he giggled a bit at that. “I like lovers,” you were internally squealing at that. Smiling as he leant in and pressed a short and soft kiss to your lips. Humming contently. “Lovers it is.”

[drspencerweed]

Safer to Kiss

Summary: [Y/N] is new to the BAU, and Spencer’s avoidance of handshakes backfires a bit.

WC: 2073

Content: fluffiest fluff, mentions of kidnapping/violence (typical bau stuff)

A/N: I haven’t written fluff for Spencer yet, so I hope y’all like this! 

Masterlist

read on ao3

I wasn’t nervous about my first day at the BAU. Sure, it would make sense if I was, but I had been working my entire career to get on this team. It was where I belonged, and I knew it. My interview process with Hotch had been a breeze, and I was ready to start the next step of the process: working my first case with the team. It was just preliminary, I was still in my probationary period, but I knew it was going to go well. I was over prepared for this job. 

So I wasn’t nervous. I was ready. I met Hotch in his office that morning, ready to do paperwork until a case came in. But he greeted me with a nod and held up a case file. 

“Round table, now.” He said, and I followed him out into the bullpen. The rest of the team was already in the room, waiting for us. 

“Hello everyone. Meet a potential new member of our team, Agent [Y/N] [Y/L/N]. She’ll be joining us on this case in a probationary manner.” Hotch introduced, and I was greeted with six smiling faces. Immediately I was drawn to the most attractive man in the room. He was sitting down, but I could tell he was tall, lanky. His hair swept over his forehead perfectly. I didn’t let my attention linger there for long however, as I didn’t want to make my attraction obvious. Luckily, one of the other agents jumped in and turned me away. 

“Derek Morgan.” The muscular man to my right said, holding out a hand. I shook it with a smile. 

“David Rossi.” The next man said, again holding out a hand. Around the table they went, introducing themselves. Agent Jennifer Jareau, JJ. Agent Emily Prentiss. Penelope Garcia. Then finally - the man who had so quickly caught my eye. 

“Spencer Reid.” He said with a nod. 

“Doctor Spencer Reid.” Morgan corrected with a nudge. Reid rolled his eyes, and a flush reached his cheeks. It was cute. And he was a doctor? I might have found my dream man. 

“Nice to meet you,” I greeted, holding out a hand to shake. His flush grew deeper, and he cleared his throat. 

“The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss.” He informed me, nodding and smiling. I retracted my hand with a smirk. 

“If you wanted to kiss me, you could just say so.” It was out of my mouth before I could help it, the snarky retort something that I would say to any one of my friends. But I probably shouldn’t say it to someone who is technically a superior. I shut my mouth quickly and cleared my throat. Morgan let out a loud laugh, and Garcia chuckled. Reid looked shocked, his face turning a bright red and his eyes going wide. He started stuttering. 

“I-I wasn’t, that’s not-” 

“Pretty boy, stop while you’re ahead.” Morgan teased. Hotch looked at all of us disapprovingly, while Prentiss, Garcia, and JJ all smirked at Reid. 

“Sorry,” Reid coughed into his hand, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He said, looking me right in the eye. I smiled at him. 

“You didn’t.” I sat down in the only seat available, between Reid and Morgan. “Pretty boy?” I asked Morgan. Reid tried to jump in to defend himself but Morgan held up a hand to stop him. 

“I mean, am I wrong?” Morgan teased. I looked back at Reid and gave him a deliberate once-over while he blushed. It seemed he hadn’t stopped blushing since I walked in the door. Before I could answer, Hotch cleared his throat. 

“Garcia, let’s get started.” 

Reid avoided making eye contact with me throughout the whole briefing. The only time he so much as looked at me was when I brought up the fact that the unsub’s overkill could be related to abuse in his own past. He only looked at me to bring up a statistic about how most serial killers who use overkill actually know their victims. I realized I may have taken the joke too far. 

