#also sorry this has so much like . eye contact shenanigans i just realized i usually think of scenarios in more of a comic form i guess

[wheres-my-pencil]

surprise surprise i kinda actually kept writing by accident again fhsbfh. i never write like. fanfiction fanfiction or anything so this is new to me and will probably still be trash but i like this chapter (?) a little bit better :] keep reading to . well. keep reading fjfhdf. this is now 2/2, it's kinda finished now 💥💥

maybe stanley can only be expressionless at the discovery, and maybe it scared the narrator a little. he has no idea what stanley is thinking. he never does. he pretends he does so that nothing stanley might really feel about him could hurt him, or god forbid, reach him. he insults him to keep him at a safe distance.

stanley notices the narrator curl in on himself upon approaching, or maybe just at the thought of stanley seeing him be so .. embarrassing...

god, how could he let this happen.

stanley steps back to where he was and raises his hands in promise of peace, as if facing a scared animal.

they stay at a tense stalemate for a few seconds. the narrator looks at stanley's hands with a glint of hope in his eyes, and then swiftly looks down and away. for once, the narrator is at a loss for words.

stanley cautiously walks a little closer, sits down, and waits for him to find them again.

"i truly am sorry, stanley. it's hard to admit even to myself why i would do such a silly thing," he starts to mumble, shuffling himself from his spot in the air towards the floor into more of a sitting position, "but i seem to have taken some sort of.."

he looks up at stanley and is faced with the most overwhelming feeling he's ever had at just seeing stanley so close, face to face, and seeing him stare back for real. he looks away again and braces for something.

"some sort of. possibly. non-platonic.. liking... to um. you."

stanley sits up straight suddenly. the narrator pulls his knees closer toward his chest.

"now i know what you must be thinking- and you would be right. this is simply unacceptable. there must be some..." he hides his face in his hands, "some terrible sort of- glitch or mishap in the files that messed with my head."

he then folds his arms and burrows most of his head between them. stanley scooches closer, subtly trying to catch his eyes from where they glare at the floor behind him.

"this must be sickening to you, and i apologize. with deepest sincerity."

he wants some sort of answer. he lets himself (take a minute to gather himself to be able to) stare into stanley's eyes again with a furrowed brow. they seem far deeper than they should look. he would chalk it up to an optical illusion or prank, but there's a feeling in his chest that shouldn't be physically possible either.

"it sickens me too, in a way."

stanley hasn't moved. possibly out of disgust? shock? he's unreadable. the narrator shifts his focus to the ceiling.

"i'll be sure to take this up with the developers, or i'll fix the files myself somehow. better yet, i could delete a few and it should take care of this whole m-"

a hand touches the narrator's, where it sits clenched to white knuckles on his knee. it's strange and somewhat inorganic, but it's there. it's all computer code, all part of the game, but both of them felt it. they stare at the point of contact.

the narrator looks up at him, his lips tight.

"..stanley?"

stanley follows his gaze, and once again, and the narrator is struck with the same fear he felt during the first time they accidentally made eye contact. stanley gently lifts his hand off of the narrator's, and the narrator feels like he could die.

stanley turns his palm upwards, presenting it to the scared, slightly ghostly figure in front of him. the narrator starts to unfold his arms, still stiff in the shoulders, and hesitantly places his hand in the other's palm.

"is this.. um.. pardon me but um. what exactly do you mean by this?" it was the first time he had admitted to not knowing what was going through stanley's head.

"are we... ok like this? i mean- um. goodness something really must be wrong with me."

before he gets the chance to look away again, stanley pulls their hands towards his chest and holds them there. it feels unnatural and new, and it looks a little wrong, but stanley something odd with his face. stanley has seen pictures of it around the office, so he vaguely knows it's a positive gesture. he hopes not to get it wrong.

stanley smiles at him.

"oh." the narrator finds himself smiling all weird too. a little bit wobbly on his end. "that's. strange." he wipes something off of his face with his sleeve.

"oh stanley, i think i really must be bugged."

his other hand reaches for their joined ones.

"although, i don't think i mind it too much, if you don't," he chokes through a shaky laugh.

in an attempt to answer somehow, stanley moves himself to the narrator's side and tries to mimic the situation he found himself in earlier. his head doesn't quite rest the same way on the narrator's shoulder as it would if he approached from behind, and their hands are clasped together so he can't exactly wrap his arms around the man, but this was nice too.

and with the narrator leaning his head on stanley's, it seemed to have worked as an answer.

(read more for a short pseudo-fic?? that i wrote kinda by accident?? it's kinda shit and doesn't have anything about stanley and it's mostly just describing a half baked idea but have it if you want. also this has definitely been done before but whatever)

au where the narrator, unbeknownst to stanley, finds out that he can be physically affectionate in a form that stanley can't see or feel.

after countless careful testing of stanley's reactions to confirm this, he starts to casually sort of. walk side by side to him and brush their hands together.

after a few hundred resets, he's at a point where he constantly holds hands (phases them through each other) with stanley as he yammers on as usual. sometimes he floats around him in circles and studies the folds in his clothes and the way stanley moves, still blabbering about, until, carefully, he leans reeeal close to stanley's face. he takes in every wrinkle and dimple, every reflection across his eyes, and watches the way his character model's hair sways a little as he walks, still pretending to have some sort of strong opinion about whatever he's talking about. once again, he starts to do this regularly.

when stanley happens to look at something that lines up their eyes to seem like eye contact, the narrator gets all freaked out and goes strangely quiet. he makes up some excuse (let's see here.. the next door is .. hmm .. .. (the first time it happened he actually did get them both lost)), and the next few times it happens, he starts rambling faster, trips over his words, and flusters himself in his own monologue.

after another few hundred resets he calms down and gets used to the fake-outs and gradually forgets it was ever even a worry.

during one reset in this peaceful phase, the narrator hugs him from behind, wraps his arms over his shoulders and around his chest, and sighs somewhat like a dog as he rests the underside of his chin on stanley's shoulder.

of course, sighs of yearning and disappointment sound similar enough that this one fit nicely for his current monologue. in fact, he starts getting so caught up with sarcastically praising stanley for staying in the employee lounge for more than two whole minutes, that as he leans into his face, yawning mid-sentence from the pseudo-warmth of stanley's neck and left cheek, he doesn't even notice that stanley has not only stayed in the same room, but hasn't moved an inch for the past five minutes.

worse yet, the narrator only finally realized when he happened to look up admiringly again, and nearly flew across the room at the sheer intensity of stanley's eyes staring dead into his own. he paused his berating. he didn't even have an excuse prepared, and he wouldn't need one, considering how stanley's first movement after the narrator's nearly endless stream of complaining was to turn to look at him where he hovered slightly above the floor, somewhat disheveled and panicked.

that's all i got for now fhdwds

[ignitedbynatsu]

He Makes You Feel Insecure ~ Natsu

A/N: Woowie it has been a while hasn’t it 😅 Writers block can be a bitch but I think I have a few more ideas for the other boys. Let me know who you want me to write for next!!

warnings: insecurities (he makes you feel like you feel like your magic isn’t compatible, cursing

genre: angst to fluff

Other versions:

Gray ~ Laxus ~ Cobra/Erik ~ Bickslow ~ Gajeel ~ Jellal ~ Freed ~ Sting ~ Rogue

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Tension had been running high for Natsu when his fire attacks had been cancelled one after the other by the wind magic user, but when you were the one that accidentally nullified his attack with your water magic, that’s when he completely snapped.

You had taken note of the rising irritation in your boyfriend's behaviour, and you thought that he hadn’t noticed the attack coming his way so in the heat of the moment you decided to step in. As a result, your water extinguished his flames and you both could dodge his attack your opponent’s attack just in time.

“Natsu, I’m so sorry-“ “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You were a bit taken back by his sudden tone as he had never yelled at you before. He took notice of your sudden state of shock, but that wasn’t enough to prevent the vicious word from coming from his mouth “Why the fuck did you think that was a good idea? Don’t you see that you’re a nuisance to me? All you do is fuck up my fire and get in my way. I don’t want your magic near me, can you get that through your thick skull?”

“Natsu!” Erza called out to the stressed fire dragon slayer “This is not the time nor the place”

“I won’t get in your way next time” You whispered before heading over to help Lucy with her opponent.

After a while, you overpowered your foes and were now on a train making your way back to Magnolia. You sat next to Lucy, while Carla and Wendy were seated in front of you. Natsu, Gray, Erza and Happy were seated in the boot next to yours.

“(Y/N)” Natsu whined “I’m dying, please help me” You usually summoned some water in the palm of your hand and let it softly swirl against his forehead. For some reason, it helped with the nauseous feeling, and you were about to give in until you realized his words from earlier. He wanted your magic nowhere near him. What if you somehow fucked up and splashed water all over him. You did not want to be yelled at again.

“Tell Natsu I’m asleep or something” You mumbled lowly, so only Lucy could hear, while you laid your head on her shoulder. She gave you a sad smile, knowing the outburst was still fresh on your mind. She complied, making Natsu groan in response but eventually gave up. He didn’t look too much in it as he knew how tired you could get from these jobs.

Once out of the train, you didn’t spare Natsu a second look. You walked in front of everyone, but Erza quickly caught up to walk next to you, while the other looked after the two Dragon Slayers that were still feeling a bit nauseous from the train ride “Are you okay?”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?” You asked.

Erza clicked her tongue as she looked at you from the corner of her eyes, absolutely not believing the lie that just fell from your tongue “Natsu was way out of line”

“He was just stressed, it can happen to the best of us” You shrugged it off, hoping that if you treated it lightly it wouldn’t weight down later in your mind.

“Still not an excuse to work it out on you” She pointed out.

“I know, thank you for caring, but really Erza, I promise I’m okay.” You gave her a small genuine smile which she returned.

You didn’t return to the guild as the others did, instead, you went home, telling the others you were too tired from the mission to deal with the shenanigans from Fairy Tail. Natsu offered to walk you home, but you kindly denied it, leaving him a bit confused. He realized he should probably give you some space since he lashed out at you. He made a mental note to apologize next thing in the morning when he’d see you.

“(Y/N)! Baby!” Natsu ran over to you and hugged you tightly while spinning you around making you squeal in surprise “put me down, Natsu”

“Only if you forgive me for what happened yesterday,” he said.

“I forgive you. You were stressed, I get it, it’s no big deal” You forgave him.

“I knew you’d understand, you’re the best” He kissed your cheek as he placed you back on your feet “anyway Happy and I found this job and-“

“I think I’m gonna take a day off, still feel a little tired from yesterday, you can go, though, have fun” you cut him off before he could fully explain the mission.

“Alright, make sure you take care of yourself today! I’ll be home as soon as I can, so we can cuddle” He kissed your forehead before turning to the Exceed “Let’s go Happy! Let’s go ask if Lucy wants to join”

That’s how the following weeks went. You always found an excuse to not join Natsu and Happy on the job. Sure you had forgiven him for his outburst since he was under a lot of stress. He shouldn’t have taken it out on you, but you also knew it could happen to the best of us when you’ve hit your limit. However, you couldn’t help but see some truth in his words.

Your magic was not compatible and made you doubt yourself. You associated yourself strongly with your magic, as every wizard did, so I made you think if you and Natsu were suited for each other. After all, that was one of the many reasons why Natsu and Gray shared such a peculiar friendship.

You had often heard of the saying that opposites attracted, but nothing could be further from the truth. The human race is a narcissistic species and wants nothing more than finding themselves in their significant others. Huge differences might be exciting and fun at first but are bound to break in the long run.

“(Y/N), you wanna go on a mission with us?” Natsu asked as you stood in front of the board with job applications.

“Can’t, I promised Gajeel I-“ You started to explain but cut yourself off when Natsu threw you over his shoulder “Natsu! Let me go! Natsu!”

“No we need to talk,” He said in a serious tone, making you stop struggling against his grip and let him take you outside, so you could talk in private.

“What do you wanna talk about?” You asked softly as you took notice of the sincere expression on his face.

“Why are you avoiding me?” He asked as his black orbs were searching for answers in your eyes.

“I am not” you deflected his question, but you breaking eye contact as soon as the words past your lips proved you were lying.

“Ever since that day I lashed out at you, you haven’t gone on a mission with me” He pressed.

“That’s not true” you denied once again which made him frown. Why were you dishonest with him?

“Okay, when was the last time we went on a job together?” He asked. Your silence was a clear answer and you both knew it. Your gaze averted to the ground, but he refused to let you shy away from him as he placed a finger under your chin to tilt your head back up until your eyes meet once again. His hand softly from underneath your chin to lay on your cheek “are you still upset with me?”

Your heart shattered at how vulnerable he was right now. His playful antics long replaced by guilt that had been slowly eating away at him for the past days. “No, of course not”

“Then please tell me what I did wrong. I can’t stand the thought of me deliberately hurting you. Please tell me what’s troubling you, so I can fix it” He pleaded.

“Do you-“ You paused to collect your thoughts “do you think we’re right for each other?”

“What do you mean?” 

“That day you said my magic was a nuisance. It got me thinking and you were right. You have to evade my magic so often, and it's all because it isn’t compatible with one another. I just didn’t want to be more of a hinder than I already was, that’s why I started to join others on their jobs just so I wouldn’t mess up yours. I just sometimes wonder if my magic isn’t the only thing that isn’t compatible with you.” You frowned as you hear yourself your insecurities out loud.

“Hey, no, stop. What I said that day was completely out of line. I took my frustration and took them out on you and I shouldn’t have. I have no excuse for how I acted that day. You didn’t deserve it, and I’m sorry for making you feel bad. So what if we’re a little different. I thought you always liked a good challenge?” He apologized.

“Sure I like the thrill of our relationship, but it doesn’t take away from the fact our magic isn’t suitable for one another. I just think we’re setting ourselves up for failure. A challenge is fun for a little while but we both know that stability is what you need if you want a relationship to survive in the long run” You explained.

“Then we’ll defy those odds. I’ll show everyone and especially you that you don’t need something like psychology to prove if a relationship will work or not. Please let me prove to you how much I can love you and let me prove to you that I’ll eventually become that stability you crave.” He vowed. “I always thought you weren’t one to be quick on giving up when things get rough”

“I’m not, I just don’t want to put my heart out there if I know from the start it’ll only get broken” You uttered somberly.

“I promise you it won’t. I’ll love you with every fiber in my body until the day I die. I will never make you doubt yourself or our relationship again” He told you, sincerity audible in his voice.

You smiled softly at him as your arms sneaked around his waist while your head laid on his chest. His arms immediately reacted at your touch, shielding you away from the world as his lips planted a soft kiss on your head “I love you”

[fruitoftheweek]

Little Cherry Book:

Chapter 4:Showered in Sin

Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here

Hey guys! I'm sorry that it has taken so long for me to update this. I had an idea of what I was going to write but I had a super hectic week so I wasn't able to write this till now. In order to make up for it, I have given you a treat. A 6,502 word chapter. It kinda beat my ass but I had so much fun writing it. It's sweet, it's spicy, it's all the goodness you guys deserve. I was listening to Duvet by Boa while writing this and I think you should too for two reasons. One, it helps set the mood, but also oh my fucking god it's such a good song. Also, Boa is just a fucking great band. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and message me if you would like to be added to the tag list! Love you guys

Pairing: Spencer Reid X reader

Chapter Plot: After a game of drunk never have I ever after a long case, Morgan locks Spencer out of their shared room. Shenanigans ensue and you and Spencer share a couple of firsts.

Series TW: 18+, smut, degradation, piercing, choking, knife play, mommy/daddy kinks, spanking, exhibitionism, Will update as time goes on

Chapter TW: smut, slight mommy kink, having body piercings, choking, slight blood kink (not really, it's just hard to explain), Shared masturbation (male and female receiving), pleading, multiple orgasms, cumming in pants, shower sexiness, aftercare

Word Count: 6,502

Your deep cherry lipstick painted the white seal of the wine bottle you held in your hand as you laughed at something Elle said. Spencer couldn't help but let a small smile pass his lips as he took in your form, hot from the day's work, small strands of your hair sticking to your forehead, a dewy glow illuminating your rosy cheeks.

After a long week, they had found Carl Arnold before he had been able to kill the Dunken family and even coerced a confession out of him. With spirits running high, Elle had suggested some much-needed relaxation before taking off the next day. Since you were rooming alone, you volunteered to host in your room. Morgan had arrived at your hotel room with two bottles of some sort of liquor, one clear and one amber, JJ trailing in toe with your bottle of red wine you had asked for. You pulled out your little corkscrew with the face of an old man on it, knowing she hated his weird little face. You brought it with you on trips, just in case the occasion arose.

And it did arise as Elle suggested a drinking game. Hotch had retired early after calling Hailey to get an update on his very pregnant wife, while Gideon preferred the solitude of a good book late at night. The rest of you sat on the floor surrounded by drinks and snacks. With the supervision gone, it almost felt like a high school party with no parents. You all had all settled on a classic, never have I ever. "We haven't played this in a long time because we already know so much about each other, but it's fun when we have a newbie around," Morgan said giving you a cheeky smile and bumping your shoulder. Already pliable after the couple of drinks you had while Elle explained the game, you nodded before tipping your lips to the cusp of Spencer's ear. "I'll try not to make it too hard for you, pretty boy," you said. The small puffs of air that left your mouth made Spencer's hair stand on end and his feet curl.

He knew you were teasing him that night and he loved it. He decided to keep his knees tucked to his chest for the rest of the night as to not expose the predicament in his pants. He watched the way you lightly sucked on the wine bottle as you tipped it back, a thin river of cabernet leaking from the corner of your lips and trailing down your neck. Spencer wanted nothing more than to lean over and lap it off of you just to see how you would react, but he knew it was the drinks talking. Despite your earlier comment, it was quite obvious that you were targeting him as his head started to spin gently.

"Never have I ever had sex with someone much older than me," Garcia said through her video feed with a cheeky smirk. Derek had insisted on including her even though she wasn't physically present. She sat bundled up in a comfy blanket in her office with a mug of some sort of alcoholic beverage. "HEY! No targeting! Plus, I told you that in confidence at ladies night. How much is much older?" You said, swaying your bottle towards the computer set up on the floor."You know how much older I mean sweetheart." Garcia said with a giggle as you groaned and took a sip."How much older is much older?" Morgan said with a cocked eyebrow, somewhere between impressed and surprised." I was a college student, experimenting with my professor. Not like an old man, but he was 20 years older than me. Definitely not my style anymore though." You said with a grimace remembering him.

Spencer had learned a lot about your sex life during that game, but some part inside of him smirked, knowing that the rest of the team would never know you as he knew you, not unless they too had read your journal. It was the only thing keeping his head clear of the idea of you with anyone else. Not that you were with him in any capacity, but the idea still made him feel something in his stomach. Not the sweet butterflies that came with your smile, but something more like idiotic hornets dangerously bumping against the walls of his stomach.

Spencer hadn't even noticed the uproar of everyone else around the circle at your comment and the second revelation that Morgan had drunk too. He was too busy watching how you had shyly tucked your hair behind your ear, finally letting it down out of your clips for once. You were wearing your pajamas, just a tank top, slouchy sweater, and flannel pajama pants, but somehow you looked more radiant than ever. He had come back down to earth after hearing someone call his name."Y-Yes?" He sputtered out, realizing you had been trying to get his attention."It's Morgan's turn, pay attention." You said, gently smacking your hand down on his thigh.

If he was riled up before, he was unbelievably undone at the slight sting from where your palm had just been. Light enough that it wasn't noticeable, but hard enough that it erupted a Shockwave through his body, centered on the location of the contact. He bit back the whimper threatening to escape his lips as he turned towards Morgan, trying desperately to not watch you from the corner of his eye.

"Never have I been a virgin at 24," Morgan said, beaming in his direction. Spencer took a big gulp from his glass of whiskey."You always do that one, I don't know why you think it's so funny, you're just trying to get me to drink" he said abashedly. He looked over at you, nervous for your reaction, but you seemed unfazed. "Hey, that's a wonderful gift to have, there's something so special about virgins. Maybe it's the idea that everything is new, but I like it. I love virgins." You said, taking a sip from your bottle, gently swaying. You had given up on never have I ever and just decided to drink whenever you felt like it. Maybe it was because you were tipsy, maybe it was the warm flush that decorated Spencer's cheeks, maybe it was the way he was looking at you with sultry, half-lidded eyes. You couldn't tell, but something made you want to find an excuse for you two to be alone.

"Geese, we seemed to have caught a succubus tonight." Morgan quipped."A suck-you-what now?" You said, cocking an eyebrow at him. " A succubus, it's a demon or supernatural entity in folklore, in female form, that appears in dreams to seduce men, usually through sexual activity. According to religious traditions, repeated sexual activity with a succubus can cause poor physical or mental health, even death. In modern representations, a succubus is often depicted as a beautiful seductress or enchantress, rather than as demonic or frightening." Spencer shot out. "Wow, even when you're drunk, your big brain keeps chuggin' along," you said, sloppily ruffling his hair "A beautiful seductress or enchantress, huh?" That time it came out low, inaudible to the others, but it pierced Spencer like a knife."Do you think that's accurate bout me?" you asked, staring up into his eyes, closer than you have been before. Spencer let a cartoonish gulping noise escape his lips as he held back his urge to lean into your touch.

"Ah, it's my turn," you said, leaning back into your spot in the circle and sadly, away from Spencer." Never have I ever done something naughty at our work," you said, looking straight at Spencer "I'll know if you're lying, I can sniff out a liar from a mile away," your cocky smirk leaking out of your mouth. Everyone except you and JJ took a shot."Wow, really you guys? Even you Spence? " JJ said in disbelief, looking around the circle."Never have I ever, my ass" Spencer mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, looking over at you, thinking about your pantieless escapades.

"Look at that, Doctor Reid, you need another drink, let me go fix you one," You said as you grabbed his glass in one hand, leaning and gripping hard into his shoulder with the other. It wasn't seen by the others, but between that and the fiery look in your eyes, it sent an obvious message,' keep your mouth shut or I'll shut it for you.' You used him as leverage to get up, nearly pushing him over as you gracefully stumbled to the hotel fridge. He knew what you meant, but he didn't care, your grip on him went straight into his imagination as he envisioned what that grip would feel like in other places. He kind of wanted to push his luck, just so he could see what he had in store.

And push it he did as you handed him the glass, reminding him that it was indeed his turn to play never have I ever. "Never have I ever slept with my professor," He said, obviously targeting you with a glint of mischief in his eyes."Oh yeah, well never have I ever been a virgin at 24." You said, swaying as you sat down."Morgan already said that, dummy. Never have I ever worn stupid dark red lipstick" He retorted, equally as drunk as you. At this point everyone else had zoned you two out and were focused on other things, refreshing their drinks, counting the ceiling tiles, humming a sloppy rendition of My My Miss American Pie, or in Penelope's case, all three."Yeah, well never have I ever been a complete and utter mommas boy!" You continued, the statement turning Spencer beet red. You watched him clench and unclench his hands, you had obviously struck a nerve. Just as you were about to apologize, he cut you off. "Never have I ever had nipple piercings!" He shouted, pointing at your chest, now drawing attention to the obvious balls framing your nipples that you had once been covered by your long-forgotten sweater.

As he said it, it felt like the world went in slow motion. You could see the instant regret on his face as you dropped your bottle in surprise. It had landed on Spencers discarded whiskey glass and both shattered, wine and whiskey mixing with glass to create a slurry on the ground between them. "Fuck! You Guys!" Morgan said, "You got it all over my clothes." "Me too," Echoed Elle as they both stood up in their soaked clothes. "I think that calls it a night." JJ said, closing the laptop on the image of an already sleeping Garcia." Bye you guys, sleep well," you called after them as you and Spencer rushed around looking for towels to clean up the alcohol with.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" Spencer cried as you dropped the last of the glass in the garbage can. As you rounded the corner, you saw Spencer pulling a rather large shard of glass that you must have missed out of his thumb, blood pooling at the tip. Without thinking, you crouched down and sucked his thumb into your mouth." A-ah! What... What are you doing!?" Spencer asked breathlessly, looking down at you with a deep hunger in his eyes. You pop off his thumb and squeeze it at the base, slowing the blood flow."Shut up," You said," This helps slow the bleeding. The sucking applies pressure. My mom used to do this for me... And no, do not psychoanalyze that." You said, wrapping your mouth around his finger, sucking to provide some pressure to slow the blood flow. You could taste the iron in your mouth, but you didn't mind, knowing you were helping your friend.

You were helping alright, helping in more ways than you would ever understand. "Yeah, like I'm the only one here with mommy issues," he said distractedly, too busy surveying your lips wrapped around him. You slapped your hand down on his thigh once more, eliciting a small whimper from him. He couldn't help it, you were a sight of beauty, you always were, but looking down on you right then, Spencer wanted to bottle that moment forever. The tops of your breasts peeking out from the top of your tank top, your eyes filled with a hazy glow, looking up at him to make sure he was ok, and your cheeks hollowing out around his thumb as you delicately sucked on his wound. It was as close as Spencer had ever gotten to anything sexual. He could feel your tongue swirling around the cut, lapping up the last couple drops of blood. He couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if it was another appendage and not his thumb. You sucked on his thumb one last time, harder than you had previously, and before he even knew what he was doing, his hips bucked up, rubbing his hard cock against his pajama pants, finally relieving his mounting orgasm.

You let go of his finger with a pop as your tongue trailed off of the underside of his thumb. Spencer looked anywhere but you, as a wet patch formed through his thin underwear and pajama pants. He hurried to cover it with his sweater, shooting up from his seated position."Um, Um, I'm g-gonna go shower and go to bed." He said, hurriedly scurrying over to where he had left his room key." Sorry partner, I saw Morgan accidentally grab both of your keys on the way out. He's probably asleep by now." You said languidly, leaning back to take in the sight of the soft boy in front of you. Totally flushed with heat, small beads of sweat peppering his forehead, his hands twiddling suspiciously into his sweater in an attempt to conceal crotch, trying and failing miserably to hide his rapidly cooling cum.

