#and I was like ‘yeah maybe you should take advice from the guy with three wives’

[gurugirl]

Sex Tutor

Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.

A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!

Word Count: 10k

Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink

. . .

“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”

That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough

You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.

So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.

“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”

“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.

“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”

You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”

Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.

“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.

“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”

You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.

And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.

Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.

Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.

You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.

Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.

Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.

Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.

You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.

Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.

You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.

Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.

You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.

He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”

You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.

When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.

He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”

Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.

You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.

“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”

He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”

Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.

“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.

Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”

You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.

“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”

He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”

You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”

He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”

You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”

“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”

You nodded again.

Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”

“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well���” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”

He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.

But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.

Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.

And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…

You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”

“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.

“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”

Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.

“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”

You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.

“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.

So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.

Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.

“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.

He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.

When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.

He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.

“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”

You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.

“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”

You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.

Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”

You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”

“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”

“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”

Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”

“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.

“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”

It made sense you guessed.

“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”

He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”

You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.

“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“

“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”

“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.

You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.

“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”

You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”

Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”

Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”

“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”

Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”

“Did it turn you on?”

Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”

Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”

You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”

“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”

“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”

It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.

“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”

Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”

You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”

Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”

You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.

“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”

“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”

“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”

It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.

He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”

You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.

 “So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”

You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”

Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.

It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.

For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.

“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”

He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.

You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.

Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”

He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.

Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.

“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”

You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”

Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“

“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”

“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”

Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.

The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.

Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”

“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”

You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.

Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”

You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”

You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.

You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”

You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”

“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”

You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”

“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.

You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.

He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.

He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.

“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”

You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”

He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”

You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.

The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.

“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”

You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”

Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”

You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”

“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.

After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.

Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”

You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”

Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”

Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.

When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”

The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.

The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.

And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.

Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.

It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).

The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.

He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.

When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.

Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.

“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.

“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.

Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”

You nodded.

“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.

He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”

Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.

You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.

“Fuck! Yes…”

You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.

You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.

He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”

You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”

He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.

You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.

When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.

And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.

But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.

Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.

He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”

You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…

You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.

“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.

A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.

Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.

“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”

Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.

And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.

Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.

The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.

“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”

Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.

When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”

He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”

He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.

You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.

You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.

He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.

When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.

You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”

But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.

When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.

“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”

He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.

He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.

The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.

Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.

You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.

“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.

You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.

If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.

He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.

“Did that all for me? Yeah?”

You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.

“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.

Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.

“Feel okay?”

You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”

“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.

You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”

You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.

“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”

There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.

Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.

You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.

When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.

“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”

He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”

“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“

He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.

You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”

“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”

PART 2

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[10moonymhrivertam]

Future Redeemed is a lot of staring at Rex and the various pies he has fingers in

[creativewritersposts]

introverted - Luke Hughes

summary; Luke Hughes x reader

You know him for years over the internet. But when you meet him in person, he acts awkward and uncomfortable. It's a big step for an introverted guy. Can you handle it?

warning(s); FLUFF!!, mentions of insecurity, maybe grammar errors

author's note; hi you wonderful people out there! Hope you're all okay✨

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

Luke Hughes is everything.

He's awkward, he's a good player and wraps every girl around his finger even when he looks like a zombie, because he stayed awake too long last night to watch the new movie.

"-so he told me I'm boring-", you spill him the tea on FaceTime, talking about the boy you really liked and ghosted you. "He's wrong", Luke smiles in his camera, looking comfortable. It's something you learned about Luke- he's very shy and uncomfortable when he doesn't know people. It's weird how you became friends, - somehow. You're living one continent apart but your connection went good and never had problems to talk with each other. "well I have something to talk about", Luke speaks out and looks away from his display, you nod. "I booked you a ticket. I know you're having your summer vacation next week and being alone at home so you can join us in Michigan", his shy side shows again.

"MICHIGAN?", you squeak under panic. "yeah", he chuckles and looks insecure, thinking if it was the best idea. "Like Michigan with your parents, siblings?", you follow up. "Yeah", he smiles. "i told you not to pay things for me!", you warn him, "take it as an early birthday present ", he argues back. "my birthday is in december!", you roll your eyes, "ok, see you in Michigan!".

Here you are, with all your bags at the airport, searching for Luke. Or a nice sandwich, you're hungry. "Hey!", Luke waves awkwardly at you, coming closer, until he gives you the hand. "Luke", you raise your eyebrows, "we're friends for three years now, gimme a hug!", you hug him because he could say something against it. "I'm sorry but Jack is the driver", he warns you, talking a bag over his shoulder. Jack leans on the car door with sunglasses on, "hi", he hugs you without asking, driving to the lake house. "Mom cooked a lot of food, hope you're hungry", Jack eyes meeting yours, Luke just smiles. "sure, can I sit next to Luke?", you ask Jack. You're here because you want to spend time with him. "I'll not interrupt you lovebirds", he laughs and walks in front of you both. "Are you ok with sitting next to me?", Luke leans over to your ear, whispering these words. "sure, Lucky Luke", you smile at him. His cheeks are blushing. After meeting the whole family you ate dinner, but Luke looks very uncomfortable next to you. Barely talking. He avoids you for three days now, you try to get along with the family but you want to talk to him. You're here because of him.

"Luke?", you ask him, when you finally found a moment in piece with him. "hm?", he smiles.

"Do you want me to leave?", you speak out your worries. "no!", he shakes his head, "I am just very shy, ok? I need my time to feel comfortable", his ears getting red. Your body feels like under electricity, you're more extroverted and never thought he feels that way. "Sure, don't worry", you smile respectfully and leave the room. "Ohh trouble in paradise?", Jack asks you with his girlfriend under his left arm sleeping. "No, it's just too much", you sit down on a camping chair. "did he say something silly? He talked about meeting you nonstop in New Jersey", he focuses on your emotions. "He avoids me for three days and i asked him if i should leave. He told me he's shy and feels uncomfortable", you blame yourself. "sounds like Lukey", he nods understandable. "It's not your fault. After a few days he's the most annoying person ever, trust me", he huffs playfully with a small grin. "what can I do?", you ask him for advice. "He loves movie nights. Ask him to do that?", he thinks about his little weird ass brother.

"I don't want him to feel uncomfortable!", you worry. Jack nods and lays his girlfriends head on the lounger without waking her up.

"Luke!", Jack steps into the house, standing in front of his younger, taller brother. "you told me about this new movie, can you remember?", you join with them. "Yeah, it's a sequel from Harry Potter ", he nods friendly. "your best friend has no plans this night so you can watch it with her", he points with his finger at you, to stop miscommunication. "uhm-", Luke's voice cracks. "If you say no I'll watch it with her", he looms. "you have a girlfriend!?", you think out loud, both turn their bodies in your direction, "I can handle two women", Jack gets sassy. "okay, after dinner", Luke plays with his fingers.

Time flew away. Now you're sitting in Luke's bed, you can smell his cologne and waiting with snacks. "ok I'm ready", Luke comes in and smiles softly, but very nervous. "What are you wearing?", he blushes again, "a pyjama", you laugh. "uhm.. without bra?", he mudders. "Who knows", you mock him. You're laying both in his bed, you can feel how your eyes feel heavy, you yawn after a while. "Can i lay down on your chest?", you ask. His bed is like wood under your body, it's definitely not comfortable. "Sure", he's distracted with watching the movie, petting your hair without thinking much until he hears your softly snores. "sleep well", he kisses your cheek, wrapping his arm around you in the comfortable way and sleeps in, too.

The next morning you wake up from voices around you, "mom take a picture!", jack stresses. "Jack stop being so annoying in the morning!", she tells him, "they're kinda cute together", he whispers. And you close your eyes again.

[dameronology]

liar (bucky barnes)

based on the paramore song of the same name lol a.k.a the one where bucky barnes is scared of his own feelings a.k.a jazz is back in her bucky era

warnings; language

enjoy!!

-jazz

Bucky Barnes had never considered himself a liar.

If anything, he had a hard time not telling the truth. It escaped from his mouth before he even had the chance to think about; no, Steve, I think your new hair cut sucks and sorry Sam, she wasn’t actually checking you out, she was waving at the guy behind you. Call it a product of his years as an assassin - because he couldn’t recall being this truthful back in the war - but it was part of who he was now. Sometimes he thought it meant he should come with a warning; something to say don’t pull the pin on this grenade, because he won’t lie to your mum about liking her food. Would that have been the worst Tinder bio ever? Yeah, no doubt.

Bucky had a hard time even lying to himself. That had become clear as soon as you whirl-whinded into his life. That day was still as crystal clear in his head six months later. It had been an early morning at the SHIELD HQ - the F-train had been delayed an hour and he’d come sprinting into a national security meeting, Starbucks in one hand (he was already late, he figured five minutes more for a frappuccino wouldn’t hurt) and a jumbled apology ready to offer. Then, not two seconds later, you’d come sprinting through the door, smacking into the back of him and launching the iced coffee from his hand, into the air, and straight into the lap of the British prime minister. 

Bucky was late, but you’d been even later. He liked that about you.

You were a whirl-wind in his life; his best friend from that day forward and the reason he could let go of the breath he’d been holding for so many years. Meetings were never boring with you, nor was the paperwork after long missions or the early starts. Every time he was late, he knew you’d take even longer because maybe his commute from Brooklyn was long but you lived three blocks away from work and managed to sleep through every goddamn alarm you’d set. 

It was clear about exactly three seconds after you met that you and Bucky were not destined to just be friends. You knew it and he knew it but neither of you wanted to talk about it. Avoiding the truth wasn’t necessarily lying - Bucky was thankful for that, because he knew that if you asked, everything would come out. He wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t ready for love. 

So, you both left it to rest (and maybe to rot). 

“I hate meetings,” you grumbled. It was eight o’clock on a Monday morning and thanks to a national security threat, you once again found yourself in the SHIELD meeting room earlier than you felt to be natural. “Can’t they just put this in an email?”

“Probably,” Bucky replied. “Hi guys, there’s a terrorist threat. If you see something, say something. Lots of love, the security council.” 

You snorted. “Did you know I have all of their emails sent straight to my spam?”

“I would do the same but I can’t work out how the Facebook app works,” he muttered. “Why are there so many buttons? What are cookies?”

“Buck, why would you have the security council on Facebook?”

“Isn’t that…” he paused, scratching the back of his head. “Isn’t that where emails go?”

You dropped your head in your hands and let out a groan. “I only just got you used to Twitter. I’ll leave it a few weeks before I overwhelm you with any more social media apps.”

“What about TikTok?”

“I am never letting you download TikTok,” you said. 

“Sam said that I should make thirst traps-”

“- please no!” you cut him off. “Never take life advice from Sam.”

Sam was sat across the table from you, a scowl on his face. He was a morning person - hell, the man had already been for a run that morning - but the combination of you and Bucky at any point in the day was enough to drive him up the wall. He glanced between you both, brown eyes calculating for a second, before a grin spread across his face. 

“Don’t worry, he doesn’t,” Sam chirped. “Remember last week when I told you to do that thing, Buck?”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “Shut up, Sam.”

“What thing?” you frowned.

“It’s not mine to share,” Sam shrugged. “But based on the last five minutes’ worth of interactions alone? I think it would be best to listen to me-”

“- I swear to god if you don’t stop talking!” Bucky cut him off; then he glanced at you, blue eyes wavering for a second. “Don’t listen to him.”

Sam knew that he was doing; playing devil’s advocate because a) it meant he could piss off Bucky and b) hopefully get two of his best friends to finally get together after months of pining. It had gotten to the point where him and Steve had literal bets on it. Not necessarily on if you would get together, but more on when. 

“I’m not, but you’re acting weird,” you said. “Want to share with the class?”

“No,” Bucky firmly said.

“Buck,” you warned; it was clear by your voice that you weren’t fucking around. “I don’t know what immature high school bullshit is going on right now but I don’t appreciate it.” 

“I’ll talk to you about it later, okay?” he said. 

“You’re an ass,” you replied.

Picking up your bag and coffee, you shuffled over to the other side of the meeting table where Steve was sat. He hadn’t said a word in any of this; you quite often cursed the lack of boundaries amongst the four of you, but you couldn’t fault Steve that morning. He’d kept to himself, simply watching in awe at the chaos that had just unfolded. 

You stopped in the seat beside him, glancing over at him. “If you say a word, I’ll hit you.”

“I’m not saying anything,” he held up his hands in defense.

The meeting was quick, thankfully. Even worse, it definitely could have been put in an email. You also couldn’t help but notice the British diplomats watching your coffee carefully every time you moved - that was a joke you could have made to Bucky, had he not managed to get himself into your bad books.

You’d barely been out the board room five minutes before you were practically wrestling him by the ear into a quiet corner. The meeting had been quick, thankfully. It hadn’t felt that way for Bucky, who’d been sat opposite you the entire time, barely avoiding your dagger-y gaze. If looks could kill, his vibranium arm would have had a fair few dents in it. 

“So?” you asked. “What was that all about?”

“It’s nothing,” Bucky quickly replied. “I promise-”

“- bullshit!” you cut him off. “Why are you keeping things from me, Buck?”

“I’m not.”

“You are!” you exclaimed. “Look, I don’t even want to know what you and Sam were talking about but at least have the common decency not to keep me out of a conversation that’s about me!”

“Why aren’t you mad at Sam too?!”

“Believe me, I have it out for Sam too but it’s worse when this stuff comes from you!”

Bucky thinned his eyes at you. “Why?”

“You know why.”

He sighed, shifting from one foot to another. Eyes to the ceiling for a second, he took a deep breath. 

“Sam told me last week that I should ask you out,” he said. “Said something about how everyone around us can see what we don’t, and that we’re kidding ourselves, and…”

You sniffed, trying to stay composed. It had been a long time coming, there was no denying that. Bucky had been avoiding the conversation because he wasn’t ready but you’d been avoiding it because you were terrified of the answer. Rejection from literally anyone else in the world would have been fine, but from him? There was no metaphor for that pain, or that fear. 

“And what?” you asked. “What do you think of that?”

He shrugged. “I think it’s…”

You both waited for a second, the tension in the air almost suffocating.

“...dumb.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Dumb?!”

“Yeah?” Bucky sounded unsure. “We’re best friends, and-”

“- that’s bullshit!” you snapped. “Buck, I know you can be confusing but…if there’s one thing I am certain of, it’s that we are not just best friends and you know it!”

“Do I?”

You took a step back, sniffing. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s dumb. Forget I said anything.”

“Wait, don’t be like that-”

“- it’s fine, James,” you sniffed. “I’ll see you around.”

“Are we good?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

(You weren’t good.)

“Okay, I’m glad. Call me later, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course,” you forced a smile.

(You weren’t going to call him.)

–

Five days.

That’s the longest Bucky had gone without talking to you since he’d met you and also the exact amount of time you’d been ignoring him for. He’d given in calling you after three days, and considered coming around your apartment after four, but then he got a last minute call onto a mission where your name was at the top of the call sheet. Fab. 

Bucky liked to consider himself a good flier, but it certainly would have been easier to co-pilot a jet with someone who was actually willing to talk to him. It was quite amazing, actually, to see the lengths that you were willing to go to all in pursuit of icing him out. 

“This is Barnes to air traffic control on QJ564. We’ll be approaching our destination in about five minutes, currently at 10,000 feet, over.”

“This is ATC to QJ564, you’re cleared for landing in Munich, runway four. Over.”

“This is Barnes to ATC on QJ564. Runway four confirmed, thank you. Could you also tell my co-pilot that I’m sorry and that I miss them? Over.”

“Uh…this is ATC to QJ564. Barnes says he’s sorry and that he misses you. Over.”

“This is Barnes’ co-pilot on QJ564, tell him that I think he’s a cun-”

“- this is Captain Rogers monitoring the channels for suspicious activity from the headquarters. May I remind the pilots aboard QJ564 of the appropriate workplace manners over professional channels? Over.”

After Steve’s voice, the lines went silent. Bucky glanced over at you, eyebrows raised. 

“That was rude.”

You continued to ignore him, attention turned to landing the jet safety. It wasn’t hard - Tony Stark had built a jet that practically landed itself, but it was still a good enough excuse to blank out your best friend for the next five minutes. Still, none of that conversation was worth the absolute castigating you were about to receive from Captain America as soon as you were back in New York. He was no fun sometimes. 

With the jet safely on the runway, you parked up at the airport and made your way down to the tarmac where the agents were waiting. All you had to do now was await instructions from headquarters on what to do next. That gave you more empty time with Bucky, who was stood next to you. So, you moved away and leant against the wheels of the plane, pulling out your phone to play Doodle Jump.

The call came through eventually, but it was to Bucky’s radio instead of yours. 

“Right, agents,” he began, though it was more a sigh than anything. “Coulson is currently ten minutes out on another quinjet to lead the mission. Agent (Name) and I have been removed from this operation for the foreseeable future so that we can sit in the jet, man the communications systems and re-take the online seminar about appropriate workplace language.”

“What?!” you exclaimed. “Nice one, Barnes!”

Bucky forced a smile, trying not to crack up in front of the fifteen junior agents stood in front of you. “Why we have to retake it is a mystery to me.”

“Good luck out there, guys,” you huffed. With that, you spun around and stormed back on board the jet. 

Bucky was hot on your heels, closing up the door behind him as he went. He didn’t really know what to say - somehow he’d made you angrier, now - but apolgoising profusely felt like a pretty good place to start. 

“So you’re talking to me now?” he asked, following you through the fuselage. 

“No!”

“You just did!”

“Fuck off, Bucky!”

“And again!”

“Leave me alone!”

He grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“Sorry doesn’t even begin to cut it,” you huffed.

Taking a seat, you curled your legs up in front of you. You didn’t try and swat (or hit) Bucky when he leant down in front of you, which he took as a good sign. It was time to pull out the big guns. 

“Can I talk for just…maybe five seconds, possibly ten, without you interrupting?”

You nodded.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never want to hurt you because you’re the last person in the world I’d ever want to upset but I was put on the spot by what Sam said, and then by what you said, and it freaked me out a little,” he began. “You and I both know that he’s right - but never tell him I said that - and honestly, the silence you’ve given me over the last five days made me realise that more than ever.”

You smiled. “What are you saying, Buck?”

“I love you,” he said. It was plain and simple, completely without hesitation and entirely with conviction. “I’ve known that for a while but I just didn’t want to admit it to myself, but like I said…five days without you made me realise I don’t even want to go five seconds without you.”

“That’s how you apologise,” you gave him a watery grin, poking him in the chest. 

“So?”

“So what?”

“Anything you want to say to that?”

“Oh, yeah!” you exclaimed. “I love you too.”

Bucky pulled you into a kiss; he held you flush against him, one hand holding the back of your neck, metal one gripping the back of your tac-vest. Despite everything, he was warm and you were certain then that you were never going to let him - if not a little ecstatic that you’d found a new way to shut him up. 

You both jumped back when you heard the doors to the jet go, only to turn around and see Phil Coulson on the phone, a glare on his face.

“What is it with you two and inappropriate work place behaviour?”

[waynes-multiverse]

Plastic Hearts – Part 23

Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader

Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.

Chapter Warnings: +18, language, smut, fluff, angst, quiet hurt & a touch of heartbreak

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Oh, you'll hate me again for ending it like this. Have fun, guys 😂

<< 22 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

23. Every Breath You Take

“More?” Dean offers the half-emptied wine bottle and holds it over Y/N’s glass as they sit around the dinner table. The actress throws him a raised look with a little smile playing on her lips.

“Are you trying to get me drunk? You don’t have to. I’m already sleeping here,” she points out in amusement.

“Yeah, but when you’re buzzed, you let me do more shit.” The green-eyed director smirks.

“Ew, Dad!” Claire groans next to him. “I’m right here. This is why I don’t wanna do family dinner with you guys.”

“This was actually a nice idea,” Y/N says with a smile so bright it shows her dimples. “Thanks for cooking tonight. Perfect way to start our last week of filming.”

Dean’s heart stings slightly at her words, but he covers it with a tight smile. The last three weeks passed by rather quickly, and each week, he grew more worried, more nervous, more depressed, and more anxious. This was it. Seven more days before it all imploded. Six more nights before he might not see her again.

He has been wracking his brain, trying to come up with solutions to save the show – to keep her. Cas and Jo are out on fairs, networking with networks and showing their tape to other producers in hopes of getting picked up by someone else, still without any success.

“So, uh, any plans so far? Heard some of the girls are going to auditions, looking for other jobs,” Dean notes and nurses his beer. He doesn’t hold it against them. It’s the business, after all, and everyone’s trying to survive and find their next paycheck.

Y/N bobs her head and sets her wine glass down. “Yeah, actually. I was thinking about taking your advice and going to New York for auditions. I like the idea of doing theater or maybe even a musical.”

Dean forces a supportive smile on his face and hides the heartbreak in his ribcage. “Yeah, you should. You’d be great at it.”

“But, uhm, for now, I’m actually driving to San Diego in a few days for an audition for a musical. I’m not gonna get it, but I figured it’d be fun,” she tells him, and even though she downplays it, Dean can see the excitement sparkling in her eyes.

“Oh, c’mon, why wouldn’t you get it?” he encourages her. He promised himself he’d always be her cheerleader, no matter his own feelings on the subject. He’s trying a new thing these days – it’s called being less selfish.

But God, he hopes she gets it. San Diego is a lot closer to LA than New York.

Y/N snorts into her glass, chuckling. “It’s a Sondheim musical, Dean. I’m not expecting to get it. It’s just good practice.”

“Aiming high, huh?” Dean laughs despondently and takes a big gulp of beer to choke down his tears.

Dammit, Dean thinks. He wishes he could call the dude and tell him what a great woman and actress Y/N is. He’d be lucky to have her in his production. Maybe the director could bribe him to hire her? Would that take things too far?

“How are you gonna get down there?” Dean’s eyes drift to the leg in a cast that rests on a chair next to him.

Y/N gives him a shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t know. Take the bus?”

“I’ll drive you,” he says with a swig of his beer. See? Supportive. He’s really proud of himself, although he wishes he were a lot drunker right now.

“Ooh, uh, Claire, I borrowed two dresses from Alex for you. I put them in your room. You need to pick one for your Winter Formal,” Y/N tells his daughter with a bright smile.

But Claire shakes her head with teenage defiance. “I don’t need a dress. Jack and I are going ironically.”

Dean’s brow furrows in confusion as he blinks at his kid. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Claire rolls her eyes in response and groans. “Ugh, Dad, you’d think for someone who lived through counterculture, you’d understand.” With that, she gets up from the dinner table and takes her empty plate to the kitchen sink.

“I know what she means,” Y/N mumbles nonchalantly.

Dean’s bewildered gaze darts to her. “Really? What?”

