#and the pizza guy is down in the corner with no stalls in front of him so that is also not disruptive even if it gets busy

[somecunttookmyurl]

i have had a terrible awful no good very bad day

they moved a bubble waffle place into the (built in) unit right behind me. and when i say right behind i mean like.... 4ft.

i've had people shoving into me all day, leaning up against the back (working side. where i work) of my stall and generally crowding right over my shoulder because there is simply no fucking room back there

which also meant it was nigh impossible for me & babs to watch each other's stalls when going to the bathroom or whatever because people were just. in the way of that line of sight all the time. at the back of the stall. where the cash and personal belongings are. i've never had to pee so much in my LIFE

couldn't even pack up when i wanted to because i couldn't get around the outside of my own fucking stall

and of course, the noise. it's been so loud all day directly behind my earballs that i haven't been able to hear anybody on the other side of my stall. they haven't been able to hear me. the result of which is massively increased foot traffic but an 80% loss in sales.

everyone in our little corner did "worse than a slow quiet day" today but i took the biggest hit on account of being the one directly in front of it. turns out it's really hard to sell things to people when you can't talk to them! or get out to go around and show them things! who knew (sarcasm)

the icing on the cake then being having theft from my stall for the first time ever bc it turns out that crowd cover will help people do that so more than half of what little i scraped in today was wiped out

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Lighting Bug - Chapter 22

Masterlist

Warning: guilt, form of self-harm, swearing, mention of death, Bucky needs a hug, mention of nightmares and past abuse

Relationships: Wandanat x daughter!reader, Maria x reader (platonic), Sam x reader (platonic), Bucky x reader (platonic), Rhodey x reader (platonic)

Word count: 3.5k

You were exhausted right down to your bones as you sat at the counter with a cup of tea in your hands and stared into the green liquid. There was no way you were falling asleep with those images moving in your head. “Hey kid,” Sam said suddenly. You jumped at the unexpected voice. “Are you okay? Your bagel has been done for a few minutes.” You forgot you put one in there. You stood up to grab it but Rhodey held out his hand to stop you. He grabbed a plate and placed the bagel on it then spread on it that you must have gotten out. Gods, you were beginning to lose it. You smiled as he sat in front of you.

“I didn’t sleep well last night.” You answered Sam.

“Nightmares?” Rhodey guessed.

“More like a memory,” you took a bite of your bagel, hoping they wouldn’t ask more questions.

“Rhodes and I haven’t gone to the batting cage in a while. Do you want to join us?” Sam asked. You stared at him, slowly chewing on the bagel. You had no idea what a batting cage was. “It’s a baseball thing. You go and hit baseballs and pretend to be a pro athlete.”

“Ohhh,” you said, standing up to throw the other half of your bagel away. “You could have just said that.” Sam sighed, shaking his head. “Sure I have nothing planned for today.” Plus it would be nice to get out of the tower. “FRIDAY, can you tell Natasha and Wanda where I’m going to be?” You made a mental note to ask Tony for a new phone.

“Of course, Miss. Y/n,” the AI said. “Have fun you three.” It was a 45-minute drive from the tower in a part of town you had never been to. ‘Caesar’s Bat and Pizzeria.

“Can we get pizza after?” You asked as Rhodey parked the car and you unblocked your seat belt.

“We can get whatever you want,” he said. The three of you got out of the car and walked over to the building. Sam held open the door for you. The sound of loud arcade machines and laughter made you jump.

“My favorite Avengers!” A man said from behind a counter. “Where the hell have you two been? Thought you forgot about ol'Casear.” Sam chuckled.

“Hard to forget you, big man,” Caesar glared at him.

“Are you calling me fat?” You tried to cover your laugh with a cough but Caesar glanced at you. “You guys adopt a kid or something.”

“Eh kind of,” Rhodey shrugged. “You got a spot open for us.” The man continued to stare at you but you smiled and gave him a small wave.

“Yeah, same spot as always,” he said. “Come find me if you need anything.” You followed the two Avengers to a stall in the corner, there was no one next to you, and you were grateful to look like an idiot in front of some strangers. The space reminded you of the shooting range at the tower but instead of targets at the end, there was a screen.

“Wait,” you said, sitting down. “How is any of this safe with it being inside and this close to one another?” Sam smiled.

“It’s all VR,” he pulled out his wallet and pulled out his wallet, took out a car with the shop’s logo, and scanned it at the table you were sitting at. The table changed to a TV screen and it showed a baseball stadium. “You can change the stadium where you are hitting. We’ll keep it at Yankee for now.” Rhodey appeared with a bat and goggles. “Watch this.” You watched Rhodey put on the goggles and stepped into the open space. The screen changed to a character stepping up to bat. “You can change the speed of the ball pitched, complete challenges, and set up tournaments.” He began and he hit the first ball pitched to him. It sounded like you were at a baseball game.

“This is cool,” you said. “Is this place new?”

“Sort of,” Sam looked around to make sure no one was near and leaned closer. “Caesar isn’t from here.” What the hell did that mean?

“Come again? Like he’s not American.” He glared at you before rolling his eyes.

“No, like not from Earth.”

“He’s an alien?!” You half shouted in surprise. Sam put his hand over your mouth, still glaring at you. You pulled his hand off. “You just told me a man isn’t from Earth, how did you expect me to react?”

“With a little more respect and dignity,” you punched him playfully. “Besides he’s not an alien, he’s a Skrull,” you stared at him, head tilted to the side. “Oh my god,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Skrulls are shapeshifters and their planet was destroyed so until Fury and Carol can find them a new home, they are living here,” you frowned.

“Why can’t they just live here?” You asked.

“Because humans aren’t known to accept those who are different,” Rhodey said, taking off the googles. Well, you knew that firsthand. “Do you want a turn?” He asked you.

“Uh maybe I’ll watch Sam then I’ll go.” While Sam was taking his turn, you went to get drinks from Caesar’s daughter. Her name was Jasmine and you liked her, her smile was infectious but you couldn’t help but watch the father-daughter duo. If anyone but Sam told you they weren’t human, you would think they were crazy. You guessed that was the problem with the world you lived in, some people had to hide their true selves just to survive.

“Alright, kid, batter up,” Sam said, handing you the VR set. You smiled, taking it from him. Oh, you wished you could make the world a better place.

*

While Sam and Rhodey were waiting to get their pizza from Jasmine, you were sitting at one of the empty high tops and eating away at one of the cheese slices. You tried to wait for the two Avengers but the smell was making your stomach growl. “I know you,” Caesar said, walking over to you as you sipped on your blue Gatorade. You stared at the man as he sat in the empty chair next to you. You hopped he knew you, you spent like 2 hours at his fine establishment. “Hey,” he stuck his finger at you. “Your that teenager that can cast spells and shit.” You blinked at him.

“You mean conduct electricity.” He snapped his fingers.

“That’s the one,” he tapped his fingers against the table and looked at you then to the Avengers. “People are talking about you.”

“Me?” You questioned. “Whose talking about me?”

“The type of people you ain’t want talking,” Oh. Well, that sort of answered your question. “Look, kid, something ain’t right. People are talking, then disappearing, and ol’Caesar is just trying to run a business, you hear?”

“Why are you telling me this and not the two Avengers behind you?” You hissed, leaning closer to him.

“Hey, watch the attitude, short stuff,” you leaned back in your chair, mouth slightly open. “Just because I listen don’t mean I know what’s going on,” you rolled your eyes. “My advice is keep your ears open and listen. Maybe you can figure out what’s going on before everything goes to shit.” He mumbled the last part and left before Sam and Rhodey joined you.

“Don’t listen to anything that nut job rambles about,” Rhodey said. “He’s got a few screws loose.” You smiled, giggling slightly. But what he said rattled you to your bones. What the hell was going on?

*

Caesar was saying goodbye to Sam and told him to not be a stranger. Your eyes wandered to the small arcade they had. There was a crane game filled with small rubber ducks. You walked over to it and looked at all the different duck variations - one was dressed like a police officer, and another had a book. But one that caught your eye was a duck wearing a green jersey with a soccer ball. It looked familiar. There was a memory deep within you but everything you tried to grab onto it slipped out of your fingers like water or smoke, the longer you stared at the dumb duck. “Hey, kid,” Rhodey said. “Are you ready?” You nodded, walking over to him.

“Bye Caesar,” you waved as Rhodey held open the door for you.

“See you around, short stuff,” you rolled your eyes and walked to the car.

“Short stuff, eh?” Rhodey teased. He got into the driver’s seat. You huffed, buckling into the back.

“Don’t even start,” he laughed as Sam finally got into the passenger seat.

“Sorry about that. Caesar likes to talk,” you giggled and Rhodey started the drive back home.

*

“That was a lot of fun,” you said to Sam as you exited the elevator to the common floor. “We should do that again.” Your smile faltered as Bucky turned around from his conversation with Maria. The color drained from his face as if he were looking at a ghost. He left without another word to you, Sam, or Maria.

“Okay,” Maria slowly said. “I wasn’t done talking to him.” You sighed.

“Not your fault, kid,” Sam smiled, resting his hand on your shoulder. “He just needs to get out of his head. I’ll go talk to him.” Before he turned to leave, he reached into this pocket and handed you a rubber duck. The same one you were looking at. Before you could say anything, he smiled and left.

“What was that about?” She questioned. You looked at the duck and put it in your pocket.

“It’s a long story,” you said. “Do you want the spark-notes version of the story?” She nodded. So, you gave her a short-handed version of the story you gave to the other Avengers. It was surprisingly easier.