I was determined to make him more comfortable around me, as I worried that my statement from earlier had intimidated him. Even if nothing happened between the two of us, I needed him to like me. I wanted the whole team to accept me. 

~~~~

The case went swimmingly. We caught the bad guy and saved the man he had kidnapped just in the nick of time. For the entire week we had been working on the case, Reid and I had spent very little, if any, time alone. It was like he was actively avoiding me. Morgan called him ‘Pretty boy’ very often, and I learned it was just something they did. And I completely agreed with him, Reid was a very, very, pretty boy. I had to work hard to keep my eyes off of him when we were working in groups. He was just so attractive, and every rambling statistic spew made me more and more attracted to him. 

I was developing a devastating crush, and fast. 

We were boarding the plane to go home, and I purposefully sat across from Reid. Everyone else petered off to take naps, and quickly fell asleep, but not Reid. He took out a hefty novel and began reading at his exponential pace. I watched him for a few moments before taking out my laptop and browsing the internet. After I was sure everyone else on the flight was deep asleep, I shut my laptop and sighed. 

Reid looked up at the sound, and met my eyes. He made a questioning face. “Is something wrong?” He asked, lowering his book. 

“No, I just wanted to apologize.” 

“For what?” He seemed shocked, and closed his book and put it to the side. 

“For what I said at the round table. I know it made you uncomfortable, and you’ve been avoiding me this week because of it. I didn’t mean to come on so strong.” I said. His eyebrows raised, and a flush started climbing up his throat. I quickly realized the implications of what I said, and began back-tracking. “Not that I was trying to come on to you, in any way, but uhm. I especially didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

Reid nodded and took a moment to take in what I said. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable.” I could tell it was a true statement. He still wouldn’t meet my eyes, his hands twisted into each other on the table, and he seemed endlessly intrigued by their movement. But even with his body language betraying him I could hear the sincerity in his voice. 

“But you have been avoiding me?” I smirked slightly as I said it. I noticed his absence of a denial to that specific accusation. He bit down around a smile at my call out. He looked up to meet me in the eye for the first time since we met. The hazel was striking. I smirked at him. 

“I guess you could say that.” He said, letting his lips turn up. “But not for the reasons you think.” 

“For what reasons then?” I asked, intrigued. I couldn’t think of any other reason he would be avoiding me. His flush travelled up his neck to his cheeks. He coughed slightly and glanced up at me. He still wouldn’t meet my eyes, his eyes falling on my lips and then going back to his hands. 

“You-” He started but cut himself off, bunching his lips together nervously. I chuckled a little and gave him an inquisitive glance. 

“Go on, I’m curious.” I prompted. He smiled and shook his head almost imperceptibly, but I caught it. He mumbled something under his breath, speaking so fast and so low that I couldn’t make it out. I quirked my head to the side, leaning forward in my seat. “What was that?” 

“I said, uhm. You make me nervous.” He confessed, meeting my eyes quickly and then looking away again. I sat back in shock. Me? Make this man nervous? He was a literal genius, surely he knew how attractive he was. Not that I thought he was out of my league, by any means, but I expected him to be fairly confident in himself. For christ’s sake, his best friend called him ‘Pretty Boy’ more than he used his name. And yet, there was proof in front of me that the confidence I assumed he had was non existent. 

“Am I that loud?” I asked with a laugh, trying to deflect what I thought he meant by ‘nervous’. He was attracted to me, wasn’t he? I hadn’t yet decided what I wanted to do with that information. It would make sense to ask him out, but I kind of liked the idea of teasing him without his knowledge. He seemed easy to fluster, and I loved flustering people. 

He burst out laughing at that, shaking his head in disbelief. “No, no. It has nothing to do with loudness. You’re just, uhm. I’m not used to people like you.” 

“People like me?” 

He coughed into his hand and licked his lips. “Pretty. Confident. Forward.” He listed the adjectives quickly, counting them on his fingers. I smirked at his admission. 

“So you think I’m pretty?” I smirked. He stuttered, trying to backtrack, but he knew he had been caught out.

“I-I just, yes, of course! But not like.... you’re objectively attractive! And subjectively, of course, but it’s not to say that I- that you-” He stammered out. I kept smirking at him as he dug himself a bigger hole. Finally I took mercy on him, reaching across the table and placing a hand over his. 

“It’s fine, Reid. I think you’re objectively and subjectively attractive, too.” I said with a smile. His eyes shot up to meet mine, his hand flexing underneath my grip. 

“Y-You do?” My heart melted for the sweet boy in front of me. How could he not know how attractive he was? He started on another rant. “I know that, scientifically, I have good bone structure, but I’m quite awkward which usually discredits whatever symmetry my face has.” I reached out and grabbed one of his hands in mine. It barely spooked him and he kept rambling. “More symmetrical faces are typically perceived as more attractive, but you probably already knew that.” He kept glancing between my eyes and our hands. Our fingers weren’t interlaced but our palms were pressed together. 

“I did know that. I also know that you’re cute.” I squeezed his hand when he shook his head with a small smile. Suddenly I realized that our hands being together went against his no handshake rule. I went to pull away with a muttered, “Sorry-” But he just squeezed back and held me there. 

“You really think I’m cute?” He asked skeptically.

I smiled widely. “Yes, I do.” His eyebrows raised and he shook his head in disbelief. I simply grinned at him as he tried to wrap his head around the idea that I could possibly be attracted to him. It was such a sweet sentiment it made me blush. I leaned forward in my seat a bit and reached out for his other hand. I was feeling bold. “So are you gonna ask me on a date or would you rather me do it?” 

He smirked up at me shyly. “Would you like to get dinner with me when we get back?” He asked, interlacing our fingers. 

“I’d love that.” I answered, squeezing his hand. The smile he gave me was so bright and brilliant it made my own face light up. 

“Yes, Pretty Boy, get some!” Morgan said from next to us, apparently not as asleep as I had thought. I laughed out loud as Spencer flushed down to his neck. Morgan smirked and winked at the two of us. 

Our fingers stayed interlaced throughout the rest of the flight as we talked in hushed tones and got to know each other. Every word out of his mouth made me fall a little deeper, a little faster. It was way too soon to call it love, but I knew it could get there. The little seed in my heart was growing exponentially, and the way his thumb danced over my skin didn’t help it.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I always appreciate likes/reblogs/comments/etc! Also if you’d like to be added to my taglist just message me or comment on this! (If you’ve made it this far here’s a secret: there might be a sequel to this fic if enough people want it :)) 

taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​ @rusticreid​

[19gumi]

WHEN THE SUN SETS | KUROO TETSUROU

Summary: Kuroo hates the way he can never tell what’s on your mind (and also, you eat your cherries ridiculously slowly)

Genre: Fluff (childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining)

Word count: 1.8k

Porcelain plates now stained with chocolate are neatly tossed to the side, bearing the remnants of the croissants Kuroo treated the two of you with. Secluded in your favorite part of the park, you try to get one last whiff of the sweet pastry that you ate a little too quickly for your liking, making a mental note to pay that bakery another visit soon.

The final beams of sunlight graze your face as you observe the birds above you, hurrying to find a shelter before the rosy sky hues turn dark blue. You’ve missed their renowned song – the winter fell into a silence after their departure, sometimes too deafening when paired up with the freezing December cold.

Your field of vision is obstructed by a muscular arm reaching for the cherries in the bowl placed beside your head. You observe his Adam’s apple move as he swallows the fruit, eyes focused on the horizon sprawled in front of him. And then they suddenly shift to your figure, your head soundly placed in his lap.

“You okay?” he asks, thumb rubbing circles in your shoulder.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Dunno. You seemed lost in thought.”

You’re about to respond when his body abruptly shifts under yours, the motion prompting you to sit up straight. Kuroo’s hand flies to the back of his head, and you assume he’s received a hit to it.

That is shortly proven to be true when a distressed mother shouts after her son who you don’t even notice at first, standing a foot away from the two of you. His arms are folded behind his back, lips pouting as his eyes search for the ball he had previously been playing with.

Kuroo’s furrowed brows shift back to their original shape, face muscles relaxing as he takes in the sight of the kindergartener. The mother pants as she approaches the two of you, crouching down next to the child that you assumed wasn’t more than 5 years old.

“Hi, I’m very sorry to have caused-“

Kuroo swats his arms in the air. “It’s not a big deal really, didn’t even hurt.” He then smiles at the kid, extending his hand towards him. “Nice to meet you. I’m Kuroo.”

The kid buries his head in the crook of his mother’s neck as a response, refusing Kuroo’s handshake. She spots the ball and sends him off to pick it up, sighing deeply.

“He gets shy sometimes,” she chuckles, scratching her forehead.

Couple of more apologies and one goodbye later, the sun now long hidden and the moon greeting you (this time only one half of it), Kuroo wishes he could take a peek at your mind.

He knows that’s not possible, though, leaving him with the only option of staring at the side of your face, alluringly illuminated under the evening sky. Admiring the faint glint in your eyes, he sighs when he realizes he is about to go to bed with the same unanswered questions another night in a row.

Kuroo is too lost in the way his fingertips itch to sink themselves in your cheeks, his body starving for that addicting warmth of yours – the one he sensed once for the first time many years ago and never wanted to let go of again.

You turn your head around unreasonably quickly – he’s unprepared and so, so exposed. The look in his eyes is soft, way too soft for you to have a full view of it. He hasn’t said a word, but the faint burning in the pit of his stomach convinces him he’s spilled the most tender secrets of his.

“You know,” you begin, reaching for the bowl with cherries behind you. You chew painfully slow, he thinks, the time that it takes for you to swallow the cherry seeming like an eternity.

“That child from earlier,” you continue at last, fiddling with your hands in your lap. “He reminded me of myself when I was his age.”

Kuroo doesn’t know what he was hoping for, but your words do cause a change in his stance. “How so?”

And there you are, flashing him your signature smile one more time. The enigmatic one, the exact one that he’s been trying to decipher unceasingly.

The same one that causes him to miss serves in practice.

The one that keeps him from entering the world of his dreams at night, but also the one that makes him feel like he’s living the sweetest fantasies of his when he gets to see it up close.

“Just like the birds we watched earlier, the pink sky alerts everyone that it’s time to find a shelter for the night,” you glance at him, to which he nods, prompting you to continue. “My mom would always tell me to go straight home once the sky changed colors, and you know I always followed that rule.”

“Yeah, I remember going home and sulking during dinner because I didn’t get to spend more time with you.”

He mouths an ‘ouch!’ when you poke him in the ribs, clutching at his chest. “Dramatic much?” you chuckle, rubbing circles in his back.

“Anyway,” you continue, retracting your hand. “Sometimes I’d lose my toys just like that child from earlier did, but I wouldn’t have enough time to look for them. The street lights would already be turned on and I didn’t want the monsters to catch me.”

Kuroo lets out a hearty laugh. “Monsters? What monsters?”

You shift your eyes towards your hands, which he sees as a chance to inch closer, just enough for him to feel your shoulder against his.

“Dunno,” you say. “But I knew once I’d reach my mom’s arms that I was safe. She’d always nag at me for forgetting to wash my hands – when in reality I didn’t, I always remembered to do it. But I guess I craved that noise which served as an additional proof that I was secure between the four walls of my room, when the silence of the night was the loudest.”

“Well aren’t you a poetic one [name],” he teases, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

A hush descends between the two of you. Kuroo can feel his lips bruising as he chews on them, unsure whether to verbalize the words that could possibly hint at the desires he held close to his heart.

In the end he does it anyway. “It’s way past sunset now, though. So why,” his voice cracks, before he swiftly disguises it as a cough. Or at least he tries to. “Why aren’t you rushing to get home? What if as we speak, the monsters are actually coming to get you?”

It’s your turn to stare at his side profile now, your pulse forming an unsteady rhythm in your throat as you study the slope of his nose, unsure of what was about to come next.

A confession? Were you really ready to ruin a decade long friendship just because rather than playing catch with him you wanted to kiss his lips instead?

His question is silly, you aren’t that eight year old child anymore – the one who’d run away and leave their friends in the street the same instant the clock stroke seven-thirty.

It’s way past seven now, air breezy and short of any sunrays piercing through it, but not even the scariest monster in this world could make you budge from the tranquility surrounding you in this very moment.

It’s almost as if the thought of a life without Kuroo Tetsurou horrifies you more than anything else that’s out in the wild, waiting for you.

“That’s what I was wondering too”, you sigh. “It might be because you’re here.”

And just like that, your secret is disclosed; it’s a simple statement that makes your lungs feel lighter, the burden of having to bear it within your chest for so long now easing with every exhale you take.

He gulps. The arm around your shoulders seems to have become stiffer, too. He’s already close enough for you to feel his breath on your cheek and all you wish for is to lean into his embrace, all of this talk turning your eyelids heavy.

“But I was there all those years ago as well. What changed?”

“Well, for starters, I was what, eight years old?” you scoff, meeting his eyes momentarily before you let your head fall on his chest, inhaling deeply. You have yearned for the scent of the fresh new leaves ever since they wilted last October. “I guess I wasn’t in love with you back then, Tetsu.”

It’s silent. You think it’s unfair – everything you’ve built over the years rapidly slipping through your fingers, just because of one sentence full of longing, anticipation. But then his arm travels down to wrap itself around your waist, the other one finding its way to the nape of your neck.

It’s not the first time he’s heard those words leave your mouth - his imagination has deceived him multiple times already. He’d wake up only to find himself clinging onto his pillow, providing enough heat to trick him into thinking it belonged to you.

However, your scent is way too real for everything to be fake this time around; it simply can’t be. The words he’s been longing to hear are there, the confession lingering in the air only for him and the trees around you to know.

All it takes now is for you to learn his answer, even though the way he’s pulling you into his body gives you an idea of what it might be.

“Do you know why I never went home before you did?” he asks.

“Mm. Why?” your voice is muffled by his hoodie, the vibration sending chills down his spine. He’s convinced now. This is truly his reality he’d always been wishing for.

“Because you were there,” he tilts his head, moving your chin so you can look up at him. He’s grinning, and if he didn’t just admit he was in love with you, you’d probably be now telling him how lame you thought he was. “I couldn’t understand it then, the way your presence made me feel at peace. I realized what it was only when we started high school. I didn’t want to say anything, though.”

“So?”

“So,” he says, his hand leaving your waist to join his other one on your face, lightly squishing your cheeks. “I’m very much in love with you, too.”

His gaze momentarily shifts to your lips, before it’s back on your eyes. “I really want to kiss you, [name].”

The entirety of your body heat accumulates in your face, and his fingers effortlessly melt against it, your body sinking into the grassy earth as if it’s sand.

“Do you?” you ask, your thumb grazing his bottom lip.

“Yes. Can I?”

You nod, and Kuroo swears his heart skips a beat. Hypnotized, he allows his eyes to flutter shut, ready to memorize all the various flavors you have to offer.

When finally he gets to savor your bare, delicate skin - sweeter than anything he has ever tasted before, it’s like the world stops for the both of you.

Or maybe you only drift to your own, each swipe of his tongue guiding you through a new route, the destination of which has yet to be discovered.

[delaber]

Hahah it’s working now!!

How about ER nurse/doctor and Rafa?

Thank you ❤️

Title: Poetic Justice

Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader

Note: Hey! Thanks for the ask! ER nurse x Rafa just for you!

Words: 2.7K

Warnings: mentions of drug use, blood, bar fight.

The fact that you were tired was an understatement. Night shifts were never fun but they especially weren't fun on July fourth. Working at a hospital on a stressful night like tonight was enough to turn every nurse's hair grey. The drunk idiots, the bar brawls, the 15-year-olds who for some reason thought they could hold their liquor, the firework injuries, you could go on.

Eager for a coffee break and a slice of the delicious apple pie that your mom had dropped by earlier, you hurried towards the break room in the other end of the hallway. Getting there in one piece was always tricky, and you knew from experience that if you didn't keep your gaze down low, one of the doctors would hijack you to come see a patient. So with your eyes fixated on your white tennis shoes against the linoleum flooring, you hurried past multiple doctors before your cover was blown.

"Hey!" You heard a doctor give out a loud whistle behind you, "hey; you in the blue scrubs!" He called. You froze in place and took a desperate look around in the hallway, praying that he hadn't referred to you, but you were the only nurse in sight.

With a sigh, you turned around and faced your least favourite doctor in the entire unit, "yes, dr. Helms?" you said politely although his face was even more smackable than usual.

"I forget your name," he said and pushed his horn-rimmed glasses further up his nose without allowing you to answer before he continued, "I have a patient in 302. Bar fight. Possible concussion. Could you see to him before he dismantles the entire emergency room?"

"I was actually just about to go on a break," you tried, your mind fixated on your mom's pie in the fridge.

"The hospital doesn't pay you to go on breaks," the doctor said sternly before he pushed the information clipboard in your hands and walked past you with an arrogant strut.

"Arrogant ass," you mumbled to yourself and looked over the patient information sheet. Helms hadn't even bothered to fill it out.

With a great sigh, you tried to shrug off how annoyed Dr. Helms always made you. And because you were a good nurse, you put on a smile before you entered room 302, ready to face the room-splitting-drunkass that Dr. Helms had been too arrogant to take care of himself.

When you opened the door to the room, you were surprised to see a man eating a can of yoghurt while quietly watching the price is right on the tv screen. The only thing out of the ordinary was the fact that his nose looked particularly swollen and that his face and t-shirt was soaked in blood.

"Hi," you sent him a warm smile, "I'll be your nurse for tonight."

The quiet man shuffled around on the bed and sat down his can of yoghurt, "hey. I hope it's okay I ate in here. I've been waiting for quite some time and I grew hungry," he chuckled slightly and finally looked up at you, "Oh! Hey!!" He said once more, this time with a bit more familiarity. A smirk crept up on his face.

You on the other hand had been frozen for a couple of seconds as you immediately had recognised his husky voice, "...Rafa?"

"Hey," he said once more, this time a bit more softly and with a small laugh as his broad signature grin spread on his lips. He was hard to recognise beneath all the blood but it was definitely him. "You changed hospital. How are you?" He asked you in a nasal voice as he let his eyes run all over your body as if he was scanning you.

"Better than you it seems," you nodded, finally free of your trance, and started filling out the patient information sheet with all of his personal information. You knew everything by heart after all. "What happened to you?" you asked without looking up from the clipboard.

"Eh, I got in a fight at this club downtown," he said cockily.

"Of course you did," you mumbled under your breath.

"-But you'd be happy to learn that it all started because I defended a young woman who was being groped by a creep," he looked oddly proud of himself.

"Don't care. I'm just here as your nurse," you said as you scribbled down his parents' phone number under emergency contacts.

"Yeah, you never did put up with my shit. Glad to see that nothing's changed," he tried joking with a small chuckle but winced in pain by his own movements, carefully touching his nose with his fingers.

"Looks like you could use some pain killers," you said, trying to keep it professional, "I just need to know if you're in any way intoxicated. Alcohol? Drugs?"

He looked at you with a hurt expression on his face but he didn't answer.

"I personally don't care if you're high as a kite right now, Rafa," you said softly, "I'm asking you as a professional. I need to know if you're on drugs or I might give you a dose of something that could end up killing you."

"Just alcohol. Whiskey and tequila - if that matters," he said quietly.

"No drugs?" You shot him an unimpressed look and for the first time since your encounter revealed that you definitely weren't feeling very professional on the inside, "that doesn't sound like you."

"No drugs," he repeated with a small nod.

"Alright then," you muttered under your breath and handed him a pill from a pink jar and a glass of water. You let him swallow it before you continued, "lean back so I can clean your face." You demanded.

Rafa leaned back on the bed, wheezing slightly, "I quitted you know."

"You quitted what?" you said as you wetted a cloth and draped it across his face, cleaning off the blood. You couldn't help yourself and applied just a bit more pressure to his wounded face than what you'd normally do with patients in his situation. He groaned in pain. Served him right.

"The drugs," he said, "I quit the drugs..."

"Good for you," you said, your voice emotionless.

"What, you don't believe me?"

You kept cleaning him off without answering him. His familiar scent was filling your nostrils and it annoyed you how soft it made you. How it reminded you of what had been between you and Rafa.

"Wow, you really don't believe me!" he tried again.

"I haven't seen you in three years. Why do you care if I believe you or not?"

"I quit because of you. The things you said resonated with me after you'd left. I tried telling you. Multiple times."

"If you're referring to the thousand messages you left me, I never listened to them."

Your statement made him clench his jaw tightly and he finally shut up. At least it made him easier to clean when he wasn't talking. It didn't take him long to emit a small whine, however, as you draped the wet cloth over a cut he had on his cheekbone.

"Would you stop smiling like that?" He chuckled slightly, "or is causing me pain turning you on?"

"I have to admit that I'm enjoying it just a little bit," you smiled and threw away the now completely red cloth.

"So you admit that you are happy to see me - even if it's just because I'm whining like a wounded animal in front of you," he smirked.

You looked at his perfect set of straight teeth and the familiar grin that was framing them. You weren't much for admitting it but there was definitely something intoxicating about being this close to him again. Looking at him grinning up at you, you were reminded of the fact that you hadn't left him because you'd fallen out of love with him. You'd left him because he had been ruinous and immature. You cleared your throat to bring your thoughts back on track. "Okay," you said in a professional tone, "you're gonna need an x-ray but with this type of bruising on your face I think it's safe to say that your nose is definitely broken."

"I got head-butted in the face. Of course I broke my nose," he grinned, "how does the rest of my face look? Am I still pretty?"

"You look like a boxer," you joked.

You earned yourself a small laugh from him followed by a series of painful moans as he had accidentally scrunched up his nose while laughing. He had always looked awfully cute when laughing - still did, even with his nose all crooked and swollen.

"You say you got head-butted?" You continued in your professional tone.

"Very much so," he groaned.

"Okay, let me just check your neck then," you said and put your fingertips on the tense muscles in his neck, desperately looking anywhere but eyes.

"Not that I'm not enjoying this, but what are you doing?" He asked quietly, looking up at you with a soft expression.

"Checking for whiplash," you said and touched the muscles where his spine met his skull. You could feel a shiver all the way down his body, as your fingers found the muscles running across the edge of his hairline. You should've remembered. He loved being touched there.

"Mmh," he said as he closed his eyes, "your fingers still feel good against my skin."

"Stop enjoying it so much," you chuckled and gently pressed in on his cervical spine, "you're having a medical procedure done. Not a massage."

"Wouldn't mind a massage," he groaned with his eyes closed, "I may be a little drunk, but this is quite amazing," he whispered as your fingers found his spine beneath his hairline. He emitted another groan and you hated the effect it had on you. It was almost sexual.

"No signs of whiplash," you said loudly and retracted your fingers from his hairline, pulling out a small flashlight from your pocket, "Sit up straight and follow the light please."

Rafa groaned as he repositioned himself on the bed. You moved the flashlight from side to side in front of him. "Oh man, you must really be enjoying bossing me around like this," he chuckled slightly, but followed the light obediently.

"Very much," you said and examined his eyeballs, "your pupils are dilated. How's your head feeling?" you were looking him straight in the eye. The green irises cutting through you.

"Dizzy," he smiled, "and I feel like throwing up."

"Then why are you smiling like that?" you arched an amused eyebrow at him.

It took him a few seconds to answer, "no reason..." he smirked, "I forgot."

"Okay. Definitely a concussion," you nodded with a small laugh and noted it on his information sheet, "you need to be under observation tonight."

"Okay? I need to stay here?"

"No, you can go home. You just need someone to wake you up every hour and ask you a simple question like your name or your date of birth or something of the sort. Is there anyone you could call? A girlfriend or something?" It was a loaded question and you mentally gave yourself a small smack for it.

"I guess I could ask Diggs," Rafa shrugged.

"Ah, yes. The love of your life," you sighed slightly, thinking about Rafa's vibrant best friend while pulling out needle and thread from a small tin.

"He misses you too, you know," Rafa said quietly, "the house was never really the same with you gone."

You thought about the house that the three of you had shared. You'd loved living there with your two best friends. You thought about Daveed too. Rafa had won him in the break-up. "You still live in the old house? Daveed too?"

"Yeah," Rafa nodded and sent you a somewhat hopeful smile, "we had a new kitchen installed. You should come see it."

You thought about it for a minute. Seeing the house and Daveed again would be great but it would be too painful, "no, Rafa..."

"Why not?" He looked at you with puppy eyes.

"I don't want to."

"Because of what I did?"

"Because of what you did. Now shut up. I need to stitch up the cut on your cheekbone," you said and put the needle in the skin right below his eye. He emitted a whimpering noise when the needle penetrated his skin and you felt the corners of your mouth turn upwards.

"Oh, you are so enjoying this," Rafa gave out a soft chuckle, "don't you normally give a local anesthetic for this?

"Not with such a swollen face," you gave him another stitch, "sorry, I'll stop enjoying your pain," you chuckled.

"No, don't. I've always liked this slightly sadistic side to you," he laughed.

"Shut up," you smiled at him as you put in the last stitch with just a small whimper escaping his lips. "Although I gotta say," you chuckled, "hearing you in pain like this is slightly therapeutic."

"Glad to be your personal punching bag," he mumbled with a small smile, his fingers brushing against your scrubs as you leaned over his body to cut the black thread.

You took a step back and examined his face where the bruising had spread considerably in the short amount of time you'd nursed him. An unwelcome voice in the back of your head stated that he looked good even with his swollen nose and the rainbow of colours in the area below his green eyes. You had to clear your throat to stop yourself from going down that road, "alright, mr Casal. You're ready to go to radiology. Just show them this slip," you handed him a piece of paper with his medical details on it.

"Alright," he sighed and stood up from the hospital bed, towering above you.

He gathered his denim jacket from a nearby chair, threw away the yoghurt can and looked at you, "Hey. I know you've probably spent the past three years hating me but do you want to have dinner with me soon?"

"I never hated you, Rafa," you sighed, "we just didn't work out."

"I'm better now. I'm clean."

"I'm very happy for you. You seem to be doing much better."

"I am," he nodded, "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too..."

"But no dinner?"

"No dinner," you shook your head.

"Alright..." he nodded sadly, "I've been waiting for the day I bumped into you again. Although I imagined it to be under different circumstances, I'm still glad that it finally happened. I know that I owe you an apology. When you're ready to hear it I'm ready to offer it."

"Goodnight, Rafa," you said and sent him a small smile.

"Goodnight, nugget," he said before he walked out of the emergency room and closed the door behind him.

Something about hearing him word your old nickname made time stand completely still.

Everything came rushing back to you; the long afternoons doing homework in his backyard, you and Diggs in matching graduation caps while Rafa was cheering for you even though he'd been kicked out months prior to graduation, the three of you moving into a rental house in L.A., pool parties in your backyard, your drunken kiss with Rafa at one of said parties, your drunken night with him too. Suddenly holding hands in secret on a daily basis, sneaking past Daveed's room at night. A while later kissing openly in front of friends and family. Rafa's first signing, the parties that followed, the drugs that followed too. The many times you'd found him passed out around the house from various substances, the night he was so far gone that you thought he would die. The long talk you'd had with him, and how he'd promised to stop. How you had truly believed him only to find him passed out after a party a week later.

If he was ready to apologise, you were ready to listen.

You made a quick decision and poked your head out in the hallway; "hey Rafa!" you called after him

He whipped around in an instant, "yes?"

"Are you hungry? I have a slice of apple pie in the fridge. My mom's."

His signature smile grew wide on his face, "I never could resist your mom's cooking."

[superspookywombat]

Spirit Falls {j.h}

One-shot request by @xo-sophiemae-xo 

Request: “Can I request an imagine with the Cullens where they go on a huge hike and eventually y/n gets too tired so someone has to carry her back and then just some fluff around the campfire please! (Preferably jasper or Emmett x reader) Thanks xx”

A/N: so spirit falls is a real place and that’s what i had in mind when writing this. also, this is way longer than i originally meant on making it, but i kinda got carried away. anyways, enjoy :)

“You brought bug spray, right?” You ask Rosalie, who sits in the passenger seat of Emmett’s Jeep. She holds up the bottle in response and you settle back into your seat. Jasper sits next to you, your hand in his as the Cullen crew zoom down the foggy Washington roads. The Jeep is followed by Edward’s Volvo, which hauls Edward, Bella, Carlisle, Esme, and Alice. One of the Cullen’s favorite past times was hiking, and you were adamant on them taking you. Jasper was reluctant, because they also had the tendency to hunt if the conditions were right. He didn’t want you to see that. In the end, it was Rosalie who convinced him to let you go, even if she was less than enthusiastic about you being alive when you first met. Now, she was your best friend.

Your heart races in anticipation to arrive at the destination, Esme had planned a whole day out. She packed a picnic for you, and you brought a book and an outdoor blanket just in case Jasper decided to hunt.

“I spy something red.” Emmett says. You look around outside the window, nothing red, just a whole lot of green. Inside the cab of the Jeep, no red either. Jasper wears all neutral colors, Emmett wears white and blue, and Rosalie made it very clear that Emmett was to exclude her from the ‘childish game.’ 

“I don’t see any red, I give up.” You sigh. The game had been going on for about thirty minutes already, yet you hadn’t gotten one yet. 

“You suck at this game.” Emmett says.

“That’s not fair! You see like triple the colors I see!” You complain. “Are we even close to being there?” 

“We’d be a whole lot closer if Jasper didn’t set a speed limit.” Rosalie says. Emmett gives an agreeing nod to her statement. 

“Humans are fragile, Rose.” Jasper says calmly. You roll your eyes, and lean your head on his shoulder. 

“Come on, Jazz, you’ll protect me.” You say, trying to convince him. 

“I can feel that you’re anxious already with how fast he’s going.” He says. You glare at him, folding your arms.

“Traitor.” You frown, but he smiles at you and brings your hand to his lips, placing a cool kiss to your skin. You pull his arm so that it hangs around your shoulder, and you nestle your head into his shoulder. Unfortunately, you don’t have a blanket in your reach so the hardness of his shoulder bone hurts your head. “You’re too hard.”

“Said no girl ever.” Emmett chimes in. Rosalie smacks him on the shoulder, and he whines out an ‘ow.’ You focus on Jasper’s breathing and soon enough your eyes flutter shut.

----------------

The slamming of car doors wake you. Jasper retracts his arm as you sit up straight, stretching your neck. You unbuckle your seatbelt and exit the Jeep, your feet hitting the mossy ground. You walk over to Bella, who’s talking to Alice. They look up as they hear you approach. 

“What’s the plan?” You ask them. 

“First we’re hiking to the waterfall, then when Esme and Carlisle go hunting, we’re going swimming.” Alice says, her eyes lit up with excitement. 

“I didn’t bring a swimsuit.” You say. Alice playfully rolls her eyes, placing a hand on your arm. 

“I brought one for you- and trust me, Jasper will love it.” She says with a wink. Her mischievous smile tells you that the swimsuit doesn’t cover much.

“Alice..” You groan. She throws her hand forward dismissively. 

“You’ll thank me later.” She says, walking away and leaving you with Bella. You sigh and take a look at the girl, who looks at you and chortles. 

“You should have seen what she packed for my honeymoon.” She says, her lips pulled into an amused smile. Before you have the chance to respond, Carlisle calls out to the group that it’s time to start the hike. You and Bella walk over to join them, and soon you’re walking along an uneven path. 

“Why did I talk you into letting me come?” You ask Jasper as you trip over yet another exposed root for what seems to be the hundredth time.

“It’ll be fun, just wait ‘till you feast your eyes on that waterfall.” He says, grabbing your arm gently to keep you from falling.

“I prefer this view.” You say, smiling at him. He looks away bashfully. Everyone had broken off into small sub-groups by now, Esme and Edward identifying birds, Rosalie and Alice were chatting, Carlisle was leading the group and reading from a map (even though he’s walked the trail a million times), and Bella and Emmett were racing to different landmarks while scouting ahead for any humans that would interfere with hunting. You and Jasper stayed at the back of the group, mainly because you were slower than everyone else. Beside you, Jasper looked deep in thought.

“Whatcha thinking about?” You ask, holding onto his hand. He doesn’t look at you, but ahead, and smiles.

“You feel very.. Content. It’s peaceful, being around you.” He says. You walk in silence for a moment, unsure of how to respond.

“It’s because of you, you know. You make me feel safe- and I feel alive around you.” You softly respond.

“I sure hope you feel alive, otherwise the blood I can hear pumping through your veins has some explainin’ to do.” He chuckles. 

“Oh, real funny. I’m trying to be sentimental here.” You playfully scold him. He kisses your hand, then turns to face you.

“My apologies, ma’am.” He says, his face split with a smile. You smack him on the arm and you both go back to walking in a comfortable silence. 

----

A few hours later, you can faintly hear the roar of a waterfall. You look to Jasper, your body buzzing with excitement.

“Oh, I can’t wait. Can’t we just run there?” You ask him. He sighs, looking around to see that everyone is occupied, then bends down and picks you up bridal style. You know the drill, so you tuck your head close to his chest and he takes off. You feel the wind whip your hair around, and you find comfort in Jasper’s tight arms that hold you to him. You smile, inhaling his fresh, woody scent as he runs effortlessly through the forest. When he stops, you open your eyes to find yourself at the top of the upper waterfall. He lets you down onto the mossy surface. He holds your waist to steady you as you look over the edge of the smaller waterfall, the turquoise water swirling mesmerizingly where it hits the surface of the pool. 

“Wow.” Is all you manage to say. The view takes your breath away, and a moment later, the rest of the Cullens appear behind you.

“This view never gets old.” Esme says. Bella watches it the same way you do, this being her first time seeing it also. A pang in your stomach, followed by an embarrassingly loud gurgle disrupts your serenity.

“Food time for the human.” Alice says, reaching for the stylish backpack latched to her shoulders. She pulls out the outdoor blanket, handing it to you as you spread it out in a patch of sunlight on the soft, mossy, forest floor. You sit down as Jasper hands you a water bottle and peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Bella goes to investigate the water with Edward while Rose and Emmett sit down on nearby stumps. 

“I saw some mountain lions a few miles north.” Carlisle says as he and Esme prepare to depart from the rest of the group. After they leave, the remaining Cullens (except Jasper) take off their clothes to expose the swimwear underneath. After finishing your sandwich, Alice hands you a swim top and bottoms for you to change into. You hold the black two piece to your chest as you hide behind a large rock, stripping off your clothes and underwear. After putting on the bikini bottoms, you try desperately to untangle the strappy top. 

“Alice!” You groan. After a second, you hear her approach you. You hold an arm to your chest while thrusting out the swim top. “I can’t figure this damn thing out.” 

After a while of configuring and arguing, you finally get the top on and wrap a towel around yourself. Looking up at the waterfall, you see Bella and Edward swimming in the water, and Rosalie pushing Emmett off the cliff. Alice jumps in after Rosalie. Jasper waits for you on the blanket, his bare chest sparkling in the sunlight. You approach him and he quickly stands, seeing the towel wrapped around your body. 

“Never let Alice pack me clothes again.” You say.

“Are you ready?” He asks. You don’t respond, you just take a breath and drop your towel, looking away as his eyes swiftly glance down at your exposed cleavage. He picks you up again, like earlier, and soon you’re at the top of the waterfall.

Looking down at the seemingly thousand foot drop, your stomach does flip flops. “Actually, you know what? You’re not supposed to swim thirty minutes after eating. So, I’m just gonna- woah, okay.” You’re cut off as Jasper dangles you over the edge, teasing you. You grip on to him tight, making him laugh more. “Not funny, Jazz. Put me down!” 

“It’s just a small drop, darling. I’ll keep you safe.” He says, a smile not leaving his face. You close your eyes and nestle your face in his smooth chest as he jumps, your senses overwhelmed by the sound of air whooshing past your ears and Emmett whooping and cheering. Your bodies hit icy water, stopping your heart and then jump-starting it again. You push away from Jasper as you propel your way to the surface, breaking through and wiping water from your face. Jasper surfaces a moment later, his hair wet and slicked back, and his skin sparkling. He looks so hot you almost forget that you’re mad. Almost. You shove water at him, trying to put on your best mean face.

“I’m gonna remember that. You- I- I’m so mad at you, you jerk!” You scold him. He can’t keep a straight face for long, because after your outburst, Emmett’s booming laugh fills the clearing.

“No you’re not.” Edward chimes in. You look to see that everyone has now swam to the shallow parts as Rosalie wrings out her hair and Alice and Bella lay back against the mossy rocks. 

“Can it, Cullen.” You glare. He laughs and retreats back to Bella as Jasper reaches his arms around your torso and leans in to press his lips to yours.

---

After about an hour of splashing around and jumping off cliffs, Esme and Carlisle return. Edward, Bella and Alice take off on their turn as you and the remaining Cullens return to the hiking path, the next destination being another small clearing with a fire pit.

“This place is so pretty.” You say, taking a deep breath and inhaling the mossy scent. Beside you, Jasper nods and takes a glance around.

“The game is good out here too.” He says. His eyes are black, letting you know that he’s hungry and it’s getting harder to be so close to you.

“I’m sure you can still catch up with Edward if you’re really thirsty, I’ll be fine.” You assure him.

“I’m okay. I’ll take off with Emmett and Rose when we get to the clearing.” He says. You nod in response and return talking with Carlisle about the history behind your destination. 

After forty-five minutes of walking, your feet start getting sore and your legs strain to keep up with the speedy vampires. 

“My legs hurt. Are we almost there?” You whine, tugging on Jasper’s arm like a three year old. 

“I told you this was going to be a difficult hike.” He says. You groan, trying to focus on anything but the stretching in your limbs. 

“Why would I be worried about a ‘difficult hike’ when I have a big, strong, vampire boyfriend to carry me when I get tired?” You say with pleading eyes. 

“Would you like me to carry you, y/n?” Jasper says, his eyes filled with a mischievous glint. 

“Please?” You smile. He kneels down and you climb onto his back, resting your head on his shoulder. “Ah, I feel better already.”

“Anything for you, darling.” He says. You kiss the side of his neck, earning a soft moan from him. 

“Hey, keep it PG back there, kids.” Emmett teases. You give him the finger and he feigns offence, but soon returns his attention back to Rosalie. You yawn as you lay your cheek against the soft fabric of Jasper’s shirt, forcing yourself to hum a song in order to not be lulled asleep by his rhythmic walking. 

A little while longer, you reach a clearing where pieces of wood sit piled up into a bonfire. After letting you off his back, Jasper reaches into his pocket and pulls out an old lighter. The wood lights up as you lay out the blanket and sit on the ground, leaning against a tree stump. Soon Edward returns with the girls, Jasper takes off with Rosalie and Emmett. Alice sits by you as everyone finds a good spot around the fire. Esme leans against Carlisle and Edward sits by Bella, their legs intertwined as she watches the fire and he watches her. 

Thirty minutes pass of Carlisle telling you about vampire history, when Jasper, Emmett, and Rosalie return. Everyone’s eyes once again golden, putting you back at ease. Jasper lays down next to you, resting his head in your lap as you stroke his hair. He fiddles with the lighter, and with the small light from the fire, you can barely read the name “Jasper Whitlock” engraved in the shiny metal.

“Thanks for taking me here.” You say to him, enjoying seeing everyone in a different environment. He smiles and you lean down and kiss him, then sit back up and watch the warm glow of the fire as you comb your fingers through his soft hair. “It’s amazing- seeing something so beautiful with your own eyes.”

He smiles, staring up at you. “You are more beautiful than any waterfall, and I get to see you everyday. Imagine how amazing I feel.” 

“Oh, you’re such a cheeseball.” You chortle, pushing his shoulder. “But you’re my cheeseball, and I love you.”

He grins. “I love you too, darlin’.”

[dirtyoatmeall]

Unexpected Meeting pt 2 (Kaminari x reader)

A/N: It’s here! I set this up with the possibility of doing more parts, I hope this is good. If you guys would like to send in requests, just send in an ask! 

Part 1

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x Bakugo sister! reader (female pronouns)

Word Count: 1548

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, allusions to past trauma (kind of), swearing ofc, Everyone is 21+

Taglist: @doubled-up-jeans