Y/N coolly shrugs her shoulders as she sips on her wine before she sighs defeatedly. “Fine, I don’t know. I just wanted to sound cooler than you,” she admits with a cute smile.

Dean snorts a laugh. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

“I’m going to bed. Good night! Don’t be too loud!” Claire yells before the door to her room slams shut.

Dean watches Y/N as she leans back in her chair with a blissful sigh and empties her glass. She has pretty much spent every night at his place since the hospital. At this point, the director has gotten so used to it that he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if one night she didn’t. Why can’t it stay this way?

He never thought he’d be someone who wants to have family dinners every night.

“Too tired for dessert?” he asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows and his signature smirk.

Y/N laughs lightly. “I wish one of these days you’d offer me actual dessert,” she quips.

“Like what? Chocolate cake? Pie? I’d actually love some pie. Maybe we should get one for tomorrow night,” Dean muses, chuckling.

Y/N grins mischievously at him and leans her elbows on the dinner table, resting her chin in her palms. “Maybe you can eat pie off of me.”

Dean curls his lips, his cheeks blushing at the idea alone. His dick seems to like it, too. “God, I love… your brain,” he quickly corrects his course before the wrong words slip out.

And it’s not like it isn’t true. While Y/N hasn’t been able to act and tumble around the ring, she’s been coming up with storylines and basically coordinated matches for the past three episodes. She’s also constantly by his side and mans the booth with him. If Dean didn’t sleep with her and like her, he’d actually be scared she’s coming for his job. She’s pretty much directing at this point, and he just lets her because, well, did he actually ever care?

But his declaration is only a small part of the truth, the full truth being that he loves more than just her damn brain and has for a long while. He’s been trying to say the words for weeks now, started and stopped a hundred times, and tried to pack his feelings into a coherent sentence that honestly shouldn’t be more than three words long.

However, those are some big three words. Monstrous for Y/N. And deep down, Dean knows she might feel like he does, too, but can’t admit it and doesn’t know what the hell to do with it. To her, this little arrangement between them is nothing more than friends who fuck. Only Dean’s aware that they’re actually in a deeply serious relationship, which is maddeningly ridiculous.

But hey, if he keeps his mouth shut, they might make it another five years like this without Y/N running away, so that’s something.

Dean then rises from his seat and offers his hands to Y/N. Her leg is still in a cast, so she has been wobbling around on crutches or hopping clumsily across a room. It’s pretty darn cute.

“Thank you,” Y/N says gratefully as Dean helps her up and slings her arm around his neck before he fully hoists her into his arms. She giggles as he carries her into the bedroom. “You don’t have to do this every night, you know. I can walk just fine.”

“Says you, but truth is, you’ve never seen yourself walk on these things. It’s pathetic,” he teases her and plops her carefully down on the bed.

He flings off his shirt and removes his jeans and underwear as Y/N unbuttons her blouse. The mattress dips as he climbs into the bed and helps her discard her pants. It’s routine at this point, but Dean has really started to cherish the stability. Every morning when he wakes up and smiles at her, he loves knowing that he’ll fall asleep right next to her at night all over again.

Gently, he spreads her legs and slots between them. His lips find hers in the moonlit dark and kiss her with deep affection and burning love, always pouring his whole heart into each kiss and hoping one of these days it’ll stick.

Grabbing a condom from the nightstand, he rolls it over his throbbing length and positions his dickhead at her entrance, slipping into her tight channel till she’s full of him. Her lips part as the same little gasp escapes her that he hears every time he enters her. He loves hearing that noise almost as much as he loves to hear the big one when she comes and the medium ones in-between.

Sometimes, Dean makes her come before, but on nights like these, when she’s already had half a bottle of wine, he rather works quick. While wine makes her louder and more daring, it also renders her quite sleepy.

“Fuck,” she sighs and closes her eyes with a euphoric smile, her pussy gripping his cock tight as she clenches around him. “You’re always so good at that.”

Dean smiles amusedly. Wine makes her chatty, too. “I haven’t even done anything yet, sweetheart,” he remarks.

“Well, I guess I just-… I just love your cock,” she says bluntly and grins up at him. “And those lips.”

See? Wine.

“These ones?” Dean asks teasingly and leans down, pulling one of her nipples between them till she squirms.

“Uh-huh, yes…” she moans softly and cards her hands through his hair, causing a groan to pass his lips. “And that tongue.”

“This one?” Dean lets his tongue roll over that same nipple till it peaks, feeling her arch her back underneath him.

“Yes, and God, those hands and fingers…” she almost whines.

“Those two?” Dean snakes a hand between their bodies, two of his fingers finding her clit and drawing tickling circles.

There’s no more strength left for words. She bites harshly down on her bottom lip and nods vividly. Her cunt clutches him tightly, eliciting a giddy chuckle from him. He loves making her squirm.

Three more squeezes, and he knows he has to move before she grows impatient. He knows her well by now, knows every little detail about her, and loves that he does. They haven’t even been able to do half the things he wants to do to her due to her current injury and inability to move (or bend) as freely.

And yet, he’s still not fucking bored, not in the slightest. He keeps waiting for it, but it never comes.

On the contrary, he appreciates the feeling of knowing someone so deeply and intimately as he knows Y/N. She has become a part of his soul, and he doesn’t know if he could ever cut her out without severely hurting himself. He’s not sure if he could survive a wound this deep.

“Dean, please…”

That was the fourth – like clockwork.

Dean manages to thrust twice before loud punk rock music shakes the walls and drowns out every noise in the entire house. Hell, the whole neighborhood can probably hear it.

Frustrated, his head drops momentarily to Y/N’s shoulder as the actress snorts a giggle. He can feel her body and cunt trembling around him, but not for the reason it should.

“Claire!” Dean shouts angrily. “Turn that fucking music down! Y/N’s trying to sleep!”

“No, she’s not!” his kid yells back through the wall and the unbearable music. “I know you guys are having sex! I don’t wanna hear anything!”

“We’re not having sex,” Dean barks and watches as Y/N gapes at him in sheer playfulness.

“Wow, you lie like that to your kid?” she teases him.

“What d’you want me to say? ‘I’m sorry, you’re right. I’m inside of her now’?” Dean retorts wryly, making Y/N burst into uncontrollable laughter as she snorts into his shoulder. “Can you please stop laughing while I’m trying to fuck you? My soldier’s already retreating.”

But Y/N only laughs harder at that, tears streaming down her cheeks as Dean’s lips purse with a sigh through his nose. She then exhales a deep, long breath, trying to calm herself. He’s seen her do this very move a hundred times during an acting scene.

She clears her throat and tries to force a more serious look onto her features. “How about a little Russian motivation?” she says in her infamous accent and smiles when his cock twitches in agreement. “Maybe some oral manipulation, yes?”

“Oh, fuck yeah.” Dean grins and leans down to capture her lips. “God, I love yo… your pussy,” he quickly corrects himself once more. That was a close one.

Alright, don’t look at him like that and don’t judge him. He’s trying. He really is.

But Jesus fucking Christ, he loves living these days. Who knew his forties would be the best time of his life?

With a big yawn, Y/N rubs her eyes and stretches her arms over her head. The shower in the main bathroom is running with Dean already in it. She grabs her crutches and hops to the window, opening the blinds to let some sunlight in.

She takes a deep breath and enjoys the morning silence for a moment, her gaze drifting out the quiet neighborhood. It has never been this peaceful in the motel. The last three weeks, she has really appreciated waking up in Dean’s bed. She knows she’s probably overstaying her welcome at this point, but he hasn’t kicked her to the curb yet, so she hasn’t been in a hurry to return to the motel, either.

He was right – the memory foam mattress is fucking heaven, especially with a broken ankle.

All in all, she imagined being benched for the show would be a lot worse than it is. Dean’s done a great job of incorporating her anywhere outside of the ring. She’s helping with storylines, training, directing, producing – really anything that could use a few tweaks. The green-eyed director is unfashionably nice to her. Maybe it’s the sex or their friendship or a combination of both. Either way, she’s grateful for him.

However, there’s this tiny voice inside her head that keeps telling her there’s a reason why Dean’s been so nice, and it’s not just the sex. It’s certain kisses and touches and looks – especially the looks – that make her believe there’s something lying underneath the surface. An iceberg so gigantic it could sink the Titanic. Whenever she catches his clandestine gazes from her periphery, there’s this inexplicable feeling that creeps through her veins.

Her peace is disturbed when excessive knocking and an uninterrupted ringing of the doorbell draw her attention to the front door. A part of her expects to find her best friend behind it. Only Jo could be this ruthless and obnoxious.

Y/N hurries to the door as fast as she can, which isn’t fast at all, considering she’s on crutches. Everything is just awkward and slow these days, but she’s been practicing moving around in hopes of joining the show again for the final episode. Billie and Donna have been helping her, too.

But as Y/N opens the door, she’s not greeted by the familiar blonde but by a brunette stranger instead. The only similarity the woman shares with Jo is that she’s incredibly hot and angry, too.

“Can I help you?” Y/N asks with a look of bewilderment, although she shouldn’t be surprised to find a mad woman on Dean’s doorstep.

“I’m Lisa Braeden. I’m looking for my daughter,” the woman says, somewhat impatiently.

Oh.

“Uh…”

Y/N stumps for a moment, eyeing the woman in front of her closely. So, this is Claire’s mother. Dean’s ex. She tries not to feel insecure around her, but it’s hard, considering the woman is a bombshell with perfect curves and flawless features. And if she looks like that now, Y/N wonders what she must’ve looked like seventeen years ago.

The actress suddenly feels very exposed in only the director’s flannel. Truthfully, she looks like she just crawled out of a gutter. Maybe it’s the fact she has just woken up and is sporting major bed-head, but Lisa probably thinks Dean took in a homeless person. The cast and crutches don’t help, either. And then, Y/N wonders why a part of her cares at all what the brunette thinks and reminds herself it’s not a competition.

“Dean? Dean!”

Her voice carries a certain amount of panic that’s probably uncalled for. Yet, it helps. The shower turns off, and not a minute later, Dean stands next to her with only a towel wrapped around his waist, his broad chest still glistening with droplets of water.

He does know how to make an entrance.

Dean’s brow is deeply creased when he takes in the woman at the door, lacking a sense of recognition, however. “What the fuck is all that noise?”

“I’m the fucking noise,” Lisa replies dryly. “I’m here for my kid.”

“Oh…” Dean stumps as well. Then, he swallows thickly and gives her a nervous smile. “Hi, uhm, I’m Dean Winchester.”

“I know who you fucking are, you moron,” Lisa huffs, shaking her head. “You got me pregnant. Where’s Claire?” When neither Dean nor Y/N answer, Lisa rolls her eyes and waltzes past the two inside the house. “Claire!”

“Sure, come on in,” Dean mutters under his breath and shares a wide-eyed look with Y/N, hoping for some guidance.

The actress eyes him up and down, pensively licking her lips. “Maybe you should get dressed.”

With some pants and a shirt on, Dean and Y/N have retreated to the kitchen and sip quietly on their cups of coffee while Lisa and Claire scream at each other. It’s a classic mother and teenage daughter battle. Claire fights for freedom, while Lisa fights for control.

“I had sex with that woman seventeen years ago. Now she’s in my house, yelling at my kid,” the director voices his thoughts out loud, a hint of trepidation shimmering in his green eyes.

“Yup, life has a way of catching up with you. Kinda learned that this year,” Y/N notes with pursed lips and sends him a smile. “But hey, they’re your family now. Kinda nice, right?”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking,” Dean huffs with a bitter look and watches Y/N place her mug in the sink.

“I should probably go. Leave you guys to figure this out,” Y/N announces, one hop on a healthy foot away from walking out the door. “I’ll call a cab.”

“No, don’t! You can’t leave me here alone with them,” Dean pleads, the sheer panic and desperation visible in his eyes and audible in his voice. His gaze bores into her. “C’mon, I need you. This is one of those, you know, friendship moments. Like abortions and getting over coke addictions.”

Y/N lets out a small sigh. How could she leave him after everything he’s done for her? She basically has no choice but to stay and help him through this. “What d’you want me to do? Mediate?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Dean shrugs helplessly. “I just know I’m gonna say all the wrong shit at the wrong time. Please. I don’t wanna lose my kid. Help me.”

As she catches his gaze, there’s that inexplicable feeling creeping through her veins again. This time, it even tugs on her heart.

“Okay, uhm, alright. I’ll stay,” she promises him, offering him a small smile of comfort.

Unbeknownst to her, though, Dean comes close to saying the three ominous words once more. It’s getting harder every day to keep them inside. How long does he have until he bursts? He feels like a ticking time bomb.

“Maybe we should all sit down and talk?” Y/N suggests as soon as Claire has stormed into her room and slammed the door in upset.

“About what?” Lisa barks, half-annoyed as she rests her hands on her squared-off hips. “She’s been lying to me for months.”

“Okay, in my defense, she told me you were crazy,” Dean explains with an innocent shrug.

“I don’t care if she told you I beat her and locked her into the basement. If a kid has run away from home, you call their mother,” Lisa retorts furiously.

Dean purses his lips in defeat for a moment, especially when Y/N seems to agree. She’s kind of his moral compass, but he’s not ready to accept his loss yet. “Well, you didn’t call me to tell me you were having a kid. My kid,” he argues and knows it’ll probably backfire. He can tell by Y/N’s frown.

“Oh, excuse me for not calling the guy who didn’t stay for breakfast,” Lisa counters with an eye roll.

Dean’s brow furrows, shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s what happened.” Granted, he’s been high for two decades now.

“I asked if you wanted pancakes. You said, ‘No, thanks, but that was fun.’ And then you got into your car and bolted, never to be seen again,” Lisa recalls, frowning.

“Uhm, that sounds like it was a long time ago,” Y/N interjects in his defense, chuckling nervously. “He’s a different and more mature person now.”

Dean’s heart swells to twice its size. It’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about him. Although, he can tell she only said it to win Lisa over. She’s a good actress, making even him believe her words. But she’s helping him, so it’s the thought that counts.

“Thanks for the input. Who are you again? Are you his fucking maid?” Lisa arches a brow at her, eyeing her up and down.

“No, she’s not my maid,” Dean replies fiercely but then doesn’t know what else to say. Girlfriend? Lover? Friend? Nothing sounds right. “She’s my, uhm, she’s my actress. She’s my… You know, she’s… She’s Y/N.”

At that, Y/N’s brow draws together in the middle with a tilt of her head. Dean surmises that answer probably sounded even weirder.

“Yeah, I can see you’ve changed so much.” Lisa scoffs sarcastically and folds her arms over her chest, her patience running low.

Y/N subtly clears her throat, deciding to step in. God knows the director needs all the help he can get. “Okay, uhm, it doesn’t really matter who I am,” she says and shares a look with Dean, who anxiously chews his bottom lip raw. “What matters is that Dean has really connected with Claire over the last few months. He’s enrolled her in high school, she has joined AV club, she’s got a really nice and sweet boyfriend.” Dean grimaces at that last part, but Y/N skillfully ignores it and continues, “They’re going to Winter Formal tonight.”

“Yeah, I’m chaperoning,” Dean announces proudly. “This dance is very meaningful to her.”

Lisa snorts a laugh, clearly amused. “My kid does not go to dances.”

“Yes, I do!” Claire suddenly stands in the middle of the living room with the brightest smile. It’s freaky, really. She gleefully holds up the two dresses Y/N brought over last night, feigning her excitement. “Which one should I wear?”

Lisa and Dean disagree on the dress choice, but when Y/N sides with Lisa, Claire takes the hint and quickly disappears back into her room.

“It’s just one night, and it will give you two some time to catch up. Figure this out,” Y/N advocates suggestively.

“Yeah, what she said,” Dean agrees and clears his dry throat, wishing he had a bottle of booze in his hand to calm his nerves. Man, in stressful situations like these, he does miss coke sometimes. But fucking Y/N has been a great substitute, so maybe he’ll just do that as soon as that crazy woman leaves his house again. “Look, I get that you’re angry. But I’m really trying here, okay? She’s doing great at school, I gave her a curfew… I wanna make up for lost time,” he explains sincerely. Y/N sends him a proud smile.

“Fine, one night, but tomorrow we’re leaving,” Lisa relents with a sigh. “I’m not gonna indulge this fucking father-daughter fantasy,” she huffs and then finally storms out of the house.

Y/N exhales a long sigh of relief. “Well, that went better than expected.”

“You think?” Dean checks insecurely. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done if Y/N hadn’t been here to support him. “You’re coming tonight, right?”

Surprised by the request, Y/N’s brow meets her hairline. “You want me to go to your daughter’s Winter Formal with you?”

“Yes, obviously,” Dean states matter-of-factly and blinks at her. “You can’t leave me alone with that woman.”

Y/N heaves another sigh as she looks at him. “Okay, fine,” she surrenders.

Sitting on the bleachers of a fully decorated gym, Y/N realizes she has kind of missed high school. At least, everything used to be much simpler back then. Your crush would ask you to go steady, you’d say yes or no, and then you’d be broken up shortly after prom.

Adulthood is complicated. People are complicated. And love is goddamn unfathomably complicated.

“It’s so weird seeing her with her first high school boyfriend,” Lisa notes with a small sigh next to her. “I still remember her drawing with crayons. Now, she’s running miles away, lying, and making out with a boy.”

“Yeah, teenage romance is a lot more intense,” Y/N says, chuckling softly.

“She won’t wear a dress to my wedding. Refused to. Screamed bloody murder,” Lisa says thoughtfully. “But after spending a few months with her estranged father, she suddenly puts one on.”

“People are complicated,” Y/N reiterates her earlier sentiment.

Claire is complicated. Dean is complicated. And Y/N? She might be the most complicated of all.

“My fiancé is not,” Lisa says, a delicate smile playing across her lips. It’s enough to show her happiness. “I always used to date these guys that would run so hot and then completely cold the next minute. I never knew where I stood. It was exhausting.”

“Yeah, I get it…”

Y/N’s eyes drift to Dean as he chats with one of the other dads by the buffet. She doesn’t know what the director wants from her. She doesn’t know what their relationship even is. One minute, it feels epic, like a love so legendary it should only exist on the silver screen. And the next minute, it feels trivial, like it should’ve never existed at all.

But Dean’s not the problem. Deep down, she knows what that creeping feeling in the pits of her stomach is. And she knows she’s not ready for it. Truth is, Y/N has no idea what she wants and feels lost. Because if she admits one thing, it’d mean the end of another. If she stays in LA for a guy, what would that mean for her career? She doesn’t want to end up like Jo. She’s finally about to have it all, only to realize both at the same time are a mere dream.

And worst of all, even if she did know what she wanted, she’s doesn’t know if she deserves it.

“So, what d’you do, son?” an older man next to Dean asks. He’s already balding and gray, as is the scruffy beard he’s sporting. His suit jacket with a name tag that reads “Chaperone” looks a little worn and sleazy, too. The director figured he’d be one of the oldest dads here, so this guy comes as a pleasant surprise.

“I’m a director of a women’s wrestling show,” Dean replies and takes a sip from the fruit punch. None of the kids have spiked it yet, which is quite the disappointment. What’s happening to today’s youth, huh? “And you?”

“Oh, nice.” The man nods with a smile and pulls out a business card from his suit jacket, handing it to Dean. “Bobby Singer. I own a small chain of strip clubs, although my wife Ellen would probably like me to tell you I’m a small business owner.”

“Got it.” Dean chuckles and glances at the card in his hands. “Bobby’s Body Shop. Oh, hey, I know this one! ‘Where the girls are hotter than the asphalt,’” he quotes the club’s tagline proudly, grinning. “I’m there all the time! Actually got one of your girls in my show.”

Bobby chuckles. “Well, next time you’re there, ask for me. I’ll get you a discount.”

“Thanks.” Dean smirks. And Cas claims you can only network on the fucking golf course. “Oh, hey, you should catch one of our shows. It’s our last one this week. It’s pretty badass. We’re over at the old gym in Watts.”

“Alright, I’ll see you there,” Bobby says with a smile.

Dean’s eyes then drift to Y/N on the bleachers. Last time he checked on her, she was still chatting with Lisa, but the brunette has since left. And as he glances at her now, Y/N has found herself encircled by a group of horny teenage boys, causing his brows to draw together and meet in the middle. They’re like fucking vultures.

“Shoo!” Dean barks sternly at the young men as he approaches the group and watches them scurry away with their tails tugged between their scrawny legs.

With an amused smile, Y/N arches an eyebrow at him. “Glad you’ve decided to join me. It was getting crowded. I’ve turned down about twenty offers to dance.”

“Look at you, you little heartbreaking cougar,” Dean retorts with a teasing smile. “You’re gonna turn me down, too?”

“I have a broken ankle. Did you forget that part? I can’t dance,” Y/N replies.

“Oh, c’mon, that never stopped you before. ‘Sides, I’ve got two working legs and can’t dance, either. So, what d’you say, huh?” Dean holds out his hands for her to grasp.

“Fine,” Y/N relents and grabs his hands, hopping to her feet. “Let’s do some awkward swaying.”

“That’s the spirit.” Dean laughs and rests his palms on her hips, helping her stand as she locks her arms around his neck.

“Is that what you had in mind?” Y/N asks teasingly as she looks up and meets his gaze.

“Kinda.” Dean dips his head and catches her lips, deepening the kiss with his tongue slipping inside her mouth.

“Dean,” she scolds him softly with blushed cheeks and a giggle that surely won’t keep him from doing shit. “There’s people here. Teenagers.”

“So? It’s nothing they wouldn’t do,” Dean remarks mischievously. “And no one’s here that we know. Claire’s caught us like a million times already, and Lisa doesn’t care. C’mon, we never get to do those things in public,” he appeals with a wiggle of his brows.

“Alright,” Y/N surrenders with a small sigh and a smile, tiptoeing up on one foot to press her soft lips back on his. She feels him breath into the kiss, cherishing every second of it. His hands wander from her hips to cup her cheeks, causing her to almost topple over as he forgets that he’s been steadying her. “Whoa, Dean!”

Her giggle interrupts the kiss as she tightens her grip around his neck before he moves his hands back to their place on her hips, offering her support again. She leans her head against his chest, and he rests his chin on her crown.

“Sorry, got carried away there for a moment,” he apologizes with a snicker, pecking the top of her head gently.

“Yeah, that happens with you sometimes,” she teases and buries her head deeper into his shirt. “Your heart’s beating really fast. Are you on something again?”

Dean wants to say it’s love, but that sounds too fucking cheesy.

“Nope, still clean,” he replies instead and doesn’t take offense in her question. “Just nerves, I guess. There’s something I wanna tell you,” he says and licks his lips, swallowing thickly.