“Shit,” you said. “I missed one hell of a party.” You rolled your eyes with a smile. “So,” she leaned back in her chair. “A little spider told me that I’m going to be training you. Are you thinking about joining this ragtag group? Fury said you did well in Overwatch .” You shrugged, tracing the random designs on the table.

“I don’t know,” you said. You weren’t against being an Avenger, maybe in a year or two but right now you weren’t ready. “I just want to get my powers under control so I don’t hurt myself or anyone else.” Maria smiled.

“I can help with that but I’m not gonna go easy on you just because you are Romanoff’s kid,” it wasn’t the first time someone at the tower referred to you as Natasha’s or Wanda’s kid but every time a warm feeling spread across your body. Your parents were never proud of you. They barely gave you enough to survive.

“I expect nothing less,” you said. “Can you teach me how to shoot a gun?”

“Stop asking people that,” Natasha said before Maria could answer. The Black Widow appeared behind you. You pouted which caused her to roll her eyes.

“Awe come on Nat,” Maria said. “Let the kid learn how to shoot. Are you afraid she’ll be better than you?” Natasha ruffled your hair.

“Yeah,” she deadpanned. “That’s exactly why I don’t want her shooting a gun,” you pushed her hand away and fixed your hair. “But we can teach her how to be safe around one.”

“How about we stop talking about me like I’m not here?” Maria hushed you.

“I’m wheeling and dealing for your benefit so hush,” she teased. You stuck out your tongue at her. Maria gasped. “Do you want to start training right now?”

“Children,” Natasha warned. “No fighting on the common floor. The last time a fight broke out we needed a new TV and a couch,” you giggled. “Come on, kid. Tony wants to have a meeting about your schooling.” You nodded. “We’ll figure out a training schedule that won’t conflict with her classes.” She said to Maria.

“Aye, aye captain,” she gave the Black Widow a salute. You smiled at the interaction.

“See you around, Maria,” you said and followed Natasha to Tony’s lab where Wanda was already there. You weren’t nervous. The test was the hard part of all of this and they were proud of how you did. But it was nice having the couple on either side of you as Tony rattled off a plan. The textbooks you needed were already ordered, minus a math textbook that he already had, and if you needed additional books for essays or projects he gave you a debit card to buy them. You didn’t bother putting up a fight with that. As for your ‘teachers’, Vision was going to help you with history, Bruce and Tony were for math and science, and your training with Maria counted as your physical education credit. The extracurricular would be business with Pepper and art with Steve, the two agreed to shadow you during those times. It seemed like a lot of work but you were ready to finally go to school and learn.

*

You had to get out of the tower. Every room you entered and Bucky so happened to be there, he left. It was a little maddening. So, you sat on the balcony with a textbook in your lap and the rubber duck in your hand. There was a part of you that was associating this duck with Bucky. But that couldn’t be correct. “Hi,” you spun around to see Steve walking over to you and hiding the duck underneath the book. You smiled at the blonde and looked at the book. You figured he was here to talk about Bucky. God, it felt like when you first moved to the tower. Instead of you running away, it was him. Steve sighed and sat down next to you. “Beautiful view,” he said, looking towards the city. “What are you doing up here?”

“Just reading,” you gestured to the book in your lap. It wasn’t the full truth but it got the point across.

“It’s about Buck, right?”

“I just don’t want him to be uncomfortable in his home,” you shrugged.

“It’s your home too,” he sat down next to you. That was true. You tapped your fingers on the page you were reading.

“He was here first,” Steve nodded and put his arms on the back of the chair. He didn’t continue the conversation so you went back to reading about ration language and how it was used to describe the association between two or more qualities. You were learning that you did not like math.

“Do you blame him for what he did to you?” Steve broke the silence. The question made you look up at the city. “It’s okay if do. The whole situation is so complicated. Complicated. That was one word that barely touched the surface to describe the relationship you had with Bucky Barnes.

“I don’t,” you softly said. You saw the super solider look away from the city but you kept your eyes trained on the skyline. “At first I did but we were both just trying to survive. It’s not our fault that some of the world is evil and we were subjected to it.” Steve chuckled and you looked at him.

“You’ve changed so much from that little girl that Wanda and Natasha brought to the tower,” he said while standing up.

“Wait, is that a good thing?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he kissed the top of your head. “A very good thing.”

*

As night fell on the tower, everyone seemed to be asleep except you and the former Winter Solider. His back was to you so he didn’t see you, which didn’t give him a chance to run away. “Do you want some hot chocolate?” The soldier jumped and spun around to look at you. “Don’t run from me, please,” you pleaded. You heard him sigh and stand up to join you in the kitchen. He sat on the island with his hands folded on the counter. You began the process of making the hot chocolate in silence. But you noticed he wasn’t looking at you, he stared at his hands as if he was afraid he was going to snap and hurt you. When the hot chocolate was done and topped with marshmallows and cinnamon, you pushed his mug over to him. He wouldn’t take it. You sipped on yours. “Are you okay, Bucky?” You asked. “I want to help but I can’t if you don’t tell me what I can do.”

“How can you be in the same room as me?” He softly asked. “After everything, I did to you.”

“That wasn’t you,” you simply said, sipping on your hot chocolate.

“I could have killed you,” he finally looked at you. Since last night, Bucky wouldn’t allow you to get this close to him. His eyes were bloodshot.

“No,” you firmly said. “The Winter Solider almost killed me. Bucky Barnes would never.” You held his stare, blue eyes locked onto yours until he looked away. “How much do you remember about our time together?” You asked. Bucky sighed.

“It comes and goes,” he said. “Like waves, crashing into me and I’m drowning.” You smiled, tracing the rim of your mug. The marshmallows were melted and stuck to your finger.

“Me too,” you admitted. “It wasn’t all bad.” You licked the marshmallow off your finger and put your hand in your pocket. “My brain clouded all the good with the bad. Do you want to hear one of the good ones?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “Please.” You smiled.

“I hadn’t seen you for a few days and I knew better than to ask about you because that resulted in a punishment,” he chuckled slightly. “One day I was brought into a room and you were there. I think they wanted you to train me and you did but I hurt my shoulder. I tried to hide my tears but you knelt at my level, whipped away my tears, and reached into your pocket,” you mimicked this part of your story and held out your hand. “And when you opened it, there was a little rubber duck.” You showed him the duck.

“What?” He questioned. “A rubber duck?” You smiled as the confusion was all over his face. “You’re making this up.”

“I’m not,” you laughed at the deadpanned look he was giving you. “I swear! Look I was equally confused when you handed it to me. It was a rubbed duck just like this one,” you placed it on the counter between you and him. When your laughter died down, your smile became sad. “When I destroyed the faculty, I tried to find it but it was destroyed in the fire.” Finally, he took a sip of his no longer hot chocolate and picked up the duck with his flesh hand.

“I need time to process the new memories,” you nodded.

“I got nothing but time,” you said. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” he smiled. “For the talk and the hot chocolate.”

“Of course,” you cleaned your mug. “Try to get some sleep. Good night.”

“Night, doll,” he said. But you knew sleep wasn’t going to be an option for you. Every time you closed your eyes, your past played out in front of you. It was like Yelena said, there was a scab over a wound you had and although it was healing every time you rubbed against it it hurt more. Your feet led you to the training area, and the sound of your footsteps echoed against the quiet room. It was weird being here when no one else was here. You could do anything without the watchful eyes of the Avengers. You could train, lift some weights, or go for a run. Instead, you walked over to the machine Tony and Bruce built you.

It was in the corner of the room, a white sheet over it that you took off and stared at the machine. Fingertips tracing every part of it. With a sigh, you took a few steps from it and faced the machine. You closed your eyes and let out a few deep breaths. When you open your eyes, you let out of stream of electricity towards the target. You only cut it off when the batteries were full but it wasn’t enough. So you replaced the full batteries with empty ones and did it again. And again. And again. Until your chest was heaving and your legs felt like jello. A yawn escaped your lips and you took it as your sign to be done. You recovered the machine and took a long walk back to your room.

As soon as your head hit the pillow, you fell into a dreamless sleep.

_

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[alisonsfics]

Change Our Fates (Part One)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Y/N has always been head over heels for Spencer. The team decides to go out for drinks after finishing a case. When Spencer drunkenly kisses Y/N, will it change her life for better, or for worse?

Word Count: 3.7k

Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5

You were sitting at your desk at work. You had just finished your paperwork for the day, and it was finally the weekend. “Hey Y/N, you got plans tonight?” Emily asked you, walking over to your desk.

“If drinking wine at home alone is plans, then yes” you replied, giggling to yourself. “That is just sad, let’s all go out. It’s been a long week” Derek said, joining the two of you around your desk.

“I don’t know Derek, my pajamas are kind of calling my name” you said, hesitating. “Come on Y/N, let’s go have fun! You’re my wing woman” Emily pleaded, grabbing both of your hands. “Y/N, when was the last time you had a date?” Derek asked you.

You thought about it for a second. Derek was right, it had been a while. It was just so hard to date with the crazy work schedule that came with working at the BAU.

“Uhhhh” you said, stalling. “Exactly” Emily and Derek said in unison. You wracked your brain, trying to come up with an excuse to stay at home.

“Are we going out?” Penelope asked, walking up to us. “Yeah, we’re trying to convince Y/N to come with us” Emily explained. Penelope frowned at you. “Y/N, you are coming with us, no buts” Penelope said, crossing her arms.

You sighed and leaned further back into your chair. “And you, you’re coming too” Penelope said, pointing at Spencer. He had his bag and was on his way to leave. “Wait what?” He asked, joining our group.

“We’ve both been roped into going out with the rest of the team tonight” you said, standing up and then leaning your head on Spencer’s shoulder. “But guys—” Spencer said, starting to complain.