He whined a little, lighting a fire in you. He looked so thoroughly fucked out, and all you had done was suck his finger. You knew that you just had to play with him some more. "You know, you can use my shower, doctor." You said, and he let out a small sigh of relief, heading towards the bathroom. "There is one condition, though," You smirked coyly as he halted his motions, his body facing away from you. It was almost as if he was ready to run away at any moment. You walked over to him, slowly, taking your time to tease him. The silence hung heavy in the air as you looked up into his eyes questioningly, waiting for him to ask. "Wh-what is the condition." He said, unable to return your gaze, hands fisted in the hem of his sweater, pulling it down even further. You smirked, dipping your hands up and under his sweater, nearly brushing his spent cock before gently placing them on his bare stomach, just above his waistband. He sucked in a tight breath as you gently swirled your fingers in the short hair that lead from his belly button down to happier places." Before I ask, do you know about the color scale?" you said, fingers smoothing out over his little stomach." Um, k-kinda?" He said, heat flushing his cheeks."Green means good keep going, yellow means slow down, and red means stop right now, ok?" You said, looking up at him as he nods."Come on pretty boy, I need verbal confirmation. I need to know that you understand, got it." You said with a little pinch to his tummy. "Y-Yes, I understand!" He blurted out, standing stiff as a board." Good boy. Now, for my condition. You can shower if you show me what you're hiding." You said, leaning close enough that if Spencer breathed, your chests would meet each other. "What color, Spencer?" you said, languidly drawing lines up and down his torso with your nails."G-Green, Very green." He sputtered out, finally meeting your eyes."That's what I like to hear, sweet boy." You said before your fingers danced below his waistline, now somewhat crusty from his cum."W-wait!" He says, just as you were about to take him in your hand. You instantly stopped and looked up at him gently."We can stop here baby, it's not a problem." You said, beginning to remove your hand from his pants. He grabbed your hand through his pants, stopping your movement."It-It's not that. I don't want to stop, I just want... well..." He said and looked down shyly. "What do you want baby, anything," You smiled up at him. "Um, I haven't had my first kiss yet and I kinda... Well... I kinda..." He said, shuffling his feet, face beet red. Your eyebrows shot up quickly in surprise before letting out a gentle smile."Do you want a kiss, pretty boy?" You said, gently brushing the hair out of his face. He nodded, and you grabbed his chin, bringing him close. "Use your words, pretty boy. What do you want?" You whispered, breath gently ghosting Spencer's lips as he took you in up close. He could see every little pore and dimple of your skin and every color hidden in the depth of your eyes and he knew he needed to have you.

He shakily leaned forward, lips gently meeting yours, so light that if you hadn't seen his actions, you wouldn't have even known if you had touched. You moved your hand down to his throat, giving a light squeeze."Come on genius, use your words," you said as he whimpered. "Please, can I kiss you, please, please?" He begged, leaning into your touch, pleading for you to squeeze again. His efforts shoot straight to your heart. You indulged him in a kiss, not as spicy as the situation would permit, more of a sweet heat. He came in too hot and heavy at first, but you kissed him languidly, gently stroking his cheek to get him in the rhythm. His arms were straight out at his sides, hands clenched as if he was willing every muscle in his body to not touch you.

You let out a small laugh as you melted into his kiss, soft, puffy lips dancing across yours. "You know you can touch me," You said, pulling back, smiling at the smear of your lipstick, now staining his lips, and the endearing puppy dog eyes he was giving you. "Where can I touch you?" He whispered out as if he were telling a secret. "Wherever you want, baby. Wherever your heart desires." You replied, bringing your arms up to wrap loosely around his neck, pulling your bodies closer. He was as stiff as a board as his hands flitted around trying to find a good place to land. He finally settled on weaving his arms around your waist and up to cradle your neck, gently carding his fingers through the hair that fell at the nape of your neck. There was something so sweet in the way he cradled your body with feather-light touches as if you would disappear like smoke if he lingered too long. You reveled in the feeling of you two pressed together, slightly uncomfortable at the stiff material of his pajama pants on your stomach.

"Hey sweetheart," You said, pulling away as he chased after your lips, "I'm feeling kinda sweaty from the day, would you like to join me in the shower? What color?" "G-green, yes please." He said, tentatively pressing a kiss to your collarbone, exposed as the strap of your tank top had fallen down. You unwound from him, taking his hand delicately in your own, instantly missing the warmth his body provided.

You lead him into the bathroom, carefully stepping over the wine-soaked towels discarded on the floor before shutting the door and turning to face him. "I don't want to take this too fast for you because I know it's all very new so always tell me how you are feeling and if everything is ok. I want this to be good for you baby, ok?" You said, squeezing his hand that was still intertwined with yours. "Ok, th-thank you," He said shyly.

"Now, what do you want to do first? You're probably pretty uncomfortable in those pants, do you want me to take them off you?" You said, hooking one of your fingers into his waistband, pulling on in slightly creating a much-needed separation between his sticky cock and his uncomfortable pants."Y-Yes please" He said as you turned on the shower, allowing it to warm up in preparation for cleaning him off before turning back to him. You gently grabbed the hem of his sweater and pulled it over his head, leaving him shirtless in front of you.

Lean muscles were hidden under a layer of peachy soft skin highlighting the gentle trail of dark curly hair leading from his belly button down past his pants. His arms curled around himself as he watched your eyes carefully, ready for some sort of judgment. "I know I'm not really that s-strong or anything but I can work on it-" You cut him off with a gentle kiss right above his belly button, startling him. You looked up sweetly into his eyes and gave him a soft smile, saying "You are so beautiful, Spencer. Morgan calls you pretty boy, but he truly has no idea. I would have you no other way than you are right now."

You gently peppered his chest with feather-light kisses, making him blush. He finally understood why people liked hickeys because as you trailed down his chest, the little wine red lipstick you had left on your lips left marks trailing down his chest. Some part of him wished they were permanent, showing off to all that could see, and they would know exactly who he belonged to. You dipped your hand into his waistband, asking, "What color?" "Green, very green," he choked out as your breath ghosted across his abdomen. You looked so beautiful, kneeled on the floor in front of him, taking care of him so gently and treating him so sweetly that he could feel his cock begin to harden again.

You looked up into his eyes as you pulled his pants down. He let out a soft sigh of relief as he was uncaged from his unfortunate trouser situation. His cock flipped down out of his pants, nearly smacking you in the forehead as you looked up at it in awe. Even though it was only semi-hard, it was bigger than any you had ever seen before. Spencer looked down at you shyly "it's not that much, I-I know but I've been researching techniques to make up for it in order to give sufficient pleasure for you- I mean for whatever partners I may have, not that I am saying that I won't please you, I dream of pleasuring you! ... I'm digging myself a hole aren't I."He rambled, rubbing the back of his neck worriedly. "Spencer, you are huge. Way more than I have ever had before. See?" You said, standing up, gently lifting his cock in your hand, measuring it against your stomach.

Maybe Spencer hadn't noticed because it was proportionate to his body and his big hands, but being held in your petite hands and measured against your stomach, he finally did see how much he would fill you up. The tip of his dick just barely reached past the gems that decorated your belly button piercing. "W-Woah." He said growing harder at the thought of pushing so deep into you. He looked up to your face, which was preoccupied with looking down at how far he would reach up in you.

Tearing your eyes away from him and up to his own, you flushed, knowing that he had caught you staring. "What would you like me to do next?" You spoke softly. Despite being the only two in the room, you two both talked in hushed tones, worrying that anything more than that would burst the delicate bubble you two had created. "Can we match?" He said, and you instantly understood him, despite the odd vernacular. You began to slip off your shirt, but he stopped you with an arm on your shoulder. "C-Can I do it?" He said shyly. "Of course, pretty baby," you barely get out before he drifted his hands under your tank.

He slowly lifted your top over your head as he took in the soft smooth feeling of your skin against his, goosebumps pricking up wherever his fingers trailed. You stood in front of him, shirtless as he took in your form. He had imagined what your breasts would look like. Nipples always hard due to your piercings, what your jewelry would look like, but nothing could prepare him for the glimmering moonstone gems that adorned your nipples and navel. Everything matched exactly, including the delicate necklace you wore around your neck.

The only thing he liked more than the perfection of your body was the features that made you, you. Some might call them imperfections, but to Spencer, all he could see in you was beauty. The gentle bruises on your skin from tangles with unsubs, the soft stretch marks that adorned your hips like little valleys and winding rivers, the slight blemishes, and hairs. He loved it because you were the embodiment of the confidence he wished for in himself. While he was always nervous about his body and how others perceived him, you loved yourself for exactly who you were, and you loved him for exactly who he was.

He pulled down your pants, gently following the twist and turn of the stretch marks as they winded down your hips, making sure to kneel down to pull them all the way off of you as you delicately stepped out, gently grabbing onto his hair to keep your balance as you swayed. He moaned softly at the gentle tug of your fingers while he stared up at you in awe. You took his hand in yours, coaxing him to stand.

You both stood there, taking in each other's forms for a moment, hands still connected as if by a thread at the pinky before you spoke. "We shouldn't waste water. Let me clean you off, sweetheart." He nodded before following after you into the gentle spray of the shower, steam now filling the room. He marveled at the way that the water droplets cascaded down your body, gently running down your curves. "Come here," you said, pulling him into a gentle embrace under the hot water.

Your two bodies pressed gently together, and Spencer couldn't help but think that you were molded for each other. Not in the way that a sculptor may stick two unmatched pieces of clay together with slip, more like one rock that had been split by the earth finally returning together. Something about your touch felt like home as you gently cradled him under the water.

He was so enthralled in your being that he didn't notice you gently scrubbing him with a washcloth until the scent of your body wash permeated the air. You gently scrubbed his back, washing off the sweat of the day and replacing it with you. He melted into you as your hands reached up, lathering his hair with shampoo. He wasn't sure if it was because he realized you should probably be getting washed too or because he desperately wanted to ride his hands along the planes of your body, but he decided to lather up his hands and wash you as well. "You are such a good boy. Thank you for cleaning me up" You said, resting your head gently on his chest, softly swirling the soap around his back, now finished scrubbing all you could from that angle, waiting to turn him around.

He moved carefully, avoiding your butt, still too nervous to touch. "Make sure you get everything, sweet boy. I like to be clean when I go to bed." You said, gently grabbing his hand and pulling it down to cup your butt. He inhales a sharp breath as he indulged in a gentle squeeze, continuing to wash you. He washed your back but his hands would occasionally drift down to your ass, growing more confident as he unknowingly rocked into you slightly with every squeeze, letting out soft keening noises.

You peeled yourself off of him as he rutted into the air, whining at the loss of friction. "Slow down, naughty boy. Bad boys don't get to touch. Are you a bad boy?" you asked as you placed a finger on the tip of his cock, swirling it in the precum pooling there despite the water's efforts to wash it off. "No, no! I'm a good boy! You're just so pretty, and you feel so good, and you smell so nice, and I wanna touch you, and I want you to touch me, please." He blurted out, looking at you with hungry eyes, begging for more friction. "Where do you want to touch me baby?" you asked as his eyes raked over your body, taking in all of his options. "I want to touch your boobies and your- your-" "My what? You can say it, naughty boy." You cut him off in his stammering. "Your pussy, I want to touch your pussy." He said, the hot water spreading the blush from his cheeks down his chest, tingeing his cock with a pretty pink hue. "What naughty words from such a pretty boy. You can touch-" he cut you off, lunging towards your body before you grabbed him by the throat, squeezing experimentally. Not too hard, not too soft. He moaned, and you felt the vibrations traveling up your hands."Let me finish what I was saying. Naughty boys don't get to touch. They get spanked." You said as he mewled." What I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted was that you can touch, AFTER I wash you and after you finish washing me. Only after, you got it?" you said, squeezing a little tighter. "Y-yes." he croaked out. "Good boy," you replied.

You washed out the shampoo in his hair, replacing it with conditioner as he did the same for you. You squirted more soap onto your washcloth, preparing to test him. You took the washcloth in your hand, slowly working over his legs, arms, and chest, teasingly brushing over his overspent cock before returning to cleaning him. He washed you thoroughly, taking care to wash your legs before making sure your stomach and belly button piercing were thoroughly cleaned. Finally, he reached up to wash the leftover makeup off of your face. He touched you like a porcelain doll, worried that you would crack under even the slightest pressure, making you giggle. He flinched, thinking he hurt you, but you grabbed his face in your hands, delivering him a kiss that covered his face in soap.

You both stood there, laughing for a second, relishing the moment before you let out a shy smile. "You can touch my chest now, but make sure you clean my piercings carefully." He looked down at your chest, and now that he'd been given permission, he didn't really know what to do. You could see the puzzled look on his face so you grabbed one of his soapy hands in yours and brought it to your breast. He squeezed experimentally, and you let out a gentle moan. You had been keeping in your arousal to draw out his teasing, but you couldn't hold yourself back as you felt his large hands grasp around your chest and roll your nipple in his fingers.

There was a sweet dichotomy in the harshness of his grasp on your boob, coupled with the gentle twist of your nipple. It was as if he was worried to hurt your piercings, so he made up for it in his grasp. You brought the washcloth down to his cock, hard against his stomach, and began to work him. He whined at the harsh material. "I need to clean you up, baby. You still have a cummy cock. If you beg hard enough when I'm done, I will touch you." You said into his ear as he rested his head on your shoulder.

He was overstimulated, and you could tell, so you decided you wouldn't take as long as you wanted to tease him. But you would still draw it out for your own pleasure. He was bucking and mewling into you as you roughly got him off. It shot you straight to your core, the heat from the shower mixed with his grasp on you, physically and visually, had you closer than you wanted, and deep down you just wanted him to touch you.

When you deemed him clean enough you let the rag drop to the floor. "Beg" you moaned out. "Please, please touch me, I want your hand on me, that's all I want." He whined, bucking into the air. You took pity on him, grasping him with your soap-covered hand. He hissed as your soft touch replaced the rough rag and you could tell he was close. "Touch me, Spencer." You said and his hand shot to your core. His tentative moves giving way to a natural confidence. As he slipped a hand between your folds he could feel you dripping with desire. "O-Oh my god," was all he could stammer out before sinking two of his fingers into your depths, thumb circling your clit. You knew his fingers were long, and you had even fantasized about this exact moment, but nothing could prepare you for his actual length. He had said he did research but that was proven by how quickly he found your g spot and clit. You doubled over in pleasure as his fingers thoroughly fucked you out.

"Spencer, I'm so close, baby. Be a good boy and make me cum." You said, slumping against his shoulder, rubbing yourself against his hand. "Mommy, I'm cumming." He said, looking into your eyes as his body shuttered. His words ricochetted around in your brain, sending you over the edge as you cum all down his hand. You bit into his shoulder to muffle your scream, just as he matched you, cumming down your hand.

You came down from your high as Spencer nearly collapsed onto you. You took extra care in making sure he was all clean before helping him out of the shower and into a towel. He leaned against you the whole time as you got him ready for bed. You forced him to brush his teeth before dragging him to bed.

He sat at the edge, eyes bleary with sleep, taking in the events of the day. You sat behind him, gently toweling off his hair before brushing it and putting lotion on his body. He leaned into your touch, appreciating being cared for, feeling as if everything had been a dream. "C-Can I sleep here? I mean Morgan locked me out and I don't have pants and-" You cut him off with a gentle kiss."Of course, sweetheart, do you want to cuddle? It's ok if you don't or if you want this to be a one-time thing, it's all up to you, baby." You said, gently sweeping his hair out of his face as he looked up with eyes the size of dinner plates. "We can do this more than once? You'll let me? For real?" He asked. "Only if you want to sweetheart. This is all about you." You said, giving him a small smile tinged with a slight sadness. "That's not very fair, I want it to be about you too. What do you want?"

The question knocked you off guard. You're not used to people asking what you want. Usually, people just take and give none in return. The fact that Spencer Reid, your adorable virgin coworker was asking you what you wanted with such a sincere look, caused tears to prick into your eyes. "No one has asked me that in a long time," you smiled, "I would love to do this, and more again with you Spencer. Whenever you want." He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you down so you were lying next to each other on the bed. "Whenever we want" He corrected, cuddling into you.

You surveyed the bite make you left on his shoulder, running your hand over it. "Sorry for marking you up, I didn't mean to hurt you." You said softly as he blushed. "I-I was actually wondering... well... could you maybe give me a hickey? I like that you marked me." He said. You obliged him, giving him long kisses and sucks, gradually working up your force until a large purple bruise had formed on his collar bone. He was gently moaning the whole time, but you didn't want to work him up again as he had already cum twice that night and you didn't think he could handle more. He looked down at it as you pulled away, and you could see a question lingering on his mind.

"What's up?" you asked, smoothing his hair with your hand. "You said you hadn't been asked what you want in a long time, and I was wondering, well... who gave you your piercings?" he asked tentatively and you laughed." You have been reading my book too much, how many chapters have you read?" You said and he looked up at you surprised."You knew? and... well... only 3 chapters. I didn't want to pry into your private life." He said. "You just pried enough to know I want to get pierced by someone?" You asked raising an eyebrow. Before he could get an excuse out, you cut him off. "Well for a genius, you obviously didn't read it that carefully. I said I WOULD like to be pierced during sex, meaning I have not before. These are just standard piercings from a piercing shop, not a big deal, I just like the way they look." You said and he let out a sigh of relief. "Why? d'you get jealous?" you questioned him. He looked down and nodded shyly.

"I can be a lot of firsts for you but if you play your cards right, you can be a lot of firsts for me too. You already gave me a first tonight. You called me mommy. No one's done that before but it was really hot. I liked it a lot." You said matter of factly. "But that is a conversation for another day. It is 2 am and we need to be on a flight at 7:30, so let's get some sleep." You said, turning off the lights and cuddling up close to him. In a matter of seconds, you both were asleep, tangled into each other's arms, both of you feeling, for once, safe and sound.

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Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here

Well wasn't that a doozy. I had so much fun writing that and I think it paid off for sure. Shoot me a message if you want to be added to my beloved tag list, speaking of which.

@spencer-reids-slut @ya-triedit @reidstoychest @flipperpenguins @thatsonezesty13 @jbbarnes-loki @big-galaxy-chaos

[ongaku-ato-kakikomi]

Can you do a Duke Crocker imagine, where you're Nathan's twin and you can't feel anything either? Like you've always hated Duke and he jokingly pats you on the back one day and like Nathan with Audrey's touches, she can feel it and starts making any excuse to get Duke to have any contact with her(high fives, random hugs, grabbing his arm when she almost "falls" ect.) And she ends up falling in love with him despite his past with her brother🥺sorry if that's too long

(A/N): I’ve fallen in love with this idea as soon as I got it in my ask box. Thank you so much for trusting me for writing it, dear! <3 I changed your examples of contacts the reader creates to try and make it more logical, so I hope you’ll like what I’ve come up with despite that.

“Show me your teeth.”

You roll your eyes at your brother, Nathan. “I come to see you at work and that’s the first thing you say to me?”

He blinks a few times at you. “Sorry. Hi, (Y/N). Now show me your teeth.”

You reluctantly open your mouth wide, your brother taking his time to inspect each tooth that is very much still in place.

“Show me your hands.” You close your mouth and put your hands in front of you, turning them around a few times. “Now turn around.”

You give out a groan while you do as he says, already tired of these shenanigans.

“You don’t seem to be hurt anywhere. Good.” He gives you a bright smile, satisfied with his inspection. “Someone has to make sure you’re not bleeding or losing any members.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “And is someone making sure you’re not bleeding?” He loses his smile, already knowing what you’re gonna say. “That’s right. It goes both ways. Now show me your teeth, Nathan.”

“Don’t worry, (Y/N).” Audrey suddenly appears next to your brother, the blond putting her hand on his shoulder. “I checked him twenty minutes ago. He seems good.”

You notice him slightly tensing up under Audrey’s touch, his lips slightly stretching out into a small smile when he turns towards her. Nathan told you about Audrey’s specialty; how he manages to feel every single bit of touch she gives him. And though you feel a bit jealous of him, you also feel extremely happy for him. You’d do anything to be able to physically feel something, anything... even the breath of the wind against your face, but you can’t.

“Hey, (Y/N) is here!” Your expression falters down as soon as you recognize Duke’s voice from behind you, already seeing his large smirk inside your mind without even looking at him. “What a surprise!”

You give your brother a glare. “I thought you said he wouldn’t be here today?”

You’ve tried to avoid seeing Duke Crocker most of your life, always feeling pure annoyance whenever he’s in the same room as you, and as of now, you’ve managed to only see him a few times since childhood. You were also sure that you wouldn’t see him today, especially since Nathan told you that he wouldn’t be here.

“I didn’t think he would be.” Your brother turns his eyes towards Audrey, squinting them when he notices a knowing grin on her lips. “But I have a little idea why...”

“Ouch.” You turn your head towards Duke just as he comes to a halt next to you. “And here I thought we could be friends. What did I do to earn such hatred?”

You give him a hard smile. “Look in the mirror and you’ll have your answer.”

He gives out a dramatic gasp at your response, your brother giving out a loud laugh. “Good one!”

“Guys!” Audrey gives you all her ‘big eyes’. “Come on, can’t you get along for once?”

“Nah, it’s okay, Audrey.” Duke gives her a wink, not at all bothered by your remarks. “(Y/N) is just teasing me. She always does. Right, (Y/N)?”

You’re about to let out another remark when he abruptly pats your back, your words dying inside your throat as soon as you realized what happened.

You felt his hands on your back.

You tilt your head at Duke with pure confusion, the man staring back at you with the exact emotion. For once, you weren’t looking at him with annoyance or hatred, and it couldn’t exactly pinpoint why you suddenly weren’t.

“Audrey.” Your brother speaks up, the police officer giving the blond a hard look. “Why is he here?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” Audrey gives him an innocent look. “He’s gonna help us with the investigation.”

“He’s gonna ‘what’?!”

Duke looks away from you to send your brother a smirk. “Audrey said I’d be ‘useful’.”

You blink a few times, suddenly remembering where you are. “I find that unlikely.”

“Yeah, well...” He looks back at you, his smile not at all flinching. “You always do.”

You give him back a hard smile, though not as hard as you usually do. The feeling of his hands on your back still lingers there and partially clouds your mind. You can’t help but wonder if you’ve imagined it. You were thinking about your brother’s situation with Audrey... maybe you were wishing for the same thing so hard that your brain gave you a small exception?

“Anyway...” Duke claps his hands together, looking back towards Nathan and Audrey. “Are we gonna go or are we just gonna stand here like idiots?”

Your brother gives him a glare. “Audrey?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” She grabs her coat from her chair, sending you a smile on your way out. “You’re welcomed to join us, (Y/N).”

“Huh?” You blink in surprise, slowly starting to follow them. “Yeah... yeah, sure.”

“(Y/N) is willing to share a car ride with me?” Duke sends you a grin. “This must be my lucky day.”

“Don’t push it.”

He just laughs at your reaction, none of you noticing Nathan and Audrey exchanging whispering words.

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

You give a side gland towards Duke sitting next to you, your eyes carefully watching his face as he spits out a large number of words to annoy your brother more than he usually does. Normally you would have shut him up with one of your remarks by now, but the moment from earlier still obsess you. Forget how or why it happened, you have to know if you’ve imagined his touch or not... and there’s only one way to be sure.

“Ow!” You suddenly interrupt Duke by suddenly flicking your fingers against his cheek, his head snapping towards you as he holds his face with his hand. “Why did you do that?”

You ignore him and look down at your fingers, feeling a satisfying pain rushing through them. “... I just had an urge.”

You barely hear your brother laugh as Duke pouts about the pain you put him through, a small smile appearing on your lips as you realize that this is real. You can feel Duke’s touch. Would you have preferred someone else? Absolutely. Anyone but Duke would have been more than welcomed. But are you going to ignore this opportunity life is giving you? Hell no.

You’re gonna have fun with this.

“Oh, stop crying.” You poke his cheek just where you flicked your fingers earlier, a large grin forming on your lips when you feel his skin against yours. “I didn’t take you for a baby, Crocker.”

“What-stop poking me!” He pushes your hand away, a frown on his face as he hears Nathan chuckle in the front. “You’re lucky you can’t feel anything-”

 He gets interrupted by your hands suddenly squishing his face away, confusing spreading on his features.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Trying to shut you up.” You let go of his face, realizing that you might be going a bit too far. “But it’s not working.”

“Guys.” Audrey interrupts your conversation, Nathan still chuckling as he stops the car. “We’re here.”

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

It’s been more than a few minutes since you’ve arrived at the crime scene, Nathan and Audrey now currently questioning the witnesses. Why were you and Duke even around in the first place? You have no idea. But as the two of you wait around for them to finish, you decide to test your theory a little more.

“Ow!” Duke takes a step away from you as soon as he feels your shoe kicking his leg, his eyes squinting at you. “Okay, what is your problem?”

You lose your grin as soon as he says that. “It’s not obvious? You’re my problem.”

“Yeah, yeah... you hate me, I know. But you’ve never kicked me. Or poked me. Or squished my face.” He points at you, suspicion all over his features. “So what’s the sudden change, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You almost want to curse yourself at how fast you said those words, already knowing that he’s not going to believe that. You almost want to cringe when you see his lips stretch out into a large grin, already dreading the worst.

“Don’t tell me...” His smile gets wider, his excitement suddenly rising. “You actually like me!”

“What-no!” You frown, already shaking your head at him in disgust. “Ew! Never!”

“Aw, don’t deny it.” He approaches his face to yours, his annoying ‘charm’ turning on. “I knew you’d like me eventually. Everyone does-”

You shove his face away with your hands, muffling his words by doing so. “I will never ever like you.”

You truly believe those words, trying your best to ignore the tingling going through your skin after you touched his face. This is not going to change how you feel about Duke. You’ll make sure of it.

But Duke seems to be sure of something else, as he starts to laugh while he gently puts your hands away from his face.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Wuornos.” He gives you a knowing smile. “But I know the truth.”

You realize that you’ve let him hold onto your hands, your mind to enraptured by the feeling of it to let you do anything about it until now. You suddenly pull them back towards you, sending him a glare.