Y/N looks up and finds his green eyes, her brow knitting in curiosity. But there’s a perceptive shimmer in her orbs, and Dean knows she can already anticipate what’s coming next. Judging by her shift in weight, he can tell she doesn’t want him to say it out loud.

“Shit, uhm…” She squeezes her eyes shut and fumbles for an excuse. Dean gives her a plethora of time to find a believable one. “I have to go. I promised the girls we’d work out a plot for the finale together tonight, celebrate our last week.”

Dean’s lips quiver but manage to find a smile. “You sure?”

Reluctantly, Y/N still nods and lets out a tense breath. “Yeah.”

It feels like dancing around a big, pink elephant between them. Both of them pretend it’s invisible, although it’s painfully not. It’s even roaring or hooting or whatever the fuck elephants do.

“Alright, I’ll drive you to the motel,” Dean capitulates with a resigned nod.

“No, uh, stay,” she tells him and clumsily hops back to the bleachers to grab her crutches. “I’ll get a cab. You should spend your night with Claire. Figure things out with Lisa.”

“Okay,” Dean caves once more but then grabs hold of her, pulling her to his lips. The kiss is fervent and heated and desperate. So fucking desperate. “One for the road,” he says with a painful smile as he draws back. He doesn’t want to admit that it might be the last one they have shared.

Y/N’s look tells him she feels the finality, too. It’s the epilogue of the best book he’s ever read. The end credits of his favorite movie. The final episode of a show he loved.

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly with a hesitant lip bite and a harrowing swallow.

“Don’t be. Have fun, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dean says and sends her one last weak smile before he watches her walk away with an aching heart.

24. Don't Dream It's Over

Honestly, even my cold, cold heart weeped at the end there. Poor Dean 😢💔 But as you can guess from next week's title, we're not done yet 😉

TAGS:

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus

Everything Dean: @SnowAyumi

[wordsofelie]

Chapter 7

🌅Don’t you dare runaway (A Phoenix and Ashes Sequel)

Miya Osamu x f!reader

Summary: Miya Osamu thinks some things will never change— Atsumu will always be annoying; his Ma’s food will always be the best and you will always be his favourite sunrise.

Content Warnings: Timeskip Setting, Manga Spoilers, ex!Suna, Swearing, Alcohol Consumption, Mention of Sex Scenes (No Description)

Words count: 5.4k

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 8

“How’s Tokyo?”

It’s only a few words, barely a full sentence. However, it took Osamu a whole fifteen minutes to write and almost a face-first collision with the glass door of Tokozu, his favourite kitchen knife store in Osaka. The man found the exercise harder than any literature essay he ever had to do in high school (and Osamu, despite being named after a famous novelist, was never fond of literature). But now, the message is sent and there’s no going back.

His meditation instructor as well as one red-haired hitter, told him he should stop overthinking, and for the last month, Osamu thinks he did a good job at calming his stormy mind. But it’s different now, you’ve been in Tokyo for three days (or what feels like six months, at least to him), and apart from the message to ask you if you arrived safely (which you did), Osamu hasn’t contacted you in 72h. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, but he just needs to give space. He told you how he feels, exposed his fragile heart to you, and now what you do with it is your decision and yours only.

Still, Osamu wants to act casual like before (and also shows that he cares), something he hasn’t been good at for the past months. You miss the old Osamu, the friend you could always rely on, the one who wouldn’t mind letting food burn on the stove if you needed him. Maybe it’s time for that man to come back.

Thus, this morning, as he strolls through the streets of Osaka, heading to the store, he sends you those few words.

“Good morning, Sir,” a forty-year-old something greets him when he enters. “May I help you with something?”

Osamu’s eyes wander all around the shelves before describing what he is looking for.

“There’s a couple of knives that could meet your requirements.” The man starts showing him various options when Osamu’s phone buzzes in his pocket.

It’s you.

The younger man excuses himself and runs towards the exit. He waits two or three rings before answering.

“Hey,” he says, clearing his throat.

“Osamu,” you tell his name, his heart skips a beat (or a thousand). “How are you? Is this a good time to call?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I was just in town to buy a new knife for the fish.”

“Oh, maybe I should call later then-”

“No!” He cuts you off, someone passing by is startled by his sudden outburst. He avoids their gaze, “It’s fine now. So… how have ya been?”

“I’m great,” you reply, and he can hear the excitement in your voice, “I love it here. The JVA offices are in that huge building in Omiya, and everyone is wearing suits and there’s even a bakery on the ground floor, so I usually take something there and go to the park. I can’t wait for the cherry blossoms to bloom, it’s gonna be beautiful. And I need to take you to the bakery, you’d love the cannelés.”

Osamu holds back his laughter at your French accent, cute, he thinks.

“There’s already a communication team,” you continue, “everyone is so kind and to be able to discuss my ideas with everyone is such a cool thing. Don’t get me wrong, I love working with the Jackals but…well, the guys aren’t the best at giving advice when it comes to their social media. Except for your brother, actually.”

“I’m glad,” Osamu says with a soft voice.

“And Kuroo is amazing to work with and he’s actually kinda funny sometimes, but he has that weird laugh-anyway, I think he likes my work… But that doesn’t mean he's going to keep me on after my trial period.”

Osamu is relieved, happy even, that you’re enjoying your life there, but when he is about to express it, the words get stuck in his throat and no sound leaves his lips.

There’s a silence following your story, and you’re the one who breaks it. “I’m coming back in two days.”

“And I’ll be there.”

“Also… in three weeks or something, the National Team is having their last public practice match before the Olympics and it’s in Osaka, are you going to install a stall at the gym?”

“Yeah, I will. Ya know how the guys will react if I don’t.”

You chuckle, probably picturing some very disappointed—and hungry— Atsumu, Bokuto and Hinata (and Meian, though he’d tried to keep a straight face since he has the role of captain to uphold). “Cool, then, I’ll be there.”

“That’s my line.”

You offer him a genuine laugh and a warm feeling spreads through his stomach, which stays even after the call ends.

Two more days. Osamu counts in his head.

He takes a deep breath and enters the shop for the second time, this time being careful with not banging his face into the glass door.

“Can’t ya just stop movin’, please?” Atsumu begs and a sound comes out of his throat, something between a sigh and a groan. 

But his demand doesn’t seem to reach his brother’s ears—even though he said “please”, ‘Samu, ya spoiled brat—as said brother continues to pace like a caged animal in their cramped living room.

“I’m goin’ now.” Osamu finally announces.

“Gosh,” The setter rolls his eyes, “her train arrives in two hours.”

“What if there’s traffic on the way?”

“Ya know what? Just leave, yer so damn annoyin’ right now.”

“Moron,” Osamu exclaims, slamming the door on its way out.

It’s too late for Atsumu to say more than just an offended, “Oi!” since his twin already left the apartment.

There’s no traffic on the way and Osamu is forced to wait for you—though it doesn’t matter how long he must wait; if he had to endure a lifetime of longing just to see you again, he would agree in a blink of an eye.

The only bad thing is that time passes very slowly, and it makes him think over and over again about what might happen.

And the conclusion he comes up with is that two paths are unfolding before him: whether the kiss you shared on the doorframe of your apartment is the last remnant of what could have been, or perhaps the first tender step toward something beautiful. Maybe in a few minutes, he’ll have to pretend nothing happened and go back to being friends or stop hiding his feelings and share them with the world.

When you emerge from the station, your blue scarf sticking out of your bag since the weather has warmed up delicately in the last five days, Osamu feels the rhythm of his heart quickening.

You greet each other, get back in the car, and he starts driving.

One second after the other, even though you’re there now, he keeps waiting.

The silence is heavy but somehow it doesn’t cloud his thoughts. Osamu could be analysing each single one of your moves (you scratch your nails, you keep looking at your phone even if you don’t receive any notification), your expressions (you didn’t meet his eyes when you arrived, your smile is tense), but he doesn’t because he has learned better than to attempt to assume how you feel; it only leads to chaos. The man has no control over this situation and whatever happens, he’ll accept it. Nothing matters more than yielding to your choices. Break his heart, move to Tokyo, sever ties forever (please don’t)—he’ll endure it all if it means your happiness.

“Thank you for coming.” You finally say gently.  

 “Sure.” He waits and after a moment of hesitation, adds, “Ya know… I’ve been waitin’ to see ya.”

There’s a pause, the kind that stretches just long enough to create a knot in his chest.

“You have?” You ask, your voice quiet, unsure.

“Yeah,” he admits, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. If you’re about to turn him down, at least, he needs to be honest one more time. “Been thinkin' about ya all day. All week, actually.”

He laughs, a bit too awkwardly, trying to play it off. “Can I say that? Don’t wanna make ya uncomfortable but I guess I’m just really bad at actin' casual, huh?”

Your soft chuckle makes his heart race all over again. “Not as bad as you think, Osamu. I’m happy if we can talk openly to each other without being afraid of what the other thinks. That’s what we used to do.” You clear your throat, “And actually, there’s something I need to tell you.”

There it is, he thinks, the opening he’s been waiting for. He decides to pull over to the side of the road since you almost made it to your place. He licks his lips nervously before turning to you, your eyes don’t meet his when you speak again.

“So… I’ve been thinking. I wanted to have that conversation with you later, not in the car like that, but like you said, it’s hard to act casual…Listen, Osamu.” You finally turn to your right, to him.

Osamu thought he could know how you’re feeling just by seeing the look on your face but right now he is unsure. It’s exciting to know there’s still so much to learn about you, but also threatening because he can’t anticipate your next words and it’s suffocating.

“You’re the kindest person I know, you’re funny and you’re reliable and there’s no one in this entire world, and please don’t tell Umi, with whom I feel so at ease. I’ve never really been into stuff like soulmates you know, even with Rin, I believed he was the love of my life, and it turned out I was wrong. But with you it’s different, it’s like the universe has led me to you. That fact will never change, whatever we … become.” Your voice falters, “But… I made so many sacrifices for Rin, and I don’t regret them, they made me who I am now, but I promised myself I would never do such things again… Yet, I was in my hotel room in Tokyo, finally finding my dream job and loving the team, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About how I wanted to be with you in Osaka, how I wanted to kiss you again… I feel so weak Osamu ‘cause I love you too. I do want us to be together but not like that. I can’t miss this opportunity. If I stay in Osaka, I will resent myself for not choosing my dream and if I leave for Tokyo, I know I’ll regret not being with you… But I have to make a choice.”

“Can’t ya have both? Me and Tokyo?”

You sigh before looking down at your lap. Osamu thinks he saw your eyes getting wet, “I wish I could, but you know how I feel about distance relationships.”

Of course, he knows; he was there when you suffered through the distance that separated you from your first love years ago and how it led to a heartbreak.

“What if I come with y-”

“Don’t even think about it, Osamu. I am not following my dream for you to give up yours.” Your voice is firm, but there’s a hint of pain behind your words. “I swear I thought about all the options because I know you’re right for me… but there’s nothing we can do about it.”

Osamu was convinced there were only two paths, one where you love him, one where you don’t. But what if there is a third option? What if you love him but fear getting hurt?

It’s not that she doesn’t like you, she’s just afraid, Umi told him. He recalls precisely the moment your best friend pronounced those words to him.

There’s hope. Osamu has to hold on to it.  

“Give me one month.”

“Huh?” Your brow furrows in confusion.

“I’ll find a solution, I’ll make it work, I promise.”

“Osamu,” you sigh again, this time it sounds desperate, perhaps frustrated, “this is not some sort of romantic movie, this is real life.”

“I know that, and I’ll find a real solution.”

“What if you don’t find the solution after that month? I know how heartbreaks feel like Osamu, this is only going to hurt you and-”

“Nothing can hurt me more than runnin’ away when I could have tried making it work.”

There’s something in your eyes that shines behind your closed face and clenched jaw.

The atmosphere changes in the car, maybe because of the night falling, or maybe because of something else.

“When we were first years, we weren’t in the same class, but at the sports festival, we were put on the same team for the relay.” You start recalling, the sudden shift in topic catches him off guard, but he lets you continue anyway.

“Umi wasn’t in my team, and I was already not motivated to run the race, especially in front of everyone but it got worse when I was put before you. Can you imagine me, giving the stick to Miya Osamu? You were popular, girls loved you, boys admired you, and I was no one. Sure, I could run fast but I didn’t care about winning that damn event. I guess… the only things I cared about were having Rin looking at me and not tripping in front of your fangirls. But on the day of the festivals, do you remember what you told me?”

He shakes his head. You were always better at remembering stuff.

“You said ‘Trust me, just do your thing and I’ll make it work’. I trusted you; I did what I had to do, and we won.”

You cover your face with your hands abruptly and grumble, “Fuck, I really thought I made up my mind but…” Then, you take a long inspiration before looking at him again. Your eyes pierce his soul, find him where he is the most vulnerable, but also the most in love, “If I trust you one more time… Can you promise you’ll not let me down?”

“I’d do anything for ya to give me a chance.”

He says your name as he promises. There’s something obvious in your eyes when you look at each other, it’s not just hope that Osamu feels, it’s certain and deep. As if nothing could come between you.

You break the distance.

The kiss is softer than the last one. Osamu tries to take his time to appreciate the taste of your lips and the feeling your tongue leaves on his.

No need to rush, he knows it’s the first kiss of a long series (whether it lasts a month or a hundred years).

You pull back with a smile, “Oh, by the way, I have not forgotten that you owe me an explanation for all the times you ignore me. And you better hear what I have to say to you on that matter because you sure hurt me. It might take hours for me to tell you how bad you made me feel.”

“And I’d listen for hours.”

“You’re such a smooth talker.” You chuckle and open the passenger door, “Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow ‘Samu.”

“Huh?” He raises an eyebrow, “That’s what my brother calls me, can’t ya find something else like my lov-”

“Shut up you idiot, I’m not ready for that yet.”

“Whatever you want, I’ll submit.” He teases and his grin is both sincere and charming, it makes you lift your eyes in the air.

You laugh one more time before getting out, “sweet dreams.”

He bids you goodnight in return.

Things go well.

You try to see each other often. Now that Osamu has his Sundays free, he makes the most of them to take you on dates. In the evening, you cook dinner at home and in the morning, you stop by Onigiri Miya to get the bento he prepared for you. You always thank him with a kiss on the lips, a caress on the cheeks and sometimes the make out session gets a little bit out of hand. One day, despite your complaints about how you might get caught, Osamu doesn’t stop until Sato and Nagisa enter the shop (“Oops, didn’t mean to interrupt”, one of them say and Osamu tells you later how they kept on teasing him all day long. “It’s only yer fault though”, he exclaims, “yer too pretty.” And you push him on the chest, your cheeks turning red and your smile wide.)

You receive an email from Kuroo one Tuesday night, with a contract attached to it, waiting to be filled with your signature.

It’s hard to hide your smile, “I got the job.”

Osamu jumps from his chair to yours and kisses you, “I expected no less from my Champion.”

You open your mouth to say something and your boyfriend notices how your bite your lips. The long-distance relationship is starting now, that’s probably what you’re about to say, but Osamu doesn’t want to lose this moment thinking about what’s coming after, so he goes through your kitchen’s cupboards and gets a bottle of sake.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“We have somethin’ to celebrate, don’t we?” His boyish smile makes your heart melt, and you nod.

“Let’s go to Tokyo tomorrow to look for an apartment.” He proposes later.

Your brows knit together, “but your restaurant…”

“I can close it.”

Osamu looks at you with the determined eyes you thought he had lost. It’s confident and calm at the same time, it’s kind, and so particularly him. It’s the same look he had when you won the relay a decade ago, when he told you he got your back during your heartbreak, and when he swore he’d do anything to be with you.

This time, you're the one who kisses him, and you taste of sake. His hands find the skin of your lower back and the man wonders how he could have missed out on something so soft all these years. Maybe it’s the alcohol but his mind becomes intoxicated, still, it feels good, and the next second he lifts you to lead you to the bedroom.

The next morning, your head hurts—and so do your muscles—but Osamu makes sure to cover every inch of your body with kisses as an apology (to which you don’t complain).

Finding an apartment in Tokyo is a drag at first. Between the too high-priced single-rooms and the over-demanding landlords, your energy is drained at the end of the day.

“I’ll never be able to find something…” You whine.

“Hey,” Osamu flicks your forehead lightly, “don’t say that it’s only the first day. Let’s find an hotel for tonight and we'll continue tomorrow.”

“What about Onigiri Miya?”

“Sato and Nagisa can manage.”

“Thank you, Osamu, you’re the best. Oh, what’s Sato’s first name by the way?”

“I forgot,” Osamu gets up from the bench where you were both sat and starts walking. You don’t ask for more.

Eventually, Osamu gets back to Osaka the next day because “Osamu-san, we’re running out of spicy sauce, what’s the recipe again? I tried something but it tastes like-”, “Like shit.”, “Oi! Rin don’t say that.” And even though he loves helping you, he must admit he misses being in the kitchen.

Your apartment hunt ends up with a last-minute offer for a one-bedroom place near your office and with a view on the park.

“Yer kitchen is better than mine,” Osamu clicks his tongue.

“That gives you a good reason to come visit me.”

“I’m thinkin’ about more than just one reason to visit ya.”

“You pervert,” you tease, and he tries to defend himself, but it’s probably a lost cause, for deep down, Osamu knows you’re right.

So yes, three weeks pass, and things go pretty well between you two.

It's been a week since he last saw you, though you FaceTime every evening—both to tell him about your day and to show him the first pieces of decoration you've put up; a few flowerpots, two cups on the counter (one for him, one for you), and a framed picture of you and Umi.

And today is the National Team last public practice match, so it means Osamu gets to finally see you in person (yesss, he mumbles when rolls out of bed at dawn.)

The match starts at 1 p.m., the crowd is expected at noon, and Osamu spends the late morning setting up his onigiri stall in the gym’s hall. His hands move automatically as he arranges the ingredients and checks his prep. He tries to focus on his routine because his mind is far from calm.  Sure, he is happy to see you but he knows you’re also waiting for the “real solution” to overcome the distance. But Osamu hasn’t found it yet, not even when you packed your bags and moved in Tokyo officially.Time is running out.

Nagisa probably noticed the somehow stressed mood of his boss and finds himself even more careful than he usual is.

“Can I have one… Ginger chicken onigiri please?”

Nagisa greets you respectfully and Osamu immediately turns to where you stand with widen eyes as if he wasn’t expecting you.

“Hi,” you say.

“Hey.” He replies back and the man has to fight the stupid grin tugging at his lips. “Just give me a second.”

Osamu hands you your order, “Enjoy.”

“Those are new, huh?”

“Yeah, for the Spring Menu.” He explains, trying to keep his cool, but his smile sneaks through.

“I can’t wait to try then,” You smile back, your eyes meeting his. He could stand there all day, just soaking in this moment. But he’s working and you have a volleyball match to attend.

“Well, I’m gonna join Kita-san now. And also-” you glance behind you at the growing line. “Don’t wanna hold up the queue.”

Before he can even think of a reply, you wave and step away. He watches as you walk toward where Kita is waiting and both disappear in the stands. His heart warms at the sight.

The hours pass as the match begins, Osamu and Nagisa catch glimpses of the game through the screens scattered around the hall. Atsumu starts the first set, naturally, and Osamu can't help but grumble to himself when his brother is swapped out for Kageyama in the second. By the time his twin closes the final set with a signature service ace, Osamu rolls his eyes, already dreading the inevitable rambling about it later tonight.

“Atsumu-san is amazing,” Nagisa says and his eyes shine at the screen.

“Well, keep that for yerself please.” Osamu straightens up and starts packing up his stall.

The crowd begins to disperse, he can hear it from a distance. He’s just about ready to close up when a familiar face appears, slightly out of breath.

“Are you still open?” one Akaashi Keiji says with a sheepish smile.

Osamu simply remarks that he’s always open for his best client, and it makes Akaashi even more embarrassed. “That’s very considerate of you Miya-san. Sorry I didn’t come by earlier. I arrived late.”

“No problem,” Osamu replies, handing him his usual set of onigiri. “Yer favorite as always.”

Akaashi accepts the food, then hesitates before speaking. “There’s a new onigiri shop near my workplace, you know. I gave it a try, but... well, they don’t come close to yours.”

Osamu chuckles. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

“But don’t worry, Miya-san,” Akaashi continues, putting his glasses back on, “I’m not going to try to convince you to open a shop in Tokyo this time. I learned my lesson. Besides, you’re probably already too busy with your current restaurant.”

Osamu opens his mouth to speak but no sound comes out of it. Instead, his mind goes blank, and a cloud makes his brain unable to think. But not in an oppressive way, no, this time the cloud is light and pleasant.

Something seems to click inside him, as if a thought that has been buried suddenly rises to the surface. He’s always brushed off the idea of expanding, but now... maybe it’s time to stop putting things aside. His decision comes in a flash, and before he can second-guess it, he’s calling out to his part-time employee.

“Hey, Nagisa! Can ya finish up closin’ the stall? I gotta go.”

Without waiting for an answer, Osamu takes off, scanning the crowd for you. He spots you near the exit, chatting with a few familiar faces. His heart beats faster as he approaches.

He says your name, “Can we talk?”

You raise an eyebrow, but you nod, leading him to a quieter spot—the room where you used to work as the Jackals’ communication manager.

“So,” you begin, crossing your arms as you turn to face him. “What’s going on?”

Osamu takes a deep breath. “I’ve been thinkin’... ‘bout how I can make this work.”

“Make what work?”

“Us.” The word feels huge, but it’s the only thing that matters right now. “I’ve decided... I’m gonna open a shop in Tokyo.”

Your eyes widen, clearly taken aback. “Wait, what?”

“I’ll expand,” Osamu says, his voice is firm. “I’ll open a shop in Tokyo, so we don’t have to do this long-distance thing. I want to be with ya. There are a lot of things I need to think about like findin’ the right place and hirin’ new people, it might take a little bit of time but I have the cash, and I know it’s gonna be alright. Can ya trust me on this?”

The last question is said with more softness, maybe with a bit of fear. But there’s still this determination in his eyes that you love so much.

You seem to process his words for a moment, and he holds his breath, waiting for your reaction. Then, slowly, a smile spreads across your face. Without warning, you throw your arms around him, and he catches you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Of course, I trust you,” you whisper against his shoulder and Osamu feels a shiver running down his spine.

“Honestly…” he speaks again, “I’m already pretty busy with the restaurant but maybe it’s time for the business to grow.”

“And I’ll be here for you. We’ll go through this together.”

Just as you’re about to kiss—something Osamu has been craving since you entered the venue—the door swings open.