Derek stopped him before he could say anything else. “I don’t want to hear it, pretty boy. You two never go out with us, so it’s time to change that” Derek said.

You all started to leave the building together. “I will be picking you both up, so that you can’t try to cancel. Now, go home and get ready” Derek told you and Spencer. You rolled your eyes, causing Spencer to laugh.

“What’re you laughing at, pretty boy?” Derek asked him, curiously. You and Spencer immediately made eye contact. “Oh umm, nothing” he lied, unconvincingly. Derek gave the both of you a confused look.

“I don’t know what’s going on with two, but I’ll pick you up in an hour” Derek told you. You walked out the front door and were almost to your car when you heard someone’s footsteps behind you.

You glanced behind you, you saw Spencer trying to catch up to you. “What’s wrong?” You asked him. He caught up to you and you both walked together towards your car. “Do we really have to go to this thing tonight? I mean, the two of us could hang out and watch a movie or something” He suggested to you.

You smiled to yourself. It made you feel all warm inside. Spencer would rather have a night in with you then go out and hang out with the team.

You two were best friends, but it still made you happy to know that Spencer enjoyed your company.

You knew that a night in with Spencer would be much better than a night on the town. You both loved to hang out and order pizza. But, you knew the team would never let you not come out with them.

“I don’t think they’ll take no for answer, Spence. Even though, a movie night sounds like a much better plan for tonight” you said, and then realized you had arrived at your car.

“So, I’ll see you later?” Spencer asked, hopefully. “I’ll be there” you said, smiling and then driving home. Spencer waved to you as you drove off.

What Spencer didn’t know was that despite the fact that you both were best friends, you had a bit of a crush on the handsome doctor. You would never act on it though, there was no way you’d risk your friendship.

A while later, you were at home. You completely dressed and had your makeup done. Technically, you were ready to leave, but you were standing and staring in to the mirror. You weren’t sure if you looked good in your outfit. If you were going out and Spencer was going to be there, you wanted to look good.

Before you could even think about changing, you heard a knock at your door. You grabbed your phone and your purse and opened the front door. You saw Spencer standing there, looking absolutely handsome.

“Hi, wow...umm” he said, looking down at your outfit. “Thank you, Spencer” you said, smiling. It didn’t take a genius to know what those stutters and hesitation meant.

You had a good feeling about tonight. It had started with Spencer being speechless, just by looking at your outfit. That had to be a good sign.

Spencer cleared his throat and collected himself. “They’re all—ummm in the car” he said, gesturing towards the car in the driveway. “Well then, let’s go” you said, smiling at him.

Spencer had never acted nervous around you before, but you were going to take it as a good sign.

You both walked over to the car. Spencer instinctually went to grab the door of the passenger seat. You assumed that was where he had been sitting, but then you saw Penelope in the front seat.

He opened the door and was shocked to see her sitting there. “I started getting car sick in the back, so I call shotgun. You two lovebirds are in the back” Penelope told you both. You felt your cheeks heat up when she said lovebirds.

Penelope knew about your not so subtle crush on Spencer. So, you were constantly hoping that she wouldn’t tell him.

The car that you guys were in had three rows of seats. Derek was driving with Penelope next to him. JJ and Emily were in the middle seats. And now, you and Spencer were sitting in the very back.

Derek pulled out of your driveway and Penelope started to talk about something she saw on television. Spencer leaned over to you. “What did mean when she said lovebirds?” He whispered in your ear, not wanting anyone else to hear him.

You just shrugged your shoulders and lied. “I don’t know, it was probably just Penelope being weird” you lied, obviously not telling him about your crush. You could feel your cheeks heat up, hoping Spencer wouldn’t notice.

Emily turned around to face you. She smirked when she saw how embarrassed you looked. You could almost see her brain coming up with a way to embarrass you further.

Then she smiled to herself. Uh-oh

“See Y/N, look how nice you look when you go out with us. You look amazing, right Spencer? Doesn’t Y/N look gorgeous?” She teased, and your heart dropped. Now, she wasn’t just embarrassing you, but also Spencer.

You saw Spencer’s eyes widen, out of the corner of your eye. “I—ummm. Yeah, you look— really nice” he said, giving you a small smile while his cheeks flushed red.

You just wanted to hide.

“Somebody is flustered” Derek mentioned, and then smiled to himself. You felt so bad for Spencer, he looked mortified. “So where are we going any way?” You asked, changing the subject.

You swore you actually heard Spencer breathe a sigh of relief. You looked over at him and he gave you an appreciative smile. You smiled back at him.

“There’s some new bar that Emily has been begging to go to for weeks” JJ told you. Then, you felt Derek slam on the brakes and honk the horn. You looked up and saw that a car had swerved in front of you. “Why does nobody in this city know how to drive?” Derek muttered to himself.

You looked down and saw that Spencer had grabbed your hand when Derek slammed on the brakes. You both made eye contact and his cheeks flushed red again. He instantly pulled his hand away. “Sorry” he quickly muttered, and then looked out the window.

Eventually, you all pulled up to the bar. Once Emily and JJ had gotten out of the car, Spencer helped you out of the car. It was a tight squeeze to get out of the back row of the car.

You adjusted your dress once you got out of the car. “We are going to have fun tonight, especially you two” Derek said, pointing at you and Spencer as you all walked inside.

The six of you all walked over to a booth and sat down.

Emily was sitting next to the window, with Penelope next to her, and then Derek. JJ was by the window on the other side, with Spencer next to her. and then you.

“I’m going to go get some drinks for us. Who is our designated driver?” You asked, standing up from the table. “I’ll drive” Emily volunteered. “Okay. Spence, do you want anything to drink?” You asked him, knowing most of the time he preferred not to drink.

“Ummmm—” he said, thinking. “Why don’t you go with her, kid? Then, you can decide” Derek suggested, and smirking at you.

Apparently, everyone on the team was going to make it their mission to get you and Spencer together tonight.

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to” you assured Spencer, not wanting him to feel pressured just because Derek wanting to tease you. Spencer looked unsure of what to do. “No, it’s fine. I’ll go with you” Spencer said, getting out of the booth seat.

You both started to walk towards the bar and you had to walk through a big group of people. Spencer was in front of you, leading you through the crowd.

Then, you felt someone grab your hand. You were ready to have to pull your hand away from some creepy guy, but you looked down and saw that Spencer had reached back and grabbed your hand. It was like he was trying to make sure that he didn’t lose you in the crowd.

You felt a smile creep onto your face as you thought about his very sweet gesture. You both eventually reached the bar. You ordered a few shots for everyone. Then, you turned to Spencer and he ordered a beer for himself.

Spencer rarely drank, and when he did, it was very tame. He was never the person who was downing shot after shot.

You turned towards Spencer as the bartender made your drinks. “Has the team seemed weird to you today?” Spencer asked you, glancing back over at the table. “You mean weirder than normal?” You asked, giggling. You were really trying to avoid that conversation, because you couldn’t tell him why they were acting weird. Because then he would know you liked him and he wouldn’t want to be friends anymore.

“I guess they’re not any weirder than normal, but something just feels off. Like they’re all hinting at something I don’t know about” he said, honestly. Then, the bartender saved you and placed your drinks down in front of you both.

You looked at the amount of shots and there were too many. “This is two too many shots” you told the bartender. He chuckled to himself. “Those two are on me” he said, and then winked at you.

You laughed to yourself and then grabbed the drinks into your hands. “Why did he give you extras?” Spencer asked you, after the bartender had moved on to someone else. You just stared back at Spencer, did he really not know why he did it.

“I’ll explain it to you when you’re older” you teased, and turned to walk back to the table. Spencer followed you and you kept hearing him ask you what the bartender meant.

You both sat back down in your original spots at the booth. “Why won’t you just tell me?” Spencer asked you, as you handed out the shots. “What won’t she tell you?” Emily asked, curiously. You giggled at how clueless Spencer was. “Spencer wants to know why the bartender gave me extra shots on the house” you said, still giggling.

The entire team started laughing. “What? I don’t get it” Spencer complained. “Come on pretty boy. It means the bartender thought Y/N was hot and bought her some drinks” Derek explained, chuckling to himself.

Spencer’s mood changed almost instantaneously. “Oh” he said, sounding disappointed.

“Cheer up kid, you still have a chance” Derek joked. Your eyes widened and you kicked Derek under the table. He winced. “I mean, have a chance at getting a free drink. You just have to go up and talk to the female bartender” Derek said, covering for you.

You downed a shot because apparently it was going to be a long night.

After a few minutes of talking, you felt Spencer tap your shoulder. You turned to look at him. “What’s wrong?” You asked, quietly. “Can I try one?” He asked you politely.

The only problem was you didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. “Try one of what?” You asked him, cluelessly. He pointed at one of the shots that was sitting in the middle of the table.

“A shot? Oh—ummm —of course. Go ahead” you asked, completely shocked. He picked one up and examined it for a second. “It’s best to just do it fast” you advised.

Spencer took a deep breath and then quickly downed the shot. You were impressed to say the least. “Woah pretty boy, guess who just got serious” Derek started to tease.

No one knew what to say. You had all seen Spencer drink beer or wine on occasion, but none of you had ever seen him do a shot.

“What? Did I do it wrong?” Spencer asked, getting self conscious as he felt his friends’ stares on him.

“We’ve just never seen you drink a shot” JJ said, stunned. You couldn’t believe your eyes. You had known Spencer for years and you were very close. So close that sometimes you could almost predict what he was going to do. But, you never would have expected him to down a shot just out of the blue.

It was about an hour later and all of you were pretty drunk, except for Emily, who was the designated driver. “Another round” Penelope cheered. “I’ll get it” you volunteered, standing up.