~~~~~

Laughter surrounded you as your eyes held fast to Kaminari’s. You weren’t sure what you did to deserve this, and you internally cringed thinking back to what you told your brother and his boyfriend about that night. You can vaguely hear Bakugo saying something in a disgusted voice, probably about what you said earlier.

Your face still beet red, you grabbed the blonds hand and dragged him into the kitchen, suddenly glad your apartment wasn’t open concept. After a moment you realize you’re still holding his hand, and you let go, face flushing impossibly redder, and you took a step back. Kaminari seemed to have recovered quickly, possibly from the fact he was no longer in your brother’s presence. He smirked and looked you over, like he hadn’t seen you naked last night.

“So, come here often?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the fact your lips twitched up. His smile widened, taking a step closer to you. “I take it this is why you couldn’t go out to dinner with me tonight?” You nodded, and raised your chin a little to look into his eyes.

“It is, and you were planning on skipping this dinner if I had said yes?” He sheepishly scratched the back of his neck, “I actually forgot about this dinner, my roommate reminded me after I got home.” You smiled, face finally returning to a normal temperature. “Well, I’m glad they did, or else I wouldn’t of been able to see the absolute look of disgust on my brother’s face.” Kaminari laughed at your words before getting a mischievous look. “And I wouldn’t of been able to hear that you told them I’m the best you’ve had?” Well, that didn’t last long you thought as your faced flushed for the umpth time that night.

“Okay, well you weren’t supposed to hear that, but I’m not going to retract my statement.” You looked everywhere but him as he made a quite “oh?” and stepped closer to you. Brow arched, he grabbed your chin gently between his thumb and finger, bringing your attention to his now heated gaze. It seemed like time slowed as his face came closer to yours. You felt a slight tingle of electricity as your lips barely brushed, but before you could deepen the, a voice sounded out from the entryway.

“Are you fucking kidding me? No, stop, I’m going to literally fucking throw up get away from the food.” Your brother demanded as he walked over to get the food that was on the counter next to you. You and Kaminari broke apart, you made a face at your sibling as you handed him the food. “I’m keeping this in mind the next time you and Kiri forget that I live here too.” Bakugo made a face right back and turned to go back to the dining room, muttering about you going back to Europe.

You sigh and turn back to , well, whatever this was, and smiled, gesturing in the direction your brother went. “ I guess we should join them before Bakugo has an aneurysm.” Kaminari snorted as he followed you back into the dining room.

Honestly you don’t know why you expected better. Of course, everyone is seated by now, with two empty seats sandwiched between Kirishima and your brother’s pink haired friend. It’s better than being next to your brother you think, as the pair of you get seated, ignoring the smirks the rest of the table (excluding your brother, who still grimaced every time he looked at the two of you). The attention slowly shifted from you and Kaminari to just you, and you finally got introduced to everyone.

As the conversation lulled, Ashido shifted slightly in her seat to face you, speaking after she finished chewing her food. “You were in Europe right? What’d you go there for?” You smiled, setting down your drink before turning your attention to her. You saw Kaminari out of the corner of your eye, sipping the alcoholic seltzer they had brought as a house warming gift.

“Oh, I went to study abroad! I was pretty much there for my whole first year, which is why I hadn’t met you guys sooner. But basically me and a small group of other students went to different countries and got to see their education models in action, for example, Finland doesn’t really assign homework or focus on standardized testing, while the US focuses heavily on them.” You rattled off some other facts about what you learned during study abroad before taking a breath and taking a drink. You could probably talk about this all night long. When Ashido had first spoken to you, everyone was in their own little conversations, but at the end of it, everyone was focused on you. Your cheeks turned pink, and you tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, figuring out what else you could say, when Sero spoke up.

“Oh rad! So you’re an education major? What do you want to specialize in? My mom’s an Asian studies professor!” You eyes widened and you got giddy. “Woah really? That’s so cool! Honestly I’m really stuck between literature and history, but definitely high school or college, I can’t handle little kids having accidents and middle schoolers would make me cry.” Everyone snickered at your completely serious statement, and you gushed some more, talking about how you’d always loved history since you and Bakugo were kids but Literature was such a great subject, when Mina gasps in shock.

“Wait, you and Bakugo are twins?” You looked at her quizzically and nodded, you had figured that was obvious. “Well duh Pinky, she just mentioned coming back to Japan for her second year of college, and we’re all in our second year of college” Bakugo speaks up from Kirishima’s other side, the red head rolling his eyes at his boyfriend’s refusal to call their friends by their names.

While Mina is still bickering with Bakugo, Sero turns his attention to you. “So does that mean you two have the same quirk?” That caught Mina and Kaminari’s attention easily, the three looking at you eagerly. But before you could explain, your brother speaks up. “Psh, of course not, no one has a quirk as great as mine.”

You rolled your eyes and turned back to them “No, While Bakugo pretty much has a perfect combination of our parent’s quirks, I take after my mom and can secrete glycerin from my skin. It’s not very flammable at low temperatures, so it’s better for like moisturizing and can help heal small burns.” The two boys nod in understanding while Mina gets excited. “Wow! So you like never have to pay for moisturizer? That’s so cool! That explains why your skin looks so great!” You smile and nod, “Its pretty nice, but I have to admit, sometimes I wish I had a more offensive quirk, I can’t really moisturize a bad guy into leaving me alone.” You chuckled light heartedly, but Kaminari could see the pain hidden in your gaze, did something happen? Before he could ask, Kirishima, having stayed mostly quiet during dinner, speaks up. “Well that’s why you have us silly. But enough of pestering (Y/N), lets watch a movie!”

Bakugo goes to set up the movie, you can hear him in the living room bickering with Mina over movies choices, while you pick up the dishes to take into the kitchen. Kaminari wordlessly helps, following you into the kitchen with dirty plates in hand. He dries as you wash, a comfortable silence enveloping the two of you. You hum softly and bump your hip into his, smiling up at him, lovesick gaze rendering him speechless. You were so pretty, and Kaminari was thinking of ways to ask you out before you spoke.

“I know I already said it earlier, but I’m really glad you came tonight. I’d really like to see you again, maybe without my brother and everyone else.” You wink before turning back to the dishes, a faint blush dusting both of your cheeks. He nods, even though you can’t see him. “I’d-uh-I’d really like that.”

You smile to yourself as you watch him dry the last dish, turning your body towards him as he places the dishtowel back oh its hook. You meet eyes, and he takes a step closer, placing a hand on the counter on either side of you, caging you. You rest a hand of his chest, slightly twisting the fabric as you bring him down to your height. “I figured we could pick up where we left off last time we were in here.” Denki smirked, eyebrow raising slightly as he looked from your eyes down to your lips, licking his own. “Oh really? I was thinking the same thing actually.” He sighs as he closes the gap between the two of you. This time you felt the slight tingle of electricity on your lips it only made you smile into the kiss, shifting your arms to wind around his neck, pulling him closer as his own hands moved onto your waist, dipping under the fabric of your shirt.  Yeah, you definitely wanted to see him again.

[crowleyellestair]

Hey! I love your fanfictions! Can you please write an oneshot where Jaskier washes the female reader’s hair, and he brushes it and braids it for her, before they cuddle each other. Thank you!

AN// Sorry for the wait!!! I hope you like this and I’m honored you like my other stuff!! Much love <3 <3 : )

 The water was too hot, and the aroma was too much but it was worth it. To get the grime off and the bard’s hands on. Those hands. The ones that bring comfort, chasing away the stress that had built tension into her muscles the minute the warrior set foot into the sewers with their witcher friend. The ones that scrubbed through anything from mud to…human excrement to get to the semi rough skin underneath. The hands that belong to the man she loves more than life. More than the stars above and love itself.

Jaskier’s eyes brightened the minute she stepped into the inn, ending his performance and floating through the batting eyes and flashing parts to get to her. The smell that wafted through the inn upon her arrival hadn’t affected her anymore, the stench burning her nostrils hours ago. Despite how everyone else shrunk away, he pushed through, almost reaching out before Y/n herself took a step back.

“Wow, you were actually going to embrace me.” Y/n couldn’t keep the smile off her face, especially when he simply shrugged and snatched the two cups of ale the waitress brought to them.

“There’s a reason I wouldn’t?” Her brow raised, but she still kept a grin. There was a quick turn of their heels and both had made their way to their shared room. Jaskier had talked the witcher’s ear off to heat the water that lay in the tub as it had gone cold in waiting. Once the steam poured over the floor, the two wouldn’t see the White Wolf till morning.

Most of the actual grime had stayed caked on the clothes she had shed hastily. Though, the suction the clothes had as the dampness made them stick to her skin was the tell-tale sign that while she couldn’t see it, germs had become habitants of her epidermis. She was happy to see two pails of clean water next to the tub, so rinsing would actually occur.

A damp rag started to scrub away at the layers covering her neck, face and hair; the parts that had made direct contact with the sewer water being lessened before they too met the water. Once enough of the initial grime was taken, Jaskier ran some water over her hair to dampen it. He placed himself on a stool behind his lover, bubbles overflowing the bath, almost splashing against his breeches. The brunette reached abound her shoulders, a soap in each hand. Y/n hummed in concentration before deciding to go with the orange scrub held in his left hand.

“Fantastic choice, love.” It was barely above a whisper, and she knew she didn’t have to respond. Jaskier was incapable of not complementing her at any given moment, and it was something she had to get used to. A year in, and here she sat, blush still brought to her cheeks at the rhetorical statement.

Long fingers lacquered with orange and oats started to gently rub her hair line. The bard’s nails were longer than one would think, the lute strings easily plucked with the help of them. He used his fingertips for the initial touch, light scratches following after, barely a whisper. It gave a different stimulation to the massaging, and it made her eyes roll shut. A heavy sigh fell from Y/n, along with more tension in her shoulders. Jaskier started to hum something she hadn’t heard before. It was slow, but the major chords and twisting melody kept her heart light. She winced at her own rough voice cutting through it.