Bokuto’s loud voice fills the room with your name, and both of you jump apart, startled.

“What-what’s going on here?” The outside hitter blurts out. His expression is one of shock, like a child who just caught their parents placing presents under the tree instead of Santa Claus.

“Are-are you…?” He points his finger at you, one after the other.

“We’re datin’.” Osamu replies first.

“But we want to keep it quiet for now,” you add, not noticing how Osamu’s brows furrow. Had ya mentioned this before? he wonders but keeps the question to himself. After all, it’s fine—it’s not like he was planning on going all loud and proud about your relationship like his brother would. Still, the thought lingers.

Bokuto grins, clapping his hands together. You’re both surprised by the change in his attitude (even though you should be used to Bokuto’s moody antics by now). “About time! Anyway, the team’s going out for drinks. You guys coming?”

You both nod. Once Bokuto disappears, you sneak a small kiss on the corner of his lips before opening the door again. He holds back a frustrated grunt—he wanted more, but who can blame him? After all, he’s a Miya; aiming for more is in his genes.

You find yourself sitting between your boyfriend and Bokuto in a busy izakaya. The room is loud, and it smells like fried meat and beers. For once, you're not the only girl at the table since some of the players' partners are here too. Osamu’s eyes keep drifting back to you, even while Komori is recounting some ridiculous story about how he saved Kiyoomi’s life when they were kids—which the younger cousin firmly denies. He listens, nodding politely, but his gaze betrays him as it keeps landing on you. You’re engaged in a conversation with Meian's fiancée, something about her upcoming wedding as Osamu picks up some words related to that topic.

“Oi, listen up!” Atsumu calls once all the drinks are served. He raises his glass. The chatter dies down, and all eyes turn to him. “First of all, congrats to the team on today's win. We smashed it, boys. Let’s keep it goin’, and we’ll do even better at the Olympics!” A round of cheers follows, glasses clinking together.

“And second, let’s give a round of applause to Shoyo-kun, who’s just signed a contract with Asas São Paulo! - Is that how ya say it? Anyway, I’m gonna miss settin’ to ya man, but ya truly deserve it.” Hinata grins, showing all his teeth, and rubs the back of his head as he thanks everyone.

“And finally,” Atsumu pauses dramatically and smirks, “I gotta congratulate Tobio-kun for his solid performance in the second set... even though I’m the one who finished the game off with that perfect serve.”

Kageyama, ever stoic, only bows his head slightly and mutters some “Thank you.”

Aran turns to Osamu, “Will yer brother ever be humble?”, his tone is both desperate and exasperated.

The older twin hears the remark and starts justifying his words, but it only creates a ripple of laughter all around the table.

Bokuto suddenly stands up, taking Atsumu’s role, with an unexpected serious face. “I’ve got something to say too,” he begins and raises his glass in your direction, before saying your name. “I wanna thank you for all the work you’ve done managing our social media for almost a year. You really helped us connect with our fans, and I just-”

Akaashi, sitting to Osamu’s right, leans over and whispers to your boyfriend, “But Kuroo-san told me she’s still managing the Jackals' social media, even if it’s not her main focus anymore.”

“I will.” You announce, high enough for Koutarou to hear. “I’m not completely leaving the Jackals.”

Sakusa sighs heavily. “We already know that. Bokuto’s just being dense as usual,” he mutters, rolling his eyes.

“Wait, you’re not leaving us?” Bokuto asks and his large amber eyes get glassy.

“No, I’ll still be around. I’ll be based in Tokyo most of the time, but I’ll come by every couple of months.” You smile at him gently.

Bokuto grins before sitting down with a long sigh of relief.

The next minute, he turns to you and Osamu. His eyes scan around and he drops his voice to a whisper, “So... you’ll be in a long-distance relationship?”

From under the table, Osamu squeezes your hand, and you return the gesture with a soft smile.

“Actually... I’ve been thinkin’ about openin’ a shop in Tokyo. It’s still just an idea, though, so let’s keep it between us for now.”

“Dude, that’s another secret I have to keep! But you can count on me.” He takes a sip of beer before adding, “Oh and I’m happy for you two.”

Osamu intertwines his fingers with yours, for the first time in a while it feels like everything is falling into place. As if he can finally exhale after holding his breath for so long, because nothing can come between you now.

He glances at you; you’re absolutely beautiful. It’s almost unfair how gorgeous you appear in his eyes. There’s so much he wishes to tell you right now, so many more touches he wants to share. The desire to be selfish takes over and he leans in. As he parts his lips to whisper that he loves you, Atsumu shouts.

“SUNARIN! So cool you made it!’

You drop his hand in a sharp, almost reflexive move.

Your knees no longer touch each other, a thin void is left where your shoulder was resting.

Suna strides into the izakaya. Osamu can’t help but look at you, as his former teammate approaches to greet everyone. You’re clearly troubled by the situation, and after all, it’s only normal. What Osamu doesn’t like though, is how your gaze is glued to your ex now and how all your attention is directed towards the middle blocker, instead of him.

He feels his lungs get smashed all over again.

Because just when he thought everything was finally settling, it hits him that perhaps, there’s still one more obstacle to overcome.

author notes: i hope you love roller coasters haha

i really enjoyed introducing new characters from haikyuu even though it's only for a small part of the chapter

did you guys love this chapter? (only 1 left btw)

sorry for the delay againnn

lots of love

taglist: @wolffmaiden, @teyvatsunsets, @obibiwan, @sugacor3, @sunahsvt, @iluv-ace, @cinnamonruts

[dismissivedestroyer]

Hi! So I want to make a Spooky Month OC but I suck at drawing, do you have any tips or advices about drawing characters in the Spooky Month artstyle?

Okay so, I might not be the right person for this, cause I also am not all that great at drawing in the Spooky Month artstyle, but I did some character design at school so I might be able to give a few tips! Please do take everything I say with a grain of salt tho!

Spooky Month's strong suit is definitely character design. It's SO expressive and well done it's genuinely unreal. You might want to know exactly what your character is gonna be doing, or how their personality is gonna be like, because character design in Spooky Month cares a lot about things like these. For example: Radford works at a cinema, so of course he's wearing 3D glasses, but also his HAIR IS LITERALLY SHAPED LIKE A POPCORN.

So maybe decide on a job for your character, and try to start from there, get crazy with shapes and have fun! Spooky Month characters have designs that are both extremely simple to draw, since they use mostly basic shapes, but also are extremely thought out and meaningful. Another example of great character design is Pump

Now, I have no idea if you already had an OC in mind, but make sure to choose the right shapes to represent it. Something I see around in the fandom is people making these OCs that are like, serial killers and dangerous people and stuff, but then give them the "Lila"-like oval head. And honestly, nothing wrong with that, that's a choice you can use! But still, shapes allow us to understand a lot about how a character is just by looking at them. So you might want to experiment around a bit!

Ovals in Spooky Month are the "good" shape, let's just say. Most character with an oval head are sweet, helpful, kind-natured! It's often paired with oval eyes, so it's mostly a shape that's used for not villainous characters.

Circles are a bit more complicated, because Spooky Month subvertes the Circle Characters. While yes, they're also used to draw children, such as Skid and Pump, so they may come off as unthreatening at first, most main villains, such as Eyes, Bob and Dexter Doll (which is meant to represent the likes of a child, so that's a nice contrast), are mostly circle-shaped.

There's a very wide range of Square characters in Spooky Month. Square characters are usually bulky, big and strong. They often come off as threatening (such as Moloch), but there are so many other fun things you can do with them. Like, take Frank. EVERYTHING in his design should alarm us, him being square-shaped, the black eyes, the wide smile. Yet, he has a shape of the eyes that's very relaxed and chill, so we end up trusting him. As for Dexter, he's a mix of circles and squares, so we can't really understand his intentions right away, because he's shaped in the most confusing way possible. He's just made to be unsettling and leaving us to wonder if he's a bad guy or just an oddball.

You can do SO MANY fun things by mixing up shapes of faces and eyes it's INSANE. Also, you can mix up other characters' features to create a new one, if you're planning to do a fankid or stuff like that. Look at Ross, he's literally a mixture of all his parents' features!

My main tips for drawing in the Spooky Month artstyle are mostly

1) Play around with shapes. Be as cartoony as possible.

2) Try to be consistent with proportions, because, based on personal experience, if you draw the pupils of the eyes slightly off it changes the whole character's expression drastically

3) don't worry too much about details, Spooky Month has a very simple artstyle. You don't have to draw a perfectly anatomically correct hand, just whip up some cartoony three-to-four fingers and you're good to go

4) try to redraw some pre-existing screenshots from the serie to get familiarity with the way Pelo draws expressions. It helps a bunch.

So yeah, that's all! Good luck with your oc :)

[pjo-tvs-version]

In honor of Annabeth Chase's birthday, I have written another fanfic. This one is based on @helpallthenamesaretakensblog 's post. It's another Annabeth POV because I just liked writing those. The title is from Taylor's Out of the Woods. Happy Reading!! :)

Your necklace hanging from my neck, the night we couldn’t quite forget

“Plans?” Hazel asked. “Nico has until sunset—at best. And this entire city is supposedly getting destroyed today.” I know that as a daughter of Athena I couldn't give in to the pleasure of ignorance. To escape from the harsh reality we were in. But Hazel saying the obvious out loud was definitely not helping my nerves.

Percy shook himself out of his daze. “You’re right. Annabeth…did you zero in on that spot from your bronze map?” Panic rose in me. I willed my eyes to convey this one message in bold: Remember what I said, buddy. Keep that dream to yourself. I have to answer the question nonetheless so I try to give as little information as possible. “Yes,” I say carefully. “It’s on the Tiber River. I think I can find it, but I should—” 

“Take me along,” Percy finished. What was seriously wrong with him today? I had tried to cajole him by giving so many logical reasons about why exactly he shouldn't be there. But knowing his irritating, endearing and loyal nature, he wasn't going to learn to accept this point easily. As bothersome it was, a small part of my heart was fluttering with happiness at his immense concern for me. Even though the odds of me surviving were… No Annabeth I chide myself, you will not think about this. So I decide to of course use the classic stare that overcomes any problem.

 “Yeah, you’re right.” I replied sprinkled with a deathly glare. “That’s not—” “Safe,” he supplied. “One demigod walking through Rome alone. I’ll go with you as far as the Tiber. We can use that letter of introduction, hopefully meet the river god Tiberinus. Maybe he can give you some help or advice. Then you can go on alone from there.”  Percy was making this impossible. I was finding it inevitable to leave everyone on Argo II as I went on to my death solo quest, but parting from Percy was going to be the hardest.

We had a silent staring contest, but Percy didn’t back down. Staring contests were better ways of dealing with a disagreement then words. It was far more expressive and impactful. But Percy didn't back down. As sweet as he was, his stubborn nature wasn't all that pleasing at times. He was making it hard to say goodbye. He was endangering his life once again for me when it wasn't required because the odds of me surviving were in negative. But as I stared into his eyes, there was determination. The same one I saw 3 years ago in Mt. Saint Helens. The same look on his face before I kissed him. I felt my gaze flicker.

“Fine,” I muttered, accepting defeat. “Hazel, now that we’re in Rome, do you think you can pinpoint Nico’s location?” Hazel blinked, as if coming out of a trance from watching our glare competition. “Um…hopefully, if I get close enough. I’ll have to walk around the city. Frank, would you come with me?” I could practically see Frank beaming. “Absolutely.” “And, uh…Leo,” Hazel added. “It might be a good idea if you came along too. The fish-centaurs said we’d need your help with something mechanical.” “Yeah,” Leo said, “no problem.” Frank’s smile turned into something more like Chrysaor’s mask. I was pretty good at reading people’s emotions so I could always feel the tension among those three. Ever since they’d gotten knocked into the Atlantic, they hadn’t acted quite the same. It wasn’t just the two guys competing for Hazel. It was like the three of them were locked together, acting out some kind of murder mystery, but they hadn’t yet discovered which of them was the victim. 

Piper drew her knife and set it on the rail. “Jason and I can watch the ship for now. I’ll see what Katoptris can show me. But, Hazel, if you guys get a fix on Nico’s location, don’t go in there by yourselves. Come back and get us. It’ll take all of us to fight the giants.” I knew she wasn't stating the most obvious fact that we had no god on our side so this was kind of a one sided battle. As much I craved for victory, I couldn’t help but go through the never ending list of reasons why we were never winning this battle. Think positive Annabeth, a little optimism couldn’t hurt right?

“Good idea,” Percy said. “How about we plan to meet back here at…what?” “Three this afternoon?” Jason suggested. “That’s probably the latest we could rendezvous and still hope to fight the giants and save Nico. If something happens to change the plan, try to send an Iris message.” The others nodded in agreement, but I could feel their gaze fall on me. At once I felt guilty of not telling them the whole creepy truth. That I would die most probably from facing the ultimate fear of every Athena child. I would have to face Ar-. Let’s not think about it.

I would be on a different schedule. I might be back at three, or much later, or never. But I would do whatever I can to find the Athena Parthenos. Coach Hedge grunted. “That’ll give me time to eat the coconuts—I mean dig the coconuts out of our hull. Percy, Annabeth…I don’t like you two going off on your own. Just remember: behave. If I hear about any funny business, I will ground you until the Styx freezes over.” Unwillingly, I felt myself flush. It was just one night of privacy in which we unfortunately just slept ( and had a few good kisses). However, the idea of getting grounded when we were about to risk their lives was so ridiculous, that I couldn’t help smiling. “We’ll be back soon,” Percy promised. I try to look at each of them and shake the dreadful feeling that this will be the last time I would see them together.

I headed down to my cabin to check and recheck my shoulder bag. Ambrosia, nectar, flashlight, matchboxes (it was something my father suggested), 2 bottles of water, a sandwich, drachmas and then came across a picture of me and Percy. It was a photo of us after we had started dating, one which Sally clicked. 

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. From the rhythm, I knew who the intruder/visitor was. “May I come in Wise Girl?” “ No you can’t” I reply, laced with sarcasm. The handle clicks open and I see Percy fidget more than usual with his hands. “I wanted to check on you” there was a pause and then, “wanted to make sure you were alright and ready for…” He didn’t complete his sentence. 

“Yeah, yeah I'm ready. I have checked, rechecked and checked again.” I replied. “You do remember to keep Ambrosia and Nectar right? And drachmas and first aid and-” “Yeah Seaweed Brain! Chill.” He was so concerned and anxious that I felt bad for him. But he needed to understand that he had to let go as there was no option B. If he went then Arch- no I would call her a Web-Weaving Wannabe. So if he went with me, she would most probably use him as bait and make my emotions go haywire and then I would make mistakes, fail to save Greece, fail to save the world-“Okay cool. So are you ready to go? The others are about to leave.” Percy says, interrupting my thoughts. “Yeah, let's go” I replied. 

“Before that I wanted to give you something.” Percy adds with a note of jitteriness. His fidgeting had increased. So of course my anxiety being directly proportional started going overboard too. He reached behind his neck, for his camp necklace. It puzzled me. Why is he taking off his camp necklace? And then it came crashing on me. 5 years ago, the duel on the beach with Ares, the good old days where their chances of dying were lesser. Percy was giving his necklace to me? As I was going to my death battle the same way Percy did 5 years ago? He was doing the same thing I did. 

A wave of euphoria washed over me. My heart felt like it could burst with happiness. He really was such a Seaweed Brain.  My cute Seaweed Brain who couldn't stand seeing anyone in trouble. He took a few steps forward and I could see the matching blush on his cheeks. He tied it around my neck and I couldn’t help but beam. “Wear this, for good luck. It saved my life when I dueled with Ares and everything after that too. I know it’ll help you too. "he said as he finished the knot. He then held my hand a little tighter than usual. I couldn't help but hug him fiercely. 

I took in his inky mess of hair, the sadness in his sea green eyes which mirrored the stormy sea, the smile that played on his lips for a moment and  then dissolved like a wave on the shore. I couldn’t help but lean for a kiss. A kiss that lingered, a desperate attempt to hold onto what was slipping away. A goodbye kiss, laced with unspoken tears. A heartbreaking kiss, a silent plea for a different ending. “I’ll make it out. You’ll be alright.” I try to reassure him. He doesn't reply but everything he wanted to say was there in his eyes.

____________________________________________

As, me and Percy climbed down the cliff, I concentrated on the challenges at hand: keeping my footing, avoiding rockslides that would alert the Empousai to their presence and of course making sure we didn’t plummet to our deaths. About halfway down the precipice, I got breathless. My legs were wobbling badly,  my ankle screaming in protest with each step.

Tartarus was sapping my non-existent strength left. ‘Stop, okay? Just a quick break.’ Percy looked beyond worried. I felt so guilty about burdening him even more. We sat together on a ledge next to a roaring fiery waterfall. The splinters were shooting, threatening to burn us, the sulphurous was becoming suffocating with each breath. My ankle was beyond pain. A wave of nausea washed over me as the cramping pain intensified.

Percy put his arm around me, and I couldn’t help but lean against him, shaking from exhaustion. A hug like a warm blanket, safe and secure. It was a comforting embrace that melted all my worries even if it was for a few seconds. I pulled away from the momentary solace to get a look at him.

He wasn’t much better. He buried his face in my chest, his dark curls cascading down his arms in a curtain of pain. He fell into this dreadful place because of me. To save me, to not leave me alone. We would find a way out of Tartarus. We had to. 

Subconsciously my fingers traced a red coral necklace, the one Percy gave me. At once I felt Percy’s camp necklace. I removed my other hand with which I was holding Percy close. As I undid the knot, Percy looked at my slightly puzzled and there pain etched on his pain even as he tried to hide it. As I started to try my necklace around his neck, he stopped me. “Keep it, you need to make it out of here.” 

“WE need to make it out of here, especially you! So let’s do one thing since we both need good luck, let me give you mine.”  I looped the necklace over his head and let it rest against his skin. 

His lips were parched and his skin felt warm against mine. The firewater was churning in my stomach. “Promise that we’ll have each other's backs. We’ll make it out.” Percy declared with determination. I couldn’t help a melancholic smile. “I pinky promise. That’s the more solemn vow there is.” I add. A short, bitter laugh escapes his lips before our lips meet. My hands were in his jet black hair and our eyelids shut tight to shield us from the awful surroundings. We will make it out of here, I try to tell myself. Even if I don’t Percy will and there is no option B.

Also on AO3 here

So that's it! Hope you all liked it. As always, positive criticism is highly appreciated. Thank you Help for the lovely head cannon. Also there is this one line in the from the movie Wonka which Willy tells Noodle. Let's see if you can find it 👀

[kenlvry]

"you like me??!!!"

s, in which you ask mysterion if he knows a kid by the name kenny mccormick and then proceeds to say you have a crush on this kid kenny. f!reader, kenny is unhooded, 16-17.

you always hung out with stan and craigs gang. you weren't in anyone's cliques,, you were just inbetween. sometimes with stans gang sometimes with craigs.

but you still couldn't befriend kenny mccormick. he was usually quiet around you, even though you two were always together you couldn't muster up anything to him. he was really attractive and you had the biggest crush on him. he never paid you any attention though, and you too didn't. you thought he hated you so you try to avoid him to make his life easier.

"dude he doesn't hate you," "idk stan, its like he doesn't even acknowledge me, he only ever talks to me if im with you guys" you sigh "maybe he does hates you lol" "cartman shut up. look y/n take your time, he can be hard to open up to, he's really nice dw" "yeah i guess youre right kyle, well see you tmr" you waved at he three of them as you part ways. arriving home you sighed, you wonder why kenny hates you so much.

it was around 10 pm now and you smile with anticipation as you open your window wide. usually at this time mysterion visits you, it started happening two weeks after you moved here but you aren't complaining. you talk to him about your frustrations and he just listens ,hes your bestfriend despite you not knowing his identity. you scrolled on your phone while waiting for him and heard him climbing up a secret entry you put for him. "HII" you greet him "hey" he says smiling.

you two talk mindlessly for hours and you decided to bring up your crush to him for advice. "hey can i ask you a question" you stood up from laying down looking at him, he hummed in response. "i have this like huge crush and i dont know what to do, he always ignores me and i know i should move on but I can't get him off my mind its like something or someone is constantly reminding me of him" you rambled.

he raised his eyebrow and his eyes seemed dull when you said you had a crush, growing silent as you complained and just felt jealousy take over. "you should move on, if he ignores you it means he hates you, end of discussion" "dude rude, cmon you dont even know who it is" he stood up from your bed and put his hands on his waist "well if he ignores you he definitely is a bitch, he shouldn't ignore someone without a reasoning. who is this man anyways???" whoever it was kenny was sure to pay a visit at his house to see if he was so handsome that you could fall head over heels for him. "oh its kenny mccormick" "oh him y- WHAT" "idk if you know him though hes like quiet most of the time" "YOU LIKE ME???" "what" he coughs and felt his face flush red "um no i mean continue" "no no i heard that loud and clear wdym you like me??"

kenny was nervously avoiding eye contact now. he didn't know you were trying your best to be his friend, he thought you two were already good friends and thought that you didn't care if he didn't talk to you during school. "i.. ummm..." "wait.. are you kenny!?" you gasp and stood up from your bed covering your mouth "OMG YOU ARE KENNY HOLY SHIT" he was now panicking, he didn't know how you're gonna react.

he sighs "y-yes im sorry i didn't know you were trying to befriend me at school and yk bc i see you at night i didn't really care but i guess i never saw it from your point of view" you were still shocked and continued to cover your mouth, he thought you were so mad at him and that you hated him for lying and ignoring you, he looks down waiting for you to curse at him . "this is so embarrassing omg" huh? he looked up in confusion to you covering your face "can't believe i literally just confessed to you" you were groaning with your ears red. "wait.. you don't care??" "I WOULD IF I DIDN'T JUST CONFESS I NEVER CONFESSED TO ANYONE BEFORE." "uh well.. sorry??? i.." "just leave." "what huh??" "leave myster- kenny i mean" he just leave you to process your thoughts.

the next day at school was so embarrassing you two avoided each other, and when met eye contact you both blush. "i like you too" you turned your head to kenny slouching in his seat hands in his pocket, he turned to face you meeting his eye "i like you too idiot" you slowly smile and blush you two turning away from each other internally blushing not looking over at the other person.