“In your dreams, Duke.”

“Already happened.”

You give out a gagging sound while you walk away from him, his laugh resonating in your ears. You were hoping there wasn’t a blush creeping up on your cheeks, having never been able to feel the heat of it. What you could feel was your heartbeat getting incredibly louder inside your chest, your mind already screaming at it to stop.

This is one of the many reasons why you try so hard to avoid Duke. You try your best to hate him, to despise him... and you do... until you get to spend time with him, and then you have to beat yourself up to hate him again. You don’t want to like him, not after what happened between him and your brother all those years ago... and you’re not gonna let his stupid feeling exception put all of your past efforts to crumble.

So why are you not quite believing that?

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

“Boo.”

You give out a scream when you hear Duke suddenly whisper that word in your ears, already pushing him away from you. “What the hell?!”

“Aw, did I scare you?” He gives you a grin. “Sorry... not sorry!”

You glare at him, feeling your hands starting to tingle from having just pushed him. It’s been a week since you’ve felt anything, having realized that it wasn’t worth risking your brother’s trust. So you’ve started to avoid the crooked criminal again, and it worked. Until now.

Gosh, why did you have to go on a walk today?

“What do you want?”

“To bother you. I think it’s a good payback from last time.” He shrugs, his words already making you groan in annoyance as you start walking away. “I also wanted to see how you were doing. You know? With the whole ‘liking me’ thing?”

“I don’t like you.”

“Hm. Right.” He snaps his fingers before he points at you. “You love me.”

You suddenly stop in your tracks, sending him a glare. “I do not love you!”

He just gives you a large grin as an answer, as if he knew something you didn’t, which only seems to make you angrier.

“What?”

“You’re pretty when you’re mad-ow!” He rubs his arms after you hit it, his grin coming back soon after. “See? You like me!”

You shake your head at him. “How is me hitting you proof that I like you?”

“I don’t know... maybe the fact that you’re blushing?” Your eyes open wide, your hands immediately going to your cheeks to try and feel the heat: but as usual, nothing. “If you don’t believe me, I can fetch a mirror for you.”

“I’m not blushing.” You walk away from him, deciding to just deny everything. “You’re lying.”

“But I’m not!” He follows you close behind, forcing you to stop walking when he suddenly jumps in front of you. “Come on... why are you denying it?”

You glare at him once more. “I don’t need to deny things that don't exist.”

“Is liking me that much of a bad thing?” His question takes you by surprise, and you can almost sense a glint of pain in his eyes. “You don’t have to hate me just cause your brother does, you know?”

“Are you not hearing me when I talk?” You poke his shoulder with your finger, slightly pushing him away. “I. Don’t. Like. You.”

“But I like you.”

You stare at him in shock, your words choking in your throat. “... what?”

“I said I like you.” He puts his hands in his jeans’ pockets, seeming a little less confident than before. “I always have, and I know you like me... so why won’t you just give me a chance?”

“I...” You give out a sigh, rubbing your face with your hands. “Why do you keep saying that I like you?”

He lightly chuckles. “Why did you suddenly start touching me so much?”

“Because...” You hesitate for a second, then give out another sigh. “Cause I can feel you, okay?”

He stares at you for a second, confusion in his eyes. “Huh?”

“When you pat my back the other day.” You cross your arms over your chest, a sense of embarrassment going through you. “I felt that, but I wasn’t sure it was real... so that’s why I kept hitting you and all.”

“... you can feel me?”

“Yeah.” You notice the glint of an idea going through his eyes, frowning. “What are you thinking, Crocker?”

“So if I do this...” Your eyes widen when he suddenly takes your hand in his, his lips stretching out into a grin. “... you can feel that?”

You feel a shot of electricity running through your arm, watching his fingers intertwine with yours. “... what are you doing?” 

“What if I do this....” You shut your eyes close when you suddenly feel his other hand against your cheek, his fingers gently pushing a strand of hair away from your face. “... can you also feel that?”

You feel the warmth of his skin against yours, a shudder running down your spine for the first time in your entire life. You open your eyes again, now seeing him getting dangerously closer. “Duke... seriously...”

“What about this?”

You’ve never been able to feel what a kiss feels like before that moment, your mind screaming the moment you felt his lips on yours. Every little movement he made, every touch of his fingers against your skin felt like little explosions that had dangerous consequences for your heart. You couldn’t think anymore, all you could do was feel, and when he parts away a few seconds later, you can barely hear him talk.

“Did you feel that?”

“I...” A stutter threatens to come out, your free hand slowly raising so you can point at him. “... I hate you...”

He gives out a grin at your answer, noticing the tremble in your voice. “Really? I beg to differ-ow!” He gives out a laugh when he realizes that you’ve hit his shoulder yet again. “Well, I guess you definitely felt that.”

You try to wipe his touch away from your lips, without any use. “Don’t do that again.”

“Alright, I’ll do that again.” He gives out a larger grin. “As many times as you want.”

“You know that’s not what I said!” You realize that you’re still holding his hand, and so you try to free yourself, but without any success. “Duke, let go of my hand.”

“Nope.”

“Let go of my hand!”

“Not until you agree that you like me.” You give out a groan, which only seems to make his grin wider. “I’m waiting...”

“Fine!” You shake your head before you glare at him. “I like you. Satisfied?”

“Very.” He lets go of your hand, a sense of disappointment washing over you when he does. “Now... are you free tonight?”

You squint your eyes at him. “... why?”

“So I can take you on a proper date.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, then give out a sigh. “... you’re not gonna take ‘no’ as an answer, are you?”

His lips stretch out. “Does that mean you’re saying ‘yes’?”

You hated him. You’ve always hated him, just like your brother did. You swore this newfound discovery wouldn’t change anything... but gosh, it did. And there’s nothing you can do about it.

“Yeah.” You give out a sigh. “Yeah... I guess I can go on a date with you.”

“Yes!”

You can’t help but chuckle when you see him throw his fist up in the air in victory.

And you know, maybe... just maybe... this little exception is a hint that this is destiny.

[illegal-spiegel]

TikTok Famous Yuji Itadori/Ryomen Sukuna

Genre: crack? Warnings: eboy/fboy shenanigans A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY ITADORI!! Lol I had this idea at like 3 am when I was going to bed so sorry if this sucks <3

Itadori started out with just posting goofy and tiktoks of himself

he, like most, didn’t expect to become famous and was just doing it for fun

he had a decent amount of followers though since he’s funny and is friends with practically everyone at his school 

one day, he went live to just talk to the hundred people or so that joined

they all kept daring him to go to a haunted house, graveyard, or somewhere spooky like that

Yuji Itadori wouldn’t be Yuji Itadori if he ever backed down from a challenge 

so, the next thing he knows, he’s in the car with his two best friends heading to a ‘haunted’ location 

Itadori doesn’t actually believe in ghosts or anything like that though

they brought an ouija board and everything 

they all sat down and started using it to ‘talk’ to spirits

his friends claimed that since he’s recording, the spirits won’t talk to them though

“I’m not recording! I’m live on TikTok!” he argues

they make him end the live nonetheless

when he did though, their candles flicker and they all suddenly feel a chill go down their spine 

they all brush it off as the wind and go back to trying to contact spirits

they end up ‘contacting’ a few but Itadori was looking for something a little more exciting 

“Demons and devils alike! Make yourself known!” he roars

one of his friends hits his arm and tells him that it wasn’t funny and that he shouldn’t egg them on like that 

“Like what? Oh, like this?” 

he then stands up and starts to goad the demons and whatever else is there 

“You’re all ugly! I bet you’re too weak to do anything to me! C’mon! Show us something exciting!” 

when nothing happens, as he predicts, he turns back to his friends with a smile 

“See? I told y—” 

the lights suddenly go out and the moon is all they have as light

Itadori shivers, seeing his breath when he lets out a sigh 

before anyone can really react, Itadori’s head is thrown back 

he stands as stiff as a board, even when his friends call out to him worriedly 

what they can’t see are his eyes glowing red and his jaw unhinged 

tattoos crawl along his body before disappearing, Itadori’s head coming up when they vanish 

“C’mon, guys, let’s go back. I’m bored,” Itadori says like nothing happened

maybe nothing did 

the next day though, Itadori was in the middle of filming a video when the demon appears 

“What are you wearing, kid?” the demon asks when he sees his reflection in the oddly tiny and rectangle mirror

the demon stands and stretches out his limbs, taking a deep breath 

“It’s good to be back.” 

he’s not back for long before he’s sent away, Itadori returning back to his usual self 

“What just happened...” 

Itadori brushes it off as lack of sleep before going back to his video and then going to bed early 

over the next week, the demon secretly watches Itadori’s actions 

he’s fascinated by his phone, as the boy calls it, and all the videos he posts, as he also learned from listening in on Itadori’s conversations  

the next time he appears, it’s when Itadori is out at the mall 

the demon buys things more in his style before making his way back to their home 

when he arrives, he puts on the black clothes and piercings he got 

and just for the fun of it, he records a video 

he doesn’t do much though, seeing as how he doesn’t know what’s popular these days 

he just smirks at the camera with bedroom eyes and rolls his sleeves up to show off his strong muscles and tattooed arms, lightly bobbing his head to the music

when he finishes it, he saves it and changes Itadori back before letting Itadori take over again 

Itadori blinks a couple of times before realizing he’s at home 

strange, he doesn’t remember driving back 

hm, guess he really needs to start paying attention more

about a week later, he comes across the video in his drafts and doesn’t know what to say 

sure, he’s played around with the idea of dressing up like an eboy for the hype but every time he’s tried, he’s never looked good, in his opinion 

he shrugs it off and decides to post it, trying to remember when he painted on tattoos like that 

say, where did those clothes come from? 

it didn’t take long for the video to blow up 

Itadori was in awe when he realized it 

he was a little bummed though when none of his other videos blew up though 

guess he really is just going to have to dress up like an eboy to receive attention

the next time he goes to record, he makes sure to put on a similar outfit, that he doesn’t remember buying, before recording 

the demon uses this as his opportunity to record again 

he’s made sure to pay attention to videos that Itadori watches on his homepage, remembering different dances and songs that would go with his aesthetic 

he doesn’t know why he enjoys the attention so much. Maybe it’s because he’s not strong enough to take control over this body yet, so he’s just killing time for now 

or maybe he’s just a bit of a showoff

who knows

either way, when he starts to play the slow and sensual song, he smirks as he rolls his hips and shows off the veins in his arms 

he doesn’t hesitate to post it either 

as soon as he does though, Itadori returns 

the man blinks before assuming he spaced out, seeing as how he’s still on the app 

he turns the camera on and looks over himself, grunting

he thought he looked good in the mirror but the fake tattoos really did the outfit justice 

he started to wonder if he could do it again when he notices that he’s starting to get a lot of new notifications 

he starts to grow excited before realizing that it’s a video he’s never seen before 

he watches it with a dropped jaw, not believing that it’s him 

he checks the date and—hey! That’s today!

that doesn’t make sense though. He hasn’t recorded anything yet and he doesn’t have the tattoos painted on his skin 

‘Can you be any dumber? Jeez, maybe I should’ve chosen one of your friends instead. You were just so annoying though, standing there and taunting me, acting as if I can’t do anything.’ 

“What? Who’s there?” Itadori stutters out, looking around his bedroom only to find himself alone 

‘What? Can you hear me, kid?’ 

“Um, yes?” Itadori says unsurely, wondering if he’s losing his mind 

‘You’re not losing your mind, I’m just inside of it. Ha, that was kinda funny.’ 

“I’m sorry, you’re what?” Itadori asks, crashing into his seat

‘Hey, don’t pass out. I’m just a friendly, little demon that’s possessing you.’ 

“Oh, right, of course,” Itadori mumbles, rubbing his hands over his face

‘It’s true, kid. Remember when you went out with your friends and started yelling at spirits or whatever to do something exciting? Well, I hope this is exciting enough.’ 

“Okay, wait. Let me get this straight. So, you’re telling me that I’m not actually insane and that you’re a real demon possessing me?”

‘Precisely. Glad you’re a quick learner, kid.’ 

“Right, so, um, do you have a name?” 

‘Sukuna.’

“Sukuna, okay. And do you, Sukuna, have anything to do with my patchy memory?”

‘Why, I’m glad you asked! I actually do. Hm, smart kid.’ 

“So, how does that work exactly?” 

‘It’s simple. When I have enough power saved up or just feel like it, you and I switch places.’

“Switch places?”

‘Yup. So, I’m in your brain right now but when I switch with you, you move to the brain and I take over the body,’ Sukuna explains. 

“Right, okay, cool. I’m guessing you’re responsible for the videos with the tattoos then?” 

‘Also correct. We look good, huh?’ 

Itadori pauses to pick up his phone and unlock it, watching the two videos that he’s made 

“Yeah, we do, actually. I’m getting famous, you know.” 

‘Well, kudos, kid.’ 

“Do you, uh, think you could do this again?”

‘What, make videos for you?’

“Yeah. You like making them, right? I’m sure you like to have control over my body for a while too.”

‘Hm, you got a point.’

“So, will you do it, Sukuna?”

‘Hmm, I don’t know.’ 

“You don’t know?” 

‘I want longer control over your body.’

“Um, okay. How do I do that?”

‘Well, now that you know I’m here, you’ll be more conscious about ‘where’ I’m at. So, if given your permission, I can take over your body for as long as I want.’

“That doesn’t sound too bad...”

‘Great! We have a deal then.’

“I guess so.”

and that, my friends, is how Itadori because famously known as one of the hottest tiktok boys 

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MASTERLIST

More with Itadori

Tag List: @nojammsss03​, @katsuhera​ ✦ if you would like to be added or removed, comment or send an ask. Also, remember to tell me if you ever change your username so I can continue to tag you :)

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[izabellq]

Costumes -> Tamaki Amajiki

summary: you accidentally match costumes with tamaki. prepare yourself for a whole day of endless shenanigans.

contains: MAJOR FLUFF, language if you squint (ik canonically, mirio is in 3-B, but for the sake of this plot, the big three are all in 3-A) also, i tried to make this gender-neutral, so if there’s any specified pronouns, let me know and i’ll fix it ASAP!

THIS IS MY HALLOWEEN SPECIAL! (im very much aware i posted this a day late oop)

UA had decided to hold a special event where students could wear their Halloween costume to school. You weren’t planning anything special or unique, just something to get the job done. So, you decided to dress like a cute puppy. It was only a simple onesie: topped with cute floppy dog ears on your hood, and a tail that attached from the bottom. You weren’t expecting to get a lot of attention, which was perfectly fine with you because you were never the type to seek the stage. You topped off the simple look with a black spot on your nose and one around your eye. And just like, you were good to go.

When you walked into school, you couldn’t help but feel a tad bit insecure. It seemed like everyone had decked out for this special occasion. You passed by some anime cosplay, food costumes, group oriented costumes — everything you could possibly think of. And as you made your way to your class, you wondered what Tamaki would be wearing.

You couldn’t help yourself. It was undeniably true that you had a rather large crush on him. Everything about him was enticing. He was so shy that it was usually you who initiated conversation, but that wasn’t enough to make you falter. You understood he wasn’t the most socially active person around. To be frank, it was rather comforting to know that not everyone at UA was a egotistical narcissist.

Finding your assigned seat, you scanned the class. Some of your peers also took the simple route which put some of your thoughts at ease. Others, the more competitive students, were quite impressive themselves.

You turn towards the doorway when Mirio’s booming voice gathers the room’s attention. He was wearing a... whoopie cushion? Oh dear lord. Mirio was a stickler for humor, so of course, he’d wear practically anything that could rise a laugh out of someone. Only, his jokes kind of sucked and no doubt would the class of 3-A be subject to awful fart jokes for the rest of the day. You weren’t so worried about that as you were worried about the two other students usually attached to his hip. One of them being Tamaki Amajiki.

The next one to stop into class was Nejire Hado who was absolutely breathtaking. Her costume, which was nothing more than a fairy, seemed to capture her true personality perfectly. Although, an angel would also be very accurate in her case. She turned towards the entrance way and stuck her head out into the hallway, “Tamaki! Don’t be shy! You look so cute!”

Your heart began to beat just a little bit faster.

“Mirio! Come help me out with him,” Nejire stomped into the hallway, the fluttering of her makeshift wings dissappeared, only to be followed by a laughing Mirio.

When they returned, their hands were clasped over Tamaki’s wrists, forbidding him from turning around and sulking out in the hallway. When you saw him, you’re taken aback. The smallest of gasps erupt from your lips when you notice his costume choice. A onesie, similar to yours, but instead of the dog ears; replaced with cat ones, and a longer tail attached to the back. He had the same minimal face paint (lined whiskers and a nose) as you did, curtesy of Nejire.

When he looked up, his cheeks were flamed with embarrassment. He found your gaze, and if it were possible, he became even more sheepish. You weren’t any different. The thought of having a matching costume with Tamaki, despite not having any prior arrangements, made you equally embarrassed. Now, all you wondered was, did he notice?

Well, if he didn’t before, he sure did now when Nejire spoke up, “Hey Y/N! Oh my– are you a puppy? How cute! Wait! You’re matching with Tamaki! Now you two look like an adorable couple!”

Her excitement, plus her lack of censorship, made the class laugh— everyone’s attention on you and Tamaki. “Nejire...” Tamaki muttered. He stared at the floor, wishing it’d just swallow him whole.

“You guys should take a picture together,” Mirio suggested, walking over to where you sat and giving you a hand. You hesitantly took it, positive that you looked about ready to vomit or pass out. Maybe both. In that order.

Dragged to stand next to Tamaki, you spare him a single glance. He has his left hand up to his face, doing a shoty job at covering his red cheeks. To you, he seemed... more embarrassed than usual? Perhaps he just didn’t wanted to match costumes with you. It saddened you, but it wasn’t like you could do anything about it now.

Nejire laughed, “Say cheese!”

Tamaki mumbled something that you could only assume was in response to Nejire. In a small pickle of confidence, you grabbed his hand and entangled your fingers with his just before the camera went off.

“Cheese!”

That was first period.

When lunch rolled around, Tamaki had face planted himself on the table.

Nejire and Mirio sent each other a knowing look before moving to console him.

“I don’t understand why you’re not happy, Tamaki! You’re matching costumes with them, you got a picture with them, and they also held your hand!” Nejire listed off the things that happened before the bell rang, signaling the start of first period.

“I am happy...” Tamaki muttered, lifting himself up from the table, “But they probably hate me now.”

“I wouldn’t say that!” Mirio added, “Haven’t I told you that they most definitely have a crush on you?”

“No offense Mirio... but I’m not too keen on taking advice from a literal walking whoopie cushion.” Tamaki propped his arm on the table, before leaning his head into the palm of his hand. The same one you had so eagerly held. He wished to repeat the notion a million more times. Only now, he was afraid he had messed up his one and only opportunity.

Mirio gasped, “I’ll have you know that I got many compliments today!”

Nejire giggled before turning back to Tamaki. “Why don’t we just call them over here?”

“I- um, no... I’d rather not do that,” Tamaki rushed out. He wasn’t sure if he could handle another awkward occurrence with you. You’d surely find him weird.

“Where are they anyways?” Mirio asked, not before sinking his teeth on the apple provided on his lunch tray.

“Oh I see them!” Nejire not-so-subtly pointed at you. Tamaki couldn’t help himself as he turned to look in your direction.

You were laughing at something someone had said before adding your own little quip. You were so cute, he thought. Nejire was the one who suggested he wear a cat-themed costume due to the running joke that he was a ‘cute little kitten’. He was prepared to arrive in his normal uniform but Nejire’s persistence was unwavering. And if he knew what you’d be wearing— would he have accepted the costume more easily? You deserved better than him, he knew, but a small part of him fantasized about the ways you’d love him in a way no one else had before.

“Earth to Tamaki,” Nejire sang, snapping him out of his thoughts. “They’re coming over here, straighten up!”

“Hey Y/N, care to sit?” Mirio asked.

Tamaki’s looking down by the time you got there, so he barely registers it when you sit beside him. Your shoulder rubs against his in brief contact and it makes him shudder. He hopes you didn’t notice.

“What’s up guys?” You brought over a juice box from your other table, sipping on the straw of your drink rather intently.

“Tell Tamaki that my costume is funny!” Mirio piped up, distracted from the match-making he was SUPPOSED to be doing.

You nervously giggled, “Well... your costume is certainly an attention-grabber!”

Mirio seemed pleased with that answer, not having considered the fact that you dodged the question the best way you knew how. Tamaki stared at you, adoration etched into his irises. He didn’t realize he had left out a soft laugh until you were staring at him.

He choked up, “Uh- sorry... I didn’t mean to laugh.”

You smiled, a picture definition of the word perfect. Everything about you, he loved. He just loved you in general. “You don’t need to apologize Tamaki! Your laugh is very cute!”

You pinched his cheek before continuing your previous conversation with Mirio and Nejire. Did you even realize what you were doing to him? He hid his face in his arms and rested on the lunch table. Tamaki knew his face was probably several shades of red and pink. He was only wondering how long it would take before you’d actually kill him with your presence.

And that concluded lunch.

The last period of the day came and went uneventfully. And soon enough, class 3A had returned to the dorms, agreeing to remain in their respective costumes until the clock striked midnight. Some students had decided to spend the night on a scary movie binge, while others payed no mind to the event by studying and finishing thier cumulated late assignments.

You on the other hand we’re stuck in the kitchen, preparing some coffee to get you through the night. Mirio and Nejire had wanted to pull an all-nighter as well, which meant you had to figure out a way to not fall alseep before midnight hit. You already had a messed up sleep schedule as it was, so one more added incentive should make the whole evening smooth sailing.

“Y-Y/N?”

You turn towards the kitchen doorway where Tamaki stood, a bit shellshocked from your presence. Still in that cat onesie, you could see his whiskers had become a bit smudged.

You smiled at him, an ache wrapped around your chest became noticeably present to you. “Amajiki! Shouldn’t you be up in Mirio’s room with Nejire? I’ll be up there in a second, I just gotta finish this.”

“Ah, well,” Tamaki moved into the kitchen, fidgeting with his fingers as he talked. “You were taking a while, so they sent me to check up on you. I’m glad you’re o-okay though.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, turning back to the light stirring of the coffee machine. Your fingers uncoordinatedly tapped the kitchen’s counter, a melodic beat strung to match your voice. Tamaki watched with amusement— nothing like the sight of you in your element could make him any happier.

Actually, there was one thing that would be slightly better.

Slowly, he approached you until he had occupied the space beside you. You noticed him almost immediately, but had pretended to take more interest in your coffee than him. Your heart rate picked up, leaving you to mentally curse your inability to remain calm.

“I have a question,” His voice was hushed, a bit unsure of itself. You turned to look at him but his vision remained on the counter.

“What’s up?” When the coffee machine stilled, you pulled your mug out and carefully placed it in front of you. The smell of the roasted beans infiltrated your nostrils and you couldn’t get enough of it.

“Do you- I mean... I think I’m... no that’s not right. I think it’d better if I just show you...” He bit the inside of his lip, whilst finally mustering the courage to look at you. You’re eyes were widened with curiosity, the reflection of the night settling in your skin.

He moves slightly closer, and when you don’t move away, he softly places his hand on your cheek, angling your face so your centimeters away from each other. Tamaki tries to speak, but he honestly didn’t even think he’d get this far. He’s left utterly speechless. Perhaps if Fatgum were here, he’d supply him with the confidence he needed to pull this off. His anxiety-prone thoughts began to take initiative and he starts to pull away, believing to have bit off more than he could chew. He really did believe you deserved better than him.

But your still there. You’ve always been there. In more ways than one. You grip the front of his onesie and pull him back to his previous spot. His hand recupped your face, and you take this opportunity of surprise to place your lips on his. Nothing more than a second long, only the brush of your lips before the tingling sensation had dissappeared all together.

It wasn’t enough. For either of you. You can’t remember who surged forward first, but it couldn’t have mattered less. The only thing that was being even remotely processed was the heat of your frenzied kisses. Tamaki poured all of his emotions into that moment; from the way he felt when seeing you in your puppy onesie to the butterflies that clouded his mind whenever he thought of you.

You were the first to pull back out of breath. You don’t care that your makeup is beyond repair, or that his is either. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you muttered six words into the smooth crevice of his skin, completely forgetting about the coffee you were prepping for yourself. “I love you, I always have.”

Tamaki smiled, though the nervousness hadn’t completely disappeared. “I love you too.” He admitted, feeling his heart flutter at the mutual affection. It wasn’t one-sided after all, not one bit.

Maybe he ought to take more advice from his friend the whoopie cushion.

Then again, maybe not.

“There waiting for us you know,” Your voice was a bit muffled, having been the after-effect of hiding your face in his neck. He understood you perfectly nonetheless.

“They can wait a little longer,” His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you impossibly closer.

“Kiss me again,” You pleaded.

And so, he did just that.

CHECK OUT MASTERLIST HERE!

[nneogram]

think about it — part one. get laid!

pairing: jaehyun x reader (f)

genre: enemies to lovers!au, college!au, fluff

word count: 8.4k

warnings: language, mentions of sex but not really (oc keeps being told to get laid “emotionally” idk), jungwoo gets scolded about the importance of consent, jungwoo’s in a frat but not really but yes really, quick reminiscent phone call w/ bestie jungkook, oc has unhealthy studying habits but dw it gradually gets better from here

a/n: i’ll say it for all of us - FINALLY, an update on here. this is result of my own college shenanigans, stories from my friends, and far too many fantasies whilst in quarantine. jeni needs to lay off the k-dramas, sheesh. i’d also like to note that this is unedited! there may be a few grammar/spelling mistakes.

▸ playlist (to be linked later)

Your roommate claims that you need to, in the simplest terms, “Get laid.” You are vehemently against this proposal, despite her insistence and clarification.

“Emotionally. You need to get laid emotionally, Y/N,” Megan whines. That’s all she can do from where she is sitting, tucked safely away beneath the blankets on her bed. It’s cocoon-like, she’s explained to you before, “like being in the womb.” Safe. Secure. Warm. You think that if that was her cocoon, then Megan would emerge a butterfly. If you were in her place? You would emerge a moth.