“I’ll help carry” Emily said, following you up to the bar. Once you got to the bar and ordered, Emily turned to face you. She gave you a look that meant she wanted to talk about something. “So?” Emily said, smirking and you knew you were in trouble.

“What?” You asked, confused. She rolled her eyes at how oblivious you were. “When are you finally going to make a move on Spencer?” She asked, wiggling her eyebrows. You should have known that’s what she was going to say.

“Come on Emily, you know that I can’t” you told her, stubbornly. She didn’t seem to like your answer. “You always say that, but I don’t see why you can’t just ask him out. He’s clearly into you, and you are totally head over heels for him. The whole team can see it. Just ask him out, then we can all stop dealing with you two pining over each other” she told you, like it was obvious.

“He doesn’t like me like that. We’re just friends, and it would ruin our work relationship” you argued, not wanting to get your hopes up that he could possibly like you. You had been dreaming of going on a date with Spencer for as long as you could remember, and you didn’t want to crush your hope.

“Well I disagree, and I also think you should look over at the table” Emily said, subtly. You quickly glanced over her shoulder to see what she was talking about. Derek had his arm around Spencer’s shoulders and they were both looking in your direction. Derek was telling Spencer something, but you couldn’t tell what it was. “What are they doing?” You asked, confused.

Emily just stared at you for a second. You knew that meant that you were supposed to know what they were talking about. “Well they’re clearly talking about you. And we all know that Spencer likes you, so Derek is probably telling him how to ask you out” Emily suggested.

You felt all your blood rush to your cheeks, you suddenly felt really embarrassed. Could they really be talking about you? You didn’t feel prepared. What if Spencer did come and ask you out? You didn’t know what you were supposed to say. What if you completely embarrassed yourself?

“This can’t be happening” you said, almost to yourself. “Oh it is, and Spencer is coming over here. I’m going to bring the drinks to the table” Emily said, smirking at you as she left you stranded.

Spencer was on his way over and you were fully panicking. Alcohol was supposed to give you courage. You weren’t completely drunk, but you didn’t feel brave at all.

You felt like you were going to puke on his shoes as soon as he came near you. You didn’t know what to do. You really liked Spencer, but was now really the moment that he might ask you out?

Then, he was standing in front of you. You felt like he could probably hear your heartbeat. “Hi” you said, bashfully. He looked like he was struggling to come up with words as well. You could tell he was really thinking about what he was going to say.

Then, all of a sudden, you felt his hands on your waist and his lips on yours. You were in complete shock. Spencer was kissing you right now. The one and only Spencer Reid was kissing you.

You didn’t know what to do. In your shock, you completely blanked and didn’t kiss Spencer back.

You felt his touch leave you, and he looked apologetic. “I’m so sorry, I—ummm” he stuttered, thinking that you didn’t want to kiss him. You had to do something fast if you ever wanted to have a romantic relationship with Spencer.

You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him back to you. You felt the familiar warmth of his lips on yours. This time, you felt him smiled as he kissed you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and you felt safe and secure.

All the worries you had were completely gone. It was just you and him, in the moment. You both pulled away and you both had huge smiles on your face. You happened to look over his shoulder at the rest of the team. They all had either smiles or smirks on their face. Derek even wolf whistled at the two of you.

Spencer interlaced your fingers and you both walked to the table. All your friends congratulated the two of you, and told you that it took you both long enough.

It felt magical. You felt like you were in a dream, or on cloud nine. This seemed too good to be true. Once you left the bar, you all got back in the car to drive home.

Spencer’s hand never left yours at any point during the drive. And when you got dropped off at your house, Spencer kissed you goodnight. Everything in your life finally felt right, you finally had the guy of your dreams.

It felt perfect.

It took you hours to fall asleep. You were too giddy. You couldn’t get the smile off of your face. You had the image of Spencer’s face after the kiss plastered in your mind. The giant smile that had been on his face.

That moment had felt like pure bliss. You were actually really excited to go into work tomorrow. You were excited to see him again. You just wanted to be around him and hold his hand again.

You finally fell asleep, and woke up feeling refreshed and ecstatic. You put more effort into your outfit in the morning. You were practically skipping around your house.

Once you got to the office, you had butterflies in your stomach. You were going to see him again, see his smile again.

You walked to your desk and you were looking around for him, but trying to not make it obvious. You didn’t see him at his desk, you figured he was probably in the bathroom or something. You sat down at your desk, not even trying to get rid of the smile on your face at this point.

Then, you heard footsteps behind you. You turned around eagerly, and you saw Spencer walk past you, on his way to his desk. You felt your face light up when you saw him.

“Oh...hey Y/N. Good morning” he greeted you, just like he did every morning. You didn’t know why, but you felt disappointed. You had hoped for something more, you didn’t know what that something was though. “Morning Spence” you said, trying to hide your disappointment.

You started to think about it, and you could only come up with one conclusion. Spencer probably just didn’t want to act affectionate in front of anyone. Maybe he was worried because you worked together. By lunch time, you were convinced that this was the reason.

All day, Spencer hadn’t acted even a little bit different. A few times, you were convinced that last night was a dream and you had in fact imagined it.

Most of the team had left for lunch and you saw Spencer head toward the kitchen. You decided you would follow him and talk to him one on one.

“Hey Spence” you said, cheerfully. You saw Spencer pouring coffee into his mug. He looked at you with a confused glance. “You seem happy today” he said, confused. “Well yeah, duh” you said, thinking that he was kidding.

His expression didn’t change. “So what has you so happy?” He asked you, curiously. You could tell from his tone that he was serious. “Because of last night, come on Spence” you told him, getting more nervous by the second. His face still had no glimmer of realization.

“What happened last night? I don’t remember anything from last night. I think I had too much to drink and my body wasn’t used to it” he told you, honestly.

Your heart stopped.

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[mrsalwayswrite]

Singing in the Shower (Ragnarssons x Reader)

This is just a silly little one-shot that came to mind that I could not stop thinking about. It got a bit deeper than I planned but oops?

Also my first time writing a Ragnarssons x reader! Please let me know if I did all the brothers justice. Except Bjorn isn’t in here. So its just the sons of Aslaug. Sorry, Bjorn.  

Warnings: some brief mentions of abusive/unhealthy past relationships, reader has some insecurities, the brothers being the best roomies ever but also creepers, like one or two swear words, FLUFFY GOODNESS!!! 

Words: 3700

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius​

 (picture is from Pinterest. Not mine.)

The sound of laughter echoed around you even before leaving your bedroom. It was a Sunday night so that meant the Lothbrok brothers were all over. A tradition Ubbe started some months ago to make sure the four brothers stayed connected in each other's lives. Every Sunday evening, all of them would congregate in the three bedroom flat you shared with Ubbe and Hvitserk. They would order a stack of pizzas and enough beer to put a pub crawl to shame, and watch movies or play video games until the early morning hours. Only twice had fist fights broken out between Sigurd and Ivar with just a table and a lamp damaged in the process, so Ubbe called it a win. 

 It had only been about a year that you lived with Ubbe and Hvitserk. Sigurd chose to move in with a couple members of the band he played in. Aslaug vehemently refused to let Ivar move out due to his many medical needs that she claimed he could only receive proper attention for at home. In equal parts rebellion and to escape his mother’s suffocating attention, Ivar spent the majority of his free time and nights crashing on the couch at your shared flat. 

 At first, you were hesitant about living with the two brothers, having only known them through friends, but you decided to give it a chance. Within a couple of months, you found the strange dynamics of your shared space and your vastly different relationships with each of the brothers to feel eerily familiar….like being home. 

 Standing at your door, you listened to the brothers for a few moments, smiling broadly as you heard Hvitserk taunting Sigurd about how he was going to beat his ass if he threw another blue shell at him. Meanwhile Ivar was yelling something about the undeniable magic of Yoshi and his winning streak. They must be playing Mario Kart again. 

 It was nice to hear them all getting along. Normally Sunday nights you hung out with your boyfriend to give the brothers privacy, even though all of them repeatedly told you it was unnecessary. That was until last week. You had taken a selfie on your boyfriend's phone and went to set it as his background to surprise him….and found nude pictures of other girls and the dick pics he sent them back. Before you stormed out of his flat, you may have thrown his phone against the wall, pleased when the screen shattered just like your trust. Then you came home and cried to Hvitserk about how you were swearing off men and just wanted to be a spinster for the rest of your life. 

 Word must have spread between the brothers. For the rest of the week, they all offered their support in various ways. Sigurd texted you a few times to check on you and remind you that clearly you were better off without your ex. Ubbe gave you long hugs as if trying to soak the pain out of you, and made sure you were eating and getting out of bed. Hvitserk surprised you with a new sugary treat every day ranging from Oreos to ice cream to chocolate muffins; then you two would cuddle on the couch indulging yourselves while watching movies. Ivar threatened to beat up your now ex-boyfriend for making you cry and take pictures to send to those girls your ex had been texting. You made sure to shut Ivar's idea down quickly but pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and thanked him for offering. You hated your ex, that did not mean you wanted him dead. 

 You pushed away from your door and down the hallway. Popping your head around the corner, you saw the brothers in various positions in the living room, eyes all glued to the TV and the race happening on-screen. 

 "I'm gonna shower." You announced, receiving grunts of affirmations as they were too focused to fully acknowledge you. Smiling at their antics, you headed into the bathroom, shutting the door and starting the shower up. Once the water was at the perfect temperature, you stripped and jumped in. Of course, once the mixture of hot water and steam helped you relax, you started singing to yourself, letting the worries of the day fade away for just a moment as the words flowed from your lips and echoed off the shower stall walls like your own little stage. 