"tf is their problem" "dont know don't wanna know" stan and kyle look at each other confused. looks like theres a new couple in class

[b33zlebubz]

RIGOR MORTIS | CHAPTER EIGHT

SIMON RILEY X AFAB READER | 18+ MDNI | MASTERLIST | AO3 PREV CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER TAGS: reader uses she/her pronouns, fluff angst & eventual smut, blood violence & death, suicidal ideology, slow burn, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, toxic workplace environment, flashbacks “Abandoned in a battlefield with the one person you thought you would never see again; you're forced to come to terms with the ghosts of your past." CHAPTER CW: IMPLIED SEXUAL ASSAULT ((not from simon))

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 14TH 2016 NORWAY, 1400 HOURS

"You're movin' too much, still."

"You are quite literally breathing down my neck.  Kinda hard not to."

"Yeah, well, get used to it, love.  'Cause at this point you're always gonna have someone looming over you."

You huff, unamused, and it clouds out in front of your face as you squint through the scope of an unloaded rifle.  Gloved hands grip the machine as you focus the scope on a point far-off at the other end of the course. 

Four hours you've been out here, now, running a sniping simulation.  The rest of your squad was split up in pairs across the vast landscape.  You were left as the odd one out and, seeing as Walker had originally planned to just stick you carelessly in with another group, Simon volunteered to partner with you instead.  Keep things equal.  Which basically—as your superior—meant he had an excuse to sit back and smoke while you did all the work.

The exercise was simple; climb the mountain, find your post, sit and keep watch for flags until the next team tags you out.  A sniping exercise as well as a strength and conditioning one.  

You both made quick work of the mountain, ice picks cracking against the ice.  Simon never really considered himself the competitive type, partially because he never needed to be and partially because there was no point—he's worked hard to ensure he's always the biggest guy in the room.  Today, though, something in your growing annoyance as he yelled down keep up, sergeant or watch your footing every time you lagged behind stirred something in you, which in turn stirred something in him.  It quickly became something of a race.

When his pick slipped and you finally surpassed him as he skidded down a few meters, he heard your laugh for the first time against the wind.  For some reason, it made him smile, too.

"I hate sniper duty," you grumble.  "Don't know how you do it—sit in the snow for hours."

"Same way I put up with your whiny ass."

"And what's that?"

"Patience."

You roll your eyes, but your lip quirks up into a smile nonetheless.  A sight he's grown more accustomed to over the course of the past couple days of training and conversation.  He's helped you out in little ways, stopping by the shooting range to offer some constructive criticism as you practiced, offering dietary and training advice to get your strength up, sticking his neck out for you when he could around Walker…among other things.  As it would turn out, you were good company.  Whiny, maybe—but good company, nonetheless. 

You were improving, too.  Temperament and strength-wise.  How much of it is due to his company rather than his guidance, though, he isn't sure.

"You're not funny," you retort.

"You complained the whole way up the mountain, love."

You huff and shoot him a look.  "Did I get it done?"

"Affirmative."

"And did I beat you while doing it?"

He shrugs.  "More or less."

"Then you should watch your mouth, Lieutenant."

His eyebrows raise, amused.  "Is that a threat I hear?"

"It's a promise to beat you again sliding back down the mountain, sir."

He imagines you throwing yourself down the snow in order to beat your own speed record, and he chuckles a little at the thought.  "I'd like to see you try, Angel."

You smile, gaze focused through the scope.  You've spotted three flags already, and you spot two more as another hour passes.  The team that's supposed to take your place is getting closer, Ghost thinks it'll be twenty minutes before they rendezvous, and you both make your way back for the day.  

"Ghost."

"Angel," he exhales another cloud of smoke and vapor when you speak, breaking the comfortable silence that's washed over you both.

You maneuver awkwardly to position your hand behind you, opening and closing your fist a few times.

"Hand me one of those," you say, your breathing puffing out into the freezing air.  "And my lighter."

He shakes his head with an amused smirk.   "You're supposed to be focusing."

"Can't focus if my hands are shaking."

"And what if this is a real scenario?  You're not gonna have cigarettes in a life-or-death situation, sergeant."

"Yeah, well, you do," you flex your hand again.  "So gimme."

He figures you're the only Sergeant on base he'd let order him around, but he doesn't let that thought take root in his mind. Instead, he shifts closer so that he's lying on his stomach next to you in the snow.  

"Keep still," he tells you, plucking a cigarette from his pack.  "You miss a flag Walker won't let me hear the end of it." 

You seem slightly surprised, but you don't say anything as he slots himself next to you.  He offers you the cigarette as you keep your gaze in the scope, and you use your free hand to slot it between your lips before he lights it.  You inhale slowly, and he watches your lips as you do so; watches the tips of your fingers through the clipped tips of the gloves he gave you and watches you exhale.  When he looks up, you're already looking at him.  He's close enough to see where snow clings to your lashes.

A beat passes where you both just stare at each other.  Simon finds he can't read your expression.  Then, you shake your head and clear your throat, which in turn snaps him out of his daze, before you take another drag and lock your focus in once more.

"Another flag," you say, your brow furrowed.  "At your twelve o' clock.  About four kilometers out."

Simon shifts, putting some space between you both as he clears his throat because fuck.  What the hell was that? 

"Copy that."

You're quiet for the rest of the exercise, only speaking whenever you spot another flag.  For some reason, Simon still finds himself fixed on the cigarette in your hand as you work.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 14TH 2016 NORWAY, 1800 HOURS

Whenever both return to the base, there's a lot of whispering.  He doesn't notice, at first, too busy sorting equipment and putting it away.  You don't notice the lingering stares or the hushed voices either; or you're just pointedly ignoring them.  Sorting through your own gear nearby, you're quiet, and you're done and ready before he's even folded his snowsuit.  Nevertheless, Simon doesn't pay much mind to the name being whispered around until he can put the face to it.

Roger's Back.

Now, if there is one thing Simon isn't—it's humble.  After years of hard work he's managed to pack on an impressive amount of muscle, taking him from a lanky, malnourished teen to the legend he was now.  Not since Roba has he ever had an issue taking down anyone with the same experience, or sometimes more, than him.  He's made sure of that and intends to keep things that way.  

That is, until Simon happens to lift his head and peer down the hall towards someone he, for once, doesn't have to look down to meet the gaze of.

He's massive, is Simon's first thought.  The same height as him, he wagers the bloke might be the only lower-ranked soldier here who actually matches his strength enough to maybe have the upper hand in a fight.  

Simon's second thought is that bloody hell.

There's a long scratch across the man's cheek and the remains of a bruise around that of an eyepatch.  There's a still-healing gash on the side of his head, scar tissue fresh and thick on the temple of a shaved head, flesh stretched inward from staples freshly removed.

Ah.  Roger.  The sergeant who's skull you cracked against the edge of a bar.

The man approaches you from behind and Simon stops in his tracks just down the hall, eyes flitting over to watch the scene unfold in the corner of his eye.  

Keeping his face hidden had its cons, sure.  Maybe he did nearly suffocate himself every time he sweat his ass off in the desert.  Maybe underwater tasks were difficult and maybe he had to jump through all kinds of hoops to avoid getting his picture taken.  In hiding his own emotions, however, he's become quite good at reading the body language of others.

And you're uncomfortable.  Tense.  Ready to bite at a moment's notice.

You stand rigid still as you sense his presence, your back to the man as he approaches lazily to stand behind you.  Some words are exchanged.  You, biting retorts that just barely count as professional and him…standing too close for comfort.  

You hold your ground.  You don't punch first—just like Simon told you.  He watches the man's lips move, reads the threat that crosses his lips.  Still, you hold your ground as Simon's fists clench and he realizes what's happening—why you punched first.  Why you're struggling and why you put your training on halt for leave.

Next time, the man says.  Next time, you're not getting away so easily, bird.

Simon watches you think about it.  He watches your hands ball into fists, watches your eyes narrow and your nose scrunch with disgust.  But you don't move, no—you don't shrink away in fear and you don't immediately go for the kill.  You stand your ground just as Simon told you to.

You do so until the man looks away first, sauntering off.  Simon watches you let out one breath, then another, before you grab your pack in a shaking hand and sling it over your shoulder.  His eyes linger on you as you quickly leave the room, barely noticing how Roger approaches him to introduce himself.

It's not until the door shuts behind you that Simon grabs the young Sergeant by the front of his shirt and slams him against the wall.  Roger lets out a startled yelp.

"You lay another finger on her," he snarls.  "And I'll fuckin' cut it off, Sergeant, you copy?"

Roger's eyes are wide.  The breath knocked from his lungs, he's panting, and his mouth opens and shuts again in shock.

"I said do you copy?"

"Yes—yes, sir.  Copy and check."

Satisfied that his warning is taken seriously, Simon turns him loose with a hissed, "piss off."

Roger stumbles.  Disoriented, he continues down the hallway, and Simon is still seething as his boots carry him down a wrong turn to Walker's office.

He doesn't walk out until your safety is guaranteed.

[nameless-ken]

Silent Confessions, Loud Masks - Billy Hargrove x Reader Series

(Please reblog!!!)

Happy reading! Comment below to be added to taglist.

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: mostly fluff & angst, cursing

Introduction | Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three

Masterlist

(song for this chapter <3)

You and Robin weave through the bustling corridors of Starcourt Mall, the newest vibrant hub of Hawkins. The air is alive with chatter, the scent of fresh pretzels, and the pulse of '80s synthpop playing in every store.

“I can't wait for the homecoming game, seriously. The whole band has been putting in extra hours, perfecting our routine. It's going to be epic.” Robin exclaims, pulling you into a store full of dresses. 

“Yeah, you guys have been killing it in practice. Honestly, it's the only reason I ever show up to those games.” Robin laughs, but there's a hint of nervousness behind it. “Well, there's another reason I'm excited. You know, besides the game.”

“Oh yeah? What's that?” You question her, racking through overly puffy dresses. Robin hesitates for a moment, her fingers fidgeting with a dress in front of her.

“It's... it's Vickie. I've been wanting to ask her to the dance, but I'm always so nervous around her. We're positioned beside each other in the marching band, and I can't stop thinking about her.”

“Robin, you should totally go for it. You'll never know unless you try.” Robin's expression flickers with uncertainty, her shoulders sagging slightly.

“I wish it were that easy, but you know how it is in this town. If anyone found out... I'd be the talk of Hawkins.”

“Hey, you know I'll always have your back, no matter what. And whoever you choose to be with, they'll be lucky to have you.” Robin smiles gratefully, her eyes glistening with emotion.

“Thanks, you're the best. So, what about you? Anyone special you're thinking about going to the dance with?” You shrug nonchalantly, avoiding her gaze but Robin sees through your casual facade, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

“Come on, spill the beans. I know there's someone you've got your eye on.” You roll your eyes playfully, but her words linger in your mind.

“Maybe someone like Billy?” You freeze, feeling heated just from the sound of his name. “You don’t have to tell me what’s going on between you two but I know you better than anyone and I can tell there’s something there. So, why don’t you take your own advice and do something about it?” 

You know she’s right but you can’t help the feeling of rejection sink in that is more than likely to happen if you were to ask him. No matter how many small moments you’ve shared, you're afraid it hasn’t been enough for Billy to be comfortable showing you off like that. People in this town would consider that something serious and maybe sometimes, you wish it was. 

"Moving on," you remark, pushing aside the tumultuous thoughts about Billy and the complexities of your feelings for him. You take a deep breath, focusing on the present moment.

"So, are we aiming for cute and flirty or bold and daring for the dance?" Robin's voice breaks through your internal turmoil, bringing you back to reality.

You glance at the racks of dresses, each one shimmering with its own unique charm. With a determined smile, you shake off the lingering doubts and dive into surveying every dress on the rack.

"Cute and flirty, I think," you reply and grab the perfect dress, wanting to pick something that you like but also might have a certain pair of eyes on you the whole night. 

You emerge from the fitting rooms, twirling and admiring your reflection in the mirror, Robin being your usual hype woman. 

“Yeah Billy won’t be able to take his eyes off you.” Robin teases as you walk back in the dressing room and pull the curtain shut, shooting out your middle finger at her and she lets out a boisterous laugh. 

You walk with Robin towards the entrance of the field, the excitement of the homecoming game palpable in the air. 

“I’ll catch you after.” Robin says and you nod, waving her off and she rushes to join the rest of the marching band. 

As you approach the ticket booth, you fish out the necessary cash and exchange it for your ticket. Ticket in hand, you move past the bottom of the bleachers. That’s when you see him. 

Billy and his friends huddling beneath the bleachers, the acrid scent of smoke drifting towards you. Your eyes meet Billy's, and a shiver runs down your spine as he sends you a knowing wink, a silent message passing between you. You quickly avert your gaze, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention.

Feeling a knot form in your stomach, you focus on the ground beneath your feet, your heart pounding in your chest. Ignoring the emotions fostering within, you make your way up the metal bleachers, the seats creaking beneath your weight.

Finally reaching a seat near the top, you take a deep breath. A part of you wishes you could’ve walked up to him without the fear of judgement from his friends and a part of you wishes to keep what you have secret because in those moments of just the two of you, it’s something so special that you want to keep between you both. 

You don’t really know anything about football. As the game starts, the crowd grows louder and louder, to the point where you can’t handle the shouting anymore. After you watch Robin and the true stars of the evening finish their halftime routine, you make your way back down the bleacher steps, the slight quietness of below easing the pain in your ears. 

“Tired of the game already?” You look over, noticing Billy’s lone form in the shadows. 

“Never cared for it honestly.” You respond, walking closer to him, finding the familiar cloud of smoke surrounding him. “You know, if you keep smoking like that, it’ll kill you.” 

“Let’s hope.” You can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or serious. You hope for the first. 

“Why are you here anyway? Didn’t peg you as someone with school spirit.” You lean against one of the cool metal bars, watching his lips wrap around the cigarette. 

“Max is here with some friends, dad made me bring her.” 

You nod, acknowledging Billy's explanation. "Family duties," you say with a hint of understanding. "I get it."

Billy takes another drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing brightly in the darkness. "Yeah," he mutters. "Something like that."

The distant roar of the crowd filters down to you, but down here, beneath the bleachers, it's more subdued, almost peaceful. You find yourself drawn to the relative quietness as you continue your conversation with Billy.

"So, how's everything else going?" you inquire, hoping to shift the topic away from school-related matters.

Billy takes a moment before replying, his gaze thoughtful. "Hey, are you planning on going to the dance?" he asks suddenly, his tone casual.

You're taken aback by the question, the unexpectedness of it causing you to pause for a moment. "Yeah, actually," you reply, a smile forming on your lips. "I'm going with Robin and some of her other friends."

Billy nods in understanding. "Cool," he says, his tone casual. "I'll probably just tag along with my friends too."

You glance at him, catching his eye for a brief moment. There's something in his expression, a hint of hesitation perhaps, as if he wants to say more but decides against it. He takes another puff of his cigarette, the smoke swirling around him like a protective shield.

“I guess I’ll see you there.” You muster up the courage to give his arm a touch, easing his anxious nature. 

“Dress pretty for me.” He comments with a sly smirk gracing his lips. 

You chuckle at Billy's comment, shaking your head in mock exasperation. "Always the charmer, aren't you?" you tease, playfully rolling your eyes.

Billy's smirk widens at your response, and for a moment, you catch a glimpse of the mischievous glint in his eyes. "Can't blame a guy for trying," he says with a shrug.

You laugh, feeling the tension between you dissipate in the warmth of the moment. "Well, I'll do my best to impress," you respond with a playful smile.

"I'm looking forward to it, little mouse," he says softly, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of sincerity.

You feel a flutter of excitement in your chest at his words, the prospect of seeing Billy at the dance suddenly feeling more thrilling than ever before. With a final nod, you turn away and walk off. As you make your way back up the bleachers, the sound of the crowd surrounds you once more, but this time, it's accompanied by a sense of anticipation for the homecoming dance.

As you and Robin enter the bustling gymnasium, the pulsating beat of the music washes over you, mingling with the excited chatter of your classmates. The gym is transformed into a kaleidoscope of colors, with twinkling lights casting a warm glow over the dance floor.

You catch sight of Billy almost immediately, his presence commanding attention even in the midst of the crowd. His attire remains unchanged, a testament to his unwavering sense of self. Despite the casualness of his outfit - jeans, button-up shirt and a leather jacket - there's an undeniable allure about him that draws your gaze like a magnet. You can't help but feel a flutter of anticipation in your chest as your eyes lock with his across the room.

You never expected his simple outfit to stir such feelings within you, but there's something undeniably captivating about Billy that defies explanation.

Before you can dwell on your thoughts any further, Robin tugs at your arm, pulling you towards an open table. "Come on, let's find a spot," she says with a grin, her excitement contagious.

You tear your gaze away from Billy, reluctantly letting yourself be led to the table. As you settle into your seat, the music swells around you.

As the music pulses through the air and Robin convinces you to join her on the dance floor, you find yourself swept up in the rhythm, losing yourself in the music and the movement. Robin's infectious energy encourages you to let go of your inhibitions, and soon you're dancing, laughing and twirling to the beat.

But amidst the swirling lights and loud music, you can't shake the feeling of someone's eyes on you. Every time you steal a glance in Billy's direction, you find his gaze fixed on you, unwavering and intense. A strange heat rises within you, and you can't help but wonder if it's the result of your dancing or the intensity of Billy's stare.

Feeling overwhelmed by the sensation, you gently excuse yourself from the dance floor, telling Robin that you need a moment to catch your breath. She nods understandingly as you make your way towards the exit. 

Stepping out into the cool night air, you find yourself in the same alleyway beside the gym, the distant sounds of the dance echoing in the background. Leaning against the wall, you take a deep breath, relishing the quietness and solitude.

But your moment is short-lived as you hear footsteps approaching. Turning, you're surprised to see Billy standing there, his expression unreadable in the dim light.

"Hey," he says timidly, breaking the silence.

"Hey.” You reply, crossing your arms behind your back against the cool brick. 

For a moment, neither of you speak, the air hangs heavy with unspoken words. But then Billy takes a step closer, his gaze searching yours as if trying to decipher your thoughts.

"I... I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he says, his voice hesitant.

You offer him a small smile. "Yeah, I'm okay," you assure him, though the truth is far more complicated than you're willing to admit.

As the distant strains of a slow song drift out from the gym, filling the alleyway with its soft melody, you're taken aback when Billy holds out his hand to you, a silent invitation written in his eyes.

For a moment, you hesitate, the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the present swirling around you. But then, something within urges you to take a chance, to step into the unknown. With a tentative smile, you place your hand in his, feeling the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin.

Billy pulls you close, his arms enveloping you in a tender embrace that seems to erase the world around you, leaving only the two of you swaying to the music in the softly lit alleyway. His touch, surprisingly gentle, sends a shiver down your spine.

"You know how to dance?" you ask, a smile playing on your lips, unable to contain your amusement.

Billy's soft chuckle fills the empty space around you, a sound that echoes off the walls. "My mom taught me when I was younger," he explains, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. "We used to dance around our living room on nights when my dad was away."

A pang of empathy tugs at your heartstrings as you sense the weight of his past in the way he holds you now. "I'm sorry," you murmur, searching for the right words to offer comfort.

Billy shakes his head, a bittersweet smile gracing his lips. "It's okay," he reassures you softly, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. "I haven't danced like this since she left."

“Well, I’m honored,” you respond, feeling a warmth spread through you at the intimacy of the moment.

“You’re too good to me,” Billy mumbles against the side of your head, his lips brushing against your hair. “You’re much better off without me.”

“You’re not the judge of that,” you say gently, pulling away to meet his gaze and you're struck by the vulnerability reflected in his eyes. 

"Maybe not," he concedes, his voice barely above a whisper. "But you know the many mistakes I’ve made that I'm not proud of."

You reach up, gently tracing his jawline with your fingertips. "We've all made mistakes, Billy," you say softly. "But that doesn't define who you are. It's about what you do next."

He exhales slowly, as if releasing a weight he's carried for far too long. "I want to do better," he admits, his voice tinged with determination. "For you, for myself... for her."

You nod, feeling a swell of hope rise within you. "Then let's take it one step at a time," you say, a small smile playing on your lips. "Together."

Billy's lips curve into a genuine smile, and he nods in agreement. "Together," he copies, before pulling you close once more, the music enveloping you both as you continue to sway in the dimly lit alleyway.

"Does this mean you'll stop ignoring me at school?" you ask, your voice carrying a mix of hope and uncertainty. "Will you... want to be seen together?"

Billy's expression shifts, a flicker of hesitation crossing his features. "I've been scared, afraid of dragging you into my mess."

You reach out, placing a gentle hand on his cheek, your touch grounding him in the present moment. "I'm not afraid," you assure him, your voice unwavering. "I choose you, Billy. Mess and all."

“I’m just not sure I’m ready for that.” Billy stops swaying, moving his hand from your back and runs it through his hair. You can feel him mentally pulling away before he takes a step back. 

“I’m not going to make you do something you don’t feel comfortable with but it hurts me when I can’t even walk up to you at school or outside of school when you're with your friends because of their ridicule that is always directed toward me.” You reach out your hand in the unwanted space Billy put between you. 

“What are you so afraid of? Why do you care so much about what other people think?” You watch as he runs a hand through his hair and grips it slightly in frustration.

"It's not just about what other people think," he confesses, his voice laced with vulnerability. 

“You can’t fool me Billy. This facade you always put up.”

As Billy meets your gaze, you can sense the walls he's been painstakingly building around himself begin to rise once more, brick by brick, shielding him from the vulnerability of your conversation. His eyes flicker with a mixture of relief and apprehension, as if he's been longing to retreat into the safety of his defenses but fears the consequences of letting them fall.

"I know," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper, but there's a hint of distance in his tone. "I've spent so long pretending, trying to shield myself from the pain of being judged."

Your heart sinks as you witness him pulling away, his vulnerability overshadowed by his protective barriers. "Billy," you reach out, your voice a gentle plea, but he takes another step back, distancing himself from your touch.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice tinged with resignation. "I thought I could do this, but... I can't do this."

You watch helplessly as he retreats further into himself, his walls rising higher with each passing moment. "But Billy, we can face this together," you insist, desperation creeping into your voice. "I'm not going anywhere."

He shakes his head, his expression pained as he turns away, the distance between you widening with each step he takes. "I can't," he says softly, his words barely audible. "Not like this."

Tears well up in your eyes as you watch Billy disappear into the shadows, his departure leaving you feeling emptier than ever before. The weight of his absence settles heavily upon your shoulders, the alleyway suddenly feeling desolate and cold without his presence.

You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to ward off the chill that seems to seep into your bones. The echoes of his retreating footsteps continue to reverberate in your mind, a haunting reminder of the distance that now stretches between you.

A sense of helplessness washes over you. The ache of rejection gnaws at your heart, leaving you feeling adrift in your own sea of uncertainty and sorrow.