“I don’t think any getting laid needs to be done, regardless of if it’s emotional or not.” You take another flashcard from your prepared deck. Strong Acids. HCl, HBr, HI… HClO4? A hiss leaves your lips when you flip the card over to see the answer. You were missing two more acids. You reluctantly place the card into the pile to review again, which sat next to a much smaller pile of correct cards. The goal for the morning was to move all the cards in the “wrong” pile to the “right” pile, but considering the size difference of the two stacks, that goal would not be achieved.

Megan’s sigh pulls you from your focus. “Dude. Do you see yourself right now? I don’t think I’ve seen you doing anything other than studying for the past two weeks. I’m going to ace this chem midterm and I’m not even in chem. I’m not even a STEM major.”

You frown. “Sorry. Was I being too loud? I can go-”

“No, don’t worry about me. This is about you. I’m concerned for you - you’ve been cooped up more these two weeks than you were in the entirety of fall quarter. Have you taken a break recently?”

“I slept for eight hours straight, I think that’s a good enough break?”

“No, like a real break. Away from studies and school and just doing something… I dunno, fun?”

You shake your head. The past few weeks had been nothing but relentless studying. In an effort to maintain your pristine GPA, you shoved aside what little downtime you allotted yourself in fall quarter to focus on school. It was the least you could do, considering that you were on track to apply to medical school at the end of your undergraduate career. You were only in your first year, so all of the other requirements for med school - clinic, shadowing, research, the works - were inapplicable for the time being. There wasn’t much to get you ahead other than your 4.0.

Megan knows this, but she also knows that you have little to no social life outside of the bare minimum. It’s an unspoken truth that the two of you being assigned as roommates was a blessing in disguise: your studious tendencies help motivate Megan to stay on task while Megan’s more laidback nature reminds you to take a breather sometimes. 

This was one of those times.

“I’m telling you,” Megan crawls over to the edge of her bed to get closer, “You should relax a bit. Just a teeny, tiny bit. Have some fun, live out your first year of college! Make some art, go to the gym, I dunno, step out of your comfort zone. Get laid!”

“You say that last one as if talking from experience,” you tease. 

What was the charge on sulfide again? Fuck, it was two minus. Another card goes into the “wrong” pile.

Megan scoffs. “Please. I’ve only ever had one boyfriend, and that was in middle school. The most we did was hold hands. Besides, we don’t need men… I just want one.” She mumbles this last part as an afterthought before returning her focus to you. “I think getting a boyfriend would be a great distraction for you.”

You gawk at your roommate, eyes flitting from her to your toppling stack of incorrectly answered cards and back to her. “Do you see this? I don’t need any distractions right now.”

“No, no, I - fuck. I got that all wrong, didn’t I.” Megan facepalms. “What I mean is maybe you should befriend some people, or find some kind of emotional outlet. As much as I pride myself on being your source of positivity, I’m not around all the time to tell you to take a break and relax. You tend to be hard on yourself, y’know?”

Your gaze once again travels to your flashcards, their amount of use prominent in the worn-down corners and smudged ink. “I guess…”

There’s a smile of satisfaction on Megan’s face. “Think about it,” she concludes, then crawls back to her cocoon of blankets to take a nap.

--

The gloom of the rainy weather hits most forcefully in January. With the merriment of the holiday season behind you, it seems there is nothing ahead but cold, and rain, and emptiness. Only so many mugs of hot chocolate could keep your heart warm, and it wasn’t even the good type of hot chocolate - it was the powdery stuff that you mixed in with your lukewarm water because the water kettle you brought with you to the dorm was buggy and never fully heated up a pot of water. 

Yeah, you could buy yourself a cup of cocoa from the coffee shop on campus, but as the college kid stereotype proved, you were broke. So you settle for your half-assed attempt at a comfort drink, taking extra effort to stir the dregs that tend to settle at the bottom of your styrofoam cup.

“So you need to get laid?” Jungkook’s voice crackles over the phone.

You sigh. For getting into one of the most prestigious universities in the country, Jungkook lacked the ability to draw proper conclusions from given information. He clearly hadn’t paid attention to your five minute spiel on your deteriorating motivation for life and your roommate’s unusual suggestion. “No,” you begin slowly, because if you didn’t control yourself you were going to get annoyed quickly, “I do not need to get laid.”

It’s dusk, around that time of the evening where the world slows down as the sky is painted a myriad of pinks, purples, and oranges. Even in January the sunsets in your college town never failed to astonish you. However, it’s also the time of the day when loneliness hits you most, and for a fraction of a moment you get homesick and usually end up calling someone from home. In this case, you end up contacting a close friend - though you’re beginning to question Jungkook’s title as a close friend, considering he completely missed the point of your rant.

“Well it sure sounds like it,” Jungkook refutes. There’s a loud crunching noise on the other end of the call, and you have to bring the phone away from your ear as the crackling continues. You know for a fact that Jungkook has bitten into a chip, most likely the barbecue ones he always had on hand. The audacity to snack on junk food in the middle of a conversation about your existential crisis - you sometimes wonder how you and Jungkook became friends in high school. 

Then again, you were on the other end slurping the remnants of your hot cocoa. Maybe there was something going for the two of you.

“Think about it.” You’re reminded of that afternoon when Megan said the exact same thing. “You’re unmotivated. Why? Because you’re lonely. How do we fix that? You need to get laid-”

“-Emotionally. Emotionally laid-”

“-Yeah yeah, same difference. They go hand in hand,” Jungkook brushes off. “The point still stands. When was the last time you were in a relationship?”

You hesitate to answer. “I’ve never been in a relationship,” you mumble.

“I couldn’t hear you. What?”

“I said I’ve never been in a relationship,” you repeat with a sigh.

There’s a beat of silence. “You’re kidding.”

You shake your head, momentarily forgetting this is a phone call and not an in-person conversation where Jungkook can see you. Students begin to flood the sidewalks outside of the dorms, likely the last wave of students returning for their later classes. A girl - Megan, you realize after squinting - waves at you from across the street. You wave back, gesturing to her that you’re on a call. She nods and goes on her way to the dorm. 

You return your focus to the call. “No, not kidding.”

“I’m taking that lapse of silence as you actually having to think about it.” You roll your eyes, another gesture that Jungkook cannot see. “How? You’re telling me all four years of high school you never got with someone? Not even a fling? Not even that weird ‘talking’ phase kids do these days? What have you been doing all this time?”

Your mind immediately goes back to your high school graduation. “Valedictorian, weighted GPA of 4.8, Y/N Y/L/N, attending…” You remember the smile on your face as the principal handed you your diploma. You remember the smiles on your parents’ faces, the pride and joy in their eyes. That was when you knew it had all been worth it - no one but you, your parents, and your own pure ambition fueling your fire for the four years of high school.

Maybe the closest you got to any sort of romantic relationship was… with Jungkook.

You liked Jungkook before your brain could fully process it, denying it as platonic affection for the better half of three years as he took you under his wing your freshman year. It was comforting to have someone older than you help you navigate high school, but as much as you tried you could not view Jungkook as an older brother as he so claimed to be.

Of course, nothing was ever to happen. Jeon Jungkook was a boy entirely out of your league - star student, star athlete, poster child for all things good and right in the world - but most importantly, he was your closest friend. It was this label that helped set a boundary for your affections, and your crush became more of a pastime to delve into when you wanted a break from your studies. A fantasy that would never come true.

It wasn’t until he moved away for college your senior year that your crush subsided, hitting you like some sort of epiphany when he returned for his winter break. You had been beyond elated to reunite with your friend, but when you looked in his eyes it dawned on you that the weight of his words and actions no longer affected you as much as they did in the past.

That was your only stint with romance, and you were fine with it staying that way. Yeah, it was a fruitless endeavor, but look what you got out of it: a great friend! And only at the price of three years of unnecessary emotional turmoil and relentless unrequited pining. What a bargain.

“I’ve been busy with school, mainly.” It’s an insufficient summation of your high school experience, but it got the point across. Technically, it wasn’t a lie.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m proud of you and all - and I respect your decision to be single! Human rights and all that - but maybe it’s time for you to get into a relationship.”

You snap your fingers loudly enough to startle a group of guys walking past. You hope the grimace on your face is enough of an apology. “Oh my God, thanks Jungkook! Now that you mention it, let me just hit up one of the many young eligible bachelors pining over me, because there are so many right now.”

The feigned enthusiasm in your voice does not entertain Jungkook as much as you would have liked it to. “I’m sure there are, Y/N. There were plenty in high school.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” The playful smile you sport falls from your lips as he proceeds to dive into a list of names. 

“The one guy with the yellow hair… Yugyeom thought you were cute… Oh, Taehyung liked you too-”

“-Taehyung?” You gawk. “The Kim Taehyung. The guy two years older than you, editor of the yearbook and captain of the lacrosse team? The Kim Taehyung who was Prom King. Him?” It’s difficult to process a senior that you had regarded so highly had taken  interest in you in your lowly freshman year.

“Yeah, I know, right? I told him he was out of your league-”

“-Hey!”

“-But I said that out of jealousy. Heck, even I liked you at some point, Y/N. You’re quite a catch, just super oblivious.”

The reminder of your phone call with Jungkook consists of your disbelieving laughs and Jungkook’s reassurances that yes, that many people liked you in high school.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of people interested in you. You just have to see it for yourself first.” Oddly prophetic for someone who claims he could survive solely off of energy drinks and barbecue chips, but considering he was studying at an Ivy League, he had to have some credibility. You end the phone call possibly more confused than you had been before the conversation. Swirling the contents of your cup absentmindedly, you realize you’ve drunk all of your hot cocoa. All that is left at the bottom of your cup are the clumps of cocoa powder that hadn’t been properly stirred. The dregs. Of course.

You relay your findings to Megan the next day over a lunch of poorly cooked rice and under seasoned chicken. “Food crafted by the gods to remind us of our inferiority,” as Megan liked to call it.

She claps her hands like a seal. “So I was right!” She cheers over a mouthful of food. “You need to get laid!”

You’re a bit too late to cover her mouth, her ambiguous words now out in the open for others nearby to hear and assume the wrong thing. Glancing around, you’re relieved to find that no one seemed to notice, save for one boy at a nearby table surrounded by some of his friends. He gives you a look but you refrain from making eye contact.

“I feel like you and I heard different stories just now.” You keep your voice down. “Meg, I just found out my high school crush - debatably, my first love - liked me at some point when I liked him. Do you know how big that is?”

“Do you know how big that isn’t?” Megan shoots back. “Because nothing came out of it. You never acted on your feelings. And something tells me that even if this John Cook-”

“-His name is Jungkook, but okay-”

“-Even if he had acted on his feelings, you would never believe it.” Ouch. She really went for your lack of self-esteem right there, and that shit hurted. Regardless, she’s right, and you both know it.

“You know when we say this, we’re not trying to force you into anything you don’t want to do,” Megan clarifies. “I’m not saying you should get dicked down by the first guy who gives you attention, but wouldn’t it be nice to let someone - someone who genuinely cares for you - to let them into that dark and twisty mind of yours? God knows what’s going on up there.” She gestures to your forehead with her spoon.

Brushing aside Megan’s crude wording near the beginning, you’re at a loss for words. Unsure of how to respond, you mumble, “But there’s no one like that in my life. Other than you, that is.”

“Because you never let anyone close enough to truly know you. Just…” she pops another spoonful of rice into her mouth, “Just think about it.”

-- 

D-1 until your midterm. Nomenclature and ionic charges are now extremely familiar to you, having taken the spot from Megan as Number One Friend. And yet, you still haven’t successfully completed your flashcards.

Strong Acids. You suck in a deep breath, swerving in between groups of people as you make your way to the cafe. Walking quickly with your head down as the sure fire way of getting to any destination as quickly as possible. Okay Y/N, you got this… HCl, HBr, HI, HClO4… HNO3? You flip the card over and hiss. You were missing one more response. You truly hated it here.

The cafe is bustling with students on their laptops and scribbling away in notebooks, all likely studying for their respective exams. The scent of freshly ground coffee beans pervades the entirety of the interior, drawing you further inward until you’re standing at the cashier. 

“One tall vanilla latte, please.” You hand the girl behind the counter your money and stand aside to let the next person in line order. Once your order is called, you grab your drink - Ah, nothing like a fresh cup of capitalism to revitalize your motivation to study - and search for a place to sit. As if by the grace of God, someone leaves their seat at the barstools just as you turn around. Beautiful.

“Excuse me,” you tap the shoulder of one of the people next to the open seat. “Is this seat taken?” He shakes his head no, and you take that as your signal to sit.

You find yourself sandwiched between two young men, each immersed in their own studies. The one to your right, the one you had talked to briefly, appears to want no further interruptions, both earbuds in his ears. The one to your left never turned around to begin with, head down as he types away at his laptop. All you can make out are his broad shoulders in a brown leather jacket and a mop of strawberry blond hair. An interesting choice of hair color, but you weren’t one to judge. He’s nodding his head to some tune, and it’s only then you realize he has one earbud in. You wonder what kind of music a cute man like himself would listen to -

Get a hold of yourself, Y/N, you chastise yourself for showing sudden interest in a complete stranger. The day before your midterm at that - there was no space in your head for an unknown young man who was probably good looking, too - No! Focus. Flashcards. You fumble in your jacket pocket for your index cards.

Chemistry nomenclature, round fifty-six.

As you’re reviewing, you overhear the conversation proceeding next you with the cute guy and a girl. “Excuse me, is this seat taken?” The familiar words make you think of mere moments before when you were asking the same thing.

“It isn’t, but… you can’t sit there.”

Huh? 

“I’m sorry?” The girl seems to mirror your confusion.

“You can’t sit here. I’m sorry.”

“But someone else can?”

Your flashcards go ignored as you choose to eavesdrop on the full conversation. The man stalls, looking at the girl up and down. “... Yeah, maybe.”

Trying your best to not draw attention to yourself, you turn your head in slow, languid movements to look around. Was anyone else seeing this? Hearing this? Were you the next unsuspecting victim on an episode of What Would You Do? You were half expecting a game show host to step out and introduce himself at any moment. Y/N, you’ve just been Punk’d! 

Unfortunately (or fortunately, you couldn’t decide which scenario was better), no game show host steps out from behind a curtain, and it sinks in that this guy wasn’t joking. He was intent on not letting this girl sit next to him.

“Look,” the girl runs a hand through her hair, a habit of frustration, maybe. “I really need a place to sit and work on things, and this seat is open. That, and it’s a public space. So if you’ll excuse me-”

The young man easily lifts his backpack from his chair with one hand and places it in the open seat. “There. It’s taken now. Sorry.”

The girl’s eyes widen, and you can only imagine what your face looks like right now. You’re in just as much shock as she is. 

You scoff, and this time you don’t care if he hears. And he does: the stranger finally turns around in his seat to reveal an extremely attractive face. Chiseled jawline, deep brooding eyes, dimples even when he was scowling. You freeze and your breath hitches in your throat. It’s a shame he had to go and open his mouth.

“Excuse me,” you cut in sweetly, making a point to only make eye contact with the girl. “You can sit here. I’m about to leave.”

The girl’s eyes go wide at the addition of a third party. “Oh, no, you don’t have to! Thank you so much though.”

You shove your flashcards into your backpack and stand up from the seat. “No no, I insist, it’s fine. Besides, I didn’t want to sit there anymore.” Only then do you shoot a glare at the young man. “I couldn’t focus.”

Judging by the way the girl eyes the strawberry blond next to you, you think she doesn’t want to sit there anymore, either. Nevertheless, a seat was a seat. She thanks you profusely and you head out the doors and down the path to return to the dorms. 

Naturally your mind drifts back to the stranger. Who was he to have so much pride as to deny a seat to someone he didn’t know? A seat that wasn’t his, either? The thought that people like him exist irks you.

He was so good-looking, too, your subconscious proceeds to remind you. 

But alas, a jerk was a jerk, and at the end of the day you had far more important things to worry about than an indecent stranger whom you doubt you would see again. More important things such as -

Your phone rings with an alarm notifying you of your next scheduled event: Final Review B4 Exam! You sigh. Looks like it was back to the books (and flashcards) for you for the rest of the night.

It doesn’t hit you until you crash land into your desk chair: in your anger-fueled exit from the cafe, you had completely forgotten your barely touched vanilla latte sitting at the barstool counter. At this point you’re ready to tear your hair out at the roots. You’re five dollars and one fresh cup of caffeinated capitalism short for the night’s study session. You really hated it here.

If Megan were here, she would whip you into shape real fast, shouting at you that you’re a “Bad Bitch!” or some other expletive motivation that would comfort you. Except Megan isn’t here, attending some kind of club meeting, leaving you alone in the dorm. Another sigh escapes your lips and you tilt your head back to stare at the ceiling. 

Maybe, just maybe, you needed to follow through on this whole “getting emotionally laid” thing.

--

The midterm you had so diligently studied for was a success. Inorganic Chemistry A5 didn’t know what was coming when you rolled up with your beloved flashcards - all successfully completed, mind you - ready to fight. Needless to say you were able to enter the weekend with no qualms. You now had much needed time to recuperate and as Megan had said before, to “take a break” (among other things you were not going to address anytime soon). 

Some students recovered from the trauma of frequent exams via partying, deciding it was better to be under the influence in order to get over their academic standing. Some would meet up with their friends, maybe gossip about the latest episode of the hottest reality TV show. In your case, you decide to binge watch as many k-dramas as humanly possible. While you preferably do so in the comfort of your bed, tonight Megan has taken authoritative control over the dorm room. Meaning, she had a psychology midterm the following Monday and needed to be able to focus on nothing but the role of the amygdala without the OST of whatever drama you were watching in the background. You know for a fact if you were in the room minding your own business Megan would ultimately get distracted and join you in your k-drama marathon. Thus you are thrown to the streets with nothing but the clothes on your back and your belongings stuffed into your backpack.

You take extra care to avoid the puddles forming on the sidewalks, the result of on and off rain throughout the day. There are noticeably less people outside, and you have a feeling that any building you choose to house yourself in will be quite the opposite, likely packed with students. 

After milling about campus for a few minutes, you finally settle down in the Student Community Center - a fancy name for yet another building on campus where students could lounge about and study slash socialize. As predicted, there are significantly more people crowded in the lobby area of the two-story building. Your boots squeak against the tiled floor as you make your way down an inconspicuous hallway. Tile turns to carpeting when you step into an almost empty study room. Only a handful of people are present in the room, scattered across the tables and couches. No one ever bothered to check the rooms at the very ends of the hallways - only those more dedicated to being unbothered ever made it that far - and you were grateful for this as you settled down at one of the open couches.

Hotel Del Luna is the show of choice for the evening, and you cuddle up to the armrest of the couch as you press Play. You had watched this one before, having been forced to do so with Jungkook at its release. Curse him and his admiration for IU - some of the ghost scenes kept you up at night the weeks after watching. You much preferred the more lighthearted slice-of-life k-dramas, but following your phone call with Jungkook you were drawn to the darker show. Call it nostalgia, call it an attempt to relive the happy memories of the past, call it denial of reality, whatever.

You’re two hours into your binge watch when you notice an unfamiliar presence at your side. A boy, and a breathtaking one at that. When he had joined you, you’re not sure, but you catch him glancing at your laptop screen every so often. He doesn’t stick out too much, black hair hidden beneath a black baseball cap and similarly monotone attire with a black hoodie that was definitely way too big for him. Yet no amount of nondescript clothing could cover up his impeccable bone structure. This man had a jawline and a nose bridge that were to die for, and although you haven’t made eye contact with the stranger you’re already feeling self-conscious. There’s no way in hell you’re initiating any sort of interaction with him.

But there’s no need to worry, because the stranger does it for you.

You’re on episode three when there’s a gasp from beside you. “Lee Jun-Ki!” You crane your neck to see the stranger leaning over to watch your laptop screen. The work in front of him - whatever that mess of hieroglyphs and symbols was - is completely forgotten as he scoots closer. 

It’s not until you lean a bit away from him that he realizes his actions. “Oh, sorry. I kinda needed a break from studying or else I was gonna lose it.” His ears turn a bright pink as he explains himself. “Is it okay if I watch with you?”

“Uh…” Now that your full attention is on him, you give the stranger a proper glance-over. He was indeed studying, some sort of language of shapes and numbers that was foreign to you sprawled across his notebook in a variety of colors. Other than the all black attire (which was reasonable for college - wasn’t everyone attending their own funeral during exams season?), he didn’t look too shady… “Sure.”

“Sweet.” He extends a hand to you, pulling back the ginormous sleeve that threatens to hang over his fingers. “My name’s Jungwoo.”

You tentatively take his hand. “Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you Y/N. Are you a first year?”

You nod your head, and Jungwoo smiles. “Cool. Me too.” He moves back to his side of the couch, but quickly scoots back to sit directly beside you after he has shoved all of his work into his backpack. He settles beside you on the couch, slouching down similarly to you. “Alright, let’s do this.”

You crack a smile at the boy’s unabashed boldness. He immerses himself in the episode alongside you, clear adoration in his eyes whenever IU makes an appearance on screen. “You like IU, I take it?”

Jungwoo shakes his head. “Not half as much as one of my friends. He idolizes her. I just... look at her very respectfully.”

“Me too, actually,” you confess. “My friend forced me to watch with him. I usually watch happier things. My favorite is Weightlifting Fairy.”

Jungwoo’s eyes go wide. “I love Weightlifting Fairy!” His theatrical gasp attracts the attention of the few students nearby. This newfound information seems to make something click in Jungwoo’s head, because he wiggles all the more closer to you. “You’re quickly becoming my best friend, Y/N.”

“I’m a friend?” 

“Duh. This was established when you didn’t run away from me in fear when I was quite literally looking over your shoulder. And that’s happened before with other people. Twice.” He seems to feel the need to add in the last few details, much to your amusement. “Now shush. Lemme admire IU in peace.”

--

That interaction with Jungwoo is only the first of many, many more. While you’re the type to keep to yourself and not approach others, Jungwoo was the opposite. You’re only a bit surprised when he yells out your name from across the street a few days later, sprinting towards you with unbridled excitement on his face. The last time someone was that happy to see you was when your dog greeted you after returning home for the holidays.

“Good morning, Y/N! Where you headed? I have Material Sciences in an hour. I got time, so I’ll walk with you wherever you’re going!”

Much like your first encounter, you agree with some hesitance. Jungwoo seemed to not have a bad bone in his body, no ill intentions whatsoever. It was refreshing to be in the presence of someone who wasn’t already jaded by the world. 

As promised, Jungwoo walks with you to your destination, the coffeeshop, even waiting with you in the insufferably long line. You find out that Jungwoo is the same age as you, a Mechanical Engineering major, and is a part of some sort of club that allowed him to connect with upperclassmen of different majors but with similar interests.

“It’s called Nu Kappa Tau, everyone there’s really nice! I’ll bring you with me to the next social event.”

“Nu Kappa Tau?” You test out the syllables on your tongue. “Greek? Are you in... a fraternity?”

Your tone of voice insinuates something bad, and the way Jungwoo reacts quickly tells you he has a similar stance on the Greek life in college. That similar stance being that frat boys were vermin. “No, no no no no. It’s Greek, yes, but we are definitely not a fraternity. It’s more like… a social, cultural, and academic club?”

“Jungwoo. That’s exactly what a fraternity would say to make it seem like it’s not a fraternity.”

“Okay, but in this case we’re actually not a fraternity, I promise.” He tugs on your shirt sleeve and looks at you with pleading eyes. “You should come with me to the next event. It’ll be fun, and I’ll prove to you it’s not a fraternity. Please?”

You remain silent, eyes turning to the coffeshop’s menu. Even when your gaze is somewhere else you can sense the way Jungwoo is staring you down with those puppy dog eyes of his. This was what, the second time you were talking to him, and already he wanted to go to a social event with you? “I don’t know. You’re nice and all, but I’m not the type to warm up to people easily. I’ll have to hang out with you more first. No offense.”

Most people cower at your denials, retreat to more comfortable territory where there’s no fear of rejection. Jungwoo, however, beams at you. “None taken, Miss Y/N. You know why?” He pauses for dramatic effect, quirking an eyebrow in mischief. “Because that wasn’t a no.”

A few people in line crane their necks to peer at the two of you as a resonant smack rings out in the coffeeshop. 

“Ow - Y/N - Ow!” Jungwoo rubs at his upper arm. You know you didn’t hit him hard enough to elicit this sort of dramatic reaction, but it’s what he deserves. 

“You can’t use that logic, Jungwoo,” you scold, bag poised in the air ready for another attack. “The only means of consent is a yes. Say it with me. The only means of consent is a-”

“-Yes, yes, okay! I got it, I’m sorry. I sincerely apologize.”

--

Fast forward two weeks later, and you know Jungwoo a bit too well for your liking. Following your rejection of his offer, Jungwoo goes ahead and makes it a point to see you for at least an hour a day, weekends included, in order for you to “warm up to him.” Some days, it’s lunch shared in the cafeteria between classes. Other days it’s hours upon hours of studying together in the back of the library, you and Jungwoo taking shifts napping while the other crams for their classes. 

He forces - “heavily insists” - you to share your location with him on your phones, so it’s of no surprise to you when he starts showing up outside of your lecture halls after class. It’s when he’s walking you back from your last class of the day that you find that he lives a floor above you in the same building. Of course.

Dare you say it, it’s easy having Jungwoo in your life. He walks with you everywhere, always initiates conversation, and eats as many meals as possible with you - or as many as Megan allows. 

“Hey Y/N,” your roommate greets you with a warm smile which quickly turns into a steely glare when he acknowledges the young man standing by your side. “Ahem. Jungwoo.” 

If Jungwoo was a legitimate candidate for your mission of “getting laid,” Megan would be ecstatic. However, you explain to her that Jungwoo is nothing more than a friend, and suddenly Megan thinks he’s out to take her spot as Y/N’s Best Friend (insert trademark emoji here). 