 Unbeknownst to you, as soon as the bathroom door shut and the sound of water running could be heard, the volume on the TV was muted. 

 Ivar, surprisingly, was the first one to overhear your singing. He had come over to crash for a few hours after his latest doctor appointment and to work on an assignment for a University class. The bathroom door somehow had not fully latched when you closed it, cracking open while you were in the shower….and you started singing. Ivar sat stunned on the couch at the voice slipping out of the bathroom like a siren's song. He remained there, transfixed as you sang some song he had never heard but he could feel in his chest. Once you stopped singing and the shower turned off, he quickly jumped up and hobbled over to silently shut the door, slightly embarrassed by the idea of you catching him listening in to your shower singing. 

 Later that day after you headed out to work, Ivar asked Ubbe and Hvitserk if they had heard you sing yet. Both of them denied ever hearing you sing. When asked if he knew anything, Sigurd was upset, having asked you on multiple nights to go to a karaoke bar with him and some friends. You always refused by saying you sounded Iike a beached whale. 

 Ubbe was next to overhear. He was walking by the bathroom on the way to the kitchen when he heard your voice drifting from underneath the bathroom door. Feeling like a creeper but curiosity winning out, he pressed his ear to the bathroom door to listen better. To say he had been shocked was an understatement. Sure, he had heard Ivar praise your voice, but he figured his youngest brother was exaggerating. It made him wonder why you never sang in front of others. 

 A silent pact was made between the brothers that they would never share the information of your singing with anyone outside the four of them….and whenever you jumped in the shower, whoever was the closest would go and crack the bathroom door open so they could hear you better. 

 This time was no different. 

 Sigurd was closest, so after Ubbe paused the game, he jumped up and silently cracked open the door so your beautiful voice could flow out. The game picked back up but remained on mute so they could hear you. The first song you serenaded them with was Walk Me Home by Pink. Apparently, one of your new favorites since you sang it so often. Next was Someone Like You by Adele. By the third song, the brothers had abandoned the game and were solely focused on you and the raw emotion bleeding from your voice. This time you started to sing Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi.  

 Ubbe spoke up, keeping his voice quiet just in case you could hear them, however unlikely. "Has she said anything about her ex lately?"

 "Not to me." Hvitserk answered first. "I thought she was doing fine."

 "Just because she's not crying all the time doesn't mean she's fine." Ivar retorted harshly, never removing his eyes from the direction of the bathroom. After a moment, he got up and hobbled towards the bathroom. 

 "Ivar…. Ivar, what are you doing?" Ubbe hissed but was ignored. 

 As quiet as possible, Ivar walked into the bathroom and sat on the toilet lid; your singing managed to cover the sounds of his movement. As he rolled his head to the side, it was to find his brothers had followed him with varying expressions ranging from concern to amusement. 

 Normally you did not spend so long in the shower but today you decided to spoil yourself. You had been doing well all week but this morning you were scrolling through your Instagram and happened to stumble upon a picture of your ex with a new girl, smiling happily and kissing at a restaurant…. the day after you broke up. And seeing them together felt like it ripped a tear into the slowly healing pieces of your heart. 

 Instead of going out like you planned to do, you laid in bed all-day binge-watching movies and feeling like an idiot. So in the shower you took extra time pampering yourself, using a deep conditioner in your hair, shaving everywhere and just letting the hot water cascade down your skin and loosen the tense muscles. 

 At this point you were feeling a little better and decided it was best not to waste any more water. You turned the water off, running your hands down your body to get as much excess water off, before you reached for your towel. Grabbing the plush towel hanging on the rack, you quickly dried your hair and wrapped the towel around your body before pulling the curtain back….

 Only to shriek as you realized you were not alone in the bathroom. 

 "What? What are you guys doing?" You demanded, eyes frantically darting between the four brothers.

 Ivar sat on the toilet lid; head tilted as he watched you with a peculiar expression on his face. Hvitserk leaned against the sink, eyes darting from your towel-clad body to the floor then back up. Ubbe and Sigurd stood in the doorway, both looking the least comfortable but still not moving. 

 "We, ah, we were…. well, we are concerned for you." Ubbe said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

 "Concerned?" You asked incredulously. 

 Ivar ignored your question. "Is this about your ex? Want me to pay him a visit?"

 "What are you talking about?"

 "Your singing. They were sad songs." Sigurd answered, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. 

 Heat flooded your face. You dropped your head, staring at the bathroom floor as you clutched the towel closer to your body. Honestly, the idea of them hearing your singing was far more humiliating than them seeing you naked at this point. "You…. you heard me…. singing?"

 "Y/n, are you OK? You know you can tell us anything." Hvitserk said, trying to meet your eye. 

 "Um, can…. can we talk about this when…. when I'm not naked?" 

 "Of course. Come on, brothers." Ubbe quickly agreed, tapping the door as if to signal. He and Sigurd walked away first. Only when you finally met Hvitserk's eye did he push off the sink and head out but not before giving you a flirty wink. 

 "Ivar…."

 He slouched back, folding his hands behind his head. "I'm quite comfortable here."

 "Oh gods, please, Ivar." You begged, almost on the verge of tears. 

 He stared at you a long moment before pushing himself to his feet. "Don't think you're getting out of this."

 "Ok."

 Appeased, he made his way out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 

 Once alone, you stepped out of the shower only to drop onto the toilet lid and place your head in your hands. Your chest heaved and your eyes stung as you fought back the tears that threatened to fall. Today was bad enough and now this. It had to be something out of a nightmare. Your own personal hell. 

 When you finally composed yourself, you quickly changed into your comfiest sweats and tank top. You wished you could make a run for your room, anything to avoid the impending conversation but you knew the brothers would follow, they were all stubborn and persistent when they wanted to be. 

 With a deep breath, you stepped out of the bathroom and towards the living room. What hushed disagreement the brothers were clearly having abruptly ended when they noticed you. Awkwardly you remained standing, unsure where to sit. The only open spots were on the couch between Hvitserk and Ivar or one of the recliners as Ubbe sat in the other one. Sigurd reclined on the rocker gaming chair on the floor. 

 Averting your eyes, you started towards the open recliner only to have a strong arm snake around your waist as you passed by and pulled you onto the couch. You squeaked as you suddenly found yourself perched on Ivar's lap. Somewhere you had certainly never been before. 

 "Where do you think you're going?" He asked, a cocky grin spread across his face. 

 "Um, over there." You nodded your head towards the other open spot. 

 "No, you're sitting here now."

 "Stop hogging her, brother." Hvitserk reached over and dragged you off Ivar. Somehow you ended up with your back against Hvitserk's side, his arm slung around you and your legs across Ivar's lap, him slowly running his hand up and down them. 

 Ubbe raised an eyebrow at the three of you. "Are you done yet?"

 "I thought we were just fine but I guess Hvitty had other plans." Ivar snarked, rolling his eyes. 

 "We're good now." Hvitserk said with a cheesy smile, making you giggle. 

 "So how are you really doing, y/n?" Ubbe asked, staring at you with those knowing blue eyes. 

 "Um, I'm alright. Today was just…. rough." At the four questioning looks, you quickly explained about what you found this morning on Instagram. 

 Ivar slapped the armrest of the couch. "I'm beating his ass now and nothing you say can stop me."

 You snagged his other hand that was still on your leg and clasped it, as if that alone could diminish his deadly intent. "Please don't. He's not worth it. I just…. I just want to move on. Ok?"

 He grumbled, but eventually gripped your hand and gave it a single squeeze in acknowledgement. 

 Now here was the part that petrified you; but you needed to know. 

 "Um, how…. how long have…. was this your first time?" Your words stumbled out, making you cringe at how ineloquent it was. 

 "What are you talking about?" Sigurd drawled; one foot propped up so he slowly rocked in the gaming chair.  

 You licked your lips, your mouth suddenly dry. You dropped your gaze, as you whispered your answer. "My….my singing."

 "What? You sound bloody brilliant! The others have heard you more than me but you always sound amazing!" Sigurd exclaimed, a beaming smile on his face. "I don't know why you haven't gone out with me before! Oh! I'd love for you to try and sing in my band, we could use an amazing vocalist like you! Gods, we could get way more gigs with a beautiful woman like you upfront singing."

 Soon as Sigurd started talking, you covered your face with your hands. The tears you managed to repress earlier flooded back. Your shoulders hunched over, cowering into yourself at the revelation. They had all heard you. Apparently more than just this one time. It was mortifying. Long ago you stopped singing in front of others, no longer able to face the ridicule, the degrading comments always thrown your way. And now, these brothers that you had become so close to…. if they said anything negative towards you right now, you were sure your heart would fully break and no lyric would ever pass your lips again. 

 Hvitserk shifted behind you, turning you so he could wrap both arms around your waist and place his cheek against the side of your head. "Y/n, talk to us." 

 You shook your head, the barely suppressed tears and poisoned words clogging your throat. 

 Abruptly, a pair of calloused hands grabbed yours, forcing them away from your face. You were immediately met by a pair of piercing blue eyes, only inches from your face. 

 "Whose ass am I killing now? Huh?" Ivar demanded in a low, menacing tone. Between his tone and the fury burning in his eyes, you knew he meant his question, and that sent a nervous chill down your spine. 

 "It's not…. it’s nothing."

 "Bullshit." Ivar spat. 

 Hvitserk nuzzled your temple, his voice lighter but still with an edge of steel in it. "I agree with Ivar. Something happened."

 Biting your bottom lip, you closed your eyes. There were a few things that were just too painful to talk about and this one, they had unknowingly stumbled upon. 