You brush away the tears staining your cheeks and summon the strength to turn around, heading back into the gym. With a determined effort, you conceal the ache in your heart behind a forced smile, unwilling to let the pain consume you in front of others.

It’s been a couple weeks since your encounter with Billy at the dance. He’s barely looked your way at school and you’ve tried to get his attention, leaving little notes in his locker or setting down freshly baked cookies you made the night before on his desk in English. 

He doesn’t touch them until the bell rings and slides them into his backpack, leaving without saying a word to you. You know that night in the alleyway, something switched between you two. There was more intensity in the way you moved together. You were practically drawn to each other like magnets until he forced himself away to avoid any sort of commitment from happening. 

You know Billy still has a lot to figure out and deal with the turmoil in his life. You just wish he’d let you in and see how much you want to help him find his way. 

The night envelops you in its dark embrace as you receive a quiet call from Billy, beckoning you to meet him at the small park down the street. Despite the late hour, you don't hesitate, knowing there's a reason he needs you.

When you arrive, the moonlight reveals Billy swaying slightly on one swing and as he turns his head at your footsteps you notice the multiple bruises marring Billy's jaw and as others hide beneath his shirt, a painful testament to the violence he endures at home. 

“Billy, what happened?” Your heart aches at the sight. You walk over and stand in front of him, looking down. 

Billy's gaze flickers with pain and shame. "The usual, my dad," he admits, his voice heavy and gruff. "He... he got super drunk and lost his temper again."

Your heart clenches at his words, the weight of his suffering settling heavily upon you. "I'm so sorry, Billy."

Billy offers you a weak smile, his eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and despair. "I know you probably don’t want to talk to me but thanks for coming," he says softly. "I didn't know who else to call."

“Of course Billy, I’m always here for you.” Your arm twitches, wanting to touch him but leave it at your side at the sight of him, knowing he probably doesn’t want to be touched. “We should really call Chief Hopper, Billy, this is so out of hand-”

“No. No cops. That’ll make it worse.”

“I can’t just sit by and do nothing when you’re suffering so much.” You sigh and move to sit on the swing next to him. “Asking for help doesn’t make you weak.”

“I just have to make it through to graduation and then I’m leaving. He can’t stop me then.” 

“Where are you going to go?” You pry, wanting to hear what he wants out of his future. 

“Back to California. It’s the only place I could see myself staying for the rest of my life.” He admits. 

“Seems like you have it all figured out.” A slight pang of sadness fills your chest at him not mentioning you in his future plans. You shake that thought out of your head. You aren’t even together, why would he make room for you? 

“I’m sorry for leaving you at the dance that night.” You’re surprised by Billy’s admission. 

“No, I’m sorry for pressing you. I know how difficult it can be to open up and let things in.” 

“Don’t do that. Don’t apologize for me being an asshole to you.” Billy shakes his head with a scoff before looking you in the eyes. “I can’t - I don’t know how to put this into words. This is new to me. I’ve never wanted somebody so much before in my life.”

“Then stop being so stubborn.” You give him a soft smile, trying to lighten the mood. 

“I think that’s in my DNA, little mouse. You’ll have to try harder to fix that part of me.” 

“Billy,” You reach over and take his hand, softly running your finger over his bruised knuckles. “I’m not trying to fix you. I just want to be by your side as you find your way. You deserve someone who wants to show you the good things but sticks by you for all the bad things too.” Billy avoids your gaze, keeping his eyes locked on your hands, connected between you. 

“I can’t hold your hand without noticing how wrong mine looks in yours. I don’t deserve the gentleness of you combined with my ugliness.” Your heart aches at Billy's words, his self-deprecation cutting through you like a knife. You squeeze his hand gently, refusing to let him retreat into his own despair.

"Billy," you say softly, your voice laced with determination. "You are not defined by your past or your scars. You are worthy of love and kindness, regardless of what you believe."

He meets your gaze, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "But I've done terrible things," he whispers, his voice cracking with emotion. "I don't deserve someone like you."

You shake your head, a surge of empathy welling within you. "We've all made mistakes, Billy. It's how we choose to move forward that matters," you say, your words infused with conviction. "And I choose to stand by you, to help you heal and grow, no matter how long it takes."

Billy's defenses begin to crumble, his facade of strength giving way to vulnerability. "I don't know if I can change," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

"We'll figure it out together," you reassure him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm not going anywhere."

A flicker of hope ignites in Billy's eyes, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice filled with gratitude.

“Come on, let's get you cleaned up. My dad’s at work so it’ll be just us. You can stay over if you want.” You gently tug on Billy's hand, urging him to his feet as you lead him out of the park and towards your home.

As you walk, Billy's steps falter, his hesitation palpable. "Are you sure about this?" he asks, uncertainty lacing his words.

You turn to face him, your expression comforting. "I'm sure," you say firmly, giving his hand another reassuring squeeze. "You don't have to face this alone anymore." Billy's shoulders relax slightly at your words, a sense of relief washing over him.

When you arrive at your home, you guide Billy inside, the warmth of the familiar surroundings enveloping you both.

"I'll grab you some clean clothes," you say, disappearing into your room for a moment before returning with a soft towel and a change of your dad's clothes.

“There’s a first aid kit beneath the sink if you want to use it.” You tell him, not knowing if he wants you to help him or leave him alone. 

Billy accepts the clothes gratefully, a small smile playing on his lips. "Thanks," he says, his voice hoarse with emotion and he disappears into the bathroom to freshen up.

You grab an extra blanket and pillow for Billy and set up the couch. Billy exits the bathroom, a small band-aid on his cheek, the redness from his wounds washed away. 

“You can take my bed, it’ll be more comfortable than the couch.” You gesture to your bedroom door. 

“Don’t be silly, Y/N.” He grabs the blanket and pillow off the couch and ushers you to follow him. “Unless you’re uncomfortable.” He pauses. 

“It’s okay.” You smile and close your bedroom door behind him as he walks in and sets up his pillow and blanket on your bed, carefully and slowly laying down. He winces as he rolls over slightly, grabbing at his side. 

“Do you need some ice?” 

“No, It’s okay, I’ll just wait till morning.” He watches your movements as you settle into bed beside him. 

“Goodnight Billy.” You reach over and turn your lamp off, turning on your side to face him. 

“Goodnight, little mouse.” He whispers. You watch the exhaustion take over him. In the darkness of your room, for the first time, he falls asleep. You smile, watching his eyes flutter and his breath hollow out, chest rising and falling slowly. 

You’re unfamiliar with the emotion flooding you right now. With Billy safe under your roof, you vow to yourself to do everything in your power to help him heal and grow, to show him that he’s worthy of love and kindness, no matter what demons haunt him. 

You can’t help the words that tumble out of you, unexpectedly. 

“I love you,” you whisper. “I love you so much it might be crazy to admit.”

Taglist:@msbillyhargrove @uselessbutinteresting @milestellergfs @periwinkle-quill @ghostcastaway @iletmytittiestitty-russ @missingbillyhargrove @lotionlamp @billys-pretty-babe @isimpfortoomanypeople @rosey96 @girlwifteef @miheartsedthings @empathyroad

[writing-blog-iguess]

Online Matchup 4

Summery: Y/N makes a trip back home last minute, ruining Jason's plan for a breakfast date, but that won't stop him from coming up with a different plan.

Warning: swearing, talk of surgery, Jason's being a sweetheart, fluff

A/n: this is becoming one of my comfort fics to write, and I can't be mad about it. I'm glad you guys are enjoying it. Feedbacks always welcome

Words: 3097

Ao3

Series master list

——

October 8

Jason (6:40am) Good morning How are you this beautiful morning?

Y/N Why in the everloving fuck are you awake at six in the morning?

Jason Aren’t you a potty mouth in the early mornings Someone should teach you a lesson

Y/N It’s to early for anything right now

Jason’s May I remind you, that you’re awake this early too

Y/N My sister decided it was the perfect time to call me Apparently it couldn’t wait until I was awake enough to call her back And now I can’t sleep

Jason Everything okay?

Y/N Define okay?

Jason It’s your dad isn’t it?

Y/N Yeah I don’t know, I don’t want to talk about it

Jason Fair enough

Y/N Now answer my question

Jason Demanding Wanted to know how you were doing after last night

Y/N Better now that I’ve slept I wish I could sleep longer tho Though my eyes hurt and it feels like I have a hangover

Jason Consequences of crying before bed

Y/N Make it go away

Jason Wanna meet for breakfast? Y/N?

Y/N (8:35am) Oh, sorry I fell asleep

Jason Uh huh It has nothing to do with the fact that I asked if you wanted to go for breakfast

Y/n Mm don’t know what you’re talking about And isn’t there a rule where a guy has to wait a least three days Before you ask the girl out again

Jason Apparently My brother advised me the same thing But since I could care less what he thinks about my relationship I have decided to ignore him and take the plunge and ask you anyways Besides he barely listens to his own advice So to each their own I guess

Y/N Why do I get the feeling that you ignore your brother a lot

Jason Couldn’t tell you So, breakfast?

Y/N Uh, wish I could But I have a train to catch 

Jason Where’s it going?

Y/N Metropolis 

Jason You're going home? Why so sudden?

Y/n The call with my sister? Apparently my dad is having surgery and my mom wants everyone there until he’s done Don’t know why I have to go, by the time I’m there it’ll probably be over

Jason Yikes What’s the surgery for?

Y/N Dunno, something to do with something? I’m not sure, I was half asleep when she called And she used that to her advantage and got me to agree to go home today

Jason Don’t you have class tomorrow?

Y/N Not until the afternoon

Jason Work?

Y/n Not until Tuesday 

Jason Huh

Y/n Yup tbh I rather spend my Sunday with you then go home But it’s family and I can’t say no to my sister

Jason I get that family’s first But I would choose you over my family

Y/n … You can’t just say that!

Jason But flustering you is becoming my favourite past time

Y/n Get a new one!

Jason Nah, don’t think I will Okay, so no breakfast How about I drop you off at the station?

Y/N Tempting But if you do, then I’ll miss the train Because I wanna kiss your stupid face And besides, I’m almost there

Jason My face isn’t stupid … You wanna kiss me? Colour me flattered

Y/n I rescind my statement 

Jason Can’t do that, it’s in writing Hold on, when you said you were sleeping You were actually packing, weren’t you?

Y/N Guilty I’m sorry I’ve spent thirty minutes debating on whether or not to ditch my family for you

Jason But in the end you’re ditching me Feels like your running from something I see how it is

Y/N I’m sorry D: I’m not running away or anything 

Jason It’s okay, really I’m not mad or anything Okay, maybe a little disappointed But he’s your dad and you don’t know when’s the next time you see him So it’s okay, don’t feel bad I’ll wait around until your back And I know your not, I just took the joke too far and I’m sorry

Y/n I’m still sorry

Jason Can I call you?

Y/N Uhhhhhhh Give me a minute 

Jason Take as much time as you need I can wait

Y/n Sweet of you But I needed to find a seat first And then my headphones

Jason So You’re good now?

Y/n Yup

It didn’t take more than a second before your phone rang after you sent the message.

“I thought you wanted to call?” you answered, moving your phone so Jason could see your face. He shrugged, shooting you a smile.

“Wanted to see your pretty face is all,” he said, and you could feel your face heat up at the compliment. Averting your eyes, you sink in your seat, trying to hide your face in your sweater. “Awe, is this what you look like when you get flustered? There’s no way I can't stop flustering you now. If this is what your reaction is going to be every time I do.”

“I’m hanging up now,” you mumbled into your sweater, and wondered if he heard that. Judging by the smile he gave you, he did.

“Nah, I don’t think so. You called my face pretty and you wanted to kiss it,” he said. That made you come out of your sweater and glared at him.

“I think I said stupid face,” you corrected, “you have a stupid face.”

“That you want to kiss,” Jason pointed out with a smile. You stuck out your tongue at him, making him laugh. “How’s the train ride?”

You shrugged, shifting in your seat trying to get comfortable. “A train ride I guess. We just left the station and it’ll be two hours until we get to Metropolis? My butts gonna hurt once I get there.”

“Gotta walk around once in a while,” Jason reminded, “did you bring anything for the ride?”

“Yeah, homework I still need to finish, my sketchbook and some books I’ve been meaning to read.”

“Sounds like a party,” Jason joked. You huffed out a laugh.

“Oh yeah, real life of the party over here.” 

Before either of you could continue, you faintly heard a door slamming open and closing before hearing a faint call of Jason! You promised me breakfast! From what you could make out, it was a female voice and you pushed down the bout of jealousy that came from nowhere. You didn’t have the right to be jealous. Jason wasn’t yours, he was his own person and you two weren’t seeing each other officially. He was free to do what he pleased. Still, you couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t hurt.

You watched as Jason scowled, and turned towards the voice. “Yeah, give me a minute I’m on the phone.”

You schooled your features and raised an eyebrow as he turned back to his phone. “You already had breakfast plans, yet you still tried to make them with me? Wow Jason, didn’t know you had that in you.”

“Okay, first of all, I’m not a two timing bitch,” he clarified and you blanched at the statement. Damn, and you thought you hid it well. “And like I said before, I’d ditch my family for you any day of the week without question.”

“Aw Jason, you’d ditch your own sister! I see how it is,” the female voice said. Jason made a face as a blond haired girl came into frame, hanging off of Jason’s shoulders. Her nose pressed into his cheek and she smiled. “Tell me how you really feel, Jason.”

“Okay, I will,” he said, shoving her off, “you’re an annoying little shit.” She laughed and turned towards the phone. She was pretty, you had to admit.

“Oh, Tim’s right. You are cute,” she said, and you pulled your sweater over your mouth, trying to keep a laugh in as Jason looked offended.

“Steph!” he yelled, shoving her face out of frame. “Go away.”

“No, you promised me breakfast last night, and I demand pancakes,” she said, coming back in, shoving Jason out of frame as she did so. She turned to you and smiled. “Hello, I’m Jason’s sister Stephanie. You must be Y/N, it’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard virtually nothing about you.”

“And I’m trying to keep it that way,” he grunted, pushing her away. The two fought until finally they settled with Stephanie leaning on his shoulder. “How’d you even know their name?”

“Tim,” she answered. You raised your eyebrow in question. “He gets bored when he has nothing to do. And he decided to snoop around Jason’s life.”

“Well I’ll try not to be offended,” you said, though you furrowed your brows in concern. “Should I be worried?”

“I don’t think so,” Stephanie hummed, “not unless you have something to hide.”

“Do you have something to hide?” Jason pressed, a teasing smile dancing on his lips. You puffed out your cheeks and looked away.

“Oooh you do,” Stephanie sang, “tell us before we find out from Tim.”

“Tim needs to mind his own fucking business,” you muttered to yourself, causing Jason to laugh. “And no, I have nothing to hide. Lived a pretty boring life.”

“Don’t know, you tried killing your sister once,” Jason mused. 

“I didn’t try on purpose! I pushed her off the deck into the lake,” you corrected, “and my dad got to her before anything could happen. Man, he was pissed. I feared for my life that day. I’ve never known fear until I saw the look he gave me.” You shuddered at the memory.

“How old were you?” Stephanie asked, worry laced in her words. You shrugged, staring at the corner of your phone, avoiding their gaze.

“Ten I think? Could be younger, I don’t know. Thought it would be funny, and it was until it wasn’t.”

“Did he hurt you?” Jason asked, you shook your head and moved your gaze to him.

“No. But the way he looked, he wanted to. If we were alone he probably would have. I booked it into the car and hid there until we went home. Then I hid in my room for the rest of the day.”

“Yikes. Why was he so mad? Bruce wouldn’t have been if we did something like that.”

“That’s because we knew how to take care of ourselves and we knew how to swim,” Jason pointed out.

“And he probably doesn’t have favourites,” you chimed in. You hummed in thought, ignoring the worried looks the two siblings were giving you. “But he doesn’t strike me as picking a favourite among his kids, unless he’s really good at hiding it. But no parent is that good at hiding that.”

“Have experience, do you?” Jason asked, you only hummed not wanting to elaborate. You aren’t sure how, but what was supposed to be a lighthearted conversation turned sour. You scrunched up your nose as a thought occurred to you. If it was this easy to talk to both Jason and Stephanie, you were afraid how the rest of his family would be. “Whatcha thinking about?”

“What you guys are having for breakfast,” you said instead of you voicing your thoughts.

“Ooh yes. I did come here for breakfast,” Stephanie said, as if she had forgotten the reason for being here. She turned to him and poked his cheek. “Make me pancakes with bacon and ham and eggs and everything.”

“How can you eat so much and not gain anything,” Jason grumbled as he moved off the couch and towards the kitchen. Stephanie shifted slightly so she was more centered to the camera.

“I work out,” she simply said with a shrug. Jason grumbled something, and since he was too far away you couldn’t hear what he said. “So, how’d you meet Jason anyways? Tim won’t say and Jason doesn’t want to talk about you when asked.”

“That’s because you pester me so much that I don’t want to talk about them,” Jason called, “and you don’t have to answer anything you want too, Y/N. Don’t let Stephanie bully you into answering questions.”

“It’s okay, Jason, I don’t mind. I know what it’s like to have siblings,” you said with a smile. “We met online. Started talking a few weeks back and haven’t stopped since.”

“Ah, you guys are still new,” Stephanie mused, “that means you can still back out before you guys get too serious.” You laughed at the same time Jason yelled hey! “Kidding, I’m kidding. I haven’t seen Jason happy in awhile. Please stick around, he’s more bearable when he’s happy.”

You watched as Jason stalked towards her, and plucked the phone from her. “If all you came here for was to make fun of me, you can go home without your food.”

“Noooo, Jason I’m sorry,” you heard Stephanie whine. And you couldn't be sure, but you saw Stephanie grovel a little bit on the floor. Although Stephanie couldn’t see Jason’s expression, you could and smiled at the little smile he shot you.

“Then go take a shower, you stink,” he said, and she was quick to race to the bathroom. “Your clothes are still here from last time!” he called and set the phone down so watch him as he prepared breakfast. “Sorry about her. I completely forgot she was coming over today.”

“No worries,” you dismissed, watching in awe as Jason cut up some vegetables with ease. “She was fun to talk to.”

“Prefer her over me, huh?”

“Nope. I like you more,” you said. “Where’d you learn how to cook?”

“Alfred taught me when I was young, and I kept going afterwards. Found it helped me when things got too stressed,” he explained. “Stress cooking is a lot healthier than other ways to deal.”

“I get that,” you mused, “I stress clean.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” he grunted. He stopped for a moment and looked towards you; eyes narrowed. “Did you have breakfast this morning?” You bit the top of your lip and avoided looking at him. “Y/N,” Jason said in warning.

“It was too early to eat!” you cracked, “I had a coffee and that was it.” Jason shook his head, going back to his food.

“I hope you eat something soon.”

“I packed some snacks. But they’re nothing compared to what you’re making for breakfast.”

 “Well next time actually eat something or else I’ll just have to come over and cook for you.”

“That a threat?”

“No, more like a promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you said with a smile. 

“Stop flirting and cook me my food!” Stephanie yelled after the quickest shower you have ever seen someone take. 

“So fucking demanding,” Jason grunted as you laughed.

“I should let you go so you can focus on the food instead of getting distracted,” you mused.

“But you’re the only kind of distraction I’d like,” he said, and you heard Stephanie gag. Laughing, you shook your head, trying to keep from blushing. “Okay maybe you’re right. Or otherwise, I’m going to throw Steph out the window.”

“Ha! I would like to see you try!”

Jason rolled his eyes and flicked them towards you. “Let me know when you’re there?”

“I can do that.”

---

Y/N (11:30 am) Ugh, I hate train rides

Jason Could have flown

Y/N Yeah but train tickets are cheaper

Jason True Made it in one piece?

Y/N Yup Now I’m making my way to the hospital

Jason Someone picking you up?

Y/n Nah, I’m taking the bus Need the extra time before I get there

Jason I get that 

Y/n How was breakfast?

Jason Good Though it would be better if it was you

Y/n Stoooooooopppppppp

Jason Never I’m sorry about Steph, we can be a handful sometimes

Y/n No worries, I like her Is the rest of your family that energetic?

Jason Some yeah, the rest are just tamed

Y/n Sounds fun

Jason Oh yeah, the best

Y/n I can hear the sincerity from here 

Jason Almost to the hospital?

Y/n Yeah I gotta go

Jason Tell me how it goes

Y/N (2:40 pm) I shouldn’t have come Why did I say yes?

Jason Because you were sleep deprived and you can’t say no to your sister Also because your dads in the hospital 

Y/n Right He’s fine by they way, now he’s just recovering Doctors say they did what they could and he’ll be out of here in a couple of days

Jason Figured out what the surgery was about?

Y/N Nope and at this point I’m too afraid to ask

Jason Wow Why do you have regrets?

Y/n I don’t know how or why But somehow my sister figured out I was seeing someone Or at least talking to someone and kept pestering me until I told them I’ve been bamboozled 

Jason Guess I’m not your dirty little secret anymore huh

Y/n Guess it wasn’t meant to be Oh well can’t be helped

Jason So now that your dads fine, you coming home?

Y/n No Somehow I have been convinced to stay the night and take the morning train in the morning Which sucks, I already bought my ticket for tonight 

Jason That’s rough buddy

Y/n Can’t be helped I guess Now I get to play 20 questions 

Jason But at least you get to spend time with your family

Y/n True

Jason you know, if you want I can drive up there and take the train with you

Y/N That is very sweet of you and very tempting But you have work and I don’t want to inconvenience you

Jason You’re not an inconvenience If anything, you’d be doing me a favour I have the day off tomorrow and I’ve been meaning to do something I’m not very good at doing nothing

Y/N What about your bike?

Jason When I said drive, I meant the loosely I’d take the train or fly Or I can drive us back I have a car too, you know

Y/N Where would you stay?

Jason I have a friend living there that I’ve been meaning to visit Plus we can go for breakfast tomorrow before making the trip back

Y/N Very tempting But ultimately I’m not going to tell you what to do It’d be your choice

Jason See you in the morning then

[it-was-funeral-grey]

Celestia-sent (Al Haitham x F!Reader)

Prequel Part 1 Part 2

Summary: There's a weird guy lying outside your house.

Warnings: Vulgarities, food (stew) , mentions of injuries , crying, reader mistakes al haitham as a old guy lmao, reader lives in vimara village, spoliers for al haitham's lore,

Word count: <1.7k words

Inspired by: -

Author's note: it was kinda therapeutic to write al haitham's part- the first half. not sure why. it just felt so easy. i miss my grandma. i should visit her once i feel better.

Please give criticism! Also, if i missed any warnings, do tell me so i can add them!