“Megan, always a pleasure,” Jungwoo croons. If he’s perturbed by your roommate’s aloof greeting, he doesn’t show it, a smile growing on his face. Jungwoo turns to you. “See you at nine?”

You nod. “See you at nine. Bye.”

“Bye.” Jungwoo waves then walks down the hallway to the stairs. You wait until he’s out of sight to turn back to Megan, who has one eyebrow raised.

“What’s going on at nine?” She questions.

A defeated grin makes its way onto your lips. As much as you had been dreading what was to come, you couldn’t deny the excitement building up within you at the thought of something… new, for once in your life. “I’m going to my first party.”

--

Jungwoo, as promised, picks you up from your dorm room later that evening. He texts you an ominous message of i’m outside ur dorm lol for you to find him in the driver’s seat of a car far too expensive for any broke college student to own.

Hesitantly, you hop into the passenger seat and gingerly close the door. You’re not sure who he borrowed this from - or maybe it was a rental? - but you wanted to make sure you took no part in any damage fees he’d pay later. “I thought first years couldn’t have cars on campus.”

“I know. I’m a rule breaker, Y/N. I can’t be stopped… And maybe I borrowed it from a friend.”

Jungwoo insists on manning the aux, which you oblige to as you don’t trust your music taste to be liked by others. Something about the artist name Sergio Rachmaninov didn’t always hit well with the young folk these days. The queue starts up as he pulls out of the parking lot, a bass-boosted R&B song filling the expanse of the lush interior. 

“I’m going to warn you, this music queue is all over the place.” All over the place is correct, because after the R&B song finishes a ballad comes on, followed promptly by the song “Good Time” by Owl City. It’s a good song, a tolerable one, but after the second run, and third run, and even a fourth run you can’t help but wonder if the queue is glitching.

“Jungwoo.” He grunts in response. “Did you mean to put this song on loop?”

He shrugs. “What can I say? It helps me focus.”

You’re really questioning the sanity of the man behind the wheel.

Four and a half plays of “Good Time” (or fifteen minutes) later, you and Jungwoo arrive at your destination.

You audibly gulp. “Jungwoo. You are so in a frat.”

“No I’m not!” The man whines. “I swear!”

You and Jungwoo must not be looking at the same house, because the one you’re looking at is nothing less than a mansion: two stories, covering a wide expanse of vivid green lawn, with pillars on either side of the double-door front entry. Windows line the top and bottom floors, and hedges line the cobblestone walkway in the front. It looks like something out of a Southern period drama with the Victorian, colonial style architecture.

“You sure?” You can’t break your gaze away from the three enormous Greek letters placed above the entryway. “‘Cause no normal house emblazons the symbols of their group name across the front like that.”

As soon as you step foot in the door, you regret your decision to come. “Kim, I think I left something in the car-” 

You’re rudely interrupted by Jungwoo swinging an arm over your shoulder a bit too harshly. 

“Relax,” he reassures you. “My friends don’t bite. Only I do that.” You’re given no time to question that statement before he leads you further into the house.

If there’s one thing you can count on with Jungwoo, it’s his ability to socialize. It seems he knows everyone in the house, proven to you by the way he either nods his head or does a handshake with every individual present. He leads you to the kitchen where two guys are conversing, one looking like an overgrown man child and the other looking like… well, an actual child.

“Hey, look who finally decided to show up,” the much taller boy croons. “And he brought a friend.”

“Johnny, this is Y/N. Y/N, Johnny. He’s in his fourth year.” You shake hands with Johnny, who grins at you. He seems nice, other than the fact that he continues to stare at you through the duration of the handshake. Perplexed, you refuse to break his gaze.

Johnny is the first to look away, turning immediately to Jungwoo. “Oh, I like her. No one has yet to win my staring contest this year, other than you, Y/N. Congratulations.”

You force a laugh. “Thanks?”

Jungwoo steers you to the second boy, this one noticeably shorter - or was he still tall? Anyone standing next to Johnny seemed to be dwarfed in his presence - with dyed blond hair. He has a cap over his head and circle glasses, and you can’t help but think he looks awfully young to be at a frat-but-not-really house party.

“And this is Mark. He’s a fellow first year, but he’s our baby.” Jungwoo coos the last word, making Mark huff. Lowering his voice to a stage whisper, Jungwoo explains, “He was born in 1999, so we have a good year on him.”

You click your tongue. Ah, that explains why he looks so young. You deem Mark to be far more approachable than Johnny and shake the young boy’s hand eagerly.

“Where’s Peaches?” Jungwoo asks Johnny. The older boy shrugs. 

“I dunno. Not my problem.”

“Oh, I don’t think Jaehyun’s coming,” Mark cuts in. “Texted me saying something came up. Something about a paper due. Wait. Didn’t you take his car?” He points to Jungwoo, who shrugs with a look of Whoops, sorry on his face.

Johnny groans. “Oh, shoot. That’s right. We have a paper due tomorrow morning.” As quickly as the realization hits him, the worry is gone. “Eh. It’ll be fine.”

The three boys converse a bit longer, exchanging pleasantries and whatnot, before you and Jungwoo make your departure. The most that comes out of your mouth are feeble courtesy laughs and the occasional sarcastic quip to keep Jungwoo’s chaotic energy at bay. You wait until Jungwoo’s led you away to voice your thoughts. “What kind of name is Peaches?” You repeat.

“Right. One of the upperclassmen got the nickname because he smelled like them his first day of recruitment. Apparently he lives near a peach tree orchard or something. Therefore, he’s Peach Boy.”

You make a mental note of the phrase recruitment your friend uses. One day, you’ll compile a long enough list of evidence proving Nu Kappa Tau was a frat, and the word recruitment was one of them. “So what’s your nickname then?”

“Me? I’m not technically initiated yet,” - did this man use the word initiated? Yet another piece of evidence for the fraternity agenda - “but if I had to choose…” Jungwoo pauses and drums his fingers against his chin. “I’m Cheese Boy.”

You pause, letting his name sink in. The laughter bubbles up within you, threatening to spill out in a snort. It instead comes out as a strong exhale through your nose.

“Whatever, Cheese Boy,” you tease. “How much longer until I can go home?”

--

The next time you see the boys of Nu Kappa Tau is when Jungwoo drags you to yet another one of their events but a few days later. “This one’s right up your alley,” he insists. He also bribes you with the promise of buying your lunch, and the kabob food truck was on campus today, meaning you were eating well this afternoon. Making an appearance at his frat was but a small price to pay for your beloved meal of choice.

Jungwoo’s right - this event is up your alley, because you recognize the route he takes across campus. “The library?”

He nods. “NKT Study Hall.”

As you enter the building Jungwoo pulls you down an unfamiliar corridor then up a flight of stairs. An unspoken farewell is bid to your usual study spot by the second floor window as you continue up, up, up, until finally stopping at the fifth floor where no more stairs remain. You didn’t realize the library went up that high, and you probably frequented the building more than all of the boys combined - not that you knew any of the Kappa Tau boys yet.

Though they do look extremely threatening now that you’re standing in front of them.

Jungwoo brings you to stand in front of him. “Men and Mark Lee-” (“Hey!” Mark complains,) “-I introduce to you my partner in crime, Y/N.”

You give a feeble smile to the young men surrounding the table. You recognize a few of them from the party, Johnny and Mark being the only ones you can put a name to. The two wave to you and you feel a little more welcomed. Aside from the duo, everyone else is unfamiliar, giving you emotionless head nods and scowls.

“Y/N, you know Johnny and Mark, over there’s Lucas, and that’s Sicheng.” You nod at the two of them, who seem nice enough. The latter actually gives you a soft smile, so you consider that a win in your book. “And over at that table is Doyoung, Ten… You know what? I’ll just introduce you to everyone later. Have a seat.”

You trust your friend to guide you to the safest open seat, directly across from another empty chair at one end of the long table. Immediately you pull out your biology notebook and pens, hunkering down and getting to work without further notice. If you couldn’t feel welcomed by the boys at the table, you could at least get some decent studying done. You felt far more familiar with the speciation concepts in front of you than the actual human beings next to you. You allow your head to burrow itself closer to your notebook, dwelling in this small comfort in an environment of unfamiliarities.

The moment of peace doesn’t last long.

“Peaches!” Johnny’s bellowing voice makes you jump in your seat, your beloved biology notes neglected.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” Huh. You’ve heard that voice before. You can’t place where you know it from, but it causes a sneer to form on your face. Glancing up from your notes you can’t help the strangled gasp that leaves your lips.

It’s him. You’d recognize that faded pink hair and smugly complacent upturn of lips anywhere. That, and he’s holding a coffee cup that violently catapults you back to the incident from a few weeks ago in the coffee shop. You left your perfectly good vanilla latte behind because he made you mad, that jerk.

“Oh, Jaehyun.” Jungwoo leads the man to the open seat across from you. Pointing to you, he says, “This is Peaches - I mean, Jaehyun. Jaehyun, this is-”

“-Y/N, right?” Jaehyun interrupts with a grin. You lower your eyes at the dimple that forms when he smiles. “I believe we’ve met before.”

Jungwoo looks from your displeased state to Jaehyun’s smug smirk. “Uh, okay. Cool. Well then. I’m gonna go ahead and grab lunch, I’ll be right back.” You watch as Jungwoo beckons Johnny and Mark to join him, the only three familiar faces present at the table now leaving.

Jaehyun leans back in his chair, arms moving to rest behind his head. “Looks like it’s just the two of us.”

You weigh your options. You could recognize that the two of you have indeed met before, and try to get past your differences. Or, you could refuse to acknowledge Jaehyun’s presence a mere few feet across from you at the table and try your best to study until Jungwoo returned with your food, at which point you would then flee the scene as fast as your non-athlete self could. Only one of these outcomes enticed you, and it wasn’t the one that involved talking. 

“So, Y/N,” Jaehyun leans forward. The width of the table is enough to keep him at a safe distance from you, yet he’s still close enough to invade your personal space somehow. It’s suffocating, how whatever musky cologne he’s wearing wafts over to you - he smells nothing like peaches. “How’s your day been?”

“Fine.” You keep your eyes glued to your biology notes. Allopatric Speciation occurs when two populations of the same species become isolated from one another due to-

“Aw, just fine? That’s it?” His voice is low. With Jungwoo, Johnny, and Mark out getting food, you’ve been isolated at one end of the table with Jaehyun. Lucas and Sicheng are present as well, but both seem to be deeply immersed in their own studies. It’s just the two of you.

“Yep.” Allopatric Speciation occurs when two populations of the same species-

“C’mon, I’m sure someone like you has had at least one interesting thing happen today.”

Allopatric Speciation occurs when - Someone like you? What was that supposed to mean? You sigh, but refuse to look up from your notes. Allopatric Speciation-

“Are you a first year? I took that class last year. If you ever want notes or something-” Jaehyun jumps a little when you slam the notebook shut. Good. Serves him right.

“I don’t like you, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun tilts his head, a smirk tugging at the end of his lips. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough.”

He leans in by resting his forearms on the table, leveling his gaze with yours. “I don’t think you do.”

“You know what I think? I think you’re distracting me.”

Jungwoo comes back at the most opportune time, wielding a kabob skewer in each hand - one untouched and the other halfway eaten. “One chicken kabob for Y/N.”

Deeming the conversation with Jaehyun at its end, you stand up from your seat and grab your backpack from the table. Jaehyun fixes you with an intense gaze but remains silent. Whether he was sizing you up or not you didn’t care.

The tension is palpable at the table, and Jungwoo clears his throat. “Did I interrupt something?” 

“No,” you respond quickly. Grabbing your food from Jungwoo, you give him an apologetic smile. “Something came up. I gotta go. Sorry, Kim. See you tomorrow?”

You despise this man. You don’t even know Jaehyun - he is nothing but a familiar stranger - but you despise him. Him and his ethereal appearance. Why were the terrible ones always the ones blessed with above average looks? Why’d he have to open his mouth?

“Wait.” You do not, in fact, wait, but instead continue marching forward. It’s not until the figure stands right in front of you do you stop. It’s Jaehyun. Holding your biology notebook in the air. “Don’t want to leave anything behind. Like last time, right?”

The last few words out of his mouth have your blood boiling and your fists clenching at your sides. That explained the foreign lightness of the bag on your shoulder.

“Oh, right, the vanilla latte.” You fake a cordial laugh. “You mean the time I was so desperate to get away from your insufferable presence that I left behind a perfectly good coffee? The time when you treated that girl as if she wasn’t a human being? That time you couldn’t be a decent enough human being that you were that disrespectful to someone you didn’t even know?” 

Jaehyun stands before you with an astonished smile and a hand frozen in the air. You pluck the notebook out of his grasp and stride away before he has a chance to respond.

“I’ll see you around, Y/N,” Jaehyun calls.

“I’ll see you around my ass,” you mutter under your breath. You’re willing to go out of your way to avoid interactions with Jaehyun, no matter what it takes.

a/n 2: hope you enjoyed part one of this series! it’s been a while since i last posted a fic on here so i apologize for my rusty writing skills. part 2 is projected to be posted in one week from now, but that’s tentative. we’ll see where life takes me and if i have the capacity to post in a week from now. in the meantime: stay safe! 💕

[lovecinnatwist]

Secret Santa for @Carxby

This Christmas I ended up writing a small drabble for my wonderful giftee Carxby. I’m a huge HaruMiha fan so I was so excited to get this prompt!

I hope you like this short little drabble!

Fandom: Ōkiku Furikabutte

Pairing: Haruna/Mihashi, Abe/Mihashi (one sided)

Rating: PG

Haruna doesn’t understand it- the tightness in his chest when he sees the two of them together. It takes time, something that he finds more of as he lies awake long after everyone else is sleeping. He stares up at his ceiling, blinking away racing thoughts and stirring feelings that are like a hurricane in his throat. A storm of words wants to get out, cold and harsh, threatening to flood all who stand in the splash zone. His body is aching from practice, his brain tired from a long day of lessons. Still somehow sleep can not find him. It goes on for weeks until self awareness slams into him like a truck.

Jealousy.

He remembers the casual way Takaya touches his new pitcher. It stirs something ugly inside of him. It’s casual, it’s friendly, it’s expected. After all, a battery is better when the two people are close. Not like how he and Takaya were, more like how he is with his new pitcher. The tall, gangly teen whose limbs look too long and awkward for his body. He looks at Takaya like he’s the moon and when Takaya looks at Mihashi, well it's like he sees stars.

The sheer awe in those huge hazel eyes is so clear that it’s sickening. Mihashi likes Takaya, more than just a pitcher and more than just a friend. No matter what Haruna tries to do to silence the little voice in his head, he can’t stop it from screaming in outrage. 

Well who could blame him for being possessive over the catcher he created? 

The next time he sees the blonde turn red under Takaya’s attention he knows to expect the rush of anger and jealousy. Being prepared helps and makes things easier. Well at least for a short while. Nishiura isn’t a team they run into often. They're more like passing ships really. Their games are far apart but not so much so that he has free time to go see them play. 

The next time he runs into Takaya there’s a girl across from him. They’re holding hands with their fingers laced together. Haruna waits for the familiar barrage of emotions. The hard punch to the gut which is envy, quickly followed by her twin, wrath.

Nothing happens.

He stares after their figures long after they’ve walked past him. Neither of the two spotting him from his position on the corner walk way. Takaya looks different, older, more mature. It’s only natural for him to find a girlfriend. For him to start a relationship. A feeling of unease swirls in his stomach and he thinks of strawberry blonde curls and an open honest smile. 

No longer able to hear their footsteps he heads in the opposite direction.

He isn’t looking for anything in particular. The air is crisp and clean and the sound of people enjoying the winter air is a perfect ambience for a day like this. The perfect backdrop for a date too. He wonders if the catcher is on his first one, or if this is one of many. He flexes his fingers in his pocket remembering the way Takaya had his hands locked with the girls. He himself has held hands before of course- but most girls complained. The roughness was attractive in theory but never later on actual dates. Did the catchers mitt keep Takaya hands soft and more pleasant?

He’s broken out of his thoughts by the sound of warbling in the distance. It’s demanding and loud enough to pull him out of his head and into the moment. Ahead he spots some poor guy being bullied by the ducks at the pond. The small little birds are quacking and chasing the guy until he’s scared enough to drop the bag of crumbs. He’s speeding up before he can help himself. The person falls to the ground and the ducks, distracted by their new bounty, do not pursue.

He doesn’t recognize him until they are mere feet away. 

Mihashi’s face is blotchy and red from unshed tears. His form trembles, probably from the scare the mother duck gave him. Haruna’s heart races. There’s a rush of- something that he can’t pin down. He should hang back and think, give himself a moment to understand the way his stomach is twisting into knots. He knows that he needs to. But his feet don’t seem to get the memo. He’s walking over to him before he can think better of it. 

When Mihashi finally notices him he turns and those breathtaking hazel green eyes are looking at him. Haruna’s heart leaps in his throat. His mouth goes dry with the amount of moisture heading to his palms. He’s stupidly speechless as he looks at the other pitcher in his winter clothes. The brown coat fits well with a belt that wraps tightly around the waist. His scarf looks soft to the touch much like the windswept locks that are sticking up every which way, his ear muffs do little to flatten them down. 

He swallows but the lump in his throat doesn’t go away. 

“ Ha-Haruna? “

He feels fixed into place. The sheer clearness of Mihashi’s gaze, even from a distance, is too much. He stands awkwardly, the sound of the ducks quacking gleefully at the other pitchers back is the only thing filling the silence. Haruna opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He has nothing to say but turns out the younger boy does. 

“ Did- Did you run into Takaya? “

It’s a loaded question. At the mention of the catchers first name something ugly curls inside of him. He doesn’t know when the two got so close. Never before has he heard them be so casual with each other. He’s familiar enough with the jealousy to look outside of it and take in the pitchers expression and body language again. Suddenly Haruna has the feeling that the other’s tear damp eyes have nothing to do with the ducks at all. He doesn’t answer, at least not immediately. 

Mihashi doesn’t move to get up from the ground. He just waits and stares. Haruna finds it unnerving how much those eyes seem to search. 

Finally, reluctantly he shrugs. There’s no point in lying. 

“ Yea- I saw him. He looked busy though so I didn’t bother him. “

Mihashi doesn’t say anything, just looks away down at the ground. His figure seems to shrink on itself more than usual. The broken silhouette makes Haruna’s chest tighten. 

“ Where did you get the feed from?“

He doesn’t know where the thought comes from. He just can’t bear to see the other pitcher so defeated for another moment. It works, slightly- just enough to straighten his back and get his attention. Haruna averts his eyes suddenly feeling shy; Not that Mihashi notices of course. 

“ From the booth over there. “ He points a little too quickly and some of the few ducks picking about are quick to flap on the defensive. Haruna pushes forward to close the distance between them. He gets a firm grip on the pitcher’s jacket and hauls him up and away from the birds. They get closer and the tightness in his stomach bursts into flutters. 

He feels nauseous and sick at the same time. He stares into gorgeous hazel eyes. Then quickly becomes stressed when he realizes he’s used the word gorgeous to acknowledge them.

He suddenly takes notice of how cute the freckles that dust the pitchers nose and cheeks are. The way his in awe gapping expression leaves his pink lips parted and every time he blinks long eyelashes touch his cheeks and then his eyebrows. 

It’s a long time coming for him to realize that what he’s feeling is attraction. Not hot and possessive like he’s felt before, but softer, innocent and curious in many ways that he’s uncomfortable with. 

For some unknown reason- he likes this guy. 

Mihashi doesn’t say anything but a pink blush spreads on his face. He’s become more flustered by the moment, and Haruna in his new found awkwardness lets him go startled. They break eye contact quickly. Haruna tongue tied by his epiphany. 

“ So- Sorry “

Haruna has no clue why Mihashi is apologizing. If anything he should be the one to do so. That is if suddenly having feelings for a rival pitcher warrants an apology. He tries to play the entire thing off, which is difficult with the way Mihashi keeps sneaking these timid little glances his way. 

“S’cool. “

Before he can beat himself for his stupid answer Mihashi cuts him off. 

“ Do you want a bag of crumbs? “

Not really but he also isn’t quite ready to leave. He needs to talk to Mihashi a little bit more. It’s a rare opportunity and might be his only chance to decipher the quivering mess his emotions are becoming. 

“ Yea. Yea I do. “

The smile he gets from Mihashi makes his embarrassment more than worth it. Confidently, the pitcher leads him over to the booth where he willingly pays for two bags of feed. This time, when the two of them head back to the group of ducks no shenanigans take place. 

The birds seem to know better than to try to bully him like they did to Mihashi. 

Haruna snorts when the shorter pitcher hides behind him as the ducks draw closer. It takes time, several awkward attempts but soon Mihashi’s fear is swept away for active participation. He’s bold enough to stand shoulder to shoulder as he drops handfuls of feed for the ducks. All while making happy little laughs whenever they go for the food.

They bump shoulders. 

It’s a lot, more than he’s ready for. Complaints die on his lips though as he sees the other boy smile. 

He asks, despite a large part of him telling him not too.

“ Are you happy for him? “

He thinks he whispers it but the pitchers eyes snap to his immediately. Haruna’s breath hitches and his pulse races in his ears. A conflicted barrage passes over Mihashi’s face. His eyes darting about as they search for an answer. 

Haruna doesn’t want to hear it. He wishes he could take back the words. Why didn’t he heed his own intuition for once? His new, fragile affection is too vulnerable for the answer.

Loudly his ego roars in his ears. It would be better to know now then to be left wondering. To be left wanting someone who clearly likes someone else.

As both his intuition and ego war, Haruna gets his answer despite his unpreparedness. 

“ If Takaya is happy, I’m happy. “

It’s a messy answer but he can read between the lines enough to understand what he’s saying. However Haruna himself has always been a selfish person. He doesn’t know if he would have it within himself to be happy if Mihashi and Takaya got together. He rolls his shoulders back as a shiver goes down his spine.

It’s the first time he’s acknowledged these new feelings for what they are. The long developing signs of a crush. He pays a compliment before he can stop himself.

“ You’re a strong person. “

The pitcher's attention snaps to him so quickly he’s almost afraid Mihashi has hurt something. 

“ Me?”

The wonder in those hazel eyes is strong enough that Haruna feels like he’s burning. He’s pretty sure he’s red to his ears. Hopefully the other boy thinks it’s because of the weather and not because of anything else. 

He doesn’t follow up and just tosses more crumbs at the ducks. This time far enough that they race to the edge of the pond. They trip over each other and it’s a welcome distraction. 

The silence between them kind of puts Haruna on edge.

“ You’re a nice person Haruna. “

It’s not the first time he’s heard the pitcher say it. In fact he’s pretty sure compliments have always freely come from Mihahsi. This time however it sends a very real hum of happiness thrums through him. Probably because this isn’t a compliment from Nishiura’s pitcher- but from the guy he likes. 

His heart skips a beat at the thought. 

“ You’re a pretty good person too Mihashi. “

He’s riding so high on the compliment he almost misses the murmur that falls from Mihashi’s lips. He turns to look at him and finds his eyes to the ground. He’s so shy and cute Haruna wishes he could touch him. Instead he distracts himself with the crumbs. 

“ What? “

Mihashi squirms under the attention. 

“ R-Ren you can call me Ren. “

It shouldn't make him so happy. It shouldn’t make his heart soar. But it does and he’s so full that he might just say or do something embarrassing. He looks anywhere else but at this completely adorably awkward boy at his side. 

“ You can call me Motoki then. “

The protest that comes from the pitcher is equal parts cute and frustrating. Despite his resistance so far he can’t help grabbing him to stop the barrage of excuses. 

“ Miha- “ He has to stop to correct himself. “ I want you to Ren. “

Haruna is sure he’s going to remember the pretty color the other boy turns for the rest of his life. He doesn’t understand the noises he makes, nor his expression but when he gets the little nod. It feels like a win. 

He doesn’t realize he’s holding Mihashi’s hand until the younger boy looks down at their fingers. This time Haruna’s the one to blush. He immediately lets go and takes several steps back. Mihashi does a little half laugh that he quickly hides behind his crumb covered fingers.

It feels like… something. He can’t quite pin it down but the warmth in his chest spread through him and the cold winter day is a little less chilly. He can’t bring himself to look at Mihashi- no. Ren, he can’t bring himself to look at Ren. Mostly because he’s just so full of warmth he thinks it might spill out. It isn’t something he’s ready for or the other pitcher he’s sure. After all Ren for all of his kindness needs time to process his own feelings about Takaya. It’s something he himself can understand.

They stay at the pond long after their brown bags are empty and the ducks have swum off. They throw away their trash and make their separate ways all while Haruna avoids eye contact. He doesn’t get Ren’s phone number but he’s sure- later at a better time he will. 

He walks home alone and a hundred moments flicker through his head. Things he could have done, things he should have done and more than anything things that happened. He’s through his door when he realizes the familiar jealously hadn’t been directed at Mihashi but in fact at Takaya. 

He chuckles to himself and slides his gloves off. When his eyes catch the familiar groves and texture of his callouses he pauses. Ren’s hands are probably the same- if not rougher than his. A small shy smile plays across his lips. In fact, A fellow pitcher would probably think his hand feels pretty good.

[haydnfleury]

See The Fire In Your Eyes

Who: Leon Draisaitl, Connor McDavid

Type: Fluff

Word Count: 1.6K

Addendum A: Title is a lyric from the song Mountain Hymn by Rhiannon Giddens.

Addendum B: This is the more edited version of the original work I had posted.

~AO3 Version

Tagging: @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69​ | @jamesnealshands​

He tries to catch his breath, thinking did that actually just happen? Sure he really liked his teammate, but he never actually did anything because he didn’t think it was ever mutual. He only knew for certain that they were good friends for the longest time, Leon hadn't given any hints or anything obvious that he liked him more than just a friend.

 Its game day, the Oilers are set to play in Vegas against the Knights. All of them except for Leon. He sustained a shoulder injury whilst playing for the German national team in the IIHF Worlds and hasn’t been cleared for full-contact play in the NHL yet. He still shows up to the games and sits on the bench with the rest of the team during warm ups before retiring to the upper suites; he's just in a suit rather than uniform. “It’s good for Leon’s morale that he tags along,” coaching staff have said.