 "Was it your mother?"

 Your eyes flew open, your head snapped over to stare at Ubbe in shock. He met your gaze unflinchingly, and somehow you knew he already figured at least part of it out. He accidentally overheard a phone conversation between you and your mother one time and once you got off the phone, he immediately pulled you into a bone-crushing hug and promised you never had to see her again if you never wanted to, that they would take care of you. Of course, you cried all over him after he promised that. 

 Ubbe leaned forward in the recliner, placing his elbows on his knees, gaze still intent on you. "What did she do?"

 "She…. she hated when I sang. Said I was just desperate for attention. That I needed to just shut up. That no one would want to listen to me anyway. If she ever caught me singing…. once she duct-taped my mouth shut."

 You could hear the gasps at your confession, followed by a round of curses. Hvitserk pressed a kiss to your temple, tightening his hold on you. Ivar squeezed your hands, still holding them within his own. 

 Ubbe nodded as if not surprised. He ran a hand down his face and sighed before stealing your gaze once again. "I have a feeling she wasn't the only one to hurt you."

 At this point, a silent tear trekked down your cheek. You sniffled, dropping your gaze down. "I had an ex who used to make fun of my singing. He used to say 'at least you're pretty'. When we would ride together listening to music, he would tell me to stop singing and 'leave it to the professionals'. At some point, it just….it was better to not sing in front of anyone. So I only sang in the shower cause I thought no one would hear me."

 Hvitserk turned your head, looking into your eyes. "Baby, listen to me. Your singing is incredible. We all love listening to you sing. Please don't be embarrassed about this with us."

 "I'd love for you to walk around the house singing, I could happily listen to that all day." Ubbe said, a tender smile on his lips. 

 "I second that!" 

 "Sig, you're only here on Sundays." Ubbe glanced over at his brother. 

 Sigurd shrugged. "So? I could listen to her sing all day. Maybe she should move in with me and actually be appreciated."

 "No! You're not stealing her from us!" Hvitserk said, practically cradling you against him, like a puppy afraid to lose its favorite toy.

 "It's not stealing if she wants to go!" 

 Ivar butted in. "I am more interested in this other shitty ex and mother...can I find them?"

 "No, Ivar. You have to stop threatening people."

 "Why?" He whined at you, tugged on your hands, your legs still across his lap. "You won't let me teach them a lesson so all I can do is threaten."

 "Also sounds like you have terrible taste in guys. Anymore shitty exes we should know about?" Sigurd asked, rocking his chair. 

 You figured at this point you were spilling all your dirty secrets so what was one more. "Um, I was talking to this one guy but when he found out I moved in here, he called me a whore for moving in with two brothers and told me I was a waste of his time." You softly admitted, having made sure none of them ever heard about that after it happened. 

 For a moment there was dead silence then….

 "I'm going to need his name right now." Ubbe said, malice dripping off every word. 

 "Yeah! Let's cut his tongue out! See what he says about that!" Ivar cheered. 

 You could not stop the laughter that came out. The idea that these brothers got so worked up over anyone that ever insulted or hurt you was both sweet and slightly infuriating, but mostly sweet. No one had ever cared about you as strongly as these four brothers. 

 "It's fine now. How about this? Next guy to hurt me, I promise I'll give you his name."

 "No! I want to cut this asshole's tongue out. Maybe slap him with it after!" Ivar smiled with a pure predatory look. 

 "I think you should just date one of us." Sigurd shrugged, watching everyone with a smirk. "Then you know he'd treat you right."

 "I like this idea." Hvitserk smiled, squeezing you lightly. "We would romance the hell out of you."

 "You guys are being silly. I don't even know what romance would look like." You giggled at the absurd idea. All the brothers were gorgeous in their own ways and could pick up any girl they wanted, why would they want you? Besides, your relationships were just platonic. "Is the interrogation over now? Want me to leave so you can get back to your game?"

 "Nope, you're stuck here." Ivar said, leaning on you now so you were sandwiched between the two brothers. 

 Ubbe chuckled. "We've told you before, you are welcome to hang out with us. Why don't we put in a movie?"

 After many arguments and some mild threats, a movie was finally chosen. You settled against Hvitserk, facing the TV, as you played with Ivar's hair, his head now in your lap. 

 As you watched the movie, you missed the silent conversation between the brothers happening around you. It was decided that your next boyfriend would certainly be one of them and in the meantime, they were all going to romance the hell out of you and make sure you understood how important and incredible you are. 

 Starting with making sure you sang whenever you wanted. 

[fruitcoops]

I don't know if you did this already (I'm sorry if you did) or somebody asked but could you do one where they supportive teammates reacts to homophobic teammates

Hello anon! This is a super interesting idea and I’ve been thinking about it for a couple days so I could get the vibe right--none of our boys would be homophobic, but new rookies on the other hand...

Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove, but this features a character who does not appear in SW (I’m not claiming him as an OC because he’s a dick)

TW for homophobic statements, no slurs

I

James caught sight of the new guy just as he was leaving the locker room, towel draped over his neck. “Rookie! Wait up, man!”

The other man paused, looking rather surprised as he jogged over. “Hey, you’re James, right?”

“Call me Pots.” He held his hand out and they shook. “Didn’t catch your name earlier, sorry.”

“Tanner Chase, nice to meet you.”

“Welcome to the team, Tanner.” James grinned. “You’re on my line, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’m a winger,” Tanner said with a good bit of pride. Oh, to be twenty again, James thought. “Giving you a run for your money.”

“Sure, kid,” James laughed. “You do that. You’d have better luck with me than Loops, though.”

Tanner’s smile turned a little sharp. “Nah, he’d be too easy, am I right?”

James paused. “What?”

“Y’know, since he’s…” Talker gave him a significant look and a stone sank in James’ gut.

“I think you lost me.” I hope this isn’t what I think it is. “Because he’s a rookie? ‘cause I hate to break it to you, but—”

“No, dude, because he’s a fairy,” he snorted, as if they were still joking around.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Tanner blinked and reeled back. “Excuse me?”

“You don’t get to talk about my friends like that. Don’t talk about anyone like that. It’s not tolerated on this team and I won’t hesitate to kick your ass if I hear it again.” James made sure his voice was as even as possible, but he could tell it shook at the edges. “You just used up your one free pass, Chase.”

 II

“Drive safe, Loops!” Talker called as Remus headed for the hall with his bag under his arm.

Sirius opened the door just as he reached it and his face broke into a smile. “Bonjour, mon amour, I was just looking for you. Ready to go?”

“Hiya, handsome.” He leaned up to peck him on the lips. “Yeah, I think I left my phone on the bench, though.”

Their conversation faded out as they wandered off together and Talker returned to his stretch, closing his eyes at the familiar burn in his hamstring. “Yikes,” the new rookie muttered under his breath. Tanner…something, Talker remembered.

“What’s up? You okay?”

Tanner glanced over at him. “Doesn’t it bother you?”

“Stretching? Not really, no. That’s why I do it.”

“No, not stretching. That.” He waved a hand at the slightly-open door.

“I can close it if you—”

“Dude.” Talker crossed his legs and faced him fully. “I mean Black and Lupin.”

Talker narrowed his eyes. “No. Does it bother you?”

“I mean, yeah, how am I supposed to respect a guy like that?” he scoffed.

Talker made direct eye contact with him; he wanted zero miscommunication about this. “You respect him because he’s your captain, which is a title he earned that has nothing to do with who he loves. And you respect Loops, too, or we’re going to have an issue. I don’t know what the fuck you’re thinking bringing that attitude to this team, but you better drop it right now.”

Tanner turned back to his stretch. With a shake of his head, Talker collected his stuff and left him alone on the mats.

III

“Hey, Harzy.” Tanner sat down next to Finn on the bench and passed him a waterbottle. There was a shout from the ice as Remus stole the puck from Sirius’ stick and raced toward the goal, laughing loudly.

“Tan-man, what’s up?”

“What’s the deal with them?” he asked, lowering his voice.

“Cap and Loops? They’re engaged, didn’t you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” There was a slight tone shift that made Finn’s skin crawl. “But what do you think about it? Isn’t it, like, a little weird being on the same team as them?”

“Uh, no.”

Tanner’s eyebrows rose. “You aren’t afraid they’re looking at you or something?”

“What part of ‘engaged’ don’t you understand?” Finn’s jaw tightened. What a little shit. “If this is some homophobic fuckery, I’d like to take this time to remind you I have two boyfriends before you say something that gets you punched.”

Tanner’s eyes went wide and he scooted away without a word.

IV

“Alright, everyone, Sid’s tonight?” Kasey shouted over the noise. The whole locker room cheered in agreement and he smiled as the buzz of victory filled his chest. “Knutty, since my team kicked your ass, I believe you owe me a pizza!”

“I still say Cap is a cheater!” Leo called back; within a few seconds, Sirius had him in a loose headlock as he ruffled his hair. “Alright, alright, I give!”

The volume level did not die down as they all flooded into the hallway—Kasey spotted a flash of mousy brown hair out of the corner or his eye and frustration lodged in his throat. In a smooth movement, he reached out and blocked Tanner from following the rest of the group out. “Not you.”

“But it’s a team dinner—”

“And you’re not part of the team until you get your head out of your ass,” he said coolly. The jumble of voices echoed around the corner. That was his team. “Don’t think I missed those looks you were shooting Cap and Loops. You’re not invited. Go home and think about what actually matters.”

V

They won the next game by a landslide. Arthur Weasley was furious. Every time an opponent came to check Tanner Chase, not a single Lion moved to help him. At one point, Pots had taken the puck right off his stick and skated down the ice for a goal, leaving him in the dust. Whenever Chase was on the bench, he was pointedly ignored by the rest and left to sit alone; Logan literally sat on Talker’s lap to avoid being within five feet of the rookie.