“I like that. What story shall accompany it?” There was a lot of yelling between her and the witcher in the sewer, voice gruff and cut, but Jaskier leaned in next her ear with a smooth smile and soft voice to counter act it.

“The one about a Goddess, taking pity on a lovestruck poet who would follow her to the end of the earth.” The flush came back to her in full force, her head falling back against the rim of the tub. His hands follow even as she tips her face to see the smirk upon his lips. “Though it seems the Goddess might be just as struck.” Air forced its way past her lips in a halfhearted raspberry as she looked anywhere but the bard.

“What a way with words.” Y/n’s tone was laced with sarcasm, trying to deflect. She was well aware how he loved to torture her, spinning words and weaving them into her heart. He hummed in agreement, sitting straight once more. His hands continued their dance, lifting her head slightly to start on the back of her neck.

“I would hope so, as it a skill I need for my profession. However, I simply need to point out the obvious to get you flushing.”

“There is no way you could see a flush- which isn’t there, because of the muck on my face.”

“Hmm. I can see it in those gorgeous eyes, darling.” To make his point, he leaned over, making eye contact, winking. It was truly outrageous in her mind; all sweet talking being lost in the real passion that flooded her veins. As she spoke, it seemed like she was lost in a trance.

“You have the eyes. I get lost in those fields of cornflowers every time you look at me.” Jaskier practically flinched in surprise, eyes widening and searching in her own. Y/n simply sat in the tub, seemingly lost as she just claimed. He leaned down, pressing a kiss into her nose, and as he pulled away, she let out a soft tisk. Her hand followed him, wiping the dirt that stuck to his lips, her thumb brushing over his bottom lip. He pressed a second peck to the pad of her finger, and she smiles sweetly before retracting her hand now that his lips were cleaned. The bard goes back to massaging and Y/n continued to revel.

He finished soon after, rinsing out her hair with one of the pails of water that sat by the hearth. The bard wrapped a smaller towel around her hair, making sure nothing fell back into the water and to lightly dry it. He moved down the tub towards her legs, picking up a foot, grabbing the soap once more, beginning to work the soap into her skin. Kisses were placed in the wake of washed skin and jokes were thrown, their ears the only things catching each soft giggle in reply. Y/n soon found herself in between the bard’s legs, his hands back in her hair. Her back was to the small bed, Jaskier sitting on it to get a height advantage. The brush had a new oil he wanted to try, strands untangling from others as the brush runs through them. His legs cage her on each side, her arms wrapped around them, absentmindedly running her hands over them. His trousers had been rolled to his knees since they arrived at the room, and her fingers drew random patters over the revealed skin. Time passed, and his arms wrapped around her shoulders, slightly rocking them back and forth. Jaskier’s breath brushed over her ear, and she gave a small chuckle at the chill.

“Would you like braids?” Y/n gently grabbed into his forearms, turning her head slightly.

“Please?” He placed a kiss on her cheek, picking up his tune from earlier as he starts to divide her hair into sections. Two smaller braids on each side of her started, a loose section left on top, though the braids started to weave into it the lower his hands got. By the end, everything ended in one unit, it being a mix of elvish patterns and braids he partook in with the other kids in Lettenhove. His hands slowly stroked over the joint between her shoulders and neck before Y/n got up, turning in his space. She grabs a hand, pulling him further on the bed as she went. A mischievous smile found its way to the bard before he flopped himself over her, both letting out a litany of laughs. His sea star form quickly tightened, limbs wrapping tightly around his lover that was now half under him.

[jwillowwolf]

Magic and Miracles - Chapter 8

Sanders Sides Big Bang fic, Chapter 8!

< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter > | Masterlist

Summary: “Not a morning person?”

“Does staying up until five am count?”

“Wh- no! That’s actually a bit concerning. Please don’t tell me you were up until five then only slept two hours before we started walking.”

“I won’t tell you that then.”

Warning/s: food mention.

Characters: Logan, Virgil, OCs, Roman, Remy, Remus, Patton, Janus, Emile.

Tag List: @theimprobabledreamersworld @remy-please-come-back

Read on AO3

8 | Fondness

Logan stared at the ceiling above him. It seemed like just yesterday he had been doing this out of boredom, waiting for when everyone was supposed to tour the manor. He’d been so anxious about what studying here would mean and how he would socialise with his classmates. Now though, they were all his friends, and he found himself mildly amused that he’d ever been nervous about getting to know them.

This room that had seemed so strange before had become home. Everything from the view outside his window to the softness of the bed was as familiar as his room at the bakery. Soon though, this would no longer be his home.

With the upcoming license test, he would officially become a wizard, and therefore no longer need to remain a student. He’d miss being here and having his friends so close. Come to think of it, he would miss his friends greatly too. After the test, they would be returning to their far off homes. Virgil didn’t live very far off, but Logan felt that it wouldn’t be proper for someone like him to be visiting the prince.

In a couple of days, all of Logan’s dreams about being a wizard would come true, yet he would lose the dreams he never knew he had…

“Rise and shine, witches! You’ve got a big day ahead!”

Logan shook his head, as if that would clear it of any unwanted thoughts, and got out of bed. Today he couldn’t be distracted by silly emotions. Remy was sending them on a huge quest to refine their skills before the big test.

At breakfast, everyone seemed excited for the quest. It was going to be an overnight kind of thing and they were doing it on their own. They had all been taught to teleport and a special spell that would summon Remy if the need arose, but they were still going to be doing this entirely independent of any other adults.

“Hey, you okay L?” Virgil asked as they were walking down the hall.

“Hmm?”

“You look like you’re trying to solve the meaning of life.”

“...What?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “You look broody, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is… wrong, per se.”

“Per se?”

“I’m probably just feeling tired from staying up last night studying the notes Remy gave us.”

“Well, hopefully, breakfast lifts your energy, because we have a long walk ahead of us.”

Logan didn't have time to even respond to that as he was tackled to the ground by a hug. "Everleigh? What are you doing here?"

"I came to wish my friends good luck of course! Your dad is here too."

Sure enough, Emile was there in the dining room waiting on everyone else with a special spread of pastries for breakfast.

"Hey kids, I figured you'd want something good to start your big day."

"It's not even test-day yet Mr Picani, but thank you! Your pastries are incredible." Willow declared.

"Well, thanks kiddo. Today isn't your test but it's still a pretty big day. I will be sure to make pastries for test day too though."

"It's not that big a quest really," Remy said. "It's just a longer trip than I usually send them on for ingredient collecting."

"Considering it's a two-day journey to retrieve a rare fruit from a cave, I doubt calling today big would be an exaggeration." Virgil pointed out.

"Back when I was learning magic, we didn't even get teleportation spells for coming back. We'd have to walk there and back, and as quickly as we could too." Remy stated.

"Whatever you say, old man."

"Old? Did you just call me old?" Remy said in a greatly offended tone.

Virgil smirked. "Yup."

Remy turned to Emile. "See what disrespect I have to deal with? You know what, I'm not even going to miss you, sassy little ankle-biters."

The teens all snickered at Remy's dramatics and then dug into their breakfast.

“So, are you guys excited?” Emile asked.

“For the quest itself, not so much. But for the afterparty,” Roman said.

“Yeah, Remy promised us that we’d even get the next day off school, so we could stay up as late as we want!” Remus added.

“I have a feeling I’m going to regret that deal,” Remy whispered to Emile, who nodded with a giggle.

“Can I come to the party?” Everleigh asked.

“Of course,” Remy replied. “They seem to get into less trouble with you around. I’m half tempted to ask you to join them on this quest of theirs.”

“We’re not that accident prone, thank you very much. We’ve kept ourselves out of trouble all month,” Janus pointed out.

“Yeah, and I’m worried you’re due for a disaster,” Remy sighed.

Logan nodded. “Statistically speaking, it’s odd that we’ve gone this long without something happening.”

“That’s comforting…” Virgil muttered.

Janus shrugged. “We’re just getting better at self-preservation. We’ll be fine.”

---

“I retract my earlier statement,” Janus declared as they were walking. “We’re all going to die of exhaustion.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Jan, that’s my job,” Roman stated.

“And we’ve barely been walking for half a day now,” Willow pointed out.

“Half a day, mainly uphill,” Janus reiterated.

“Perhaps if we all talk about something, our minds won’t be so concentrated on the tiredness,” Patton suggested.

Logan nodded. “Yes, doing something else should distract our brains from any pain or exhaustion. Either with a stimulating conversation or some kind of sing-along.”

“I know a good song!” Remus declared. “She’ll be coming around the mountain when she comes-!”

“No! You are not starting that nightmare up again,” Roman interrupted with a stern glare at his grinning twin.

“Oh, come on, Roro. You love this song!”

“I passionately despise that song.”

“All I heard was ‘passionately’, do you want to marry this song, Ro?” Remus asked. “Or do you just want to--”

“Shut up!” Roman shouted, his face turning as red as Remus’s eyes.

“What do you have against that song?” Willow inquired.

“It’s the way she sings it,” Roman explained. “It’s not appropriate.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “All I said was-”

“No! You have lost speaking privileges.” Roman declared.

“Well then, is there anything else we can talk about?” Janus asked,

“We could play a game,” Patton suggested.

“But not eye spy or word chain,” Virgil immediately added.

Roman huffed. “Alright then, how about you suggest a game, stormcloud?”

“A race.”

Janus stared at him dumbfounded. You’re kidding, right?

Virgil shook his head. “Nope. Let’s all race to… that archway, the winner gets first pick of the treats Mr Picani gave us for lunch.”

Everyone, despite their tiredness from walking, exchanged looks of determination.

“Let’s go!”

---

Once it was close to sunset, the seven finally halted their walking and made camp with the supplies they’d been given. They had two tents, a good amount of firewood, plenty of food to go around, and sleeping bags for each of them. Janus started the fire and began heating up a pot of stew for dinner.

Remus laid himself flat on the ground. “Gods, everything hurts.”

Patton sighed. “I told you not to jump through that bush.”

“I didn’t know it was hiding a steep incline.”

“I told you it was hiding a steep incline,” Roman huffed.

“Well, when have I ever listened to you?”

Roman just sighed in exasperation, too tired to continue arguing.

“The healing spell should only take a little longer to complete,” Virgil said. “So the pain will eventually fade.”

“Eventually?!”

“Remus, you basically jumped off a cliff, please stop complaining about the consequences of your actions,” Willow said.

Remus looked at her with a raised brow. “Someone’s in a bad mood.”

“They’re hangry,” Janus stated. “And so am I, when is this thing going to finish heating up?!”

“I still have some pastries from lunch to snack on,” Patton offered.

“Oh, Patty, you’re a saint!” Willow declared joyfully.

Logan watched his teammates with a faint smile. These interactions were starkly different from how they used to treat each other in the beginning. Well, Remus and Roman still bickered, but they were siblings. Janus and Roman no longer acted like they wanted to kill one another. Willow spoke with confidence to everyone instead of their meek tones. Virgil became more social and even laughed and smiled along with the group now. Patton was still his kind-hearted self, although now he was a lot more appreciated for it.

It was a far cry from the dysfunctional class of misfits that they had been. And in Logan’s opinion, it was a real improvement. He couldn’t believe that he’d once been so set on looking out only for himself when now he was so determined to help his team. His friends…

“-gan? Logan?”

“Hmm?”

Virgil gave him a small smile. “You spaced out, I was asking if you wanted your stew now.”

“Oh, um, yes, thank you.”

Virgil handed him one of the bowls in his hands and then sat beside him. “Mind if I ask what’s got you so deep in thought?”

“I was just thinking... about how much I’ll miss all of you,” Logan admitted. “Once we’ve all passed the test and can move on with our lives, the twins will sail off to their island, Janus and Willow will go back to Evergreen Valley, Patton will return to his parents and brother, and you’ll- well, you know…”

“Do you really think after all we’ve been through together, we’d abandon each other that easily?”

“It’s possible.”

“So is the end of the world, but tomorrow is just as possible as that.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Well, look at it this way. If you throw a coin up in the air, there’s an equal chance of it landing on either heads or tails, right?”

“Yes.”

“So there is a chance that we’ll all grow apart, but there’s a bigger chance that we’ll stay friends despite the distance. We’ve got magic to take us back and forth anyway. Staying in touch will be easier than you think.”

“Well, what about your whole secret identity thing?”

“After the test, I’m going to finally show the kingdom who I am.”

Logan paused. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, I feel like I’m finally ready to take on the responsibility of having a public image. That means I’ll need to surround myself with the right kinds of people, and you all are exactly the kinds of people I want by my side.”

“Even me? The non-noble?”

“Especially you, Logan. I mean, titles, they’re nothing more than titles. Just words that give a person a position. You, despite the position in life you were given, worked hard to become the first-ever non-noble mage. Title or no title, you are an incredible person Logan, and I’m grateful to have even met you.”

Logan searched Virgil’s face for any hint of insincerity but found none. Those stormy grey eyes held no dishonesty. Only… Fondness? Logan wasn’t good enough at understanding emotions to know exactly what Virgil was feeling, but he felt that it wasn’t anything malicious.

“Thank you, Virgil.”

“No problem. So, do you have any specific plans for what you want to do after the test?”

“Well, I wanted to open up a medical practice.”

“I thought you specialised in air magic? If you’re going into doctoring, why not take up healing magic?”

“I planned on specializing in helping people transition for an affordable price.”

“Oh? That sounds interesting.”

“It was the whole reason I got interested in studying magic. I remember that one day some people came into the bakery, talking about transitional magic. I knew then already that I wanted to do something about my body. The dysphoria was… difficult. So I looked into having someone do the spell for me, but even the cheapest of mages charged far too much for my dad or me to afford. So I took matters into my own hands and decided I would learn magic myself and help others like me to be comfortable in their own skin.”

“That’s a noble cause. It’s almost like what I wanted to do with having a magic school.”

“Oh?”

“I always felt like it was unfair that so many people missed out on the chance to use magic. Being half-fae, I was surrounded by it for my entire life. The council keeps track of who can use magic and is worthy of using it, but the only people able to use it are the rich nobles with all the access to tutors and stuff. It’s like having only certain men be knights, instead of allowing anyone who wants to fight to take up arms. There are so many people out there with the potential to be great, but because of how they were born, they will never have a chance to reach that potential.”

“You care a lot about people.”

“So do you.”

“I suppose that’s a good thing.”

The two sat silently as they ate, but the silence between them felt comfortable. However, Logan found himself once again questioning what he felt towards Virgil, whenever he glanced over at him. His heart seemed to both beat faster and sometimes skip beats altogether. Especially since they were sitting so close together at the moment. They were so close that their knees kept on brushing against each other.

"Uh, Logan?"

"Yes?"

Virgil tugged at his cape's hood. "Can I… ask you an important question?"

Logan tilted his head to the side curiously. "Sure."

"W-"

“Hey, do you two want seconds?” Remus yelled, interrupting the boy’s conversation. “Or can I have the rest?”

“Remus, if you eat all that you’ll get a stomach ache,” Patton warned.

Ignoring his boyfriend’s worry, Remus asked, “Who bets I can finish this in five minutes?”

“You’re an idiot,” Janus stated blankly.

“And a coward. Aim for three!” Roman encouraged.

Logan shook his head. “Well, hopefully, Remus’s antics are the worst things we’ll have to worry about.”

Virgil shrugged. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

---

The next morning, after an unpleasant wake-up call from Roman screaming, because Remus had drenched him in water, everyone got up and continued their trek to the cave where the special fruit Remy wanted, grew. Janus and Roman were taking the lead, bickering about something between themselves, with Willow, Remus and Patton walking close behind them, and Virgil and Logan tailing everyone. Willow and Remus would dash away from the group every now and again to grab flowers for Patton so that he could make them all flower crowns. Which was hard to do while walking but he seemed to be managing.

Logan noted that Virgil still seemed very tired. “Not a morning person?”

“Does staying up until five am count?”

“Wh- no! That’s actually a bit concerning. Please don’t tell me you were up until five then only slept two hours before we started walking.”

“I won’t tell you that then.”

“You need sleep, Virgil.”

“I’ll be fine. I have a bit of midnight elixir from Remy that should wake me up.”

Logan shook his head. “What on earth kept you up so late?”

Virgil shrugged. “Thoughts. My mind was feeling really busy last night. Thinking about… everything.”

“Are you worried about what’s going to happen when…” Logan trailed off.

“Kind of, but I’m sure it’ll be fine. After all, I’ve got both my parents to support me through it. Plus all of you… if the others are as accepting as you.”

“Your race won’t change how they see you, Virgil.”

“You can’t know for sure.”

“Perhaps it’s not a guarantee but the chance of them being loyal is infinitesimal.”

“So small.”

“What, no. That would be the chance of them rejecting you.”

“Then why would you say infinitesimal? It means extremely small.”

“Wait, what?”

“Y-yeah… Logan, did you not know what infinitesimal meant?”

“…”

“Oh my gods, you didn’t.”

“Don’t laugh at me! I don’t know everything and that’s perfectly normal.”

“Well, yeah, but you’re like a super genius.”

“You think I’m a genius.”

“Of course. You’ve proved it time and time again. You’re incredibly smart. In fact, the chances of you not knowing something are… infinitesimal.”

Logan glared. “How dare you use a compliment to tease me, you… sparkly-eyed jerk.”

“My eyes sparkle?”

“When you’re happy, yeah. They look kind of like stars.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you were such a romantic.”

Logan froze. “I didn’t mean to cross any boundaries-”

“You can say I have nice eyes, L. I only meant the poetic kind of romantic. I’m sure you weren’t trying to flirt. Unless you were?”

“I- uh, no. I mean you are quite attractive and I-” Logan stopped himself before he could accidentally confess anything more.

“So you do think I’m attractive at least.”

“...Yes.”

“Well, thanks. I feel the same way about you.”

Logan blushed. “O-oh… thank you...”