He's just lying there, faced down. His grey hair sticks out painfully against the brown dirt path, and you fight the urge to squat down to take a closer look. It's a shade of grey you have never seen before. It kinda looks like the moon.

Another old drunkard, you think. There's been many of them recently in Vimara village. Ever since the scandal in the Akademiya three months ago, Port Ormos had crashed. The whole port is a mess- what once was Sumeru's most efficient had become disorganised and stagnant overnight. Now, it's akin to a ghost town- especially after the mass layoff of port employees.

Trading has halted completely, the Wikala Funduq citing 'awaiting instructions from Akademiya higher ups'. But so far, no one from the Akademiya has come down to remedy the situation and help revitalise Port Ormos.

As a result, private traders can't do business, and trading companies can't do business, so no one is making money anymore. Traders from Inazuma and Snezhnaya had stopped docking in Sumeru. In a couple more months, Port Ormos would lose its position as the central trading hub of Teyvat. Sumeru will lose a terrifying portion of its national income. It will only get worse from there.

Vimara village was outraged at the mass layoff. Most port employees lived there, after all. In an instant, families lost all sources of income. The village community had tried to help each other, sharing food and whatever they could with each other. But this was only a temporary solution. The stress of unemployment is beginning to weigh heavy on many, which is why many have taken to drinking recently.

Which is why you aren't surprised that a guy's passed out on the ground. What was surprising is that you had never seen this dude before.

He's wearing expensive clothes, you note. He's definitely not from the village. Clad in green, he'd almost look like a plant if not for his grey hair. There's a cape hanging off his back, and on a shoulder is what you think is a vision.

Damn, you wonder. What kind of guy is this?

Curiosity gets the better of you. Squatting down next to the old guy's side, you lay your groceries down. Strangely, you don't smell any alcohol on him. So, not a drunkard?

"Hey, uh… sir?" you shake his shoulder, brushing your fingers over his vision. It's cool to the touch, the green orb emitting a gentle glow amidst the fading daylight. "Wakey wakey, mister?"

The man doesn't wake. You sigh. What are you going to do? It's almost nighttime. You can't just leave him here. I mean, you could, but still…

There's a pleasant aroma in the air, accompanied by the sound of sizzling oil. Onions, Harra spice… stir-fried with snapdragon leaves?

It reminds Al Haitham of his grandmother's cooking. Maybe she's making dinner now. He's pretty hungry.

Huh. Now that he thinks of it, it has been a long time since he's had dinner with her. When was the last time he even spoke to her? Or visited her?

He has so much to tell her.

He has to tell her about his job as a Scribe. Well, for now, he's the ACTING Grand Sage. Not for long, though. He'll make sure of that.

He's got to tell her about the stunt he pulled to save Lesser Lord Kusanali. She'd enjoy that tale. Probably scold him for being so reckless as well, though.

Yeah, he'll do that. Maybe he'll ask for a second serving of rice too. He's really, really hungry.

Then, he'll ask for advice on how to handle the whole shitshow that he has been assigned to run. She'll know what to do. She always does. She'll teach him how to manage the infinite number of impossible tasks thrown his way.

She'll comfort him. She'll tell him that in no time, he'll be back to his usual job: stress-free and not responsible for saving the nation from a crisis that may result in future generations growing up in poverty and political instability.

She'll hear him out as he rants about the mess Azar and those fuckers ("Language, Al Haitham!") had left him. And how everyone was so reliant on the Akasha terminals and the sages' leadership that when all that disappeared, they were clueless. They can't function anymore. Systems fall apart. People stop working. And because of that, he has to do everything on his own, and he's so tired and-

The sizzling sound has stopped. Is it dinner time already?

But he doesn't want to get up. Not now. Just ten more minutes, please?

There's a faint scraping sound. A spatula against a wok. If he tries hard enough, he can hear a plopping sound. So, it's a stew. He hopes it's Sabz Meat stew. That's his favourite.

How long has it been since he had a homemade meal?

Footsteps. Ok, no ten minutes, then. He'll get up.

Wincing, he sits up. His whole body aches. His knees feel sore. That's weird. He hadn't fallen or hit anything, but he feels bruises forming all over his arms and legs.

Trying to adjust to the bright light, Al Haitham slowly opens his eyes. He's in a small living room. Huh, he doesn't remember his grandmother moving. She never had this couch he was resting on either. Or the wooden coffee table in front. Or that many Liyue magazines.

"Ah, you're awake!"

That's not his grandmother's voice. Wait, what did her voice sound like again?

Al Haitham whips his head towards the voice so fast he pulls a neck muscle. Groaning, he reaches for his neck, massaging it before attempting to turn around, slowly this time.

"Hey, relax!"

There's a soft click from behind, and then frantic footsteps. Someone runs around the couch.

It's a woman. Not his grandmother.

Oh.

Oh yeah. Of course, it isn't her.

"Are you feeling alright?"

Hah, what was he doing, dreaming? Someone like him? Dreaming?

"Uh…sir?"

Of course, it isn't her. The dead can't come back to life. He's alone now. He has been for the past decade.

"…sir?"

He'll always be alone. Now, and for the foreseeable future. If he can even ensure that Sumeru still has one.

There's a hot sensation on his face, snapping him out of his thoughts. It's the woman again. This time with a bowl in her hand, holding it right in front of him.

He'd recognise that aroma anywhere. It's Sabz Meat stew.

"Um, I'm not sure what's going on," she says, placing the bowl into his hands. "But why don't you eat first?"

She pulls the coffee table closer towards him and walks back behind the couch to retrieve cutlery from the kitchen and a plate of rice. Laying them on the coffee table, she then sits on the floor, watching him.

"I didn't add lemons, but I can get you some if you want?" she asks when he doesn't move.

A minute passes. Al Haitham can't move. He can't, and he honestly doesn't want to.

What's the point of moving? Everything moves too fast. He'll never catch up. There's too much. There will always be proposals he can't clear in time. A question he can't answers right now. A policy he needs time to understand. Time that he doesn't have. Time that Sumeru can't afford to lose. He'll always be behind. And because of that, Sumeru will fall behind. Because of him.

It's almost funny. Before all this, he had never worried about being behind. He barely worried about anything.

"Come on," she prompts, taking a spoonful of rice and handing it to him when he still doesn't move. "Eat. You'll feel better after you eat."

Al Haitham doesn't have the energy to resist or deny her. Taking the spoon, he dips it into the bowl, letting the rice soak up some of the stew before lifting it to his mouth.

And suddenly, he's 19 again. He's in the dining room, having dinner with his grandmother again. She's lecturing him about spending too much time alone at home. Again.

"You may not understand now, Al Haitham. But there are people out there- good people. People willing to listen, be patient with you, and shoulder burdens with you. Comfort you."

Al Haitham reaches over to scoop another spoonful of rice. His eyes feel funny. So does his nose.

"You are never alone, child. I just want you to know that. "

Am I really?

Then just send one person, please. I'm waiting.

I've been waiting for a long time now.

"And one day, you may find someone that you can bare your soul to-you do have a soul, child. Everyone has one- no, yours isn't as dark as that 'black coffee'."

His vision is blurry now. With hydro. How strange. He chomps down another spoonful of stew. It's delicious. He hasn't had comfort food like this in a long, long time.

Just one sign. Please. I can't do this anymore.

"But until then, grandma is here to stick by you, hm? Until you stop being stubborn and go make friends!" 

The woman shifts in her seat on the floor. In his peripheral, he sees her reach over to a box, pulling out tissues.

She moves closer to him, a little bit hesitantly. But when she realises that he isn't moving away, she gently dabs his eyes with the tissue.

"There, there?" she comforts awkwardly. She then reaches over to pat his back. "It's gonna be ok. Just let it out."

And that's all it takes. It's so weird. Hydro Tears begin to flow freely. He chokes back a sniffle.

She doesn't stop patting his back. The weight of her palm is comforting- almost grounding.

He cries. In the presence of an absolute stranger, he cries ten years worth of tears in a night.

Later on, as he drifts off back into the realm of sleep to the rhythmic pats on his back, Al Haitham wonders if this is what his grandmother meant.

Maybe there really are people that are willing to stand by someone like him.

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[ash5monster01]

Getaway Camp : Two

Pairing: Charlie Dalton x FemReader

Warnings: mentions of drinking, language, sexual innuendos, blatant staring, physical attraction, mentions of drowning, fluff.

Summary: Charlie ends up attending staff orientation hung over. It doesn’t help that he has to spend the entirety of it with Valerie in a bathing suit. Maybe summer wasn’t off to such a great start.

word count: 3.4k

Masterlist

One ←→ Three

June 5th 1961

When the camp bugle goes off at 7am sharp, awaking each of the staff, Charlie finds himself instantly groaning from the sound. He had never been hungover in his life, until now. The sound rung in his ears and he definitely didn’t get enough sleep to work off the drinking from last night, but today was his first day. The day he learned all the necessary things needed to stay employed and away from home. It should be easy, right now it was not.

“Rough night?” Andy, his room mate, snickers from his bed on the opposing side of the room. Charlie only groans in response again, pressing his palms into his eyes to relieve some of the tension.

“No more drinking for me this summer” Charlie finally says, sitting up and realizing very quickly that he needed a shower.

“Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts big guy” Andy chuckles, and Charlie briefly recalls a moment from the night that was entirely too fuzzy this morning. Valerie had walked him here but what did he say to her? Before he could think it through, Andy was pulling his staff shirt over his head, and moving towards the door. “We got an hour till breakfast, I suggest you do everything you can to recover by then”

“Thanks” Charlie muttered as Andy slipped out the door to go off and do whatever it was he needed to do. Charlie still wasn’t sure he’d establish a friendship with the guy just yet, but he couldn’t count it out. Since the moment he had gotten here, he had been fairly surprised.

Forcing himself up Charlie found a stray water bottle and chugged majority of it down. Digging in his bag he was able to find some ibuprofen and he finished off the water bottle with that. Now on the road to recovery he grabbed his Staff shirt and some fresh clothes to start the trek to the showers. Grabbing his caddy and towel he made his way to the West showers, taking Valerie’s advice about the South ones. Finally leaving the showers dressed in fresh clothes and hair damp on top his head, he figured breakfast would be the last to his cure, and he’d be good to go for the rest of the day.

The walk to the mess hall from staff camp wasn't terrible, but with the hot 80 degree sun pounding down on his hungover eyes, he deemed it the worst hike he had ever done. He needed some coffee and the largest stack of pancakes he could find, or he would never survive the rest of the day.

"Hey Ace, beautiful morning!" the now newly familiar voice called and Charlie looked up from his feet to find Valerie stood beside Levi. She wore cotton shorts and her white Staff hoodie with the eagle symbol stitched delicately on the side. Her red bathing suit peaked out the top of her zipper and suddenly his entire mouth went dry. Not only was she still the most gorgeous thing he has laid his eyes on but she called him Ace. Nobody had called him Ace since Mr. Keating.

"Not really" Charlie finally grumbled back as he reached them and Levi let out a heavy laugh, his red swim trunks tight around his legs and white staff shirt spread across his chest. What a duo these two were.

"Sounds like you need Val's hangover special" Levi said as Charlie passed him, clapping his hands over Charlie’s shoulders and following behind as they reached the mess hall. Charlie chuckled, enjoying the cool breeze the air conditioning let into the mess hall. He had a feeling this would be his favorite spot at camp.

"What's that? Another drink?" he curiously asks, looking over his shoulders just to spot the brunette girl, all long tan legs and wavy brown hair.

"I take offense to that, I'm not an alcholic" she defends, arms crossed over her chest and only further exencuating her body in that gorgeous red suit.

"He's got a point Val, for someone who drank more than any of us, you seem awfully chipper" Levi says as he lets go of Charlie, guiding him towards a table they could all share.

“Sorry I can handle my alcohol better than two big guys” she responds, sarcasm dripping from her tone and even though Levi laughs, Charlie’s reminded of her whispering ‘big guy’ to him last night and suddenly he’s hot all over again.

“We’re just teasing Val, but hey at least one of us is bushy-tailed enough to handle orientation” Levi grins at her before starting towards the line of similarly dressed staff, making their way through the lunch line and feeling up for the day.

“Come on Ace, let’s get you my hangover cure” she smiles at Charlie, hazel green eyes dazzling. Charlie moves without even questioning it, steady with her step in the direction Levi just went.

Charlie doesn’t say a word as he just stands and holds his tray that Valerie continues to pile food on. His mouth waters with each scoop and then dries every time she flashes him that pretty white smile. It’s not long until he has an eccentric array of foods across his tray, majority that Charlie is uncertain of with the way his stomach feels. He allows it any way, following Valerie like a lost puppy back to the table Levi was already sat at, now accompanied by Nate and Alex. Charlie realizes it’s fairly normal for Valerie to be the only girl amongst her friends and he briefly wonders why.

"Eat up, you have a big day ahead of you" Valerie encourages before sitting and digging in. Charlie follows suit, obeying even though the last thing he wanted was eggs covered in maple syrup. Even the sausage was making him nauseous but he had all this food and now his only option was to eat it.

"You were crazy last night man, we warned you about trying to keep up with Valerie" Nate says with a snort, shoving a piece of bacon in his mouth. Charlie shrugged, doing his best to slowly chew his food and keep the nausea at bay.

"Leave him alone, let's talk about you and Mia" Evelyn said, wiggling her eyebrows at her friend who just rolled his eyes in response. Yet Nate gets saved when a sharp voice of a woman fills the room.

“Welcome Staff Campers to the 1961 summer season!” the room erupts in cheers, reverberating against the wooden walls, tables, chairs, and floor. Charlie has a feeling he’d be quite tired of looking at wood after living in it for the next three months.

“I’m Martha Adler, Samuel Adler’s wife. Majority of you know me from previous seasons but my job is simply to be in charge of all of you. Do not let this sound threatening. I simply want us to have the best summer together so if you need something, please come to me” chatter goes amongst the tables in the room. Previous campers with fond faces and new ones slightly panicked.

“Martha is the best” Valerie leans over to whisper in Charlie’s ear and he swallows hard as the hair rises on his arms just from the close proximity.

“Today and the rest of this week is built for everyone to prepare for our summer campers. I promise I will try to make it as easy on you as possible. You guys are here because you’re the best at what you do but for safety reasons, we still have to train. So please, for my sake, try your best to get through it. I know you all partied hard last night but we gotta push through. So do your best and make me proud” the crowd chuckles, all knowing exactly what kind of festivities they got up to last night. Charlie and Valerie included.

“For my previous campers you know how this works but for my new ones, you’ll be split into groups. So after breakfast the children camp counselors are to report to the kids camp, food service will stay here in the mess hall, water sports will meet at the dock, guest services at the head lodge, sports counselors at the gym, entertainment staff in the amphitheater, and head counselors will meet in my office” Martha fired off, eyeing the clipboard in her hands and very clearly having this down to a system now. Charlie internally groaned as he realized his category correlated with Valerie’s. He wasn’t sure he could survive much longer with her imagining exactly what that bathing suit looked like.

“You let me get drunk knowing we had to spend all day training in the heat, didn’t you?” he whispered to Valerie and she just grinned as she shrugged her shoulders.

“I am not in a position to either confirm or deny that” she tells him, knocking her shoulder with his own and he chuckles. Aimless flirting aside he was beginning to understand the fondness that surrounded Valerie. Why she had been so welcomed into these group of boys. She was different, in a good or bad way, Charlie wasn’t sure yet.

“I have a feeling this will be the best summer season yet and my best staff to date. So let’s make this one to remember for years to come and most of all, have fun!” Martha Adler finishes out, the staff erupting in cheers and clearly holding high adoration for this place. Charlie had just assumed everyone worked here for some conspicuous reason but as he sees the happy faces around him, he realizes some people just really love it here.

“You ready Val?” Levi asks, his plate of food somehow already vanished and Valerie smiles as she grabs a piece of bacon from her mainly empty plate.

“As I’ll ever be” she tells him before standing and Charlie can’t hide the confused look on his face as he watches the two begin to leave with their trays. Valerie clocks it quickly and bends down to offer him that signature sweet smirk of hers.

“Don’t worry, we’ll see you at the dock. We’ve got some business to attend too” she tells him and Charlie nods, swallowing some of his food as the pair begin to leave the table and dispose of their trays. Charlie tries to ignore the burning jealousy in his stomach as he sees Levi rest his arm across her shoulders.

It’s not long until Charlie’s stomached his entire breakfast. As much as he hates to admit it, he was feeling exceptionally better and Valerie had been right. He figured that would be the common theme for the majority of his summer, doubting her and being proven wrong. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. He was only supposed to suffer through this just to avoid his father and now he was already having all consuming thoughts about a girl he met yesterday. So as he headed in the direction of the lake he tried to give himself a pep talk. He could ignore her, she was just a girl. It’s not like he couldn’t man up and avoid her. They just met, he still had the power to deny her.

“Shit” he freezes in his tracks, fellow campers behind him cursing as they have to abruptly stop to avoid running into him. Yet Charlie can’t move. With the dock now in view he could see Valerie, free of her shorts and sweatshirt, red bathing suit tight to her skin and high up her hips. She must’ve already been in the water based on how her long brunette curls were dripping down her back. She was ethereal and he realized fairly quickly he had no power over this at all. He had to face it head on, and that was the only thing to get him to continue in the direction of the dock.

"Alright, looks like about everyone is here!" Valerie called out, offering a fresh smile to all the faces of water correlated staff. Charlie shifted on his feet, trying to look at anything but her.

"For those of you who don't know, I'm Levi and this is Valerie. We're your head lifeguards and will be assisting you with your training today" Levi smiles, all tall and strong in his bright red shorts. He wasn't wet from the water just yet but he had already gotten rid of his shirt and suddenly Charlie was self concious. Something he had never been before.

"Don't worry, it's just the basics. Ways to save people from drowning, CPR, normal swimming safety" Valerie smiles out amongst the crowd before letting her eyes linger a touch longer on Charlie. That comforts him for only a moment before he realizes the men amongst the group are eyeing her just as him. It hadn't even been a day and he was already placing claim and burning with jealousy. He wouldn't surive the summer if Valerie picked someone over him.

“Who are we practicing CPR on?” a boy shouts from the back of the crowd, suggestion filling the air around them and the group snickers. Yet Valerie doesn’t even flinch, taking it with stride.

“Well normally the CPR dummies but I’m sure you could persuade Levi if you feel more comfortable practicing on a human” the crowd laughs again and Valerie’s eyes shine with mischief. She was clearly used to comments from the young guys.

“If that’s the only question then why don’t we get started. Split off into two groups, one with me and the other with Val” Levi announces and everyone is off, majority of the boys trying to end up with Valerie and the girls with Levi. When her group gets too large she begins to turn them away, smiling to soften the blow as they get put with Levi.

“While Levi does CPR training we’ll practice water safety and switch. Let’s see what you guys know first” and just like that Valerie is firing off questions, answers being shouted back as she smiles pridefully at each one. When she’s done with her spiel, she flashes a grin as she looks amongst them all.

“Now to practice, everyone buddy up!” she claps her hands and previous campers turn quickly to friends, pairing up with people they know, and laughing together just like it’s old times. Charlie’s so distracted by it he suddenly realizes there is no one left to partner up with.

“Looks like we got an odd man out, that’s okay. Come buddy up with me” Valerie waves her hand over and Charlie obeys, ushering to her side. He feels slightly embarrassed he somehow keeps ending up in this position. Always with her.

“I didn’t do this on purpose” he tells her quietly and she laughs, shaking her head while the buddies wait for further instruction.

“Okay, now using what you just learned, practice how to save one another. Yes everyone has to take turns drowning and saving” groans fall out of each of the staffs mouths and Valerie laughs, finding amusement in it all. The staff campers obey even if they vocalized their disapproval.

“Alright coach how should we go about this?” Charlie asked, stretching his arms and making a show of preparing to practice. Valerie lightly laughs, eyes scanning around to make sure everyone was doing exactly what they needed to be before giving him her attention. The splashes around them proved it to be true so she finally relaxed.

“Well considering I’m not the one who needs to practice I should probably be the one to drown” she tells him and Charlie nods, chestnut eyes darting to the lake as he pretends to consider it.

“That might be for the best” he finally says and Valerie snorts, enjoying the playful nature that she worked so hard to get out of the boy.

“Yeah, and why’s that?” she curiously asks and he flashes a smile, lips twitching as if he had a secret he hasn’t quite shared with her yet.

“Let’s just say if they had told me what you looked like in a bathing suit I would’ve never taken the job” Charlie whispers, leaning close and eyes darkening only slightly. Valerie finds herself blushing, not expecting the comment and unable to hide her surprise.

“I don’t know if I should take offensive to that or not?” she tells him and Charlie chuckles, hand rubbing his jaw as he processes her words and tries to keep his eyes from wandering down her body.

“I mean that in the least offensive way possible” he tells her and Valerie feels her heart flutter in her chest, unable to stop it due to how at ease he made her felt. Charlie was different. She knew it the moment she saw him and now she knew she had made the right decision in getting to know him.

“How about we save this conversation for later? For now, try to make sure I don’t die” and before Charlie could say another word she was diving into the water with ease, disappearing under the surface and leaving only the slightest reflection of red. When she breaks through she offers him a smile and Charlie knows there is no fighting it now.

"Aren't you gonna make a show of it?" he curiously asks, pulling his shirt over his head and she laughed before spalshing her arms, adding great detail of her head bobbing under the water, calling out words like 'help', 'Charlie', 'save me'. Other staff looked on from their own practice and Charlie rolled his eyes before jumping in the water just as she had taught. Red float tucked under his arms, legs closing together tightly, and head never going under the surface as he made his way to her.

What he didn't think through was how on fire he would feel the moment he touched her skin. His hands gripping her arms as he holds her above the surface, her bare legs brushing against his own as he tried to pull her close and not slip off the float. It was proven to be difficult due to her attempts at keeping herself above water, taking the fake drowning a little too serious. Charlie stayed calm and tried to pretend it wasn't Valerie he was saving as he manuevered her into a position that he could tread her back to the dock. She calmed her drowning act down, smiling at how well he had done at practice. Charlie had never learned water safety before but he grew up in a preporatory school his whole life. Sadly he was pretty good at making sure things stuck the first time around.

"Wow, look at you" she smiled as they reached the dock and somehow her hazel eyes shined brighter in the face of the water. Just as easy to drown in, Charlie figured it wouldn't be long until he was the one who needed to be saved.

"I learned from the best" he told her smoothly and she tipped her head to him before lifting herself onto the dock. All long legs and tight red suit, water dripping fastly down her body and he tensed up, eyes darting anywhere but the curve of her hips and fully round-

"You coming?" she asked, hand held out to him and body bent over. Charlie swallowed at the sight of her cleavage and quickly looked away.