“Team meeting, everyone sit your asses down!” he barked as he entered the locker room. Immediately, the celebratory whoops quieted. “Anyone want to tell me what the hell is going on?”

Sirius looked up at him in confusion. “I thought we played pretty well, Coach.”

“You played fine, but Chase over here got the cold shoulder like I’ve never seen before. Even the fucking commentators noticed!”

“Good,” Finn muttered under his breath.

“Shut it, O’Hara, this is not good.” He took a deep breath to try and calm himself. “Once again, does anyone want to enlighten me on this sudden attitude toward rookies? Since when are we like this?”

“It’s not toward rookies, it’s toward him,” Kasey said, glaring at Tanner from his stall. “He’s a homophobic douchebag. You want to tell Coach what you said?”

Tanner stared at the floor.

Arthur’s fury vanished. “What? Chase, is that true?” The rookie stayed silent. “Hey, kid, I’m talking to you.”

“Yes, Coach.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Remus’ jaw tick and Sirius’ face grow stormy.

“How long has this been going on?”

“It started the first day of practice,” Pots said, crossing his arms. “Our first conversation, in fact.”

“Eyes on me, rookie.” Tanner winced as he looked up. “I know the organization has told you in the past that this kind of behavior is okay, but right here and right now, I’m telling you it’s not. If you’re going to continue with that, you can leave.”

“I just get uncomfortable when—”

“When what?” Remus asked, standing up and leaning on his stall. He looked overall unthreatening, but there was a stony look in his eyes. “Tanner, what did Sirius and I do to make you uncomfortable?”

Tanner floundered for a moment. “It’s just—the kissing, the cuddling, the nicknames, all that.”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem when Lily came to visit,” Remus continued. “Or Natalie, or Noelle, or Celeste. Is that correct?”

“Yeah.”

“But it bothers you when I call my fiancé ‘baby’, or he calls me ‘sweetheart’?”

“It does.”

“Tanner, I hope you know I’m not going to apologize,” he finally said. “If this had nothing to do with us being gay, we would tone down the PDA, but that’s clearly not the case.”

Sirius sighed. “None of us want to alienate you, but you’re making judgements before taking the time to know us. That’s a shitty thing to do.”

“You’ve never met an openly gay person before, have you?” Remus asked. Tanner shook his head. “Hi, I’m Remus Lupin. I play a wing position on the hockey team that you were just signed to and my favorite color is green. I have a dog named Hattie and I’m engaged to a man. Nice to meet you.”

Sirius walked across the room; Arthur tensed for a moment, but he stopped in front of Tanner and held his hand out. “Sirius Black, team captain. I play center and I hate pineapple pizza. Also, I’m gay. Congrats on being signed to the Lions.”

Tanner’s eyes flickered up, and after a moment’s hesitation, he shook Sirius’ hand. “Nice to meet you.” He swallowed thickly. “Cap.”

“Nice to meet you, too. Are we done with the bullshit?”

“It—it might take me a bit to get used to it.”

“Make it quick. We’ve got games to win and nobody here has time to hold your hand through it.” Sirius turned to look at everyone else, his Captain Face in full effect. “That goes for everyone, got it? No more cold shoulders, we talk this through like adults as soon as it happens.”

“You got it, Cap,” Pots said.

“Black, Lupin, can we talk?” Coach beckoned them toward the door; just before it closed, he saw Talker walk over to Tanner’s stall.

“That’s why you respect Cap and Loops,” Talker said quietly. “Not because of threats or some shit—because of that right there.”

[actress4him]

The Barn 2 - Auction

(Prompt #28 for Summer of Whump)

Previous | Next

Warnings: restraints, captivity, dehumanisation, shock collar, asphyxiation, human auction

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It was another day and a half before Jacob started to find out why he was there. During that whole time, he stayed hogtied in the stall, only being acknowledged when one of the goons came in to pour some water down his throat. The first time that happened he made the mistake of choking on it, and the sound set the stupid bark collar off again. The goon had just laughed at him.

On day two, when he was thoroughly bruised all over and aching from the cramped position, something started happening out in the barn. More and more voices filled the airy space, male mostly, but with a feminine laugh breaking through here and there. Jacob had no idea what was happening, but his heart rate sped up, regardless.

Then faces began appearing through the bars that lined the top of his stall. New faces, not any of the goons from before. Some glanced in briefly and moved on. Some stared openly, making notes on their phones. Others peered in curiously, smiling at him, leaning their heads in towards each other and exchanging secretive words.

He felt strangely like an animal in a zoo.

Part of him wanted to cower back into the corner, try his best to hide from the stares. But his pride wouldn’t let him. So instead he bared his teeth like the animal they seemed to think he was, trying to look as menacing as a mute, tied-up, sleep- and food-deprived, skinny blond guy possibly could.

He wondered if that was part of the reason some of them laughed.

The staring didn’t last long, thankfully. The faces stopped appearing, and the voices faded, though not completely. They sounded like they were standing outside of the barn, rather than in it. Somewhere close to him, a latch grated open, and there was a shuffling sound in the hay as a semi-familiar voice - Fancy Suit Man - rose above the rest, as if addressing the crowd.

For a long time nothing else really happened. Another voice spoke for periods of time, and every once in a while footsteps would enter the barn, and another latch would open. From the sound of it, they were opening each stall, drawing closer and closer to his each time.

Were there others trapped in here, like him? More importantly, what were they doing with them now? What were they about to do to him?

Eventually it was time to find out. Footsteps approached again, and this time the same man who’d laughed at him getting shocked the day before appeared at the stall door. Jacob glared at him as if that would change his situation at all.

The door swung open, and the goon quickly got to work untying the rope that connected Jacob’s wrists to his ankles. His heart was pounding for sure now. Maybe if he kicked out at the man’s face...maybe if he could get the stupid collar off…

He didn’t actually have any sort of plan by the time the rope came off. He tried kicking anyway, regardless of the fact that his ankles were still bound and he wouldn’t have been able to run anywhere, but the goon seemed to anticipate this, ducking calmly and catching Jacob’s leg in one, beefy hand.

“I’d break your ankle for that if it wouldn’t get me in trouble for damaging the merchandise.”

Merchandise?

There was no time to figure the statement out. Fingers were sliding down the back of his neck, in between the collar and his skin, and it was too much, too tight, the metal prongs dug holes into his throat while the black box they were attached to pressed up against his Adam's apple. He tried to gasp, but nothing came through. Instinctively he brought his bound hands up to the collar, groping at it, trying to pry it forward and give himself some air, but it was no use. There was no more give.

Through the fog of panic, he distantly registered that he was being dragged. Backwards, out of the stall, by the collar.

Black spots started dancing in his vision.

Just when he thought he’d surely pass out, he was thrown sideways onto gravel. He immediately sucked in a lungful of both air and dust, and began hacking until he thought a lung might spill out onto the ground any second.

He was still gasping and choking when a pair of hands grabbed onto the rope tying his wrists and yanked them up over his head, hooking something to it that pulled at the rope, scraping it across his already chafed skin. A second later, and he was jerked backwards.

And up. And up.

When the dizzying motion stopped and he was breathing somewhat normally again, he found himself looking out on the entirety of the crowd that had come by his stall earlier. They were all gathered around, watching, staring at him once again. And it was no wonder, because he was on full display now. It seemed they had hooked him up to the pulley on the front of the barn, the one normally used for hauling hay bales up to the loft. Now it was being used to keep him upright, toes just barely brushing the ground.

“Alright, folks, this is our last lot. Last chance to own one of these fine specimens for yourself, because I’m sad to say that after today I must move on to greener pastures.” Fancy Suit Man was standing somewhere to Jacob’s left, though he couldn’t crane his neck quite far enough to see.

“Now, I know a lot of you like to come to these events to find you a good laborer, but this particular lot I’d have to recommend for any of you who might be looking for...other purposes.” He finally appeared in Jacob’s periphery, gesturing to his body. “That’s not to say that he couldn’t be a good worker, eventually. He’s just gonna need a little...training. The shock collar you see him modeling might give you a good idea of what I mean.” He chuckled. “That’s not included, by the way. You’ll need to find your own creative method of shutting him up.”

Labor...other purposes…training? He didn’t know what any of it meant, and he didn’t want to. He just wanted to go home. He wanted his apartment, his bed, his leftover pizza, his cat Molly. He wanted to call his mom and tell her what had happened to him and let her lecture him one more time about the dangers of living alone.

He didn’t want to be here anymore.

“Alright, let’s start the bidding at $2,000.” The second voice he had heard before started up, quickly dropping into a drone of words and numbers that Jacob couldn’t keep up with. A white sign was raised, and the number changed. For a moment he couldn’t believe it, wouldn’t let himself wrap his brain around what was happening.

But there was no denying it, not really. He was being auctioned off.

A man in a trucker hat - not the goon, but another of several audience members wearing the style - was bidding rather fervently, egged on by the short, frumpy woman who hugged his arm. A few others joined in here and there, but after a while it came down to just that couple and one other man. He wore a hat, also, a Stetson that was pulled down far enough it left his eyes in shadow. There was never a twitch or flicker of emotion on his face, just a steady raising and lowering of the number twenty-eight sign in his hand.

Eventually, the man in the trucker hat gave up, much to his wife’s disappointment.

“And...sold! to Number Twenty-eight.”