The rest of the walk was silent as Logan tried to calm his heart rate down. He was concerned with how fast it was going considering the casual pace they were travelling at. Subconsciously though, he knew that it was what Virgil had said that made him feel like this. He could pretend all he wanted, that there was something else wrong, but he knew that the cause of all this was his feelings towards a certain grey-eyed boy.

The fact that they had almost just flirted with each other was really not helping him. Especially since he wanted so badly to actually flirt with him. He wasn’t exactly sure of his full attraction to Virgil but he liked the idea of flirting with him. Exchanging compliments and maybe holding hands or even… kissing him? That idea made his heart skip a beat.

So basically he was having a gay panic all the way up to the cave. The one thing that distracted him from completely freezing was looking at his surroundings and categorizing all the plants he saw. Beside the cave entrance, he noted there were some berry bushes growing. Then, he saw a pebble fall from above the entrance and glanced up to see what had pushed it.

Time seemed to slow down when Logan saw the boulder perched there. It looked like it was about to fall and crush Virgil, Patton and him before they got into the cave. He grabbed Virgil’s wrist and pushed Patton ahead of them as quickly as possible to get inside of the cave before the boulder came tumbling down with a bunch of other large rocks that now sealed the entrance.

“Holy- are you guys okay?!” Willow asked.

“Pat!” Remus ran to Patton’s side immediately and helped him up.

“I’m okay, I’m okay. Logan saved us.”

Virgil stared wide-eyed at the rocks. "By Ysla’s bow, that was close. Are you alright, Logan?”

“I’m fine. Just glad I saw what was going to happen before we got squished.”

“How the hel did that even happen? There’s no way that was a coincidence,” Janus commented.

“Well, I don’t know what else it could have been. Maybe that was the big trouble that Remy was worried we’d get into,” Roman said.

“Good thing we have the porthole spell to get home then. I don’t think that there’s any way we could get back through here without it taking half an eternity,” Willow declared.

After that scare, the group continued on deeper into the cave. They knew the tree grew in a central chamber surrounded by glowing moss. There was some of this glowing moss on the walls, illuminating their path so they didn’t have to use a light spell or anything.

Soon enough, they reached the chamber. From there they just had to get the fruit from the tree, make a porthole, and go home for their after party. Except there was one problem.

A giant mole.

“I think we’re cursed.”

---

A/N: thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this. I'll be posting two chapters a day until the full fic is up, so if you want to be tagged, you can just ask.

I'd love to hear what you thought about the chapter if you wouldn't mind commenting. Thanks again for reading! Here's hoping you have a magical day 💜

[tired-college-student-writing]

Tim’s Secret Weapon Pt. 5

I’ve been slightly obsessed with @ozmav​ ‘s Damian Wayne/Marinette Dupain-Cheng pairing as of late, and just saw a post that has inspired me more than anything else has in months, so I felt the need to write it

Summary- Tim has always seen the numbers floating above people’s heads, been able to perceive their threat levels with a single glance. After being a hero for so long he thought he was desensitized to seeing high numbers above people’s heads until Damian brings a new friend home. Part 1 Part 4 Part 5 (HERE) Part 6 _______________________________________________________________________ Dick got a look on his face. 

A pinched sort of look that made it look like he was thinking something over intently.

It was a look that filled all of the Bats and anyone that knew him from his Robin days with a sense of dread.

“Dick…” Jason drew out slightly, “What are you thinking?” 

“I’m going to do a thing,” He replied almost offhandedly, “Since she hasn’t seen us yet.” 

“Don’t-” Damian didn’t even finish since Dick had already disappeared, causing Tim to bury his head in his hands. 

“God that’s annoying,” The other three found themselves groaning in unison, their own inside joke even as found his path almost instantly.

The eldest son snuck through the crowd of teens unnoticed, surprisingly. Most would think that one would notice the thirty-year-old right outside the secondary school, but he easily weaved through the crowds and worked his way behind the baker’s daughter. 

Marinette was too involved in his conversation with the blond to notice Dick grinning mischievously at her from behind the half wall she was leaning against. 

In a swift move, the acrobat grabbed her and lifted her onto his left shoulder in one fell swoop, earning a high pitched squeal from the girl as he spun in a circle perched on the half wall and drawing almost all of the attention of the whole courtyard.

“Hello, Mari!” He greeted casually as if her hands weren’t twisted into his hair in her shock. 

She blinked down at him, taking a few seconds to register what was happening before her face morphed into fond irritation, “Seriously, Richard?” 

The blond, Neon Green 15, she had been talking to was staring in between them as if he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be concerned or bemused. 

“Ummmm… What’s going on?” the buff boy, White 12, from nearby asked, hand raised slightly. 

Marinette glanced around and groaned as she realized that her entire class was staring at her up on top of Dick’s shoulders. 

“Everyone, this is Dick” Marinette introduced, “He’s a family friend of sorts. Dick these are my classmates.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Dick greeted waving a hand happily with Marinette still balance on one shoulder. 

“Should have known Mari was skanky enough to get with a guy twice our age.”  The Batfam stiffened and turned to look at the origin of the voice. It was the girl Tim pointed out earlier as being dangerous, Copper 9, a wide smirk on her face as her posse snickered. None of them had to turn to feel the bloodlust boiling off of Damian, not that they would deny the red tinge to their vision. Marinette had wilted in a millisecond. 

“Told you that was a bad idea, Grayson,” Damian snapped as the other three walked over much calmer than they were feeling. 

Marinette lit back up at their appearance and started poking Dick’s cheek.

“Put me down. Put me down. Put me down. Put me down. Put me down.” 

“Okay, Okay!” He laughed as he lifted her off his shoulder and passed him easily to Jason. 

Jason grinned, holding her on his hip, “Hey Marigold,” 

“Jay!” She giggled giving him a hug, “Not the brother I wanted, and don’t hand me to Tim cause he looks like he hasn’t slept this week and I don’t want to be dropped.” 

Jason clutched his chest, “That’s so mean, sunshine! Though you’re right about Tim.”    

“Rude,” Tim grumbled, but couldn’t stop the grin that came to his face, “but hug the devil spawn before he tries to rip our arms off.” 

Damian glared at him, but as soon as  Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck he softened, placing a kiss on her hair, “Missed you, Habibiti,” 

“Missed you too, Dames,” She giggled, excitement bubbling, "What are you guys even doing here? I know you don't like to travel too much." 

Jason cut in, "Bruce was inspecting the Paris branch, so we just decided to tag along." 

"Oh, Bruce is here too? I'll have to make some of those strawberry cream macaroons he likes."  

“Brothers? Wow, that’s a new low,” 

“Who the fuck are you?” Jason finally snapped, glancing over at Copper 9. 

“Who are you?” one of the other girls standing with her, an obnoxious orange 5 twisting over her, asked, phone pointed at them,  “Cause showing up to a high school isn’t exactly a good look for post-college graduates, mister.” 

“Well going from oldest to youngest, He’s Dick, as Mari already said, I’m Jason, that’s Tim, and the twerp that’s snuggling up to Marigold is Damian, her boyfriend.”  

“We’re brothers,” Dick added, as the group around the two girls looked stunned while many of the others perked up. 

“This the guy you’ve been telling us about huh?” The tiny pink-haired girl, Icy Blue 13, comments, giving Damian a considering look. 

Buff White 12,  next to her smirked at them, “You do go for the lookers, huh, Nette?” 

A red-haired boy, a lavender 4, laughed softly, “I thought he’d be taller,”

“Since when do you have a boyfriend?!” Orange 5 yelped, causing Mari to roll her eyes as she finally pulled away from the youngest Wayne. 

“I’ve been telling you, Alya,” Marinette snapped making the boys blink. There was actual venom in her voice, ice pointily aimed at the other teen. Marinette never had real heat in her words, not even with the Rogues, “I started dating him a year ago, but you didn’t believe me.” 

“Two soon,” Damian piped in, looking smug at the flabbergasted group. 

“But you’re into Adrian!” 

The blond boy, Adrian, Neon Green 15, frowned, “She and I are just friends. She’s been trying to get me with my crush for the last six months? Why on earth would you think she had a crush on me?” 

Marinette shrugged, “I mean I did, but I got over it around your fourteenth birthday.” 

“Wait,��� the boy got a look of realization on his face, “Is that why you always stuttered around me?!” 

“Oh my god!” Icy Blue 13 cried, “You can’t tell me you’re seriously that dense!” 

“Homeschooled Alix!” He snapped back, “I was homeschooled by a recluse!” 

“But if she’s not in love with Adrian,” The pixie cut blonde, Buttercup Yellow 3, questioned trembling slightly, “ Why has she been so mean to Lila?” 

“Perhaps,” the nerdy boy, Nerdy White 12, pushing up his glasses, “Marinette’s feeling towards Lila has something to do with the fact that Lila’s claim of having a disease that causes her to do or say things she does not mean to can only be labeled as Compulsive Lying and yet half of the class believes every story that she tells and gets upset at anyone that dares to question her.” 

“Shut it, Max,” Alya growled, “This has nothing to-” 

“Utterly ridiculous,” The blonde girl, Canary Yellow 14 over her head, cut in without looking up from her phone, “You can’t seriously tell me this has nothing to do with Dupain-Cheng questioning Rossi’s idiotic stories.”

“No one cares about your opinion, Chloe,” Lila purred with an ugly scowl, “Or is it Chealse? I can’t keep up since your mother never seems to get it right.” 

“Yeah, no,” Chloe continued, “That insult is like a year and a half too late, and I don’t have to do anything but ask questions.” 

“What are you playing at, Bourgeois?” 

Chloe looked up from her phone, eyes going to the group surrounding Lila, “At lunch, Lila was talking about her new boyfriend, right? Who feels like reminding everyone of who that was?” 

The ginger girl, Tan 4, piped up, “She’s been dating Damian Wayne for the last month! They met at a conference for her nonprofit in Achu.”  

Tim couldn’t stop the snort that escaped from him as Damian’s face twisted into disgust. Marinette’s hand covered her mouth to cover her smile but Dick and Jason didn’t even try to stop their laughter from shaking their frames. 

“Of all the fucking people!” Jason wheezed, “You pick him!” 

“Hey! Don’t laugh it’s romantic!” Canary Yellow 3 cried, tears pricking her eyes. 

“Isn’t it Rose?” Lila cooed, eyes narrowed at the laughing group, “Dami-bear is such a sweet man.” 

Chloe hummed, eyes sparkling, “I bet he is, but I have another question.” 

“What?” 

Instead of answering Alya’s question, she turned to the group that was laughing even harder, Dick and Jason were only standing from clutching to each other as they repeated, ‘Dami-bear’ over and over again. 

“Do you boys happen to still have your passports on you?” 

Tim held up a single finger as he tried desperately to regain his breath. 

“What are you playing at, Chloe?” Alya snapped after a tense moment. 

“Her point,” Damian growled, and suddenly Tim had a giggling Marinette leaning against his shoulder as the younger man stalked over “Is that I’ve never been to Achu.” 

He thrust his passport into her camera lens. 

Damian Wayne standing out from the page in stark clarity. 

"Oh that note," Tim piped in, smirking slightly as he watched her nine wavier in place as if ready to flick down. Oh, how her tower of lies was crumbling, "using the Wayne to further yourself or claiming that one of us is cheating on anyone can be considered Defamation so I would suggest that you retract any statements you've made before we're forced to talk to our lawyers." 

They didn't stick around to see the effect the pronouncement beyond the sickly color Lila turned as her whole posse turned to stare at her in disbelief. Alya looked panicked as the boys grabbed Marinette, who was practically vibrating with nervous energy and herded her towards their car. 

Alfred raised an eyebrow, "Did you enjoy yourselves, sirs?"  

"You know it!" Dick laughed, as they snapped their seatbelts. 

"I hope they didn't cause too much trouble, Miss. Marinette." 

"Hello Alfred," She greeted lightly even as her shoulders pulled up next to her ear, "It's nice to see you, and don't worry, they fixed a problem for me."

Tim wanted to ask, and he could see his brothers did as well, but Marinette shook her head. 

"Can we go to where you're staying? I think my classmates are going to break out of their stupor soon and I don't want to face them yet." 

Alfred's eyes were hard in the rearview mirror, but his voice was as level as ever, "Of course, Miss Marinette. Master Bruce actually would like to meet you at the hotel we're staying at." 

"Let's not keep him waiting then,”

______________________________________________________________________ 

Telling Marinette they knew she was Ladybug could have gone in a lot of different ways, they were aware of this, and had planned for a multitude of them to try and ensure an easier time of getting the girl used to the fact that they knew and were in fact Superheros too. 

What they weren’t expecting was for Marinette to pale the second Damian spoke the words, “We know you’re Ladybug,” and flip the platter of sweets into his face, effectively cutting him off before sprinting to the window screaming, “Spots on!” 

They were not expecting a bright pink light to overtake her, nearly blinding them. 

Tim was not counting on the fact that he could see her number through the blinding light as it faded to pure white as the numbers climbed higher and higher, vanishing once they reached 99, the light fading in the next millisecond to reveal Ladybug in all her glory. 

They were not expecting her to open the 80th-floor window of their hotel suite and throw herself out of it, yo-yo catching the next building and flinging her away faster than humanly possible. 

“Well,” Jason drawled, eyeing the carnage, “That went well.”

_______________________________________________________________________

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[leotssukinaga]

It’s Nice to Have a Friend

Kozume Kenma x Reader

Summary: Based on It’s Nice to Have a Friend by Taylor Swift. You and Kenma are childhood friends, but something else has been blooming for a long time. Word Count: 2113 A/N: I was gonna put this song on the songfic list, but I already knew I wanted to write it for Kenma so I didn’t. Finally got round to that. Also can y’all tell he’s my favourite character to write dksdg Warnings: Alcohol and drinking.

It's been like this for as long as you can remember, even after he started playing volleyball Kenma always walks you home. In middle school you'd sit in on practice, walking home with him afterwards, and he'd often stay for dinner at your parents behest. Now you're in high school there's no need since you only live 5 minutes from Nekoma's campus. He walks you home anyway. There are many things Kenma will never admit to you, the first being that he doesn't actually have an extra ten minutes before practice, he just doesn't mind rushing if it means he knows you're safe. You'd spent the first year of high school insisting that you'd get home fine on your own, or that you didn't mind waiting, but he never listened to you. He had time, he said, and nothing about his tone suggested that it was a lie. It was, but Kuroo never teased him too much for his sacrifice (or at least if he did, Kenma just tuned him out.) Tonight though, there's no practice, and the setter waits at his desk for you to pack up once class ends. He knows you always take a moment, the array of coloured pens you use (because notes should be colour coded to make studying easier, you’d insisted in your second year of middle school) take time to put away. You tuck the note he'd passed you earlier into your pocket. You always keep them. He doesn't know that. The smile he gives you as he holds a hand out to carry your bag is barely visible, but it's certainly there, and warmth spreads through your chest at the sight. 

Snow swirls around you, settling in your hair and on your lashes as your rummage through your bag for your hat and gloves. Kenma can't stop himself from staring at you, the light reflecting off the half melted flakes giving you an ethereal glow. If you weren't half freezing to death, he'd want to stay like this forever. Your cheeks are rosy from the cold as you triumphantly wave your hat around, but your grin soon fades as you realise your gloves are nowhere to be found. Kenma doesn't say a word as he removes one of his, placing it in your hand. He's refusing to make eye contact, and given the weather it's hard to tell whether the red on his cheeks is a blush or not. You know better than to argue, slipping the glove onto your right hand and thanking him quietly. 

As the two of you reach your street, you notice a pair of colourful cat ears on a patch of ground untouched by snow. Your neighbours 6 year old had been drawing on the sidewalk this morning when you left for school, the weather having changed unexpectedly, and you pouted a little knowing her lovely drawing would be ruined. Kenma's features turned puzzled as you ran to the spot, kicking the snow away and grinning when you realised the drawing hadn't been too affected by the snow. He watched in confused amusement as you snapped a few pictures of it and emailed them to your printer. "Why?" "I thought it would be a nice thing to give to her. She's only little, she must've been devastated when she realised it would be washed away." There are many things Kenma will never admit to you, and the second is that moments like this- where you do things just for the sake of being kind, where you smile at him and explain your kindness like it's the most obvious thing in the world- are the moments he lives for. He'd give up video games to see you like this one more time. The snow is coming down heavier as you reach your front door, and you pull him under the portico to protect him. "Wanna hang out?" "Yeah, sounds like fun." Your smile is as radiant as ever as you insert the key into the lock, calling out for your parents once the door is shut behind the two of you. One day he hopes he'll walk through the front door of your own shared house, or that it will be your kids calling for you as you prepare dinner together, but at the moment it seems like nothing more than a pipe dream. For now, he's content with what you have, building things in Minecraft, kicking his ass at Mariokart, logging into Elder Scrolls Online together after practice. In the summer you could occasionally coax him outdoors, although the closest you'd gotten him to indulging in your love of camping was a tent in your back garden. (He hadn't liked it, but you were so happy he couldn't complain, and waking up in that close proximity to you had made his heart swell.) He stays the night, the snow far too heavy for him to make it home, and around 3am you roll over to face him. "Hey Kenma?" "Yeah?" "Its nice to have a friend." "Yeah, it is." The glow of your alarm clock illuminates your faces enough to make the smile you share visible. It’s the last thing you see before you fall asleep. 

When college rolls around, it surprises nobody that you'd picked the same one. Even if you hadn't made a conscious decision to go together, you've always been synchronised. Two sides of the same coin, your parents had commented more than once. Your smile had been contagious when you announced that you got in, and he'd seemed genuinely energetic for once as he announced that he had too. 