 The team makes their way out of the locker room and onto the ice for warm ups. As Connor practices shooting pucks into the net and tossing the occasional one to a fan against the glass, the thought occurs to him that Leon isn’t there to skate circles around him like he always had. It’s a small detail, granted, but he liked it, and it hasn’t happened in any of the seven regular season games they’ve played. He glances over at the bench; Leon’s sitting on the bench half paying attention to and talking with the coaching staff, and half just looking at his phone. Connor also notices that the suit he’s wearing seems fairly tight. He doesn’t give it much thought because the second after he crashes into Nuge, neither of which were paying attention as to where they were skating. They exchange apologies and move on with practice.

 The game was an absolute thrashing. Edmonton won 6-0 continuing their undefeated start to the season to seven games now. The team pours back into the locker room as the coaching staff mention that they’ll be staying in Las Vegas for a few more days as a reward to them for playing so well- and not to mention the fact that their next game is five days away anyway. There’s chatter among the players that there’s a German beer häus- Hofbrauhäus- in the city and they decide to go there to celebrate.

 They arrive and are greeted by the traditional Bavarian atmosphere and the aromas of various different ales and lagers. The team sits down at a long communal table and order copious amounts of food and drink. Within five minutes Larsson is already challenging anyone from the team who's willing to a drinking contest, of which Neal happily obliges him. Connor is one of the few who decided to stay mostly sober, stopping at two drinks and eating plenty of food. Leon on the other hand, is on his sixth or seventh- Connor kinda lost count at some point, as every time he looked his mug was full again- drink before he’s even tipsy whereas most of the others were there at three or four.

 As the festivities come to a close the team manages to stumble their way out of the building, and attempt to walk over to where the team bus was parked. Leon follows closely behind Connor, but as they make it out the doors Leon loses his footing on the cobblestones and falls against the wall. He lifts his arms up in the universal “heellpp meee” as Connor lifts him up off the ground and steadies him on himself so they don’t both fall over. Leon rests his head in the crook of Connor’s neck and wraps one arm around the other side of his neck and the other around his waist the entire way back to their hotel room; which prompts Connor to internally scream “This is fine, this is f-fine, THIS IS FINE.” He was glad everyone else had been drinking because he was certain his entire face was bright red, except for him it wasn't because of the booze.

 Arriving at the hotel everyone spills out into their designated rooms. Connor helps Leon onto a chair and falls onto one of the beds himself. Scrolling through the different social medias, he decides to check the posts they’ve been tagged in- almost certain that someone at the beer häus had recorded and posted their shenanigans. Yet nothing. Except, for one post that stood out that was during the game. Some fan had seen Leon in one of the upper suites and took a picture. But Connor noticed something that no-one else seems to have so far. In the blurred resolution Leons’s blazer and shirt were undone and an Oilers jersey could be seen, but with a half-covered ‘C’ instead of an ‘A’ peeking out from the formal wear. Looking back and forth between the phone and his teammate sitting just across the room, it’s still the same suit. Getting back up he walks over and looks down at him. Gingerly, he lifts the blazer and shirt to see the jersey underneath but still can’t tell if it’s his from this angle. The fabric lightly shifts and he jerks backwards out of sight. Leon slowly gets up, not noticing his teammate lightly panicking in the corner from almost being caught, and starts to drunkenly undress himself. Once again Connor’s face burns because he’s never actually seen him undress at a hotel, they typically do it in different rooms and leave a t-shirt and underwear on, but he strips down to just his black underwear and crashes back-first onto the bed.

 “He seems like he's out cold, I hope,” is Connor’s internal logic, and goes to the pile of ditched clothes on the chair to dig out the jersey. Sure enough, the front does in fact have a ‘C’ on it, and turning it around the large 97 and MCDAVID staring right back at him. Putting it back down he’s suddenly grasped by the arms and pulled back onto the bed, Leon planking on top of him. Before he could even say anything Leon lowers his head and brings Connor into a long kiss. A million panicked thoughts blink through Connor's head before melting away as he lets the kiss continue. But just as soon as he started he stops, just gazing back at Connor. Connor does the same, and realizes how his eyes look and have a certain glint to them whenever he looks at him. Leon falls to the side of him on the bed and he’s out cold- fully this time- which lets Connor get up and rush to the bathroom.

 He tries to catch his breath, thinking did that actually just happen? Sure he really liked his teammate, but he never actually did anything because he didn’t think it was ever mutual. He only knew for certain that they were good friends for the longest time, Leon hadn't given any hints or anything obvious that he liked him more than just a friend. Or, maybe it was the drink? He had a lot but he's also one of the people that can really hold their liqour. There’s really no way to know when the person is inebriated. Splashing some water onto his burning hot face and sighing, at this point Connor decides he might as well just get ready to sleep and figure it out in the morning. After finishing up in the bathroom, he comes back into the bedroom and stops at the foot of Leon’s bed. He’s uncovered. Rather than try to lift him up and pull the sheets out and over him, Connor pulls the sheets out from the opposite end of the bed and lays it over him, and then crashes into the other unoccupied one himself.

 Morning rolls around, and by the time Connor gets up Leon is still snoozing- he typically doesn’t ever get hungover, but just tends to sleeps longer. Connor does his usual morning routine, and then starts cooking breakfast in the small kitchen; eggs, sausage, and hash browns. As the smell wafts from the various pans, Leon shifts out of bed wiping the sleep from his eyes.

 “Hey.”

 “Hey. Just started breakfast, you probably have time to shower real quick if you want to.”

 “Alright.”

 He doesn’t seem to remember what happened last night, let alone notice he’s not wearing a shirt. Great. Leon walks out from his shower and Connor already has breakfast on the table. He stops in his tracks though when he spots the jersey still quite obviously out in the open on the chair next to his other clothes.

 “Uh, you saw that didn’t you.”

 “Yeah. What do you actually remember from last night anyway?”

 “We drank. A lot. Not really much after that. Actually one thing, Klef had to help Lars onto the bus because he collapsed trying to get up the stairs.”

 “Nothing else?”

 “No.”

 Connor pauses and scratches the back of his head debating whether or not to say anything as Leon sits down next to him.

 “Y-, you uh, kissed me.”

 Leon nearly chokes on his coffee.

 “FUCK- I am so fucking sorry- I- I don’t even rememb--“

 “Stop.”

 He drops to a dead silence.

 “Do you like me? You know, that way.”

 Leon sighs deeply, “I mean, I’ve liked you since I met you.”

 Connor pulls Leon’s chair out towards him and leans forward to kiss him. Leon doesn’t pull away and lets Connor effectively climb on top of him into an embrace. They pull away and gaze into each other’s eyes, and caressing the other’s cheek before making out. When they stop they return back to their chairs and food. Connor puts his hand on top of Leon’s.

 “I love you.”

 Connor suddenly realizes what he just said.

 “Wait, is that too soon?”

 Leon smirks before laughing uncontrollably.

 “Connor, I’ve liked you for four years,” he pauses to catch his breath, “you could’ve told me that at year one if you wanted to.”

 They both laugh.

 “I love you too.”

[13-reasons-ideas]

The Difference of Influence

A/N: Please see my previous post for an explanation. This may become a multi-part idea if I get enough good feedback. 

Ugh, I hate rich kid parties. I hate the people and the way everyone shows off what cool shit they bought just because. And the gossip. I hate how everyone tries to one up each other in regards to whose parents have more money or prestige. So far tonight my “friends” have come to the conclusion that my parents are basically royalty-today anyway.

 Just because my dad is a lawyer who went to Dartmouth for his undergrad and Yale for law school, and my mom went to Harvard for both her undergraduate degree and medical school, doesn’t mean I’m spoiled or destined for the US Presidency or whatever people think this week. The fact that they both graduated top of their classes doesn’t mean shit either. My parents taught me how to work hard. My mom went to Harvard on a full-ride scholarship and paid her way through medical school. My dad started working 30 hours a week and balancing work with school when he was 16 so he could afford to go to an ivy league school. Unlike some people here, they didn’t have things handed to them. So as a result, neither do I. Do I have more opportunities because of their income? Yes. Do I work my ass off for what I have? Yes, absolutely.

I was beginning to grow tired of the drunken shenanigans of my so-called friends so I picked up my cup of cranberry juice and decided to see if I could track someone more interesting down. Or find Winston, since he was the one who made me come to this stupid party. I had seen Bryce Walker dragging a very unhappy looking Montgomery de la Cruz along with him earlier. The young man seemed almost as uncomfortable as I felt. I figured I could keep him company and we could talk about what was going on between us.

Monty and I are not exactly what I would call friends, but we have an understanding. He comes over to my place sometimes when things get rough at home and I’ll meet him after practice or something at the docks and we talk or work on homework. We don’t talk about what goes on at home, though not for lack of trying on my part. I’ve offered to be an ear to listen or a shoulder to cry on. I’ve offered to either help him tell my mom or tell her myself, because she is a mandatory reporter. I’ve asked my dad the legalities and process that would result with accusations of alleged domestic violence as he put it, and tried explaining the process to Montgomery, but he wouldn’t hear any of it. As much as I would love to make him come forward, I know I can’t. The boy was terrified, though he tried to hide it. I gave up on bringing the subject after we had a blow-up fight about it at the docks one day. We didn’t talk for three days after that fight. In that time, he had snapped a bit. It became obvious to me that his friends had never really pushed the issue of his dad with him. In those few days, Monty had given Tyler a harder time than usual, argued with Coach Rick, yelled at Bryce, and on the last day of our silence, come to school with a black eye and a broken arm. When I saw that, I couldn’t let him continue to avoid me. I knew he had practice that day, and he had to attend regardless of his arm, so I made a run to Monet’s after school. I waited for him at his Jeep and after some coaxing and bribing with muffins, we drove to the docks and apologized. Our friendship went back to normal after that. I agreed to drop the subject and he agreed that if he ever wanted to talk about it, then he would.

I spotted Bryce talking to some boys from Hillcrest and nodded at him when he made eye contact with me. As much as I hate the guy, my parents taught me to be polite to people, even if the person was an evil little worm. I scanned the living room but didn’t spot Monty anywhere, but that wasn’t too concerning. Hes not attached to Bryce’s hip or anything, though Clay would beg to differ. I also couldn’t find Winston in the crowd. Figuring he would be in his room taking a breather, I made my way upstairs to crash his solo party. Everyone knew that Winston’s room and his parents’ room were off limits at these parties so I figured he would be alone. I didn’t think twice about the closed door because he is my best friend. We had seen each other in various states of dress before and I figured he was trying to avoid whoever decided to complain about the free pizza taking too long to arrive. I expected to find him reading or drawing. However, I did not expect to open the door and find Montgomery standing in front of my best friend with his pants around his ankles. Or Winston to be on his knees. I quickly covered my eyes and turned bright red as I gasped, trying to give them privacy. I would have walked out of the room but I was frozen. I peeked between my fingers as Monty whipped his head up and shouted a quick “fuck.” He pushed Winston away but kept him close enough to cover himself.

“Oh shit. I’m so sorry. I thought… well not this. I just wanted to get away from all the people.” I exclaimed, embarrassed to have interrupted them. Monty let out a breath when he realized it was only me and Winston turned to look at me, his face also red.

“(Y/N)!” Winston exclaimed.

“I’m sorry. I’ll just go chill in your parents room.” I nodded at them and turned to leave. Before closing the door, I added “if this goes any further, use protection my dudes. As you were.” I smiled as I left the room, firmly shutting the door behind me. I spent the rest of the night holed up in the master bedroom.

I heard a commotion outside but figured it was just some drunken idiots playfighting. It wasn’t until Martha, one of Winston’s classmates came running into the room did I grow concerned. “(Y/N), you-“she paused to catch her breath. “You need to come quick. Its Winston. Bryce’s friend…. You just… you need to come outside.” She said quickly. I immediately knew that the commotion was much more than drunken stupidity. Jumping from the bed, I bolted down the stairs and saw Bryce and some other guy I recognised but didn’t know, pulling Monty off of my best friend. Monty was fighting Bryce’s grip on him and for the second time that night, I was frozen. Winston groaning pulled me out of my shock. I jumped back into action and saw the blood on his face. I directed Martha to pull him up because I knew she was doing an advanced health class of some kind. I looked at Winston’s face but couldn’t stop myself from turning to Bryce as he tried to talk some sense into Monty. Winston nodded at me that he was okay and I marched over to Bryce and Monty.

“Bryce, I’ve got him.” I tried to cut in. Bryce continued to berate Monty and ignored me. “Walker. Back off. I’ve got him.” I said again, louder and placed my hand on his shoulder. I pulled him back when he ignored me again. “Walker, I swear to God. Let go. I have him.” Finally, he turned to look at me. Monty looked at me as well and I saw fear cross his eyes briefly. He thought I was going to tell Bryce.

“What?” Bryce asked, gruffly.

“I. Have. Monty. Go talk to Winston.” I told him, leaving no room for argument. Bryce let go of Monty and begrudgingly went to talk to Winston. I stepped in front of Monty and grabbed his wrist when he tried to walk away. The shock at my action made him look at me. “You’re staying here. Stand right here and I’m going to go try and fix this. He is my best friend. Bryce is going to fuck this up more, but I should be able to keep your ass out of jail tonight. You are coming home with me. We will discuss this when we get to my place. Lucky for us, my parents are out of town.” I told him and watched as he sat against the bumper of Bryce’s Range Rover.

I walked over to Winston as I heard Bryce trying to “fix” the problem. “No one has to call the cops. Here’s two grand, I’ll give you three more tomorrow.” He offered Winston the cash as I cleared my throat.

“Are you fucking serious Bryce? Bribery? That’s your solution to your friend beating the crap out of him?” I cut in. Bryce looked at me and rolled his eyes.

“Look, hes fucked up. He gets beat at home and shit.” Bryce explained, as if it was the most natural fucking thing in the world. I felt my blood begin to boil at his comment.

“You know what Walker, fuck off.” I said through clenched teeth. “Let me handle this. He’s my best friend.” Bryce seemed surprised at my aggressive tone.

“Okay, I’ll get Monty home then.” He said.

“No. No you will not.” I told him. He seemed confused. “Just go wait with him while I clear this up. Do not take him anywhere.” Bryce nodded, realizing that I had learned a thing or two about arguing from my dad. He rushed back to his car and waited with Monty. “Alright, show’s over. Everyone clear out.” I called. When no one moved I added, “Now.” Roughly. People began to scatter back in the house and, like good little rich kids, pretended they hadn’t seen anything. They knew that if the cops got called, it would only add suspicion to their activities over the evening. “Are you okay Winston? What happened?”

“I’m okay. I don’t know. I said hey to him and he just… lost it. Walker and Darby pulled him off me as you came down. Was Bryce serious? About what happens at home?” He asked, a concerned look crossing his face. I hesitated. “(Y/N).”

“Y-yes. His uh… his dad is… well. He’s a shit excuse for a parent.” I explained.

“And you’re… friends? With him?” He continued.

“I wouldn’t say friends exactly? We never really defined what it is that we have. We just… talk about stuff. I’ve tried to get him to talk to someone, but you know I can’t force him to talk.” I told him. “Look, Monty is complicated. He has a lot of feelings he doesn’t know how to explain. What I walked in on tonight… I don’t think he had ever entertained those feelings before.”

“Okay. You seem to know him. What do you think just happened?”

“I think he is scared. I’m not trying to excuse his behaviour, but I think what happened earlier made him confront feelings he has had for a long time and I think he reverted back to what he knows how to feel. He knows how to feel angry. He knows how to inflict pain. He knows how to make people feel how he feels. I think he has had too much to drink and he needs to go sleep it off.” I explained, hoping Winston would understand. He deliberated for a moment and nodded.

“If he goes home with you, then I won’t press charges. I don’t need cops sniffing around a party. Tell Walker I’m keeping the money for insurance against asking what happened. I don’t want Bryce asking questions if Monty wants to keep this quiet.” I nodded and sat down to hug him softly.

I left Winston on the steps and walked back to Bryce and Montgomery. I turned my attention to Bryce. “It’s been taken care of. He’s keeping the money. You don’t ask questions about this. You don’t talk about this. As far as you’re concerned, this didn’t happen. How you explain being out two grand in one night is up to you. You’re going to get in the car and you are going to drive home. I will take Montgomery home and I will deal with this. You have helped enough tonight.” Bryce did not argue with me as he motioned for me to take over a now slightly calmer Montgomery. I took his arm and felt him still shaking. Bryce got in the car and began to drive away as I led Monty to my Civic. He wordlessly got in and did up his seatbelt as I rounded the car and did the same. We were silent as I drove back to my house. Thank god my parents are at a conference. I don’t want to explain this one to them.

[eleanor-writes-stuff]

keep calm and let HR handle it [I/VI]

Rey managed to go a full year without ever directly interacting with her new CEO, but now it seems like he’s dropping by her office every single week.

(Because what else is a love-struck fool to do when he falls for his head of HR other than find reasons to visit her department?)

OR: five times Ben gets summoned down to HR, and one time Rey gets called into the CEO’s office, based on this prompt from @optimisticsprinkles: "Rey as the director of HR at [office] and Kylo/Ben starts finding reasons to be sent down to HR".

Hello, friends! I’m officially back from hiatus with a one-shot that somehow stretched into a six-part fic. Here’s hoping I’m not too rusty! Anyway, please enjoy the office shenanigans of CEO Ben and head of HR Rey as they go from colleagues to friends to lovers.

Chapter 2 Also available on AO3. And hey, maybe check out my Twitter and Ko-fi?

To: ben_solo@organafoundation.com From: rey_niima@organafoundation.com Subject: Office Conduct

Dear Mr. Solo,

This department has been contacted by several concerned individuals regarding your conduct this afternoon. Attached please find my schedule for the next two weeks; I would appreciate it if you could drop by my office for a meeting between us at your earliest convenience.

Warm regards, Rey Niima, Head of Human Resources, The Organa Foundation.

 To: rey_niima@organafoundation.com From: ben_solo@organafoundation.com Subject: Re: Office Conduct

Dear Ms. Niima,

As I’m sure you’re aware, I’m quite busy handling the fall-out of today’s events. My only availability this month would be at 5PM this Friday. Of course, I don’t expect you to stay after hours for a meeting. Perhaps we should reschedule for next month?

Best regards, Ben Solo, Chief Executive Officer, The Organa Foundation.

 To: ben_solo@organafoundation.com From: rey_niima@organafoundation.com Subject: Re: Office Conduct

Dear Mr. Solo,

I look forward to seeing you on Friday, in that case.

Warm regards, Rey Niima, Head of Human Resources, The Organa Foundation.

 It’s a little… surreal, Rey thinks, that she’s managed to avoid her new CEO for a whole year only to have their first in-person encounter revolve around her telling her boss off for throwing a temper tantrum.

She’s still a little hung up on the boss part, but Rose and Kaydel had pretty much forced her to send that email on Wednesday after news of the morning’s events started spreading like wildfire.

“This is exactly what HR is for!” Kaydel had insisted.

“If anyone else thrashed their office and made their assistant piss their pants in fear, you’d definitely call them in,” Rose had pointed out.

The keyword being anyone else, Rey had attempted to argue. The chain of command is clear, after all, in that the CEO sits at the very top of it, while the head of HR falls somewhere around the middle at best. But her team had refused to take no for an answer, and so here she is, two days later, anxiously waiting for her boss to arrive so that she can… gently scold him for his inappropriate behavior? Drop hints about anger management? Make pointed comments about the cost of replacing office supplies and furniture?

Rey has had two whole days to prepare for this meeting, and she still feels like she’s walking into it completely blind. She’s spent every free moment since Solo’s reply quizzing her friends and coworkers about him, only to somehow end up with even more questions about her boss than she had to begin with.

Paige thinks that Ben Solo is intimidating, but also shy. Finn says he’s intense and result-driven, but he tries to keep things light in the office. Poe swears he’s seen some of the scariest people in the business leave Solo’s office in tears, but Wednesday’s outburst was the first time anyone in the building had actually witnessed his legendary anger issues.

An okay boss, the consensus seems to be. Nowhere near as loved and respected as his predecessor and mother, but also nowhere near as bad as all of them had feared when it was announced that the COO of their sworn enemy was jumping ship to return to the family business.

It’s this reassurance that Rey clings to when the dreaded knock on her door comes at exactly 5PM. At least he’s punctual, even for a meeting he obviously tried his best to evade. Joke’s on him, though, because now they’re both wasting their Friday evening when they could have had this meeting at a perfectly normal working hour instead.

“Come in,” Rey calls out, and it instantly occurs to her how strange it is that she’s giving the CEO permission to enter her office. How in the world is she supposed to build up to the telling him off part?

Said CEO strides into her office with his eyes firmly fixed upon his phone and a furrow between his brows. “I apologize, Ms. Niima, but I have a previous engagement scheduled for forty-five minutes from now so we’re going to have to make this–”

He stops short as soon as he looks up from his phone and at her, and usually Rey would break the ice by asking if she has something on her face or in her teeth but… she’s equally at a loss for words, it seems.

Because here’s the thing: Rey thought she knew what Ben Solo looks like. After all, she’d seen him from a distance the day of Leia’s retirement party, when he was first announced as his mother’s successor, and sometimes their paths cross and she spies him down the hallway or across a room. But distance… distance does not do Ben Solo justice.

He’s tall, but she’d figured as much just from seeing him tower over literally everyone else in the office. Broad too, but she vaguely recalls Poe once insisting to a skeptical Finn that Ben Solo is shredded, so that’s no surprise.

But up close like this, what strikes Rey the most is his eyes. She’d forgotten – or maybe never even realized – that he has Leia’s eyes. It’s disconcerting to see that familiar glint of quiet determination lost in a sea of something she’s unable to name, something she only recognizes because like calls to like.

Rey shakes that thought off and snaps herself out of it, just in time to stand up and take Solo’s hand as he reaches for hers.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Ms. Niima,” he says, and Rey has to force herself to concentrate on his words rather than the smile that frames them. “I’ve heard so much about you, especially from my mother.”

She blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, still holding his hand. “It’s Rey. Um, I mean – please, call me Rey. No one calls me by my last name.” It’s not even hers, not really, but this is a HR meeting with her boss, not a heart-to-heart with her best friend.

“Same here,” he says with a shrug, and somehow they let go of each other to settle into their seats at the same moment. “Just Ben will do.”

Rey knows for a fact that a lot of people call him by his last name – nearly everyone, in fact, with the exception of Poe and his preferred boss man – but that’s not what they’re here to talk about, and she’s not going to let herself get derailed – not by tiny details like what he prefers to go by or the way the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles at her or how cramped he makes her rather spacious office feel.

She turns her attention to the clock hanging above her door instead – a kitschy little thing Rose brought back as a souvenir from a trip once – and is rudely reminded of the circumstances surrounding their meeting. It is 5PM on a Friday evening, and she should be at the company’s weekly happy hour over at Maz’s instead of dealing with her misbehaving boss. It’s a much-needed reminder, one Rey keeps in mind as she dives straight into it.

“Okay, Ben. Since you’re in a hurry, let’s get right to it. Could you talk me through the events of Wednesday morning?” She’s always been a no-nonsense, straight to the point kind of person, but Rey feels a brief flash of regret for her bluntness when the smile on Ben’s face suddenly disappears, only to be replaced by a perfect mask of… nothing.

“Right. Wednesday.” He clears his throat and drops his eyes down to his hands, laced together on the other end of her desk, and Rey watches in mild concern as this huge man seems to curl in on himself. “Look, it was… it was not my best moment, that’s for sure.”

He looks up then, carefully meeting her eyes, and Rey encourages him to go on with a wordless nod and the listening face she’s spent all her time in HR perfecting.

It works like a charm, every time. “I’ve been trying so hard,” Ben says quietly, still facing her even as his eyes occasionally dart away, “ever since I got here, and it’s been a whole year so I thought maybe things really had changed, maybe I’d changed, but then… then Wednesday happened, and fu- freaking Armitage Hux just had to swoop in and ruin everything for us, and I just…” He brings one hand up to run his fingers through his hair in an agitated manner, while the other clenches into a fist. This time, when his eyes move over her shoulder to stare out her window, they stay there.

“Of course Hux was the one to ruin everything. It’s always– maybe he brings out the worst in me. Maybe it’s just FO as a whole. Or maybe I’m just an asshole making excuses–”

His speech is getting faster, his breathing harder, and Rey looks down to find the fingers curled into a fist pressing so hard into his palm it looks like they might cut crescents into his skin.

It’s instinct, the way she reaches out for him without a moment’s thought or hesitation, the way she places her hand on top of his to soothe and comfort.

“Ben,” she says quietly, firmly.

And his eyes immediately snap back to hers.

“Sorry,” he says, the tension seeping out of his shoulders and eyes and jaw, leaving him looking rather like a deflated balloon. “Sorry, I just… I’m guessing you’ve heard about my experience with First Order?”

Who hasn’t heard the tale of how Ben Solo nearly gave his mother a heart attack when he chose to work with her mortal enemy right out of college? Who hasn’t heard all the whispered horror stories about his notoriously short fuse and his cold, unfeeling way of doing business and his complete lack of passion and principles?

Except… that’s in the past, all of it. And in the entire year that Ben Solo has served as CEO of the Organa Foundation, this is the very first incident she’s heard of. So Rey decides to go easy on him, especially in light of what he just said – or ranted – about trying to change.

“Bits and pieces,” she claims, a white lie.

Ben pulls his hand away from hers with a nod. “Enough to know what kind of person I was,” he assumes. “It’s probably true, everything you’ve heard. Especially the worst parts. But I meant what I said, about trying. That’s really not who I am anymore.”

He hangs his head in shame.

“Or at the very least, it’s not who I want to be anymore.”

Rey almost wishes his hand were still in hers, just so she could give him a little supportive squeeze. “One slip-up doesn’t undo a whole year of hard work, Ben,” she says instead, as gently as she can. “And given that this is the first time you and I have had to sit down, I’d say you’ve been doing pretty well this past year.”