"I might stay in the water a bit, nice and refreshing" he tells her unconvincingly and she only raises her eyebrows before lifting back up. Let him be, she turns to find majority of the staff had stopped their practicing to watch the two of them.

"Come on slackers, let's see what you got" and just like that the other boys and girls go right back to practicing. Showcasing their skills for Valerie so she would hopefully send them off early from training and let them get a head start on partying.

Charlie treads in the cool water, allowing his heart to slow and his mind to stop reeling. He watches as the other practice what he had just done and other techniques made for saving someone in danger. Some of the pairs clearly had done this before or been trained in it themselves. He briefly wonders what qualifications he even had to teach rowing here. He only ever was on the team in Welton and the only coaching he ever had was Nolan with a megaphone yelling at them to go faster. Panic slowly starts to fill his chest but then his eye's catch Val's and she offers him a soft wink. For a brief moment, he realizes everything just might be okay.

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[double-0h-no]

Doctor's Note

Prompt fill for both 3000 words and medical staff. This is a… very different kind of thing. Not my usual perspective, not my usual style of writing, but hey, this here is to try new things, and I had fun writing this. I hope you enjoy :)

on ao3

What's it like being a Doctor for Medical at MI6? Well, it goes a bit like this…

Hi. You must be the new Doctor working here, right?

I'm Hermine Dalton, pleasure to meet you. I've been with Six for longer than I'd like to admit to, and I'll be showing you the ropes the next few days and weeks. So, if you've got any questions, fire away. Should I at any point not be around, the nurses know more about the way of things than I do. All right, let's not dawdle. And welcome to the team.

***

Right, so we have a couple of divisions that you're not really used to from a normal hospital, and obviously, we're completely lacking others. No paediatrics, no oncology, stuff like that. A lot more forensic medicine and maybe in ways you're not entirely used to. And we have an intersection with Q-branch, if you're interested in that, namely with R&D where we have some guys who work on toxins and antitoxins and some creative biological weapons. That sounds a lot more malicious than it is, the creative part is mostly about how to target it and prevent the agents from accidentally injecting themselves with it or something similar. Should you wind up there at some point I have one advice for you: Trust the Q-branchers there. If they say "we can't do it like that, the agents will totally do this and that with it", no matter how outlandish it sounds, trust them. They know what they're talking about. All safety regulations are written in blood, and all that.

***

So this is where you'll start out. I know it's not the most exciting, but it'll give you a bit of time and peace to ease into things. So, most of this is from some sort of ongoing investigation. We have a colour coding system for prioritising those things, there's a list on the server. Take your time familiarising yourself with everything, I'm sure you'll get the hang of it fast enough. Tomorrow you can join me for my round with the current patients.

***

Good morning, so glad you'll join me. So, we don't have a whole lot of patients at any time, usually not more than five who are supposed to stay here. When I left last night, we had six patients, let's see how it looks this morning.

Why? Oh, let's just say there is a certain type of patient who is less than inclined to stay put.

Stop them? Oh, no, love. We... it's a recent thing, admittedly, one I've managed to painstakingly build up. It's... Let me explain this to you over a cup of tea after. Let's see the patients first, yeah?

***

So, that's them. Only four patients left, admittedly, but I would have made that bet. Let me show you what we do now.

Of course we'll have a coffee over it. What else is there to do? And we'll take a look at this nice little document there. Okay, so the people who were here last night and aren't anymore, that's Agent Booth, and 004. So, Booth wasn't hurt too badly, he was supposed to stay because we suspected he might have a concussion. He has a wife here in Six, she works in accounting, and they have two kids. So him not being here just means that he wants home to go and see them, and I sent his wife an email when he was admitted. She knows about his medical status, I'm not worried about him, so we'll let it go. Prep the paperwork for him to sign as soon as he's back at work, backdating it all, so that the bureaucracy monster working on the fourth floor is fed and satisfied.

Now, 004, that's a different thing. She had a... Sorry. Sometimes the job still gets to me, too. But she had a... fucked up mission. I don't want her to be alone for even a second, and she's in no good condition healthwise, either. What I do now is, I pull up the Double Oh roster, and check where 003 and 007 are. Three is out in the field, so that road's blocked. Seven is in London. Great. Let me just text him real quick.

Okay. That's done. And now we can only hope and pray.

How I know what? Oh, the mission. Yeah, no, we're not supposed to - hm. Hm. See, that's... It's easier to do than you might think. And not all agents take it too seriously. I know you've only been here for two days, and you already picked up on the reputation of Double Ohs, but...

Yes, they are the worst patients you could wish for. Horrible. Rude. Don't keep to any of your orders. But... They're our patients. I care for them. And with most of them, I've managed to build a rapport. They trust me with details of their missions, so I happen to know more than I'm supposed to. Sometimes, you find out things because you treat them. You'll get practised at it eventually, recognise certain types of injuries, all that. And other times, you have to ask, because maybe they've ingested something, or you need to know what happened to be able to judge how deep the injuries might be, how likely a concussion is, questions are important.

What that third column is? It's their handlers. Let's go through the list real quick. You will not be needing it for a good long while. Treating Double Ohs takes a bit of time until you're at a point where you can make decisions for them without them raising hell on you. But I hope the insight will help you a bit. So the first two columns are the agents and their designations. The next two are their usual handlers. They might change in between missions, but those are the two they trust the most.

If an agent comes in and they are in a really bad shape, you contact their handler as soon as they're stable and look human again. Q-branch needs to know that their charge is home safe and sound. If an agent acts up while they have a bed here, just being a little bitch, pardon my French here, you can also call their handler, and they usually get the agents in line. Do it surreptitiously, though. The agents have not yet caught on to me strategically ordering Q up when I need to get them in line, and I'd rather keep it like that for as long as possible.

Next column is significant others or people that the agents themselves have cleared for me divulging medical information and all. It's empty for a lot of them, but that's usually not as much of an issue as it sounds.

Next columns are people to send after them if they pull a runner. That one I know by heart. The trick is finding out who's available. Scarlett's first contact is, and always will be, Tanner from admin upstairs. Don't know why, I don't ask, don't care. But Tanner's busy, and I have the feeling that she would appreciate someone who knows what it's like to come back from... that. So one of the other Double Oh, then you pull up the roster, check whether they're in, and Bob's your uncle.

Okay, I know that was a lot, but you're a quick study. I know you've heard all the horror stories about our most notorious patients but... Well, I'm sure you'll figure them out. Just don't -- Don't listen too much to others.

***

Oi, come over here, I need another pair of hands! Don't just stand there, it's only blood and there will be more if you don't put your hands right here!

Thank you! Fuck! Fuck!

007, get out of the way now, you did your part, we'll take over from here. We've got her, she's safe.

***

Fuck, I need more coffee. Thanks for that. Sorry for just jumping that on you and barking orders but -- Oh. Yeah, thanks. That doesn't usually happen, mind. By the time we take care of the patients, they're usually not in any immediate danger anymore. We do surgeries, but they're stable, not bleeding out anymore. At least when they get a medevac. 007 has a horrible track record of dragging his sorry arse all the way to London by himself, no matter his physical state. But still... This is not a regular occurrence. Hold on --

Bill? Yeah, she's in room two. She's not awake yet but I don't think she should be alone. Yeah, I sent James after -- Oh hush, you know better than that. She badly pulled those stitches of hers and -- Yeah, I think so. I mean she had wet hair and was scarcely dressed, so... Go see her. Can she stay with you, if she doesn't want to hang around? I'll make sure no one's watching. Thanks.

***

Now, how was your first week? Eventful enough? Exactly what you expected from working at Six?

Yeah I bet. Hope we haven't scared you off. Have a nice weekend, and see you on Monday.

***

Oh, hello. Had a nice weekend? What can I help you with?

What was that? Oh, yes, that's... Yes. I see. Of course. Let's... I'll be right with you. What did you say that they did in Q-branch that caused this?

Right. Of course. Just a regular Monday morning, right?

***

I'd like you to assist me this afternoon, if you don't mind. We've got 007 coming in from his latest mission and he's being transported back in with a medevac. It's not too bad, nothing you haven't seen before in clinic.

***

So, how was that for your first foray into Double Oh field medicine?

Oh no, I dare say he was perfectly pleasant, actually. Oh you sweet summer child. No. That was him being kind.

All right, now, what do you know about the mission?

No no, not the things that Bond told us, however begrudgingly. The rest.

Like what? The wound on his shoulder, for example.

Oh no, that's... older. That shoulder is just banged up. If you want a case study in "how is that human body still moving?", I recommend the files of 004, 007, and the previous 006. He retired, so he, too, is still moving around, just not in active service anymore. No, what I mean is the cuts that we tended to. What happened there?

It's all right, there's no shame in not knowing. I've spent years here learning to read between the lines, and you can do your job without ever questioning the pattern of injuries. Now, what I gather from those wounds is an explosion. The way those scratches were scattered, the kind of shrapnel we got out of the wounds, it all looks like an explosion inside of a building.

Then there's the bruising. It's on the opposite side, so that suggests - exactly, the blast probably flung him into a wall. There were marks on his thighs and arms that suggest close combat. The marks on his neck were the thing prompting me to ask whether wants to get tested.

Why I offer? Most agents are really conscientious about that part. Not 001, but then, I never have to treat him, either. He's sexist like that.

Thanks for your help, by the way. Don't count on Bond hanging around for the night, though. He's mobile enough, he might make a run for it.

***

Oh, hi. Sure I have a moment, what's up?

Whether what--? Oh. Oh!

Right. Sometimes I forget you've not been here for ages with how well you've managed to settle in. No, no, take the compliment.

So Q snuck up here with dinner for Bond yesterday evening? That's kind of him.

Did he? Well, usually I'd say, do with that what you will, but remember one thing, in this very specific case: There is such a thing as plausible deniability. Should two people who work together as closely as an agent and their handler be in a relationship, that might end their working relationship here. There are precautions to be met and everything. Unless that's inconvenient, because they clearly work well together and who would disrupt that. So sometimes, there's nothing where there's something, and everybody knows unless someone comes asking, you see?

Yes, they are. It was the most exciting thing I've seen happen here. They're actually good for each other, if you can believe it. A lid for every pot, as my gran used to say.

004 and Tanner? Oh Lord, no. She's the godmother to his daughters, though. I think they served together. Oh, yes, Tanner's a military man. Doesn't look like it, does he? No, from what I know, they were in some deep shit together and have been inseparable ever since.

Other gossip? I mean, someone probably warned you about the Double Ohs being prone to sexual advances, especially if they think they can wheedle some special treatment out of you. Everything else, I won't tell. I'm sure you've caught plenty on your own.

Now tell me, how's your first month been? Ready to take on your own patients?

***

Hey, could you fetch me a rape kit real quick? I don't want to leave her alone.

She's an agent, she says she's fine, all part of the job, but... She's only human, too, you know?

Thank you.

***

My goodness, I've got to tell you what just happened. So, you know how Nomi's currently here? Well, she just woke up, incredibly high on pain meds, and I went through the usual questions, who are you, do you know where you are, what day is it, and she answered it in absolute Double Oh fashion, and then we got to the current events question and i asked her who the current prime minister is, and she just groaned and mumbled "Don't make me say it'' and I think that counts, too, doesn't it?

Anyway, Miss Moneypenny showed up shortly after, awfully chipper for a Friday afternoon, and spent over an hour in there for the debrief. A bit long for a person who can't string two coherent thoughts together, don't you think?

***

Hey, can you take over Trevelyan's check up for me? My sister's in town and I'd love to meet up with her if you -- Oh thank you so much, you're a lifesaver.

Have you ever had the pleasure? No? Oh, well, it's rather easy, though he might try to get under your skin. Don't let him, he's all bark and no bite. Terry will be here, too -- yeah, PT, that's him, and Camilla from Q-branch -- I know, I know it sounds like a big thing, but it really isn't. Just routine check up, we just all pool together because it's more convenient. Trevelyan is Q-branch's test bunny for their new prosthesis that they're trying to link to his neural pathways and muscle impulses to use a robotic prosthetic that can react to those impulses. Mostly it's Camilla and Trevelyan talking and you and Terry looking pretty until your expertise is called upon.

Yeah, they're actually on to something there. Last time Alec started asking whether they could weaponise the thing, and I'm living in fear ever since.

Oh, right, that was before you. Trevelyan was 006, not too long ago, and he has a propensity for arson and explosions.

Still has, I meant what I said. He occasionally helps out in Q-branch. Those are usually the days when the fire alert goes off somewhere in the building.

I have a note with my standard questions and procedures for this meeting so I don't forget anything, I'll forward that to you. Alec will answer the questions before you can ask them, he knows them by heart.

Thank you so much, I owe you one. No, really. If I can jump in for you at some point, please let me know. All right. Thanks. See you!

***

Yeah, I heard. How... Well, stupid question, but how bad is it?

It's crazy, isn't it? When it's agents, that's no big deal, but Q? I ran into James -- Yeah, probably why he didn't kick up a fuss. You're welcome, but it really only was a coincidence. That man looked murderous, and I would know.

Yeah, he's in there with Q now. And I don't think he'll leave his side. I think M officially assigned him as Q's security detail now. We'll have to take care of the visitors. Not too many and all that. Not a problem we usually seem to have, but there's a first time for everything, huh?

Anything broken?

Cracked ribs are a bitch. I bet he's glad it's not his fingers. God, that's morbid. Okay, I gotta get going. I've got a meeting with the Head of Department.

Don't call him that! You're insulting those old and cranky dragons with that comparison.

Yeah, I also shudder to think what this is about. I'll let you know as soon as I'm done. Take care of the head boffin for me, will you?

***

I know, I can't believe it either! Head of Medical! Look at me, having even less time for my patients from here on out.

No, it's... Wow. Still can't believe it. Then you've got a new old and cranky dragon to complain about.

Thank you so much.

Hey, what would you say to a promotion?

***

I can't anymore. Just shoot me, please. Or let me take a good, deep breath from one of the funny gases we have around. Chloroform, nitrous oxide, I'm not picky.

I mean, I knew that the budget meeting had the potential to be my Waterloo, but this... It's so disgusting to argue for a budget that's supposed to keep people alive. No, we can't cut back on our expenses for the blood bank, we actually need that considering the state of our agents. Goodness.

***

Come on, hon. Go home. You did what you could, and nobody will feel better if you run yourself ragged. You did well. Good night.

[st4rwon]

stars and raindrops

4. seungmin grew balls

looking at the stars, the only thing seungmin could think about was you, that’s why he loved them so much. the regret of breaking up had filled your hearts, so when you run into each other after a year what happens?

warning: swearing, some miscommunication(?), yn overthinking

a/n: i read this over a couple times and it still doesn’t seem right to me, but i give up TT sorry this isn’t my best work!!

word count: 1.8k

you followed closely behind changbin and jisung, who were walking over to chan. you felt your heart beat increasing and your palms getting a bit sweaty.

‘it’s been a year, it's okay. you’re going to be okay’ you said to yourself in your head

and that’s when you saw him.

just looking at seungmin made your heart flutter, his soft brown bangs, which fell on top of his round eyes, and of course his adorable puppy-like smile. seungmin turned over to look over to look at the three of you walking towards them, his eyes widening as he made eye contact with you. you paused for a second, taking a small breath, and then continuing on. you would be okay.

“hey” you said, greeting the boys in front of you. the boys all greeted you, though you could feel the tension slowly building. everyone had exchanged greetings and talking with one another for a minute before eventually running out of things to say. “so…” chan started, “what should we do?” he questioned . everyone looked around at each other before hearing someone’s stomach growl, “let’s go get an actual meal?” hyunjin asked, “yeah i bet some of us here have only been on coffee for the last twenty four hours” felix joked, chan rolled his eyes “the songs won’t produce themselves” he shrugged. “what do you guys want to eat?” jisung asked.

eventually you all decided on a restaurant to eat at and fortunately it wasn’t too far from where you currently were, just a quick five minute walk down the street.

you could’ve sworn you felt eyes piercing at the back of your head while on the walk over to the restaurant, turning around to check who it was. you weren’t surprised to have your eyes meet with seungmin’s once again. your head quickly turned back, “everything okay?” asked changbin, who was walking beside you. “yeah, i’m okay” you muttered, though it was quite obvious to changbin that you were quite on edge.

your break up with seungmin had hit you really hard, he was by your side throughout it and seeing the state you were in broke his heart, but knowing the reason for your break up hurt him even more. changbin knew that you beat yourself up for the relationship ending. he just wished that he could get it through your head that it wasn’t your fault.

seungmin carefully examined you and changbin, were you two always this close? he shook his head, he wasn’t thinking straight. you both were “childhood friends and nothing more” well those were the words you had told him when you were dating. things probably have changed, or maybe not. it wasn’t his business anyway.

“y’know…” minho whispered, “i don’t think sulking is going to fix any of your problems.” seungmin scoffed, he knew minho was right but he was too upset to be mature about the situation. “i just don’t want to interfere with her life anymore. she is probably upset with me anyway.” he sighed. “if you didn’t want to interfere i’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be staring at her friend” minho chuckled “it’s not my place to be getting upset anyway, i’m not her boyfriend, and for all i know she probably hates me for what happened” “i’m pretty sure if yn didn’t like you she wouldn’t have come,” minho reasoned. “i can tell that you wanna make things better, but if you wanna do that you’re going to have to talk to her.”

seungmin nodded his head in response. the reason he was nervous to listen to his friend’s advice? he was afraid, afraid he would mess up again, that once again you would feel uncomfortable. but he pushed those negative thoughts away, he wanted to make things at least a little bit better and like minho said the process would start with a conversation.

after arriving to the restaurant you all took your places. you sat down next to changbin and chan, feeling the most comfortable around them. unexpectedly jeongin walked toward the area you were sitting, following right behind him was seungmin who was practically being dragged by his friend.

you awkwardly grinned at the two and they smiled back. “it’s alright if we sit here, right?” jeongin questioned, “yeah of course” you chimed. realistically you didn’t know if you would be okay if your ex was still sitting in front of you, the words had come out before you could think, which was a habit that you tended to do when nervous. as worrisome as you were about the situation, you knew that what you had with seungmin wasn’t something you could just throw away. even in the year you spent apart there were small things that you had learned from him that you continued to do. as much as you played the role of never wanting to see him again, it was a known fact that if seungmin ever let you have another chance, you would take it in a heartbeat.

across the table jeongin nudged seungmin in the arm, “what the fuck what that for?” seungmin whisper yelled, “talk to your lover” the mischievous boy mouthed out.

seungmin glared at the younger boy, he knew the comment was thrown out of concern, but jeongin’s way of showing it was always rather odd.

seungmin decided to give in to his friends advice, “yn…” he said, gaining your attention “how have you been?” for a second you genuinely thought you were hearing things, why was he talking to you? was this a blessing for dealing with changbin for your entire life? or a curse for accidentally spilling water on jisung’s notes last week? you didn’t know why the opportunity was presented to you, or what would come of it, but you were hopeful.

“i’m fine” you mumbled, silently cursing at yourself for giving such a blunt answer. there were millions of thoughts racing through your head, so many things you wanted to talk to him about, but nothing came out. you felt the same as you felt before, quiet, unable to say anything that came to mind. what had come over you? you fiddled with your fingers under the table “what about you?”

seungmin was beyond confused, you didn’t look like you were still mad at him, but why had you given him such a short, boring answer? still he decided to continue to at least have some sort of conversation with you, “i’ve been doing pretty well. i actually started to draw recently” he smiled, during the time you were together you had always encouraged seungmin to take his creative mindset somewhere, and after seeing all the doodles he had in his journal you thought drawing would be a great outlet for his creativity.

before you could respond, a waiter came to take your orders, chan went around the table making sure that everyone was able to get what they wanted. after everyone finished giving their order, you were going to reply back to seungmin, but noticed he was busy bickering talking with jeongin. felix was sitting a couple seats away from you and your eyes met his, “oh yn! how’s it going? is your professor still giving you a hard time?” you smiled at the fact that felix had remembered your previous conversation. you didn’t talk to him much, but something you noticed was his attention to detail, he always listened attentively to others and was able to recall any previous conversations.

“yeah i’m doing good, i actually just finished the mountain of assignments i had before coming here” you laughed

seungmin frowned at the two of you, sometimes he wished that he was as extroverted as his other friends, maybe then it would be easier to talk to you. or maybe it was just his personality that was off putting. he scoffed at himself for thinking these things, there was no use criticizing himself, it would change anything.

minho, who was talking to hyunjin and jisung, excused himself to check up on his friend. “overthinking again?” he asked with a frown. “i guess,” seungmin mumbled “i feel like i give her too much pressure when we speak, i mean she doesn’t look this nervous when talking to anyone else” “think about it minnie, you’re her ex and you’re talking to her after a year! of course she’s going to be nervous” “it’s too much work being your friend” jeongin signed. “i mean i can only give so much advice” “i swear jeongin, one more word out of you and i’m going to get hyunjin to burn your new bag” he threatened. “why is everyone after my bag” jeongin said, rolling his eyes. “he’s not wrong” minho smiled “but it’s worth it to see the growth of you”

seungmin thought about his friends words and continued to observe the conversation the you and felix were having, though after thinking about what minho has said and watching the conversation he smiled.

when the two of you were together, communication was something that you both struggled with. you never wanted to cause any worry around yourself, it led you to keep things to yourself. he could tell you felt uncomfortable whenever he brought up topics like school or family, so he decided to stop bringing them up. though that worsened the situation, by the end of your relationship seungmin was avoiding bringing up certain topics so much that it made every conversation you had feel incredibly awkward and you were putting on a fake smile in front of seungmin so he wouldn’t have to carry all your troubles.

but now you had grown, you were finally opening up a bit more. though you clearly still struggled with talking, you seemed less anxious compared to the last time he had seen you. just that had made seungmin feel so happy for you.

as you were chatting with felix you could feel a certain person’s eyes on you. it honestly scared you a bit to talk to him due to the fact that just minutes ago you could barely form responses to him. all the work you had put into trying to be better with speaking to others had disappeared when you spoke to seungmin. but even if you were afraid, did it give you the right to blatantly ignore him? you felt the guilt fill up and knew that you would have to speak to him eventually.

you took a sip of your drink, “so seungmin, you draw now?” you said looking toward the boy. seungmin lips perked up, “yeah, i picked up some practices from hyunjin. it’s pretty fun” you grinned at the way his eyes lit up as he spoke, the way they always did when he spoke about things he loved. “i’m glad you picked up something that makes you happy”

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