Neither of you are much for parties, too many people and definitely too much noise, but that doesn’t mean you can't have your own fun. He'd been confused and a little apprehensive when you'd pulled him up the stairs and onto the roof, but it soon became clear what you'd planned out. Several bottles of alcohol sit in the centre of the large picnic blanket that's stretched over the concrete surface of the rooftop, both of your Switches, a few board games and, of course, Uno neatly arranged next to them. A bluetooth speaker softly plays a mix of both your favourite songs, and a grin spreads across his oft emotionless face as he takes it all in. It's his idea of the ideal party- one with nobody but you- and the look on your face tells him you knew that. "What d'you want to drink?" "Whatever you're having..." You hand him a bottle of something blue, and he's surprised at the sweetness when he takes a sip. "So, 20 questions or Uno?" "Why not both?" "I knew you were secretly a genius." 

He admits, once the alcohol has made its way into his system a little more, that the stress has been piling up recently, that he really needed this to unwind, that you always seem to know exactly how to fix things even just for a moment. He attempts to retracts the statement once you kick his ass at Uno, but the way you giggle makes his heart beat and the way your lips glisten with the stray drop of vodka that lingers after you take a sip brings back the years of daydreams he's had about kissing you. The sky is turning pink, but the late hour doesn't matter anymore, not when you're in your twenties and you don't have class tomorrow. "Its pretty like this." "Yeah, you are." "Hm?" "Uh- nothing. The sky is nice." You decide to let it slide.  "Yeah, it's a really good colour. I think it might be one of my favourites..." There are many things Kenma will never admit- the third being what he’s thinking right now- that his favourite colour is the blush on your cheeks, the way your eyes shine in the light, the colour of your lips between your teeth when you're nervous. That if he had to pick a favourite colour it would simply be you. He doesn't know when he got the courage to put his hand on yours, but you haven't moved it away, and the smile on your face as you take in the sunset tells him you don't have an issue.  "Hey, Y/N?" "Yeah?" "Its nice to have a friend." He mirrors your words from a few years ago, the meaning behind it deeper than before. You grin, pink and purple illuminating your beauty, and after 15 years of knowing you he's found no evidence that you aren't an angel. He doubts there is any. "Yeah, it is."

It's always been like this, you smiling at Kenma and him smiling back- a smile that nobody else gets to see. Today, everyone sees it, though it's meant only for you. He leans in to whisper to you as you reach him, tears in both your eyes, and though the wedding is small the love and joy you feel from everyone in the room is overwhelming. When you were 10 and he invited you over for the first time to play Zelda on his gamecube, neither of you could imagine a future where you got married at all, let alone to each other. In high school, when you showed up to his games with a red number five on a sign and his spare jacket tied round your waist (when did you steal that?) he could only dream of a day like this. There are many things Kenma had thought he’d never admit, and now he wanted to tell you all of them. Starting with the fact that your first kiss, the first time he told you he loved you, the night you fell asleep with your head in his lap- none of them could compare to how he felt right now, looking at you on your wedding day.

Bells ring behind you as white confetti gathers on the ground, and from a distance it would almost look like it was snowing. You pose for photos for what feels like hours, every possible combination and location exhausted. The reception is as beautiful as the ceremony, though far less refined, and you've just sat down next to Kenma to take a break when Kuroo pulls you to your feet, insisting it's tradition to dance with the best man. You both know it's a lie, but you've been putting up with his antics for long enough to know that your better off just rolling with it. "I've never seen Kenma smile this much, you know." "Me neither, actually." "Its because of you." "I'm glad I make him happy." "Does he make you happy?" "D'you think I'd have married him if he didn't?" "Thats the right answer."

Kenma insists on carrying you into your apartment, despite the exhaustion visible on his face, and you kiss his cheek gently as he closes the door. You make your way to the kitchen to make tea, and you don't notice him behind you until he's tickling your sides, grinning at your giggles. "You're sleeping on the couch if you don't stop!" "You don't mean that." "I do!" "Prove it." He keeps going, and you eventually concede. You'd never kick him out of bed, even if he was being a little shit right now. This playful side of Kenma didn't come out too often- but you adored when it did. You reach up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. It's mostly black now, and tied back as usual. It suits him, you think, as you cup his cheek and kiss him with all the tenderness in the world. 

The next morning starts with light flooding through your curtains and your husbands arms around you. You can feel him gently kissing your shoulder as you reach down to take his hand in your own. "Morning babe..." "Morning love." You turn around to face him, eerily reminiscent of a night all those years ago. The smile on his face is the same as it had been then. Being this close to him feels like home. "Let's stay in bed today." "I like the sound of that." You know that when it comes down to it, you'll always have him. You wouldn't want it any other way. There are many things Kenma thought he would never admit, many secrets he now wants to spill to you and nobody else, but the one thing he wants to tell anybody who’ll listen- is just how much he loves you. "Hey Kenma?" "Yeah?" "Its nice to have a friend." "Yeah." He brings your hand up to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss on each of your fingers, pausing with his lips on your wedding ring. "Yeah, it is." 

taglist: @tremendousglitterthing​ @svtbitch​ @the-fandom-ness​ @atsumumu​ (I ACTUALLY REMEMBERED THIS TIME)

[tinyhwng]

Stray Kids Reaction to you accidentally calling them “baby”

—genre; fluff x100

—msg; idk i just thought of this. also i got really invested and made hyunjin and everyone after just a bit more longer than the rest.(you can tell lmao)  anyways, enjoy!

______

Chan

it was late and you asked your bf to toss a hair tie to you

“baby can you toss me that”

you didn’t realize what you said until you saw the giggling mess your boyfriend was in

“baby huh?”

you immediately retract your statement and ask for him to forget that you had said anything

still teases you

you sigh and turn your back on him

he comes and turns the chair back towards him

“i’m sorry, are you mad?— i mean i’ve been meaning to call you that too”

now you’re the giggling mess

he smiles and admires the image of you laughing

“baby it is then”

“it’s time for bed, babygirl”

read the rest of the members under

Woojin

your relationship was still fresh and new

only calling each other by a syllable of each other’s name

you just happened to slip up this one time you asked for a drink

he was getting up to get snacks from the kitchen during your movie night

“woo, baby can you get me something cold from the fridge?”

he left without a problem, only realizing it as he grabbed the drink from the fridge

he makes his way back, going back to cuddling session yall had

“i liked the sound of that”

“sound of what?”

“baby.”

your face in shock, realizing you had slipped up

“ahaha... forget that.”

“what no, y/n- i mean, baby it was cute.”

you hide your face, blushing uncontrollably as he gives you a big squeeze

“please, keep calling me that.”

Minho

you were whipped for him 24/7 but that was nothing new

however, sometimes, you were just a little too whipped

you were watching him play with his cats and words just naturally came out of you

“omg, baby you look cute”

he turns to you, his eyes widening in shock

“y/n that’s disgusting” he teased

your own words flustered you, pressing your hand over your lips to keep it sealed

“i literally didn’t mean to say that-”

he jumps on you, cradling you

“no i was kidding.” 

his face also red from blushing

“i was thinking of names i could call you but baby sounds perfect.” he gives you multiple smooches, reassuring you that he liked it.

“you’re my baby and these are our babies” he laughs, pointing at his cats.

Changbin

he thinks you’re the most hilarious person in the world

after him of course

he just laughs or smiles at anything you say

but of course, you also found some of his jokes extremely hilarious

he makes a joke and it got your WHOLE ass quaking

bitch u couldn’t breathe

“shit, baby that was priceless-”

“fuck”

you turn to him, his face red visibly heating up

“let’s forget i just said that”

“eeeeee”

inhuman noises idk

“what? no, say it again”

he pleads, his face scrunching up in anticipation

“b-baby”

“oh em gee. call me that from now on. “

“bin-”

“it’s BABY!”

Hyunjin 

babying your boyfriend was your favourite job

you were tiny compared to him 

still, he was your BIG baby

but one time, you were in the mood to be babied instead

you wanted for his attention, his mind attentive to his phone as he watched his live performance

having one earphone on, he was too distracted to attend to you

you were gonna call him how you always did when u babied him but your tongue wanted otherwise

“baby~”

he takes a look at you, removing his earphone right away

“I didn’t catch that, y/n. what did you say?” he said, a big smirk painted across his face

you shake your head, pretending what happened never occurred

“i don’t know what you’re talking about-”

as you tried to leave to fix yourself, he tugs you back 

you fell into his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist

“i’ve always wanted to hear that from you.”

your flustered ass tried to avoid his gaze, feeling humiliated 

“i tried to say jinnie, i swear-”

“no, no more jinnie. baby is my name now.”

he pulls your face to look at his

“you have my attention now, baby.”

Jisung

you were watching him perform once

it wasn’t your first time but you were too invested to control yourself

the whole crowd was screaming so you were screaming along

not that you planned to do so

but he was asked to do some cute things and immediately after the crowd went wild

your voice was too distinctive for him to not notice though

“LET’S GO! THAT’S MY BABY!” you screamed, practically at the top of your lungs

jisung stopped midway his speech, laughing to himself hearing your voice loud and clear

after the show ended you met him backstage

he zoomed into your embrace telling him how proud u were

“can you say that thing again?” his eyes pleaded

“what thing?”

“the thing- what you were screaming earlier”

“let’s go, that’s my-” your face shift in realization

“ahhh, y/n, continue it” he whined

you hide your face, too embarrassed to say it

“ok i’ll do it then, baby. baby y/n, let’s go see the boys now”

you nod, sticking beside him he guided you to the room

“my baby is so cute.”

Felix 

constantly talking to you or talking about you theres no in between 

whipped™

he was overseas for a tour so you guys resorted to facetiming every night

it’s been almost a whole week without him and you were m i s s i n g him

 two different timezones,  he called you while it was night where he was

you could tell he was exhausted but he called you anyways

“lix, you should go and rest”

he murmurs a no, his voice getting deeper as time passed

you were running out of options to get him to rest and you didnt wanna just end the call cause it would upset both you and him

as you were calling him by his nicknames, your brain couldn’t keep up with what you were saying

lets just say mistakes were made

he jolts up immediately, screaming for your attention

“baby? is that what you call me now?”

“wait felix, no, i didn’t mean to.”

he mocks you, repeating what you said multiple times

“lix, i just wanted you to go to sleep” “my day just got a whole to better because of that”

you sigh, watching him from your phone failing to hold your smile

“i’ll go rest now if that’s what you want,” he pauses, giggling. “baby.”

“ahhh go to sleep~” you whined

“goodnight, baby”

Seungmin

seungmin wasn’t the type of person who was interested in pet names

well actually he just never mentioned it 

to you, he was more of a skinship guy

holding hands, cuddling, soft kisses, etc

there was some nights you both just expressed your current concerns with one another 

such a great relationship tbh

he was talking about his concern about the new comeback, afraid he might disappoint people

he was just hard on himself like that 

you reassured him though. telling him anything he does would never disappoint you or others

he got all blushy and giggly at your comment

your gaze fixed onto his smile, his face just a few inches from yours

“you’re so cute, baby”

his eyes expanded, turning to you

“oh crap. sorry, i didn’t mean to say that. you were just really cute” you explained

“well- i actually like it though”

“what? i thought you didn’t like pet names”

he gave you a confused look, “i never said i didn’t like them and now that i heard it from you, how could i ever hate them?”

you blushed at his comment, not knowing how to answer

“please call me that, i like it”

Jeongin

jeongin, the nation’s baby 

you always wonder to yourself how lucky you were to be a part of his life

so every second of the day you tell him how much you love him

you only called each other by your first names, never really going past that

you were going home from the dorms one night before your tongue decided to go against you

“bye, baby- i mean, jeongin” you hugged him goodbye hoping he didn’t notice your slip up

welp, good news buddy, he did

he gave you a light squeeze, refusing to let you go “wait y/n, don’t go yet” he whined

your face flushed red from embarrassment knowing it was too late to take it back now

“jeongin, i gotta go home. you have an early schedule tomorrow too”

“do you expect me to let you go after calling me that?” you can feel him giggling in your embrace 

“say it again, please, then i’ll let go”

you were defeated by his gentle yet desperate voice

“okay,” you exhaled, “baby- i gotta go now”

he squeezed you one last time before letting you go with a satisfied smile on his face

“aha! i made you say it. please say it more to me now”

you wave him goodbye as you made your way out

“bye, baby! text me when you get home”

[winchest09]

Fire and Ice

Title: Fire and Ice

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3741

Summary: It’s moving day for you and your fiance, Sam. It’s also the hottest day of the year and you need a break from unpacking...

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Smut, ice cube play, male oral, female oral, p in the v, naked Sams, sweaty hot summers day stuff...

A/N: This is a rewrite of a very old oneshot i did which needed some more love. It deserves more words, more hotness and more...well Sam. I hope you enjoy! 

A/N 2: Thank you to my beaut of a friend, @deanwanddamons​​​ who gave this a once over for me. Love you dearly.

Main Masterlist

Let me know what you think!

The sun was beating down in Kansas, the heatwave that had taken it’s hold on the city peaking in it’s mid 90’s and Y/N was just about done with it already. She sat on the edge of the opening in the back of the moving truck, her hand coming to swipe the sweat off her brow as she looked to her right, her brand new home in her sight. Today was the day she moved into her brand new home with her fiance and moving day just had to land on the hottest day of the year so far. She could have put it off and waited till the heatwave was over, but Y/N didn’t think she could last another day in her tiny apartment with her giant fiance.

So here she was, her face makeup free, her hair plaited in split french braids to keep it free from her face as she reached for the drink bottle next to her. Her body was dressed in a bikini top and high waisted shorts; it wasn’t the most suitable moving attire but she’d be damned if she would wear anything more. She couldn’t wait to shut her front door and strip. Y/N would be quite happy to walk around in her birthday suit if it meant keeping her cool. As she took a generous mouthful of water, she watched as her fiance walked back over to her to pick up the remainder of their boxes to move into their new home.

He stopped between her legs, his large hands resting against her thighs as his thumbs rubbed softly against her skin. He nuzzled his nose against her neck, pressing a soft kiss just under her jawline, before he smiled lovingly down at her. It was then that Y/N offered him her water, her eyes roaming to his bare chest before catching his gaze.

“Sammy, remind me why we chose today to do this?” she all but moaned, a playful frown on her lips as she watched him take a large swig of water.

“Because you’re a glutton for punishment,” he told her, smiling at her lovingly, “and you’re also ridiculously impatient.”

“Am not,” she mumbled, looking down at where his sweats hung low on his hips.

She missed the smile Sam gave her. “But it’s making you happy, knowing we’ve got our own place now,” he told her softly, his finger hooking under her chin to tilt her gaze back at him, “and I’d do anything to make you smile.”

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek as she felt herself blush. “Just grab that last big box, smooth talker,” she retorted, placing a quick peck on his lips as she slid herself off the back of the van, picking up the smaller box that was remaining and heading over to their new home.

She walked up her garden path, appreciating the small yard and the few rose bushes she had that lined the cobblestone walkway. It was everything she had ever looked for in a home. Spacious on the inside, cosy and inviting from the outside as well as  being situated in a quiet neighbourhood. It was perfect.

Walking through the front door, she made her way into the kitchen and placed her box on the island in the middle. She wiped her palms down her shorts before resting her hands on her hips, looking around the room and making a mental plan of what to work on first. She thought she’d start with putting away the plates and cutlery, breaking down the biggest boxes to make more room to organise the counter tops.

After an hour of unpacking, Y/N moved to stand under the vent in the kitchen, grateful their new home had air conditioning installed. She allowed the cooling breeze to wash over her as she focused on the array of things she still needed to put away. It felt like it was never ending, but she knew it would be worth it in the end. She was excited over the little things; being able to make Sam breakfast in the morning in their own kitchen, hearing the keys jingle in the lock when he got home from work after a long day, snuggling up on the couch and falling asleep. It’s what was making all of the sweaty work worthwhile.

“Y/N, baby?” She heard Sam shout, his deep voice carrying down through the hallway. “Can I borrow you for a second?”

“Sure.” She took a deep breath and pushed herself off the wall, turning the corner out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

As she approached the varnished wooden stairs, she smiled as she saw the attic ladders resting on the landing, her fiance half way up them. She didn’t mind the view, the bottom of his torso and the delectable trail of hair leading into his pants in her sights. It made Y/N bite her lip, the idea to pull his sweats down his legs and take advantage in the forefront of her mind. However, she resisted as she rested her hands on the metal of the ladder, looking up to see Sam smiling down at her.

“You alright up there?” she asked, a little playful smirk resting on her lips.

“Could you hand me that next box, babe?” he asked, his voice low and his breathing deep from the heavy lifting he’d been doing.

“You do realise my muscles are nowhere near as big as yours, right?” Y/N laughed as she turned around to see the last few boxes that were meant for storage.

Those remaining were extremely heavy and Sam, well he definitely had the physique for dealing with them. Y/N however, did not, although she would give it her best shot. She bent with her knees and huffed as she tried her hardest to lift the box up to Sam, his long fingers wrapping around the sides of the box and taking it from her with ease. They continued with the routine a few more times until there were no more containers left, and Y/N had to shake out her arms as they ached from the weight.

She watched as Sam smiled down at her, his brown hair covering his eyes slightly, some stuck to his neck with the heat as he started to descend the metal ladder. She couldn’t help but appreciate her man, the way his toned bare chest was glistening and his biceps flexed as he pushed the retractable stairs away. Y/N’s eyes followed the few beads of sweat that travelled down between his six pack to the little nestle of hair that rested just above the grey sweatpants he was wearing, causing an audible moan to pass her lips.

It was then that Sam looked at her with raised eyebrows. It was nothing new, it was actually quite common for her to make noises or comment on his body whenever he’d walk around topless, sometimes she’d run her hand over his chest just to feel how his muscles would tense under her touch. Today was no different.

“Like what you see, Y/N?” Sam smirked, knowing her all too well as he stalked towards her, noticing her stare.  

“Maybe.” She shrugged, releasing her plump bottom lip from between her teeth before flashing back a smile of her own.

Y/N walked back down the stairs before her fiance could reach her, heading straight back into the kitchen to finish off the job she started earlier. She was determined to have the kitchen sorted before the end of the day, so they could at least eat dinner in a tidy room. Even if it was just ordered takeout from somewhere close by, she wanted their first meal in the home to be perfect. The thought alone spurred her on to work faster.Having already  arranged all of the utensils on the side before she got to her last box of glassware to put away.she had left one cupboard empty just for the wine and beer glasses but she was struggling to reach the top shelf, her shorter stature not going in her favor.