It occurs to her, as she waits for him to absorb her encouragement and look up again, that this is not at all how she’d expected this meeting to go. First of all, she’s supposed to be scolding him, not comforting him. And secondly… this is her boss, not some overworked newbie stressing out about their first project. Absolutely no one is going to believe she ended up spending her meeting with the notorious Ben Solo as some kind of motivational coach instead.

But then he looks up at her with a smile – a small, soft thing – and suddenly… suddenly Rey’s okay with all of it.

“Thank you. That… that means a lot. And I’m sorry, for all of this… babbling. I don’t know what came over me, I don’t usually open up to people like this–“

“It’s a HR thing,” Rey quickly assures him, even though she can count the number of people who’ve actually broken down and opened up to her during a meeting on one hand. She just… she doesn’t want him to be uncomfortable.

Except she might’ve just made things uncomfortable with that reminder of the roles they’re supposed to play, the professional boundaries that should be in place.

Ben stills for a moment, and then sits up straighter, slides his hands off her desk and out of view. “Right. It’s just part of your job, isn’t it? Anyway, I should get going, there’s a conference call I need to attend to and I’m sure you have plans, what with it being Friday evening and all that–”

Rey watches in a sort of stunned silence as he abruptly stands up and cuts their meeting short, jarred by the sudden switch into exactly the kind of CEO she’d expected him to be. It’s only when he makes to turn his back to her that she snaps out of it.

“Wait, we still have to talk about what you did–“

“It was a mistake,” Ben says, without turning to look at her. “A slip-up, like you said. And it won’t happen again, I promise.” With that, he sweeps out of her office just as suddenly as he’d entered it.

And Rey is left staring at her door, trying to process the weirdest meeting of her life.

. . .

One down, four +1 left to go!

And hey: hello again, friends! It's been a while - more than four months, if anyone's keeping track. My hiatus was long, unexpected, and damaging, because wow is it hard to get back into writing proper fics after four months of nothing but the occasional Twitter fic. I've tried my best to polish this, so hopefully it's not as clunky as I fear it is. And hopefully things will get smoother with each subsequent update, as I remember how this writing thing works.

Until then, thank you so much for reading, I hope you liked it, and as always, comments, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[vagrantblvrd]

All These Pieces and Parts (1/1)

Summary: Ryan has a Problem with a capital ‘P’, and it has nothing to do with the assholes he works with.

(Okay, fine. That’s a lie because they’re always a problem, but this is different.)

Notes: Prompt fill for Anon who wanted Jeremwood with them as friendly neighbors who run into their Vagabond/Rimmy Tim alter egos  one night. :D???

(Read on AO3)

Ryan has a Problem with a capital ‘P’, and it has nothing to do with the assholes he works with.

(Okay, fine. That’s a lie because they’re always a problem, but this is different.)

========

Gavin is smirking at him, that infuriatingly smug one that sets Michael off whenever Gavin aims it in his general direction. Punchably smug, and the fact Gavin feels a hundred percent safe using it on Ryan just goes to show how soft this crew has made him. (Something like that.)

“Gavin, no,” Ryan says, not in the mood to deal with Gavin and his idiot shenanigans when he’s bleeding all over Ryan’s carpeting. “Please, for the love of God, no.”

It’s the middle of the night and Ryan woke up to Gavin climbing in through Ryan’s window looking like he lost a fight with a freight train. (And because Ryan’s apartment has thin walls, his neighbor heard the ruckus and came to make sure things were okay, and now Gavin knows.)

But Gavin is Gavin, and he just chuckles – chuckles! - as Ryan scowls at him.

“Your neighbor seems nice,” Gavin says, twinkle in his eye that spells doom for Ryan because Gavin lives to make Ryan’s life a goddamned misery. “Friendly.”

Ryan slants a look at Gavin, who pulls off innocent far too well for troublemaker he is. (People think Michael’s the bad influence, all those fights he gets into and don’t realize Gavin’s a million times worse. Actively goes looking for trouble, sticky little thief hands and no common sense to speak of, and just. Gavin.)

All wide-eyed like Ryan, no Ryan, Gavin would never and Ryan, please, how could you think I would do such a thing? and I’m just concerned about you Ryan, really like it’s not complete bullshit.

“I will kill you and they’ll never find the body,” Ryan says, even as he grabs the first-aide kit to patch Gavin up, because that’s how they work.

========

Ryan’s problem is that he has a new neighbor.

Sweet guy.

Friendly smile and this laugh and Ryan is a human disaster when it comes to people. (Also the matter of what Ryan does for a living, because wow, murder features in there kind of a lot? So yes.)

Jeremy’s also hot like burning, as the kids would say – do they still say that? - and that whole thing about Ryan being a human disaster.

They met when Jeremy knocked on Ryan’s door to borrow a cup of sugar - “Look, I know it’s a total cliché but it’s the middle of the night and I got a craving and I just thought I’d give it a shot? Sorry to bother you.” - and Ryan had been baffled and charmed in turn.

And then Jeremy had dropped by later to gift Ryan with some baked goods as a thank-you and that bit about the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach is undeniably true for Ryan.

So.

Jeremy is a nice guy who lives next door and sometimes borrows ingredients from Ryan because he forgot to get them himself and can’t be bothered to head to the store. It should be a problem, but Ryan gets free food out the deal, Jeremy’s great, and did Ryan mention he’s a human disaster?

Because he is.

He really, really is.

========

Ryan’s in the shooting range, because of course he is. The crew’s between heists and he’s bored.

Michael is “critiquing” him and being zero help because he’s been around Gavin for too damned long. (He’s also bored, and everyone else is out or busy on something or other.)

“So,” Michael says, grin in his voice even though his face is neutral as anything, just making small-talk while Ryan shoots the hell out of things. “Gavin says you have a new neighbor?”

Ryan doesn't sigh, no, because that would show weakness and that’s always a terrible idea around these assholes.

No.

What Ryan does is ignore Michael as he focuses on the paper target at the other end of the range and not the way his crew will drive him crazy one of these days.

========

“Oh, hey,” Jeremy says, bright grin and delighted to bump into Ryan like it’s such a novel experience running into each other in the elevator like this. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Ryan snorts, because nice, and gives Jeremy a look.

“You’ve got something there,” Ryan says, gesturing with his chin because his hands are full with grocery bags and there’s a kitten clawing its way up Jeremy’s shoulder.

Jeremy raises his eyebrows like oh, really? Thanks buddy as he reaches up to brush imaginary lint off his kitten-free shoulder.

And, look.

Their building has a no pets policy, but their landlord looks the other way when someone picks up one of the strays that linger out back. (Something about encouraging the residents to stick it to the man or some other nonsense, Ryan gave up trying to understand him years ago.)

Jeremy just looks at Ryan as he puts a hand out to steady the kitten as it wobbles its way up onto his shoulders, tiny little mews and indignant about something, and Ryan’s not heartless.

“You got it,” he says, and holds the door for Jeremy and his totally not a kitten when it opens on their floor.

========

There’s a crew meeting to go over plans for their next heist and they’re still waiting for everyone to arrive, so Ryan figures it’s a good time to caffeinate after being up late for a job the night before. (It’s early (for them) and Ryan is not ready to deal with the horror of coffee right now.)

“Hey,” Geoff says, and hands him a can of diet soda with a commiserating loo because Gavin and Michael are cahooting already and he’s always a convenient target for them.

Ryan takes it with a quiet thanks and the two of them enjoy the quiet while it lasts.

========

The elevator in their building is the worst.

Unreliable as hell and breaks down regularly, and like any good idiot Ryan forgets until he ends up trapped between floors in the damn thing.

“So then,” Jeremy goes on, incredulous like he still hasn’t figure out what a hellhole Los Santos is. “So then this asshole just fucking cuts me off!”

Ryan makes a non-committal noise. He stopped listening to Jeremy’s rant about five minutes back. Lost the thread and all that because he’s stuck in the elevator with Jeremy and yet another kitten.

Scrawny as hell, peeking around Jeremy’s leg to peer at Ryan.

Cute little thing, and Ryan is focusing on the damn kitten because the elevator is tiny and Jeremy’s pressed against him and Ryan is a weak, weak man. (Also, Ryan is a human disaster.)

Ryan wiggles his foot, and the kitten’s attention snaps to the ends of Ryan’s shoelaces. He’s so focused on getting the kitten interested in pouncing on his foot that he doesn’t notice at first when Jeremy stops talking.

When he does, he glances over, heat stealing over his cheeks in embarrassment.

“Uh,” Ryan says, because Jeremy’s watching him with this soft little smile. Opens his mouth to apologize for tuning him out, but the kitten chooses that moment to pounce and good God, it’s a vicious little thing.

Sharp claws and teeth and Ryan’s ankle will never recover, but he’s okay with that because Ryan’s weak for the sound of Jeremy’s laughter.

========

Jack gives him this beatific grin and Ryan turns right the hell around because hell no.

========

Geoff sends Ryan off on a job, tells him one of the new guys they picked up a while back will be there. Up high with a sniper rifle in case things go wrong and if that’s not cause for concern Ryan doesn’t know what is.

He goes because it’s what he does, and because this is Los Santos, things go wrong.

And because Ryan is Ryan, he’s more than capable of handling things.

Guns and knives and the usual armory he carries on his person. Throw in a sniper who knows what they’re doing and the two of them turn things right around soon enough.

Bodies on the ground, Ryan annoyed and this -

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

- cowboy?

Ryan gets a little chuckle and this judgy look in the angle of the cowboy’s(?) head as he looks Ryan over.

“Okay, so,” the cowboy says in a voice that’s too damn familiar. “I could ask you the same thing, but that would be rude, so I won’t.”

Ryan stares at the sniper/cowboy/??? because that’s Jeremy.

Jeremy.

Next door neighbor Jeremy who seems to have a new stray on him every time they run into each other.

Jeremy who loves awful puns and terrible jokes and borrows ingredients from Ryan because he’s too much of an asshole to make a quick run to the store to get them himself.

The same Jeremy who checks in on Ryan when word of “suspicious activity” takes place around their building because he’s worried Ryan might be in trouble.

“Jeremy?”

Jeremy cocks his head the other direction.

“Sorry pal,” he says, voice muffled by the face mask he’s wearing. “You must have me mistaken for someone else. The name’s Tim. Rimmy Tim.”

========

Ryan feels like he’s back in school when the class got new students and the teacher insisted on introducing them.

Lindsay’s chattering on about their new crew members, a trio they picked up from...somewhere.

Trevor, Matt, and...Rimmy Tim.

Matt seems indifferent to the proceedings but Trevor is making uncomfortable amounts of eye contact with Ryan like he’d like to have a word and Ryan is quietly dying inside because what is happening?

========

Ryan lost control of his life a long, long time ago, and this Thing (with a capital ‘T’) with Jeremy is just further proof, because -

There’s a knock on his door, and when he opens it, Jeremy’s on the other side.

Awkward little smile and measuring cup in hand.

“Hey, so,” Jeremy says, laughter in his voice because he’s ridiculous and knows it. “I don’t suppose you have a cup of bullets I could borrow? I’d get some myself, but I don’t think anywhere is open this late.”

- yes.a

[auntiebioticslab]

I didn’t get any asks for this but that’s okay because unfortunately I am WELL capable of infodumping without anyone’s permission. so here’s the unplanned variable ask meme by @outervvorlds

read mores do not work on mobile because tumblr is garbage from a toilet and my computer is currently on a UPS truck to California. I am so sorry.

Basics! Name, age, personality, etc. What do they look like? Are they a new or old oc? 

Her name is Rocket Alexandria Hawthorne! Formerly Rachel Holloway back on Earth but I’ll get to the reason for the name change.

She’s extremely vague about her age (her go-tos are “older than you” and “over a hundred” which are both technically true due to the “being on ice” thing) but she can pass for anywhere between 30 and 50 appearance-wise and the timeline of her Earth memories pretty reliably pegs her as late 30s-early 40s.

She’s a really effortlessly confident and funny person, which is the main reason she could probably talk her way out of her own execution. Also because I have a disease that makes me project my brain shit onto every oc I have she’s prone to hyperfixating due to an Unclear But Definitely Present Brain Thing so she knows a lot of things about a lot of things. Also she’d never openly admit it but she’s a sucker for romantic things and definitely cries at weddings.

This is her:

Her mom was Pakistani and her father was Black but she usually just says she’s from Baltimore.

What are their attributes, perks, and flaws?

She’s got high charm and intelligence, average strength and temperament, and good everything else.

I got her up to level 30 my last play through, do not make me list all her perks. Most of them this go-round so far are buffs to vendor prices and boosts to movement speed.

She has weakness to both plasma and physical damage!

What do they believe in?

Religiously, she’s agnostic but she kind of likes the notion of Philosophism. Morally, she believes that there’s no reason for people to pointlessly suffer just so someone at the top can hoard money, and also that the colony would be better off if Byzantium suddenly burned to the ground.

...she did not burn Byzantium to the ground, don’t worry.

How did they react to becoming Captain of the Unreliable? Are they much of a leader?

She always kind of wanted to be a cool spacefarer, but she hoped it would be under different circumstances. She told ADA that the real Hawthorne was killed by marauders, offered the poor bastard some dignity in death.

She is a pretty effective leader but that’s because she doesn’t really see herself as one? The crew aren’t subordinate to her, they’re her friends.

What was their life like before being iced?

It was boring! She was stuck in a shitty line cook job which wasn’t terrible but also felt like a waste of her education, and she was barely scraping by anyway. That’s why she applied for the Hope initiative.

Did they have any family before becoming Captain? Do they think their crew as family? 

Obviously she had parents growing up; they werent as present as they’d have liked to be because Work but she never once felt like they didn’t care for her. They didn’t live to see their daughter off when she boarded the Hope, but that was because of natural causes.

She also had four older brothers! Darren, Brice, Gene, and Andre. She was closest to Andre because the age difference between them was only a year. He’s actually the one who gave her the nickname “Rocket” in the first place; when they were kids they would pretend to be space explorers and their pretend names were Astro and Rocket.

None of her brothers were on the Hope. Darren actually was doing pretty well for himself in a low-level government job and didn’t feel the need to leave the planet, Brice didn’t want to uproot his wife and kids, Gene, well...she still has no idea what Gene was up to when she boarded the Hope because he took a job in another country and lost contact with his siblings years prior. Andre had been dead for years, unfortunately, having died in a work accident a week before Rocket was due to graduate college.

It still nags at her that while she can at least assume all her other brothers died peacefully and surrounded by loved ones, she knows EXACTLY what horrible thing happened to Andre.

As for the current crew, ohhh yeah, they are definitely her family. She cried when Felix said “I’ve got a family” to Clyde.

What’s their fighting style? Who do they bring along?

Ironically for a timeline where Roosevelt was never president, she does practice big stick diplomacy. Well, it’s usually small stick diplomacy because she prefers one handed melee, but still. If she can avoid direct conflict (through stealth or negotiation) she prefers to. The only exception was Tartarus.

There’s no real rhyme or reason to who she has in her party because from a Me As The Player standpoint I just go with whoever gives me boosts to the stats I need for the quest I’m doing. Which, in practice, usually ends up being Parvati and Felix because of that sweet sweet Persuasion buff.

Is Spacer’s Choice their only choice? What do they think of the corporations?

She is...not a fan of the amount of power they have. Spacer’s Choice in particular has a special place in hell as far as she’s concerned. If you held a gun to her head and asked her to pick a favorite...she’d probably ask you to just shoot her. Or she’d choose Auntie Cleo’s because their jingle is the least annoying.

What do they think of the factions? Are they liked or disliked by any?

Rocket has to make an actual effort to get on someone’s bad side so she’s in pretty good standing with most of the major factions. She made an effort with the Board, though 😁

For her part, she’s especially fond of the folks on the Groundbreaker.

What’s their favourite place in Halcyon? Least favourite?

She likes the scenery on Terra 2 and the people on the Groundbreaker, but as corny as it sounds her favorite place in Halcyon is the Unreliable. It’s home to her, and it’ll stay that way forever.

She doesn’t hate Edgewater per se but being there fills her with rage because of how...indicative it is of the way the rest of the colony is being run.

Do they have a favourite alien creature?

She definitely has never done extensive research on the care and feeding of leather boas because she hyperfixated on the idea of getting one as a pet before realizing that recreating the necessary habitat conditions on the Unreliable was impossible, or at least way too expensive.

No, I’m not projecting the amount of times I have done something similar for bearded dragons.

Did they save The Hope?

FUCK yeah she did.

What do they want to do afterwards? - but do they get a happy ending?

She finally gets some use out of her degree; she’s qualified to be a food scientist, like a real actual food scientist, and that’s probably what Halcyon needs more than anything.

Considering a few other things that happen in the epilogue, she doesn’t get a perfect end. But it’s enough.

What do they think of the companions? Friendships, crushes, dislikes, etc. 

She immediately thought “now I’M the big sister” after recruiting Parvati and Felix, so there’s that. Probably accidentally called each of them by the name of one of her brothers a few times. Convincing Ellie that she actually cares about her as a person is her white whale of sorts, and she empathizes a lot with Nyoka given her own history of loss. Logically she realizes that Max is a fellow capital-A Adult but also she feels like she’s holding the leash on a feral dog whenever he’s with her. She likes to tell SAM he’s doing a good job.

How do the companion quests go?

Golden ends across the board, babey. I’ve never been one to half-ass shenanigans.

What’s their love language?

Gifts and acts of service!!! She always tries to play it cool until she’s ready to admit her feelings though, so there’s a lot of pretending she just HAPPENED to find this thing she damn near tore the planet apart looking for.

Also she especially likes to flirt by cooking. Even back on Earth she got into a fair few relationships by being like “hey neighbor, I underestimated how much this recipe makes, interested in taking some leftovers off my hands? ;)” when she knew damn well how much the recipe made and doubled it so she had an excuse to see her cute neighbor.

Are they in a relationship? Do they want to be?

She has a crush on a certain rogue scientist, and unfortunately for her it is such an intense crush that she actually gets tongue-tied around him sometimes, which isn’t something she’s used to and that stresses her out a LOT.

Damn now I want to write an immediately-post-game-but-WAY-pre-epilogue fic with the crew trying to get them together so they don’t have to listen to Rocket blasting classical music and frustratedly screaming into a pillow every time she leaves his lab.

How to win them over?

She likes to look into someone’s eyes and see a fire, you know? I mean this in both a platonic and romantic sense—if someone is downtrodden but still determined, she probably at least respects them.

Also if someone she has feelings for does some kind of tender touch thing like brushing her hair behind her ear she McDies. Just completely short circuits. Cannot handle it.

How to break their heart?

If she found out someone important to her was using her or going behind her back it would destroy her. Unwilling betrayals as a result of being under duress are one thing, but deliberate, calculated manipulation? That’s her absolute worst nightmare.

How did those cows get onto their ship??

She wanted to try making homemade cheese and didn’t trust the bottled milk to actually be from a cow after what she learned about the saltuna cannery in Edgewater.

Ok technically she just agreed to deliver the cows to a facility on Terra 2 after the actual ship carrying them had engine troubles on Groundbreaker but she liberated some of the milk while in transit. Not like they’d notice.

A song that reminds you of them,

Sucker Punch by Die Mannequin!

Three random facts about them.

She got that burn scar during her time on Earth. Be careful with hot liquids, kids.

She’s tall—like, 6’5” tall. People who don’t receive proper nourishment don’t get very tall so she towers over most of Halcyon.

After the events of Don’t Bite The Sun she went back to Stellar Bay and told Raymond “I’ll teach you my recipe for breded cystipig chops with mock applesauce if you’ll teach me how to make that casserole”. Good trade for both parties.

[noreasonjustbored]

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Jealous

Part 1:

Charlotte and Henry started dating a few months before their high school graduation. Everyone thought that it was a bad idea for them to begin a relationship because they were already set to go to separate colleges. Henry decided to attend the local community college, so that he could still be Kid Danger, and Charlotte would be a few hours away at Stanford on a full ride.

Before deciding to take the risk, they agreed that it wouldn’t work if both parties were not 110% committed. Knowing that they both wanted to make ‘them’ work above all else helped them to persevere through the rough patches. In the beginning the miles apart placed a strain on their relationship since they were so used to seeing each other every day. But they adjusted, they really put in the time and effort needed keep their relationship afloat. The distance eventually forced them to have better communication skills. They learned to articulate how they were feeling more concisely since they couldn’t read each other’s body language through text.

Since starting school they had both grown up a lot more. Charlotte decided to make the most of her college experience. She absolutely focused on her academics, but she wasn’t afraid to hit up a frat party every once in a while. She really found her stride in clothing design and would sometimes even sport her own looks to these events. Her wardrobe as a whole was more diversified. While her new clothes were far from risqué, she did show a little skin more often than not. She was overall a more confident and open person.

Henry was maturing in his own ways as well. He was taking over more responsibility when it came to the superhero business and the regular business. He would go out on missions alone frequently and only requested Ray for backup when absolutely necessary. Henry was really coming into his own as a hero. He was even considering rebranding himself and retiring his Kid Danger moniker for good. He couldn't yet decide between Man Danger, Sir Danger or Mr. Danger. He would have to workshop the name a little more.

It had been almost a year since Charlotte and Henry became official. In that time, they learned a lot about each other. Individually and as a couple. Charlotte learned that Henry was extremely needy and possessive and jealous. Henry learned that Charlotte was not.

Sometimes it bothered Henry that Charlotte was so nonchalant about people hitting on him. They had once been on a date where the waitress flirted with Henry the ENTIRE time. She was even so bold to leave her number on the receipt with a winky face next to her name. Charlotte didn’t even bat an eyelash. And he knows that Char noticed, she was way too observant not to pick on the very obvious server. She didn’t make any comments about it during or after the dinner.

He, on the other hand was always claiming her in front of random people. He couldn’t leave her alone for two seconds without coming back to some schmuck shooting their shot. Guy after guy were constantly getting curved by his beautiful girlfriend. That didn’t stop Henry from making his place known. A glare and a not so subtle hand around her waist or shoulder usually did the trick. He just wanted to drive home to these dudes that they had zero chance, not with his Char.

Henry figured that he should be happy that she was so secure in their relationship. And he was happy, but maybe he would like to see a little jealousy every once in a while. Charlotte had such a casual attitude towards the attention he got from other women, and sometimes men, that it felt like she didn’t care at all. He knew that he had already hit the jackpot with Charlotte, she was truly one of the best things to happen to him. He just wanted to feel as if the same was true for her.

Their first anniversary would fall during spring break so he convinced Charlotte to let him plan the entire week. She was hesitant to leave everything in his hands but conceded after a few days of pleading and pouting over FaceTime. She almost couldn’t believe how quickly she caved after seeing Henry’s adorable puppy dog expression. She did always find it hard to resist those beautiful brown eyes. Especially when combined with his hopeful begging to, “Just trust me babe. Pleeeaase.” Charlotte folded like fresh laundry.

Henry decided that they would go to New York for their break. Charlotte loved musicals and fashion, both of which there was an abundance of in New York. He decided that he would take her to a Broadway show, a concert and a runway show. He was ambitious.

During his research for the trip Henry discovered that the first installment of the official New York Fashion Week was hosted every February. They had already missed it but there were usually a series of smaller, more accessible shows in the month or so following. He was able to secure them seats at a show with an up-and-coming brand that seemed to fit Charlotte’s new style.

During his deep dive into fashion shows, plays and all the other events happening during their break, Henry saw that the Boo Man Group had shows in the city that same week. Charlotte loved them plus it would make up for that one year on her birthday that she missed their performance because of superhero shenanigans.

When trying to get tickets online he discovered that the group was sold out the entire time they would be in New York. Sighing in defeat, Henry was about to click off the browser when he noticed that the Boo Man Group weren’t doing a solo performance. They actually were just the opening act for none other than...Double G!

A tiny spark of hope bloomed in his chest when he realized that he just might have a connect to get into the concert after all. He figured it was a long shot but he quickly pulled out his phone and searched in the contacts. Once he found the name he was looking for, he immediately hit the call button.

Biting the corner of his bottom lip in anticipation, he hoped that she still had the same phone number and would pick up. Tapping his fingers on his thigh nervously Henry listened to the ringing tone and was just about to disconnect the line when he heard a raspy, “Hello?”

“Hey. Babe?” Henry asked.

Babe squinted down at her phone in confusion and cleared her throat. “Henry?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, did I wake you up? I completely forgot about the time difference between California and New York.” Henry said while glancing at his clock on his beside table. 9:02 pm. It would be after midnight over there. Oops, thought Henry.

“Uhhh yeah, that’s okay though. I’m up now, what’s going on?” Babe wondered while sitting up in bed. She hadn’t talked to Henry in over a year, unless you counted his extremely scarce retweets on Twitter or a rare comment under her posts on Instagram.

“I was wondering if you could help me get tickets to one of Double Gs shows in March?” Henry asked hesitantly while scratching the back of his neck.

“Uuuuuhh” was Babe’s reply.

“It’s totally okay if you can’t help me out. I figured I would at least ask because all the dates were sold out. And I know you are close to his family. You know what? Forget I brought it up” Henry said in a rush.

“Henry it’s okay, I’m still half asleep and I was just contemplating if I would be able to get you tickets. Chill.” Babe replied with a small laugh.

“Sorry. I’m a little high strung right now. I’m trying to plan a spring break to remember and these tickets would definitely get me one step closer.”

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll check with Trip tomorrow at work. He pretty much has access to all his dad’s shows. I can probably hook you up with backstage passes, VIP, the whole thing.”

“Really? Oh my gosh, thank you so much. I can’t believe it” Henry exclaimed excitedly.

“Yeah just text me tomorrow with the details. What days you’ll be in town, number of tickets, whatever else” she said while yawning.

“Ok, ok will do. Thanks again. I really owe you one Babe” Henry said sincerely.

“Don’t mention it, I’ll be happy to collect on a favor from Kid Danger” Babe teasingly retorted.

“Well, have a good night. I’ll let you get back to sleep. Talk to you later.”

“Talk to you later” Babe replies before hanging up her phone.

A large smile covered his face when he thought about all the fun they were going to have. Spring Break couldn’t come fast enough.

Henry was so busy arranging the trip that he barely had any extra time. He and Char usually FaceTimed every night but recently that had decreased to two or three times a week. On top of all the trip planning, he was out on more late night crime alerts than usual. It seemed as if every villain in Swellview had suddenly gotten the motivation to enact their little schemes all at once. Like they all decided that they needed to complete their plots for total domination before Spring Break. Maybe they were going on vacation too.

Henry was busy consolidating his budget one afternoon when he got a video chat request. Looking up from the document that he was reading he searched under all the pages spread out on his desk for his phone. He finally located it under a credit card statement that he had printed. Looking at the screen he involuntarily smiled when he saw the contact picture. Pressing accept, he was greeted by the glowing umber skin of his gorgeous girlfriend.

"Hey Love" Henry greeted with a dazzling smile.

"Hey Handsome. I was just calling to see how you were doing on budget day" Charlotte responded.

Furrowing his brows and squinting slightly, Henry chuckled. "How'd you know it was budget day?"

"Well I know you've been working on being more fiscally responsible after I explained that good credit wasn't just for 'crusty old dudes'. Plus your card balance is due tomorrow and you always wait until the last minute to figure out your bills."

"Wow, aren't you quite the detective?" Henry sassed lightly.

"Yes. Yes I am. Also, you put it in our shared calendar with a frowny face beside it." Charlotte smirked.

"Oh yeah, I remember that now. That was after the third time I had pushed it off for later. I decided to put it in the joint calendar because I knew you would hold me accountable if I didn't do it."

"Smart plan. You know I can help if you need anything."

"Yeah, actually I have a question about interest rates. How do you-" Henry paused.

Charlotte could see Henry looking at his phone in contemplation while biting the corner of his bottom lip. “Uh, baby?" Charlotte inquired after few seconds of silence.

"Hey, I'm actually getting an important call, let me call you back later okay?"

"Oh ok, don't forget to tell me...your question about interest" she trailed off when he she realized that he had already clicked over to the other line.

Strange thought Charlotte.

He reluctantly interrupted his conversation with Char because Babe was calling him back. He needed to know if she was able to secure the tickets for them. But, he decided it would be a good idea not to tell Charlotte who was calling. He didn't want her to figure out the surprise location and a clue like that could give it away. She wouldn't be able to guess where they were going since she didn't know that he was talking to Babe. What other reason would Henry have to speak to the New York native?

Henry spent the next few weeks coordinating with Babe about his Epic Spring Break Trip. She helped him get the concert tickets and extra perks but she also gave him advice about what other events would be in town that week. She provided the inside scoop about all the cool local spots in their area. She also helped him pick which Broadway show they thought he and Charlotte might like the best. She assisted with picking what hotel would work best with his budget. Babe was basically his travel agent without any pay.

When everything was finalized and shaping up to be the best spring break of all time, Henry called Babe to ask her what he could do in order to repay her for all the assistance. She responded that she was more than happy to help and if she thought of anything, she would let him know. He told that he would help her with whatever, whenever and let her know that it had been great catching up with her over the last few weeks.

Henry had previously only considered her a nuisance based off the impression she made when they first met. Now he thought of her as, at the very least, a good acquaintance. Maybe even a friend. Time seemed to have mellowed her out significantly. He might even consider accepting her friend requests on his private social media pages. He followed her profiles but she had seemed like she would be hella annoying online so he held off on letting her follow him back.

As the vacation approached, Henry got more and more nervous. He went back in forth in his head about if Charlotte was going to hate everything that he planned. Unnecessary thoughts plagued his mind. What if her interests had changed? What if she hates Boo Man Group now? What if doesn’t like fashion anymore? What if she doesn’t even like ME anymore?

His fears were quickly assuaged on the day before they were set to leave for New York. He, Ray and Schowz were all standing around talking while they hula-hooped. He had just dropped his hoop for the thousandth time when Charlotte came into the ManCave. She immediately dropped all of her luggage after stepping off the elevator and catapulted into his arms. He hugged her back tightly and when he pulled back to look at her face he could see the love shining in her eyes. He let out a sigh of contentment while holding her in his arms. Then they proceeded to have the most intense, toe curling, lip tingling kiss that they had ever shared.

Their passionate, borderline inappropriate kiss came to an abrupt halt when they heard an airhorn sound off loudly right into their ears. They hadn’t seen each other since New Year’s day, could you really blame them for getting swept up into the moment? Quickly jumping apart they looked around to notice that Ray and Schwoz were staring at them incredulously.

“Geez guys, did you remember to breathe?” Ray exclaimed.

“Yeah it looked like you were both trying to suffocate each other with your tongues.” Schwoz snidely commented.

Charlotte looked embarrassed to have lost her inhibitions in front of the pair and weakly called out “Shut up!” while rubbing her arms awkwardly.

Henry chuckled and pulled his mortified girlfriend into his arms again and gave her a simple kiss on the forehead.

“What are you doing here babe? I thought I was going to pick you up from school on the way to the airport tomorrow morning?”

“You were but I wanted to surprise you. You’ve spent so much time planning this trip that I feel like we haven’t spoken much lately.”

“Awwww...you missed little ole' me? I’m honored” Henry responded jokingly.

Charlotte hit him lightly on the arm. “I mostly missed Jasper” she says with a smirk. “Where is he by the way? I wanted to see him before we left. I thought he was coming home for break?"

“Jasper was invited to some kind of exclusive bucket convention last minute so he’s actually in Wisconsin right now.”

“Oh. That’s weird, but totally Jasper. I also missed those two goofballs, but don’t tell them that.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” Henry said lowly while bending down to give Charlotte another kiss. Before they could even brush lips, the air horn let out three quick spurts too close for comfort courtesy of Ray.

“Uh uh uh. No more of that in here. I don’t like to be reminded of how single I am.”

“And stop hogging Charlotte!” Schowz said while pulling Henry away to bestow a brief hug upon her.

“I missed you! You know these idiots can barely comprehend what I’m saying most days” Schowz lamented.

“That's because of your silly accent and you know it!” Ray cuts in while pushing Schowz away with a palm to his face.

He gives Charlotte a quick hug as well and says, “Welcome back Brains. I didn’t miss you at all.”

“Love you too Ray” Charlotte says with a smile.

They spend the whole day in the ManCave watching movies and catching up on life. This place was her home away from home and she wouldn’t it change it for the world.

[goodlucktai]

twice the heart

natsume yuujinchou pairing: nishinatsu word count: 2367 title borrowed from more heart, less attack by needtobreathe: “be the never turning back twice the heart any man could have”

written for @natsume-ss​ ! my giftee this year was @nesushii, i really hope you like it ! <3 read on ao3

x

When Shuuichi extends the invitation, he’s largely expecting Natsume to turn it down.

Instead, the other side of the phone call drops into thoughtful silence, and then Natsume’s quiet voice says, “Would I be able to bring someone with me?”

To say Shuuichi would agree to anything Natsume asked of him is a stretch, but not much of one. Natsume could express an interest in bringing his whole high school class along and Shuuichi would find a way to make it happen.

“I must say I’m surprised,” Shuuichi teases, once they’ve gotten Touko’s glowing permission and made the appropriate arrangements. “I didn’t think my movies were of any interest to you, and now you’re going to spend a weekend on set?”

“Well,” Natsume says with a hint of warm humor, “my friend is a big fan.”

   Shuuichi is always happy to meet a fan, devoting more time to autographs and interviews than his publicist would like, but this is a special case. He’s acutely aware that the russet-haired boy before him now, half-hiding behind Natsume’s shoulder, isn’t just another movie enthusiast.

Because while Nishimura flushes and stammers and can’t seem to decide whether he should gape at Shuuichi or just stare at his own feet, Natsume watches his antics with a wide smile. This is someone Natsume is fond of, at the very least, and from what little Shuuichi knows about Natsume’s very lonely past, that makes Nishimura someone more than worthy of the VIP treatment.

They tour the set, meet a few of the other actors, peek into an empty wardrobe suite. It’s all just this side of mundane for Shuuichi, and it’s obvious to anyone with eyes that Natsume isn’t moved either, and Nyanko-sensei looks like he wouldn’t so much as bat an eye if the entire building was to go up in flames, but Nishimura more than makes up for their lack of enthusiasm. He’s bright-eyed and spilling a dozen questions and tugging Natsume into countless selfies as they go, and buoys the mood into something wonderful.

The afternoon is a pleasure, really. While getting Natsume to admit to anything more than “school was okay” is like pulling teeth, Nishimura is an eager conversationalist, and launches into charming anecdotes of countryside shenanigans with very little prompting on Shuuichi’s part.

In two hours, Shuuichi has learned Natsume’s favorite color, his least favorite food, the title of a book series he’s been binge-reading for the last two weeks, and the entire story of how he and Taki and Kitamoto all got stuck up the same tree. That’s more than he’s learned from Natsume in almost a year.

Perhaps most remarkably, Natsume doesn’t mind at all. He watches Nishimura the way Shuuichi has seen people watch their favorite part of their favorite movie, every now and then smiling in a faint, knee-jerk way that says he’s unaware his mouth moved at all.

Ah, Shuuichi thinks gleefully. So that’s it.

Nishimura has been a delight all afternoon, sunny and cheerful and energetic enough to make up for Natsume’s disinterest twice over, but as morning fades into afternoon something changes.

It’s a gradual shift, one that Shuuichi doesn’t notice right away. The boy’s smiles, so automatic before, seem to be a reach now. He’s a little slower to pick up conversation, eyes trailing narrowly away. If it were Natsume, Shuuichi would be certain there was a yokai problem afoot-- but when he cuts a quick glance at Hiiragi, paranoid despite himself, she shakes her head.

By the time they sit down for lunch, Nishimura is outright scowling.

“Let’s do something else for the rest of the day,” he says without warning, and Natsume blinks up from his meal, looking as bewildered by the non-sequitur as Shuuichi feels.

“What? You’ve been looking forward to this forever. I thought you’d beg Natori to let you live here.”

“C’mon, Natsume,” Nishimura wheedles. “There’s a whole city out there to see! Who knows when we’ll be back here again?”

It looks like a familiar exchange, Natsume longsuffering and Nishimura petulant. Shuuichi thinks he’s getting a good idea of what their usual dynamics are like, when Natsume is the first to give in with good grace, and Nishimura smiles like they both knew it was only a matter of time before he did.

“Well,” Natsume finally says, “Natori is our host, so it’s up to him.”

If he was expecting Shuuichi to shut Nishimura down, he should have known better.

“I’d be happy to get away from work, actually,” Shuuichi says with a winning smile. If something back at the studio is the reason behind Nishimura’s soured mood, then Shuuichi is more than willing to play hooky for the day. It’s not as though they could fire him. “Consider me at your service this afternoon.”

And so the day is spent lost in the city. Natori is only here for a few weeks, shooting a few scenes on location at the picturesque riverfront, so he’s not a very helpful guide. But he’s happy to pay transit fare and foot the bill for whatever souvenirs catch the boys’ eyes and stop for enough snacks that dinner is effectively ruined, and it seems to do the trick. Natsume and Nishimura are arguing and laughing and trying to push each other off the sidewalk within an hour, and the atmosphere lightens again by spades.

Shuuichi plays the role of cheerful chaperone and largely keeps them from wandering into traffic. Otherwise he’s a hands-off babysitter, letting them roam to their hearts’ content.

He thinks it’s obvious from the way Natsume’s eyes linger-- the softness of his mouth when he smiles at all of Nishimura’s chatter, the way he’ll forget himself and get noisy and silly as though Nishimura’s presence alone is a buffer against everything that taught him to be still and quiet-- that there’s definitely some level of infatuation here.

Whether or not Natsume is aware of it is another matter entirely.

Whether or not Nishimura is aware of it is also a mystery. He’s quick to catch Natsume’s hand or throw an arm around his shoulders or push the long fringe out of Natsume’s eyes when the February wind tosses their hair, but he also seems to be a tactile kid in general, so that might not mean anything at all.

It’s none of Shuuichi’s business, but love stories certainly are; he makes a living off them, after all. He can’t help being interested, though he knows better than to meddle. Natsume wouldn’t thank him for it-- would probably have a few very strong words for him, at that-- so Shuuichi stomps down the protective edge his thoughts start to take. It’s really not his place.

From what he’s seen of Nishimura, he’s a good kid. His taste in movies is certainly top tier. And Natsume is a very good judge of character. That’s enough for now, Shuuichi decides, and buys the boys enough matching keychains to share with all their friends back home.

A phone call from Shuuichi’s harried assistant is finally what brings them back to the studio. Apparently one of the filming locations was double-booked for a wedding this weekend, and the director is chewing over either rushing the scene or shooting it somewhere else. In his bad mood he noticed their leading actor missing, and Shuuichi’s assistant all but begs him to come back.

They pile out of the cab in front of the studio, Natsume beginning to flag after a busy day of new places and new faces and a lot of walking. His cat, bundled in his arms, has looked disgruntled since this morning, but that might just be his face.

“I’m sorry about this,” Shuuichi says ruefully as they make their way inside. “Please bear with me. I’ll sort this out as quickly as I can, and then give you free reign of the room service menu back at the hotel. Deal?”

His suite is more than big enough to accommodate two high schoolers for the weekend, as he assured Touko over the phone when they traded emergency numbers and contact information, with more than enough amenities to keep them busy. But it looks like their first night will see them too tired to do more than go straight to bed, and Shuuichi feels a little guilty about that.

“Oh, no,” Natsume says, eyes wide. “No, this is-- we’re the ones intruding, we know you’re busy. We shouldn’t have taken you away from work in the first place. Take your time.”

He gives Nishimura a nudge with his elbow that doesn’t look gentle, and Nishimura nods through a wince. “Yeah, absolutely. We’ll be good.”

But his sunny mood is disintegrating again. He’s visibly bristling, and keeps pace at Natsume’s side as though he’s standing guard. Shuuichi keeps an eye on him while the production staff argues with each other, and it’s because he’s watching so closely that he finally catches on.

The boys are in an out of the way corner of the studio, very obviously minding their own business, and someone Shuuichi doesn’t recognize-- one of the PAs, possibly-- cuts toward them. It’s too far away, and too loud besides, for Shuuichi to catch whatever is said.

But he sees it when Nishimura’s tremulous hold on his temper snaps. He surges out of his chair, eyes bright with anger, and Natsume only barely manages to curb the fight before it starts. He shoves Nyanko-sensei into his friend’s chest, and Nishimura’s arms curl around the cat on reflex, and now he has no hands free to pick a fight.

Shuuichi, however, is not given a fat cat as a deterrent, and has plenty of hands free.

He’s crossing the studio with swift, sharp strides, Hiiragi at his side. He realizes he’s furious-- disproportionately so-- and it must show. Natsume looks cowed as he approaches, and the PA fades away into the crowd.

“Sorry,” Natsume says quickly, “if we interrupted-- “

“Don’t say sorry,” Nishimura says right over him. He’s searching the crowd hungrily, as if the force of his glare might bring that woman back over. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Nishimura,” Natsume stresses, looking as though he’d like to sink into the floor, “it’s okay. She just-- I used to live with her family. She’s not-- you don’t even know what happened back then, you don’t know why she said-- “

“I don’t have to know,” Nishimura snaps. He pets Nyanko-sensei just for something to do with his hands. He looks ready to set the next person who looks at Natsume sideways on fire. “Anyone who treats you like that is picking a fight with me, so deal with it.”

And this is the boy who dragged them all over the city for hours, who coaxed and whined and teased until Natsume gave in and had a good time. He was so excited to get behind the scenes for this movie, he was ecstatic to meet Shuuichi and his co-stars, but it didn’t cost him anything to leave it all behind because one person in this busy studio was unkind to his friend.

His earnest eyes are narrow now, all trace of that idol worship placed somewhere far behind him, as he sizes Shuuichi up. Nyanko-sensei lifts up to bump his head on the underside of Nishimura’s chin, but his eyes are dark and intelligent, and they size Shuuichi up, too.

Beside him, Shuuichi is aware of Hiiragi lifting a hand to the lower half of her mask, as though she’s covering a smile.

Well, I know when I’m outdone, Shuuichi thinks.

A nearby security guard is looking particularly interested in their group, and Shuuichi waves him over with a smile. The middle-aged man saw most of the altercation, and would recognize the PA if he saw her again. Shuuichi makes a quiet request for the guard to get her information and collect her badge and escort her off the property.

With that taken care of, Shuuichi turns to the teenagers in his care. They’re both staring in surprise. He wonders what they expected of him, if not that. He certainly won’t tell Natsume he plans on blacklisting her name on as many upcoming projects as his influence will reach, but Nishimura would probably be delighted by the idea.

“That’s one way to end an evening,” he says with a great theatrical sigh. He puts a hand on each of their heads, feeling all twenty-four of his years, and his voice softens into something more serious. “I wish you would have told me something was wrong in the first place. I would have dealt with it then, and we wouldn’t have had to change our plans.”

He looks particularly hard at Natsume, and Natsume has the good grace to look ashamed. After all the deadly situations they’ve lived through together, surely the child can trust Shuuichi this much.

Nishimura presses Nyanko-sensei back into Natsume’s arms. His eyes are full of sunlight when he looks at Natsume, burning and affectionate and fierce.

“We still had a good time, didn’t we?” he says, as if that’s all that matters.

The Western-style hotel suite boasts two beds and a pull-out couch, but Natsume and Nishimura both clamber into the bed nearest the window without bothering to change. Nyanko-sensei stretches out across the foot of it while they talk in low, sleepy voices.

Shuuichi steps into the room, having wanted the phone call in which he had a PA fired to be a more private affair in the hall, and is just in time to watch Natsume press a kiss to Nishimura’s knuckles, as though to soothe a bruise that isn’t there from a fight that didn’t happen.

Ah, Shuuichi thinks. His instincts are getting rusty. That’s twice now that he’s been too slow on the uptake.

Natsume goes still when he notices Shuuichi in the doorway, like a rabbit sighted by a hawk, but Nishimura brightens. He holds Natsume’s hand harder when Natsume tries to let go.

“Natori! You promised us room service, right?”

Shuuichi feels something tight in the pit of his chest relent, and he smiles despite himself. The smile melts the anxiety out of Natsume’s tense shoulders.

“So I did,” he says, and hands over the phone. 

[katastroficwriter]

Kiibo meets a drunken Kokichi at a Christmas party and decides to help him get home as Kokichi can't drive. Bonus points if Kokichi ends up convincing Kiibo to stay.

Hi. I realized that with the way the prompt was phrased, Kiibo and Ouma are strangers. However, by the time I made that realization, I already wrote so much–all based on the idea that they’re childhood friends and I got attached to it. I’m sorry about this ;v;) But I hope you’ll forgive me for my clumsiness.

You know how serious something is once your childhood friend’s college roommate calls you at 11 pm just to pick up your said friend from a Christmas party even though you don’t go to the same college. Kiibo shook off the snow that got on his coat by the bar’s entrance before showing the bouncer his ID. He released a sigh once he got inside, already disgruntled from the scent of smoke and liquor that permeated in the air. Why were they having a Christmas party at a bar of all places?

“Ah, Iidabashi, over here!”

Aquamarine eyes flitted towards a familiar crisp mint green haired male who was standing at the very back. He narrowed his eyes, spotting his childhood friend’s languid form laying beside him. Kiibo clicked his tongue as he made his way towards the two.

“I’m sorry for calling you out so late for this,” Amami bowed apologetically. “I told him that not all of the cocktails on the table are non-alcoholic, but he wouldn’t listen and decided to just drink whatever’s available. And well…”

“Whu-huh? Whozzat?” grumbled Ouma, lifting his head to see who the newcomer was–except his eyes were closed.

“Kokichi…”

Ouma’s eyes snapped open in an instant. He scrambled off his seat and clumsily welcomed the albino with a hug. “Kiibob!!! What took you–” he hiccuped. “–took you so long! I wuz waiting for you for ages!”

Kiibo struggled to balance his friend before sending his friend’s roommate an inquisitive look, to which the latter responded with a shrug.

“I told him it was time to go home but he was acting stubborn, saying that he won’t leave without you,” Amami explained. “He’s convinced that you went to this party with us tonight.”

Kiibo let out an exasperated sigh at the information. “To think he’d forget the fact that I study in a whole other school just because he’s intoxicated.”

“Kiibob~ Kiiboop~ Kiiboopy~” Ouma whined as he nuzzled the albino’s chest. “Let’s go home and eat cookies~!”

“Kokichi, we’re not children anymore,” Kiibo huffed. What made the situation less aggravating for him was the fact that Ouma had ended up with a reliable roommate, which is something he was grateful for. Who knows how much trouble Ouma would have been in if he ended up with someone careless? “Do you have his car keys? My car is under maintenance so I actually got here by cab.”

“Ah, yeah. Here,” the taller male rummaged through his coat pocket and handed the albino the item. “Frankly, I’m a little buzzed too. So you’re a real life savior.”

Kiibo quirked a brow at that as he adjusted his hold on the raven-haired male, wrapping the latter’s arm over his shoulders. “Don’t you usually have a designated driver for these kinds of things?”

“…Ouma was the designated driver,” Amami nervously scratched his cheek.

He was only familiar with Kiibo simply because Ouma would talk about him regularly. They usually talked on the phone too, Ouma had him on speaker from time to time whenever his hands were full. He only managed to recognize the albino thanks to the photos his roommate would show him during impromptu storytimes about his childhood.This would actually be the first time they actually met face to face, so he wasn’t entirely sure how the albino would react to his roommate’s shenanigans.

“…I thought so,” Kiibo sighed, instead of asking more incredulous questions. “I’m truly sorry for this, Amami-kun. Kokichi could really be a handful sometimes.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” Amami waved a dismissive hand before pulling the door open for Kiibo so he could drag his cuddle monster of a friend out of the bar. “I didn’t mean to call you out this late at all, but you were the first name on his speed dial.”

Kiibo paused in his tracks before shaking his head. “Idiot. You should set your parents as your first emergency contacts.” He gave the drunken man a gentle flick on the forehead.

“Owww,” whined Ouma. “Wha–whyyyy? What did I do?” His eyes were welling up with tears. God, and Kiibo thought he was already immature before.

“I’ll scold you in the morning. But for now, we’re getting you in bed once we’re back in your dorm. Now behave for me, okay?” Kiibo made sure to pull his friend’s hood over his head to protect him from the cold.

Ouma blinked once, twice, before flashing him a goofy grin. “Okaaaay~”

Amami helped him buckle Ouma’s seat belt before entering the backseat area. Ouma’s drunken rambling was intelligible, but the chartreuse-haired man couldn’t help but think that maybe Kiibo understood it all.

“I can’t understand what you’re saying, Kokichi,” Kiibo huffed as he pulled the car out of the parking lot with ease.

‘Ah. So that’s not the case after all,’ Amami covered his mouth with a hand to muffle his chuckle. He must have been drunk enough to entertain such a silly thought. He then decided to direct his attention to the scenery outside. To think that Ouma had someone like Iidabashi to look out for him despite being his usual mischievous self. Maybe…that’s exactly why Ouma called out his name a lot while they were waiting for Iidabashi to actually arrive. He smiled to himself as his eyes flitted from the seat in front of him, then at the calm face of their driver. ‘Maybe that’s exactly why Ouma loves him.’

                        —————————————————————–

“Kokichi, let go. I need to go home,” Kiibo sighed for the umpteenth time. Getting his friend changed and tucked into bed was already a struggle. But the biggest obstacle yet was having his friend latch on him like an over-sized koala.

“Noooo! Don’t goooo!” whine Ouma, punctuating his request with a hiccup. “Wh-whut if, if, Santa would get inside and eat all my cookies?”

“Kokichi…” the albino moved to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You don’t even have a chimney here, how would Santa get inside in the first place?”

“He has other waaaays!” Ouma shrieked the last word when Kiibo made another move to leave. “Kiiboooo, staaaay!” He sobbed. “I don’t want him to, to, eat my cookies…”

“I don’t understand how me being here would stop a large Christmas icon from eating sugary treats at dawn,” Kiibo deadpanned. His exhaustion was starting to take its toll. He really needed to get home.

“You can rocket punch Santa,” mumbled Ouma, whose face was already pressed against his back.

Kiibo eyed Ouma’s sleeping roommate with envy, since he had collapsed in bed as soon as they arrived. “No. I can’t. Also children would be sad if I accidentally obliterated Santa.”

“I’d be sad if Santa ate my cookies…” Ouma tightened his hold on the albino. “…But I’d be sadder if you’d leave… You–we–we never got to…hang out anymore.” The albino’s hands dropped to his sides as he heard muffled sniffles coming from his back. “Please? Don’t go…I’ll–I’ll even share my cookies with you!”

Kiibo closed his eyes, inhaled, exhaled, then pried his friend’s hands off of him, earning him a distressed gasp. He turned around and took a few steps forward before engulfing the raven-haired drunk in his arms, patting his head. “That’s a terrible bribe and you know it,” he chuckled, as he squeezed Ouma a little. “But okay. I’ll stay. Just this once, of course.”

Ouma was rendered speechless, his usually quick-witted mind was too inebriated to process what just happened. “H-huh? Does that…”

“Scooch over. I’m exhausted,” as if to prove his point, Kiibo yawned. On his good days, he’d regard his friend with his usual kind self. But right now he just wants some rest. Fortunately, his friend managed to pick up what he said and excitedly made space on his bed. They don’t know how or when, but somehow they managed to fall asleep in each other’s arms.

                      ———————————————————-

The first thing he noticed upon waking up was that the sun was too bright and that his head feels like there are a million jackhammers thundering into his skull.

“Oh my god….” Ouma groaned. “Everything hurts. What the fuck happened last night–” he paused. For a brief moment, all the pain in his body disappeared as he realized that the childhood friend he was pining for was sleeping next to him.

Holy shit.

Santa is real…!