Y/N rose to her tiptoes, her body stretching as she attempted to put things away. It was then that she felt her bikini slip slightly, revealing the underside of her breast to the man who was currently leaning against the doorway watching her. She hadn’t heard him sneak down the stairs nor had she noticed that he’d been leaning against the doorframe watching her for the past few minutes. It was only when she huffed and lowered her head in frustration, did she see Sam in her peripheral vision, running his tongue over his bottom lip.  

“Like what you see, Sam?” she teased, copying his earlier statement as she grinned his way. Her fiance just chuckled, pushing himself off of the door frame before walking towards her.

“You have no idea,” he growled, his eyes darkening as he made his way over to her in a few strides, his large hands laying flat on the countertop either side of her.

Y/N felt the heat of his bare chest against her back as his chin dipped to the curvature of her neck, his stubble slightly grazing her skin as he ghosted kisses along her shoulder. She couldn’t help but to lean back into his touch, her head lolling to the side to allow him more access, pleasurable sighs seeping from her lips as she focused on the feeling Sam was giving her. His fingers came to cage around her hips, leaving small indents that made Y/N feel incredibly desirable. It was then that he span her in his grasp, leaning into her that little bit more to close what remaining space there was between them.

Her hands automatically started to slide up his abdomen, feeling his muscles tense under her touch as she looked up at him from under her lashes. His lips millimeters from hers, she felt her heart beat hard against her chest. They’d been together for years and yet she still felt this wave of overwhelming desire hit her every time he was this close. Y/N allowed her hands to snake around his back, her fingernails digging into his skin as she raked them up and down his shoulder blades. Sam let out a low growl at the sensation, his fingers pressing harder into her hips as she smirked.

His hands came up to ghost over her sides, his featherlight touch causing shivers to take hold of her body before he cupped Y/N’s face, his lips dancing over hers in a teasing manner as he rolled his hips against her body. She felt his excitement through his sweats, his large hard dick nudging against her lower stomach and she couldn’t help the strangled gasp that escaped her.

That was all it took for Sam to capture her mouth in a kiss, his tongue dragging across her plump bottom lip, begging for entry as he pressed his body hard against hers. Y/N let out a whimper before allowing his tongue to snake into her mouth, her hands now coming to weave into his hair as she held him close. Fuck, she needed him.

Y/N couldn’t help but roll her hips against his, looking for any kind of friction to ease the ache that was growing between her legs, her want for her fiance taking over like a primal need as she rubbed herself against him. She lowered one hand from his head, sliding it slowly down his abdomen until she found his erection and began to palm it through his sweats. The movement caused Sam to hiss slightly, a low groan vibrating through his chest as he broke the kiss. He looked down at her with lust blown eyes before he tugged at her bikini top, pulling the knot apart and tearing it from her body, throwing it over his shoulder to the other side of the kitchen.

It was a move that made Y/N suck in her lower lip and before Sam could blink, she had slowly started to sink to her knees, her hands gliding down his chiseled body before she tugged at his sweats. She pushed them down his large, muscular thighs, moaning slightly when his cock sprung free, his perfect pink tip glistening in front of her.

She wasted no time. She reached forward and took his long, thick, length in her mouth, encouraging it all the way to the back of her throat causing a growl to sound above her. She felt how Sam’s hands threaded into her hair, encouraging it away from her face as Y/N began to bob her head back and forth, her tongue swirling around his tip. Her hands worked him at the base, her mouth doing the rest as she flattened her tongue and ran it up the underside of his dick before bringing her lips to suck at his head. The low grumble that resonated through his chest was all the encouragement she needed to continue. So, she relaxed her throat and took all of him as best as she could, resting her nose in the tuft of hair at his base.

“Fuck, Y/N!” Sam exclaimed, a low moan spilling from his lips before he withdrew his wet cock from your velvet tongue. “Baby, you’re gonna make me cum in that pretty mouth if you don’t stop.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” came Y/N’s reply, a coy smile on her lips as she looked up at him from her knelt position.

The look in his eye told her everything she needed to know and Y/N couldn’t help but squeeze her thighs together as his eyes darkened. Sam reached down for her, pulling her fastly into a standing position before wasting no time in pressing his sweaty chest against her heaving breasts, kicking off his sweats as he held her close. Her nipples were hard from the friction his body was providing as he placed his large hands under her thighs, lifting her with little ease before spinning and sitting her down on the kitchen island. His lips connected with her neck once more, trailing kisses down her body as his large palm gently pushed down her chest to lay flat on the counter. The coolness of the marbled top against her back caused a short sharp breath to bleed from her lips, but it was a sensation that was welcomed.

Sam noticed her reaction to the cold surface and a seductive smile creeped onto his lips. He saw the cooler resting next to his feet, the cooler that he had packed for provisions to help with the move in. Water, food, ice. He quickly opened the box, and grabbed for a free singular cube.

“Close your eyes,” he spoke low, his voice gruff with desire as he tried to contain himself.

Y/N didn’t need to be told twice, she trusted her fiance implicitly so she obeyed him, shutting off one of her senses as she waited with baited breath for his next move. All she could hear was Sam’s deep breathing, her spatial awareness alerted her to where she thought he could be. Yet, she didn’t expect his next move.

He brought an ice cube to her neck, the block of water already beginning to melt in his hand as he traced the edge of her jaw. He allowed it to glide over her hot skin, leaving wet trails in its wake. He gilded it over her lips, withdrawing it just as Y/N was about to take it in. He smirked at the sounds she was making, the small pants leaving her lips as he brought the ice cube lower. He pinched it with his forefinger and thumb, hovering it over one of her nipples, allowing beads of cool water to drip over her skin, each one causing her to gasp in delight. After an agonising minute, Sam placed the ice cube over her bud, holding it in place as his mouth came to place hot kisses on the opposite breast.

Y/N let out a pleasurable groan, the feeling of hot and cold was euphoric. Sam didn’t stop there, he continued to attack her body with kisses whilst he swirled the cube down around her chest, tracing a slow and sensual bath down between the valley of her breasts through to her navel. A path he followed with his warm tongue. He was killing her, in the best way possible, and he knew it.

He got to the edge of her shorts, using the ice cube to glide a route along the waistband as his free hand worked the button. In just a few seconds, he pulled them down her legs and left them in a heap on the floor. With one large palm, he spread her legs, pushing one of her thighs to the side to allow her glistening centre to come into view. It was a sight that made him groan audibly, his mouth watering as he thought about how she tasted.

The ice cube was still melting in his hand as he slid it over the insides of her legs, tracing the edges of her lips and groin as she whimpered beneath him. Y/N was already so wet for him, her arousal evident as he glided the cube through her folds, causing her to gasp audibly. He slowly circled her bud, allowing water droplets to fall like silk down her skin, pooling onto the counter beneath her. She looked delicious and Sam couldn't hold back anymore. He replaced the cube with his tongue, the warm sensation shooting through her like a bolt as she wrapped her legs around his head. Fuck, he was good.

He licked with his widened tongue from her entrance to her clit, his lips sucking, nipping and kissing at her centre as she went wild above him. Y/N gasped loudly, the feeling of his mouth hot against her skin was tantalizing and the more he continued to eat her like a man starved, the more wet she became.

“S-sam,” she stammered, feeling close to her end only to have Sam pull away, his chin wet with her excitement.

“You ready for me, baby?” Sam husked, pulling her to the edge of the counter to line himself up with her entrance, sliding it through her slick as he did so. Ice cube long forgotten as it lay between her legs, melting.

Y/N just mewled beneath him, her hands grasping at nothing as her legs hooked around the back of Sam’s waist.

“Fuck me, Sam,” she breathed, her teeth digging into her bottom lip in anticipation.

Y/N’s mouth opened in a silent, pleasurable scream as she felt him stretch her, the familiar burn feeling as amazing as she accommodated his size wonderfully. Once she’d taken him to the hilt, she clenched around him causing Sam to suck in a breath as he stilled his movements, yet she needed him to move. She needed him to fuck her across this kitchen island so she squirmed beneath him, rotating her hips in any way she could to generate any kind of friction.

Sam took the hint, one large hand coming down to hold onto her thigh as he pulled her other leg to hook around his neck. He started to thrust, hard and fast causing Y/N to squeal in delight at the feeling. Her toes were curling, her breasts were bouncing each time Sam’s hips snapped into hers, but she needed more, she needed him deeper. Y/N didn’t have to ask her fiance, he knew her body well enough by now and soon he was pulling her other leg over his shoulder, his hands pinned on her hips as he pulled her close against him. Fuck, yes.

Her orgasm was quickly approaching, the coil in her stomach close to snapping as Sam growled above her, his grip still hard on her body as he continued to thrust into her, good and hard. The sound of his balls slapping against her ass, her moans and his heavy breathing echoed around the tiled kitchen. Sam’s fingers left Y/N’s hips, trailing over to her mound as they located her clit. As she looked up at him, she saw how he was focusing on his dick sliding in and out of her. He covered his fingers in her slick before he started to work on her tiny bundle of nerves, an action that made her jolt against him, electricity coursing through her veins.

“Oh god, Sam,” Y/N gasped, attempting to throw her head back as she arched her spine.

“That’s it, baby,” Sam grunted, his fingers working her harder as he fucked her faster, “come for me, Y/N.”

With those little words of encouragement and the way he said her name, Y/N felt the explosion of ecstasy soar through her, her breathing rapid as she chased her delirium. She pulsed around him as she screamed his name over and over again. Sam’s thrusts started to falter, and she knew he was close. She continued to clench around him, milking his cock for all it’s worth as Sam spilled into her, a loud growl leaving his lips as his movements stilled.

Y/N smiled wildly, the feeling of euphoria flooding her veins was heavenly and she was pretty sure her skin was shining with that post orgasm glow. As Sam withdrew from her, she felt how his warmth left her, a happy reminder of how they had just christened their new kitchen. He offered her a dazzling smile as he reached for a towel that was close by, running it briefly under the nearby tap before coming back to clean her up, not wanting to leave her a sticky mess on such a hot day.

Sam then reached down for Y/N’s hands, gently pulling her up into a seating position, shuffling her body impossibly closer to his as he nuzzled his nose against hers. He dipped his head slightly, capturing her lips in a warm and delicate kiss as his palms splayed out across her back. With a grin, he kissed the corner of her mouth before allowing his mouth to tickle her ear.

“Happy moving day, baby.”

A/N: I hope you’ve enjoyed this little oneshot! Please let me know your thoughts by comment, reblog or just HERE! :) They mean the world! Also - my tag lists are open. Just let me know if you want to be added! Thanks for reading! xox

My Forever Babes:

@squirrel-moose-winchester​ / @snffbeebee​ / @cappsikle​ / @couldabeenamermaid​ / @spaghettiwoes​ / @lynne1993​ / @maddiepants​ / @alwaysdreamingforthebest​ / @31shadesofbrown​ / @mrswhozeewhatsis​ / @thefaithfulwriter​ / @spnbaby-67​ / @not-quite-dead​ / @blackcherrywhiskey​ / @helpmeluci​ / @myownsnowflake​ / @hobby27​ / @big-sad-energy​ / @coffee-obsessed-writer​ / @zoerayne2426​/ @ariasnyder​ / @phantom-soilder​ / @amandamdiehl​ / @geeksareunique​ / @keymology​ / @markofdean79​ / @flamencodiva​ / @jesseswartzwelder​ / @stoneyggirl​ / @cpag7​ / @heavensangel45135​ / @dapresidentsshoelaces​ / @donnaintx​ / @deanwinchesterficsx​ / @tranquility-or-chaos​ / @katehuntington​ / @miraclesoflove​ / @s-ravenall​ / @pisces-cutie​ / @chocolateheart​ / @deanwanddamons​ / @jayesdream​ / @idksupernatural​ / @talesmaniac89​ / @superfanficnatural​ / @parinarain​/ @daughterofthenight117​ / @emoryhemsworth​ / @waywardbeanie​ / @jensengirl83​ / @miss-nerd95​ / @malfoysqueen14​ / @whatareyousearchingfordean​ / @atc74​ / @akshi8278​ 

Sammy Senorita’s

*tumbleweeds* :’) 

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Decryption_Error: “Undecided”

Summary: Now that the incident in the server room is becoming a distant memory for everyone at CIStech, indecision plagues Y/N as she tries to figure out just what she wants from Elliot. The real question, of course, is what does Elliot want?

Story Summary,  “The Server Room, Part I”,  “The Server Room, Part II”  “The Long Weekend, Part I”,  “The Long Weekend, Part II”,  “The Aftermath”

Word Count: 5000

Tags: @sherlollydramoine  @rami-malek-trash  @teamwolf2411  @limabein  @txmel  @hopplessdreamer  @ouatlovr  @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @alottanothing  @moon-stars-soul  @free-rami  @ramimedley

If you want added, let me know.

Warning: Tiny mention of something R-rated toward the end

By Thursday, the office felt normal, and I was once again left to marvel at how quickly things could snap back into place. People just . . . moved on. They continued to run their daily programs and despite a hiccup in the system, they hit reboot and it was back to normal runtime.

I was no different.

Yesterday was spent looking through the applicant pool, and I had found a few good candidates. I wanted to compile a final list by the end of the day and set interviews for next week. In another two or three weeks, it would be like Julia, Aaron, and Maurice had never even existed in the world of CIStech.

DELETE 10211291.11181514.1312118935.DSET1 PURGE

<Execution_Complete>

Elliot was just as intrigued by people’s willingness to forget a traumatic event. While Tuesday night’s text conversation lasted a long time, the subject matter stayed pretty light. But on Wednesday, we ended up texting a lot about people’s reactions to what went down.

I hadn’t been sure if Tuesday night’s texts were an anomaly until my phone buzzed at exactly 7:00 pm, the same time I had texted Elliot the night before. I actually laughed out loud a little, figuring Elliot was playing it safe by repeating a previously rewarding behavior pattern.

On Wednesday, I had again left work much earlier than usual so I could head uptown to meet my father. He had asked me weeks ago to attend a benefit with him, and I had almost forgotten about it until he called to remind me in the morning. I used my lunch hour to run home and grab a dress and a pair of shoes. I was really looking forward to seeing Dad because I wanted to decompress—if there was anyone in the world I could vent my feelings to, it was him.

When he caught me smiling at my phone and trying to sneak a text without appearing rude, he told me to have Edwin, his driver, take me home and come back for him later.

“I love you, Dad,” I said as he hugged me tight.

“I want to meet the young man who makes you smile like that, sweetheart.”

I rolled my eyes but smiled at my dad’s good intention.

“If only it were that simple,” I said as the elevator doors opened.

He put his hands in his pockets and gave me a long look as the doors closed. I knew he worried I worked too much and abandoning my entire family over Memorial Day weekend did not alleviate his concern one bit. Nor did it help when I finally explained the work emergency that pulled me away.

But for the second night in a row, I found myself texting until my eyes blurred. When Elliot and I said good night, I set my alarm and immediately fell asleep, something that rarely ever happened. I felt like I could breathe freely again. Elliot didn’t seem to be harboring any ill feelings about being reprimanded, so when he and I ended up running into each other in the lobby on Thursday morning, I smiled brightly when I saw him.

We said our bland good mornings as we got on the elevator, then I asked if he had any plans for after work. When he said no, I pulled out my phone and texted him to ask if he wanted to come over.

He glanced at the other people in the elevator who were staring sleepily at the buttons of the passing floors and gave me a tiny smile before nodding yes.

I smiled back and as the elevator doors opened on our floor, he stood back to let me exit before he hurried out and grabbed the door to the office. I thanked him and we went our separate ways for the workday.

Around quitting time, there was a light tap on my door frame, and I looked up to see Elliot, his eyes alert, scanning over the room and not quite willing to focus on me yet.

“Hey—come in,” I said, unable to stop the smile that spread across my face at the sight of him.

He shuffled in, his hands thrust in his pockets.

“I need to run an errand. Will you be here . . . or should I . . .” Elliot trailed off as his eyes desperately searched mine, his own mind clearly wondering if he had imagined our conversation in the elevator.

“I’m planning on working until around 7. Do you just want to meet at that deli on Platt around 7:15? We can get a bite to eat there, then head back to my place?”

“Sure,” Elliot said in his trademark monotone, immediately turning on his heel and exiting my office.

I just shook my head and chuckled, thinking, Sure, Dad. Meet my painfully awkward boyfriend, Elliot.

Boyfriend.

My mouth went dry as indecision began to beat its ugly staccato within my mind.  

What did I really want?

Even more difficult to answer, what did Elliot really want?

A kiss in a heated moment was a lot less demanding of someone than asking them to be with you. And it was Elliot—did he even date? Despite all of our after-work conversations, we never really talked about romantic interests. It just wasn’t something that came up.

I continued to plug away at my analytics, hoping to drown out my thoughts about Elliot. I was about to see him outside of work again, and I would just have to test the waters, which was a scary prospect. If I pushed and Elliot wasn’t ready, I could knock over the foundation we had been so carefully building.

* * * * *

Elliot was waiting for me at the deli, so we grabbed a quiet, quick bite. By the time we reached my apartment and Elliot was standing in my entryway, shucking off his backpack, it was about 8:15 pm.

After he slid off his backpack, he bent to rummage around, and he pulled out my Columbia t-shirt.

I shook my head no.

“Keep it. I like knowing you have something of mine and that maybe, just maybe, you’re wearing it,” I said with a flirty grin.

“Okay,” Elliot said with a shrug as he stuffed the shirt back into his bag.

“Besides. You look good in white,” I said, knowing I couldn’t be deterred by one ignored comment. Elliot was wicked smart and could read people, but that ability seemed to diminish as he got closer to someone. I wondered if maybe that was why he kept his distance from most people—it made him feel too vulnerable.

Elliot looked at me, clearly determining whether or not I was joking.

“And you say I can’t take a compliment,” I huffed.

“You can’t,” Elliot said, seizing the shift in the conversation that would allow him to have the upper hand. “Your legs look good in that skirt,” he said as his eyes looked at me from top to bottom.

I narrowed my own eyes and replied, “Now see. I don’t know if you mean that or if you said it just to get me to say I don’t think it’s genuine, thus proving your point.”

Elliot chuckled. “Point proven. You can’t take a compliment.”

“Such an ass,” I said, smiling. “I should take back my meticulously planned evening.”

“Planned? So, this wasn’t just a random invitation?”

“God no. I have to mentally prepare for all my interactions with you,” I blurted out before realizing how terrible that sounded.

Sometimes it really was a blessing Elliot thought so much before he spoke so I could retract my foot-in-mouth statement, but unfortunately, his face was an open book. I could see the beginnings of hurt twist his features, so I rushed an explanation.  

“I don’t mean it in a bad way. Just in an ‘I think about you a lot’ way. I don’t want to say the wrong thing and have you look at me kinda like you’re looking at me now. Okay?”

Elliot’s brows contracted before he visibly turned his face back into an unreadable mask. It was remarkable to watch—like he just flipped a switch and turned off his emotion.

He nodded, but I could tell he already assigned a negative meaning to my words. I hadn’t meant it that way, but it was exhausting interacting with him at times. I still felt like I was taking one step forward, creeping along nicely, and then boom. I scared him and he bolted and we were ten steps behind where we started.

At least my indecision about pursuing a relationship with him was pretty damn warranted.

“I’m going to change,” I said. “It’s hot as fuck outside, so you may want to put on my t-shirt if you’re not wearing one under your dress shirt.”

“We’re going outside?”

“Yup!” I said, shooting him a grin.

Elliot looked at me with suspicion, but I shook my head and took off down the hall toward my bedroom. I dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top, and I slid into some flip-flops. I pulled my hair up, knowing it wouldn’t survive any more time than it already had outdoors.

I walked back out to the living room, but Elliot was nowhere to be seen. I had just enough time to wonder if I really had scared him off before he emerged from the bathroom wearing tight black jeans and my white Columbia t-shirt.

���After last Friday, I decided to keep a change of clothes in my backpack.”

“Smart,” I said, eyeing the way his jeans clung to his thighs before sliding my eyes up to his face to appreciate how the tan tone of his skin was emphasized next to the white cotton of my t-shirt.

“Can I have another clue? I don’t really like surprises.”

“Mmmmm, no,” I said, enjoying my facetiousness. “Although, I did give you a clue earlier this week.”

Elliot’s eyes moved around my apartment as he thought back, and then, his face lit up.

“S’mores,” he said with a tiny timbre of excitement in his tone as his eyes connected with mine.

“Clever kitten,” I said as I started pulling out the supplies we had bought over the weekend.

“They won’t be as good as they’d be over a real bonfire, but a charcoal grill will serve the purpose.”

We headed up to the rooftop, which was delightfully empty given there was no special occasion and the work week was still droning on. I used my key to get out the charcoal grill’s supplies from the storage on the roof.

Despite telling Elliot to sit on the couch and relax, he hovered, watching everything I did.

“And now we wait,” I said as I prodded the coals with my tongs, encouraging them to catch. “The more they burn down, the better the taste.”

I plopped on the white couch and looked toward the setting sun. Elliot joined me and we slowly built up to a steady conversation. Away from people and when he was comfortable, Elliot talked a lot. It was almost comical to think of the juxtaposition housed within his lithe little body—it was like two people lived inside of him, one of them plagued by insecurities, and the other, just a normal guy, or rather, a guy who could just about pass for normal if it weren’t for his intellect.

Elliot wasn’t just knowledgeable about computers. He kept up with the news. He had keen insights about society. And he even liked to read the classics, or really just about any book he got his hands on.  

But work was the easiest and safest topic for both of us since that was the baseline for our friendship. I finally asked Elliot how he was doing as the dust began to settle, eager to hear his thoughts in person instead of from behind the safety of a screen.

“It’s weird,” Elliot began before he broke eye contact to gather his thoughts. “People are nicer to me, or at least they seem to be going out of their way to talk to me.”

“Colin is treating you alright?” I asked, curious if he was going to be an asshole about the whole thing.

“It was him, wasn’t it? He insisted on the letter,” Elliot finished with a statement, not a question.

I was quiet for a moment, warring with myself about whether I should say anything or not. It was an HR issue, and those could be tricky, but who would Elliot tell? What damage could come from talking to the one guy who was never going to tell anyone anything?

“I know you would never say anything, but I have to say this to make myself feel better—you can’t repeat anything I say about the . . . incident.”

Elliot raised his eyebrows at me and nodded.

“Yes, it was Colin. He’s kind of a “bro,” I explained, my hands rising to make quote marks in the air. “And since you’re totally not that kind of guy, he has no even ground with you—you’re smarter than him and he can’t deal with that.”

“What makes you describe him as a “bro?” Elliot said, imitating my earlier air-quotes.

“Mmm . . . he loves every sport, plays basketball with some of the guys in the company on Saturdays. He has that arrogance about him, that unwarranted arrogance that a guy who enjoys showing off just how much of a guy he is has. He used to run every day before work and he’d come upstairs all sweaty—and I mean sweaty as in looking like he’d just gone swimming sweaty—and he’d just go “freshen up” in his office. It grossed me out so much I flat-out offered to comp him if he took time to shower at the gym and was late for work. After that, he didn’t come to work sweaty anymore. Don’t get me wrong—woo! Fitness! But gross,” I said, wrinkling my nose just remembering what he looked like and smelled like.

“Every sport?”

“As far as I know—I do think he has season tickets to the Knicks, though. When he first started working for us, he asked me to a game,” I said, volunteering the information to see what Elliot would do with it.

Nothing, of course.

“I did notice he has a Mets pennant in his office,” Elliot said, more to himself than to me.

I shrugged my shoulders.

“Like I said, he’s a dude. Or he at least wants everyone to know he’s a dude.”

“Does he have a girlfriend?”

“No. And I think that’s why he’s been extra Colin-y lately. He has a son with his ex.”

“What’s his name?” Elliot asked, quickly.

“You’re asking a lot from me because I don’t typically store information that has no relevance to myself. It’s something like Chris or Chuck or Chad?”

Elliot nodded.

“Would you want him to go—I mean, if you had a choice? Would you want Colin to leave CIStech?”

I chewed at my bottom lip a little, really considering Elliot’s question.

“I don’t know. That’s a hard question to answer. What I can tell you is that I wish I could clone JaLeah. She’s just a superfreak of an awesome person. I’ve never really met anyone as smart and dynamic as she is—she just makes everyone feel so welcome.”

“I think she’s funny,” Elliot said.

“Really?” I said smiling and arching my brow. “That’s interesting.”

“Why is that interesting?”

“I just wouldn’t have thought you would think about something like that.”

“That’s kind of insulting,” Elliot said, his voice flat and unreadable. “I do enjoy humor now and then.”

I shook my head and chuckled.

“See? I keep learning new things about you?”

“You told me I intrigued you, and that you have to figure out people who intrigue you.”

I reached out and poked at Elliot’s thigh, gently prodding.

“Is there a recording device you’re using to play back every conversation we’ve ever had?”

“I listen,” Elliot said, smiling. “Especially when people intrigue me.”

I looked at Elliot and there was a smile in his eyes even though there wasn’t one on his lips. I felt like I could drown in his grey, stormy eyes when they sparkled, housing the mischief he never really let anyone see.

Our eyes locked, intensely focused on one another for a long enough time that it made me look away, almost embarrassed. I felt sure he could see my interest, naked and wanting before him, but he just didn’t make a move—either to look away or to move closer. Just . . . nothing.

“Alright—let’s get our smores prepped,” I said, getting up to reach for the bag of groceries on the table.

As the sun set and the lights on the rooftop flickered on, Elliot and I made our smores. We laughed, well I laughed, especially when he caught his marshmallow on fire and waved the toaster fork causing the marshmallow to propel into one of the rooftop trees. He looked like a dark-haired version of Denis the Menace, and I had tears in my eyes at the expression of horror on Elliot’s face as his marshmallow went sailing.

I positioned his fork over the coals for the next round and he attentively turned the marshmallow, refusing to even take his eyes off of it until it was perfectly browned on all sides.

“Your hands are healing quickly,” I commented.

“Thanks to you,” Elliot said sheepishly, shooting me a quick smile before returning his gaze to his marshmallow.

After we ate our fill of s’mores, we got comfy on the couch as we waited for the charcoal to burn down until it was safe to leave for the night.

We didn’t talk as much, but relaxed, enjoying each other’s presence, and I sat in the middle instead of on the end so I could test the waters, occasionally brushing a light touch to Elliot’s jeans or his bare arm, and he even reciprocated some of those furtive touches as he poked fun at me, teasing me for my inability to keep the plots of all three of the Back to the Future movies straight.

Eventually I sighed, knowing it was getting late and I didn’t want Elliot getting back to his neighborhood too late. We gathered up the left-over groceries and I shouldered my tote bag.

We said goodbye in my doorway, and Elliot moved in to hug me tight. We lingered for a moment, but he moved away and quickly pressed the elevator button. I watched him get on and we waved goodnight, a small smile ghosting across his lips as the doors closed.

I shut the door to my apartment and leaned back, thunking my head against it.

Purgatory. I was stuck in indecision-purgatory. Elliot was never, ever going to make the first move. If I wanted our relationship to shift, I’d have to do it, but it felt wrong. I was the one in the position of power. It would make more sense if Elliot made the first move so I wouldn’t feel like I was taking advantage of him.

Why did this have to be so fucking complicated?

* * * * *

The next two weeks proceeded much in the same fashion. Elliot and I texted nightly, and once or twice a week, I’d invite him over. We’d come dangerously close to kissing, but then he’d just leave.

I dropped as many hints as I could, especially about workplace romances. I talked about how Miles (my boss) and Jayne (my secretary) had gotten together, hoping Elliot would pick up on the comparison.

If he did, he never said a word.

So, my fear of losing him as a friend left me to continue writhing in indecision. I loved how close Elliot and I were getting, and if I scared him by moving too quickly, I’d lose the first good friend I’d made in a long time.

And what was really funny was that I was certain if I talked to Elliot about this, he’d get it. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Little did I know, fate was about to lend a hand; it was just too bad that fate was such a fucking bitch.

* * * * *

“You can’t be serious!” I laughed, finishing the last of my drink.

JaLeah nodded with emphasis, and we all burst into a fresh round of laughter.

Friday happy hours were always a fun way to wind down from the work week. We had a nice mix of people who went regularly and it was well known I always bought the first two rounds. People like Miles, singularly focused climbers, always underestimated the power of building relationships. That was one of the reasons why what happened with Elliot had stuck with me—I thought I had a better team than that.

People did seem to be closer now, more inclusive. There were several new faces at tonight’s gathering, and as I listened to the chatter around me, my thoughts drifted to one particularly attractive face that was not here. People’s voices became background noise as I thought about Elliot and I felt myself wishing he were here. I knew he’d hate every second of it, but he really was, albeit inadvertently, the reason for tonight’s greater sense of comradery.  

Sometimes, I truly did believe the universe revolved around me, but only so it could fuck me over for one hell of a laugh. Just as I was a million thoughts deep into Elliot, he walked in through the door, close on the heels of Sarah, his hands shoved in his pockets. When he got inside, his big eyes found mine almost immediately and as I coughed, choking a little on my drink, JaLeah looked to see what distracted me.

Her grin was wolfish.

“Don’t say it,” I warned, my voice low so as not to draw the attention of the others at our high-top table.

“I cannot believe he came,” JaLeah said, drawing attention because even when she believed she was whispering, she never was.

“Holy shit—Elliot’s here,” someone said from a few seats down.

“Don’t make a big deal,” I said in their direction as I watched Sarah and Elliot make their way across the bar to our tables.

Elliot ran a hand through his hair as his eyes glanced around as if he were checking for exits. More than a few eyes gave him a once over as he approached and I felt a pull of jealousy. Logically, I knew people were looking at him more out of curiosity than anything else, but logic wasn’t my forte when it came to Elliot Alderson.  

“Hey, everyone!” Sarah said, her smile bright and a bit nervous. “Look who I dragged out.”

Elliot gave the table a small smile as people said hello and a few who were a few drinks in gave a little whoop, which seemed to startle the small smile off of Elliot’s face.

JaLeah almost knocked me off my stool as she pushed me to stand.

“Elliot’s new, so he doesn’t know to cash in on Y/N’s generosity yet. Sarah—you can take my seat. What are you drinking?

“Gin and tonic, please!”

“You got it,” JaLeah said as she pushed Elliot and I toward the bar.

“Hey,” I said, once we were standing at the bar, our bodies pressed together thanks to the crowd.

“Hey,” Elliot said, his voice barely audible as he rested his hands on the edge of the bar, his fingers pressing into the hard surface.

“What can I get you to drink? I always buy the first two rounds for anyone at CIStech who shows up.”

“What are you drinking?”

“Vodka, cran. You want that?”

“Sure,” Elliot said, his eyes still refusing to settle on any one thing.

I reached over and rested my hand on his forearm.

“Are you sure you’re okay with being here?”

“Guess you can’t hold my hand all night this time,” Elliot said as his eyes flicked to mine.

I laughed.

“No, I suppose not. But, if you sit next to me, I’ll see what I can do,” I said as I winked at him.

Elliot smiled softly.

I put our drinks on my tab, along with Sarah’s. JaLeah had already dropped off Sarah’s drink and came back to say she was pirating the corner booth because our table was full and a few more people just showed up.

We followed JaLeah and I let Elliot scoot in before me. We crammed in and I shot Elliot a smirk as our bodies were forced to press nearer to each other. Elliot’s hand was fiddling with his drink until I reached down to pinch lightly at his outer thigh. His hand shot under the table and I gave it a squeeze before shooting him another look. He genuinely smiled as he realized we could hold hands without alerting anyone to our activities, except maybe JaLeah, but I wasn’t worried about her since she knew how I felt about Elliot without me ever having said a word.

As it turned out, the folks who joined us in our booth were good company. JaLeah kept the conversation light and fun, like always, and I could even feel the vibrations of Elliot’s chuckles on occasion.

“You know, JaLeah,” I began. “Elliot thinks you’re quite funny.”

JaLeah raised an eyebrow and said, “It’s about time people truly appreciated my wit, so thank you, baby.”

Elliot grinned at her, either because he’d had a few drinks or because he genuinely liked JaLeah, and said, “You could be a character in an Oscar Wilde play.”

The table laughed and one of the tech’s jumped on the reference to talk about the new play based on Wilde’s life that had just opened.

I leaned over, my lips dangerously close to Elliot’s ear, and said, “See? This isn’t so bad.”

Elliot’s pinky wrapped around my own and squeezed, and I gave him a sweet smile before turning back to the others.

It was one of those nights when people just seemed to be having a great time. We ordered appetizers. The waitress kept our drinks filled. The conversation never lulled, and bursts of laughter kept peppering the air. Before any of us knew it, it was 9:00 and a few people at our table started checking their phones with more frequency.

“Shit—I forgot my wife’s parents were in town. She’s gonna kill me,” Travis, one of JaLeah’s techs said.

“I told my boyfriend I’d be home an hour ago,” another tech said, giggling.

“It’s been a minute since we’ve had such a good night out,” JaLeah said. “See, Elliot? You should come more often.”

“It was cool to hang out,” Travis said. “You’re usually so intense at work—kinda like the big boss,” Travis finished with a chuckle.

I could feel Elliot’s fingers brush against mine. We had been playing this touching, not really, sometimes definitely, game all night and I was wet. I was appalled at myself for being so turned on just by proximity, but I couldn’t stop thinking what if this were normal? What if Elliot were mine? What if we went home together at the end of the night?

“There’s nothing wrong with taking work seriously,” I said, smiling. “That’s why I am the big boss.”

Travis and the others laughed.

We settled our bills and said our goodnights, but I noticed Sarah lingering at the door, clearly waiting for Elliot.

“I think we take the same line home,” she said smiling up at him as we reached her.

Elliot’s hands found their way into his pockets, the material of his dress shirt bunching a bit as he shoved them in.

“I take the 6,” Elliot stated, tension creeping into his voice.

JaLeah was giving out hugs like candy on Halloween, and I laughed to myself. She was such an extrovert, and I appreciated her energy on nights like this. The others slowly went in their separate directions as Elliot stayed close by, Sarah still talking.

“Great! We can ride together. It’s nice to have someone to talk to on the train at night. I forgot my earbuds this morning,” she said, chattering happily.

“Actually, Y/N, I was wondering if you wanted to, uh, come back to my place...” Elliot said, his eyes focused intensely on mine.

I could feel JaLeah and Sarah, damn near open-mouthed and watching this exchange. I felt like I might throw up on my shoes for a minute and I was thankful the street was dark because I knew there was a blush coloring my cheeks. I thought quickly, and shook my head, my words tumbling out of my mouth.

“Oh! That bug—that bug you told me about. You wanted me to run the analytics on it. I’ll send you the pin for Team Viewer and we can do it this weekend—I gotta get home. Taking care of my neighbor’s cat. Probably out of food. Have a good night!” I said, grinning like a madwoman and telling myself that Elliot did not look like I just kicked him in the face.  

I waved to the three of them and took off for my train, thankful it was in the opposite direction. I turned around to see Elliot and Sarah headed in the same direction. I almost tripped over my own foot as JaLeah jumped up and down and mouthed “What the fuck, Y/N?! What the fuck?!”

I shook my head, turned around, and doubled my steps. I felt sick to my stomach. Fate had just laid an opportunity bare, spread eagle on the floor, and I walked away.

By the time I jumped onto my train and collapsed into a seat, I was fighting back tears. The look on Elliot’s face haunted me. I really, really hurt him—and I wasn’t sure I could fix it this time.