Fancy Suit Man started blabbing on about his appreciation for the turnout, but Jacob was too busy being dropped to the ground and wrested off the hook to pay attention. The man in the Stetson approached, looming in the background while a couple of goons held him down. One started attempting to pull his wrists and ankles back together, despite the fight Jacob was putting up, while the other unhooked the blasted collar.

As soon as it was gone he shouted as loudly as he could, which wasn’t nearly as loud as he’d have liked, seeing as how his throat was practically mutilated. “Get off me! Get your stupid, filthy hands off me! I don’t belong to anybody, you can’t just sell me! I’m a human being, and you are all just sick, demented -”

The one who had taken off the collar joined the second and they were able to get him hogtied once more. They stepped back then, leaving him writhing in the dirt while Stetson looked on.

“Well, the boss did warn you. He’s a feisty one.”

Stetson’s stoic facade still didn’t crack. “I’ll take it from here.”

The goons stepped back. In one, fluid motion, Stetson reached down, grabbed hold of the shorter piece of rope, lifted Jacob off the ground, and slung him around his shoulder so that he hung against the man’s back like a sack of potatoes. He cried out in surprise and at the smarting pain in his wrists, glad he could do so now without getting the tar shocked out of him.

He continued to fight as he was carried away from the barn, bouncing, hoping he could make the man drop him despite knowing the fall would hurt. Nothing seemed to faze Stetson, though. They stopped after a minute, and the jangle of keys and creak of a tailgate being opened was heard. Then he was being tossed down onto a grooved truck bed and shoved deeper inside. Before he could get his bearings and try to scoot anywhere, the tailgate slammed shut, and a cover came down over the bed.

He was left in complete darkness, wondering where on earth he was being taken next.

[starlightkyeom]

let's go, don't wait

pairing: namjoon x reader genre: first date, straight fluff rating: general audience word count: ~3.5k warnings: none, this is legit straight first date fluff a/n: this is my first time writing something that's straight fluff and not (ultimately) explicit. inspired by those big 3 that were going around. i hope you enjoy, let me know your thoughts 💜 read it on ao3, or read it here below the cut

Namjoon stood in front of his mirror, trying for the fifth time to get his hair to do what he wanted it to do. Rationally, he knew that it looked good and that he was being ridiculous. There was nothing rational about his thoughts, though. He was nervous, had been since the moment he asked you out, and nothing had helped that.

His friends haven’t been any help. They were used to him being full of quiet confidence and sure of himself, even if he sometimes broke the occasional thing because he was clumsy. And on some level, he knew there was no reason to be this nervous. There had just been something different about you, something that drew him to you in a way he couldn’t remember feeling before. You were so simultaneously comforting and disarming that it was hard to know if he was coming or going. Hell, you hadn’t even batted an eyelash when he admitted that he didn’t have a car to pick you up in, immediately offering to be the one to pick him up.

All things considered, Namjoon knew that he shouldn’t be nervous, that everything was going to be fine, and that it was just a first date. It wasn’t the end of the world if the date didn’t go well, he kept telling himself that. So, why was he staring at his reflection in the mirror and giving himself a silent pep talk so as not to be overheard by his roommate? Why were there butterflies settling low in his belly? Why was he so stressed out?

His phone lit up with a message and broke him out of his internal monologue. It was a message from you saying that you were downstairs and waiting for him. You wanted to know if you should come up. That absolutely didn’t feel like what he wanted to do and so, with a final steadying breath, he headed down to meet you.

Whatever he’s expecting, it definitely hadn’t been you looking so effortlessly beautiful leaning against the side of your (he assumed it was yours at least) SUV and smiling up at him like there was nobody else in the world. Your eyes were locked on Namjoon, a genuine smile spread across your face as he stepped out of the building door.

“You look beautiful,” Namjoon said as soon as he was close enough to not have to yell and was surprised that it came out sounding calm.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you said and admired the dimples that formed in his cheeks. “Wanna drive?”

Namjoon’s smile faltered. It wasn’t just that he didn’t have a car. He just flat out wasn’t a good driver and it felt kind of lame to admit that on a first date with someone who made him this nervous.

“Oh, um, I’m not...I don’t really,” he stuttered and your eyes were only kind and patient with him. “I don’t have my license.”

“That’s fine,” you said as if it was the most normal thing in the world. He watched you push away from the car and walk around to the driver’s side. “Well? Are you getting in?”

The car ride was easy and Namjoon tried to gauge your reaction when he said where you were going. He’d never been to the restaurant but you seemed to know where it was and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Probably a good thing? It probably meant you’d been there before. That stopped him for a second, though, because he wasn’t sure if he should have picked someplace new. Or maybe you had only driven by it and that’s how you knew where it was. It was silly to be this nervous, he knew that. Yet telling his stomach to stop knotting was an entirely different game.

Namjoon had made a reservation and the two of you were seated as soon as you checked in with the host. Inside it was a nice little Italian restaurant with a great feeling to it. It seemed like the perfect place for dates or even dinners with small groups of friends. He even tried to ignore the sinking feeling at the prices when he looked at the menu. He could argue with Jimin later about what “not too expensive” meant. There was nothing wrong exactly with the date, except that it felt a little forced. You had seemed excited to accept the invitation and you were smiling along with everything Namjoon said. The smile didn’t seem to reach all the way to light up your eyes, though, and it was hard to tell if that was just his imagination. Overall it was a nice restaurant, definitely the type of place you went on a first date. Why did everything feel off, then?

“Something wrong?” Your eyes were kind as you asked the question and Namjoon felt his heart constrict at the sight.

“I just, I feel like something is off here,” he said, stumbling over his words. “Not with you, obviously, but the restaurant. I don’t know. It was my friend Jimin who suggested it and thought you might like it.”

“Ah, Jimin,” you said and shook your head, a slight smirk forming on your lips.

“I didn’t realize, do you know him?” Namjoon was genuinely curious about that. Jimin had never mentioned you before.

“Not really,” you said. “I think everyone around here knows who he is though. And I’m sure he’s seen me here before. I know I’ve seen him here.”

“So you have been here before?” Namjoon doesn’t know why he needed the confirmation. It wasn’t like he expected you to have never dated before.

You leaned back in your chair and shrugged. “Yeah, a few times at least. I was on a date once and Jimin walked in with those two really pretty friends he’s always with. I think their names are Jungkook and Taehyung, maybe? I only remember because it was probably the worst date I’ve been on in a long time.”

There was something compelling about watching you talk about a prior date and seeing Jimin. He wasn’t sure if it was the way you didn’t seem to care that normal dating rules said past relationships were off limits for first dates or the way you referred to Jungkook and Taehyung as Jimin’s really pretty friends as if it were nothing. Not that it was an unfair comparison, everyone was always commenting on their looks, especially girls. Or maybe it was the way you caught him watching you and smiled.

“What made it so bad?” Namjoon asked.

“He was just really full of himself,” you answered immediately. “Another one of those that graduated top of his class from business school because daddy bought his way in and bought his way into the business he works for now. Guys like that...they don’t care what I have to say, don't see me as anything more than an accessory for his arm, don't think I can have any valid thoughts. I’m something to be seen rather than someone who has anything of value to offer.”

“Sounds like a great guy,” Namjoon said with a laugh and you chuckled for a minute before looking horrified.

“Oh god, talking about past dates on a first date, that’s a no-no,” you said and the realization was cute on your face.

“I actually kind of like it, it’s refreshing,” Namjoon admitted.

“Can I ask you something?” You leaned forward, elbow on the table and head in your hand like you didn’t care that you were at a restaurant.

“Of course,” Namjoon said.

“Why here?” You asked.

Namjoon hesitated for a moment because it was a valid question. This wasn’t exactly where he would normally take a first date. It wasn’t him. Nothing about this was normal and he realized that’s why it felt off. He had been trying too hard.

“Well,” Namjoon started and sighed. “Honestly, I asked Jimin for a recommendation for a nice Italian place that wasn’t too crazy but some place you might like. I was...I was feeling a little intimidated.”

That was probably the wrong thing to admit and he was afraid to see your reaction. But your eyes sparkled at the admission.

“So this isn’t really your thing?” You seemed to enjoy asking the question and Namjoon wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Er,” Namjoon stalled, “no, not really.”

“Good,” you said and put your napkin on the table before standing up.

“Where are you going?” Namjoon asked, suddenly worried.

“Let’s get out of here and do something more fun,” you said.

“But, the table and dinner,” Namjoon stuttered. “And we ordered drinks.”

You pulled money out of your wallet and put it down on the table without a second thought. “I’d rather have a more Namjoon first date. Are you in?”

Namjoon looked at your outstretched hand and your smiling face and figured what the hell? He wasn’t really an impulsive person. Actually, he was always the responsible one in his group of friends, always in charge of making sure they got where they were going or had plans or whatever. But there was your hand and there was something so comforting about you. So he took your hand and let you pull him quickly out of the restaurant.

“Okay, so where to? What’s your favorite place to get food from?” You were back in the car and headed out of the parking lot.

“Uh, honestly I don’t really have a favorite,” Namjoon said, not wanting to admit his go-to place.

“Come on, we all have them,” you urged. “I know you do. You’ve been studying all day because you’re a genius PhD student and a TA. You haven’t eaten at all. Where are you getting food from?”

“It’s kind of lame, but there’s this terrible pizza place around the corner from my apartment. I get pizza...or wings,” Namjoon admitted and you smiled brightly.

“Pizza and wings are perfect,” you said and immediately headed back in the direction of his apartment. “I know exactly what we’re going to do.”

It was weird, not being the one in charge of making plans. You refused to tell him where you were taking him and only seemed to get more enjoyment out of asking. And so Namjoon just let you take the lead and instead he sat back to enjoy the ride. He offered his favorite toppings when you ordered the pizza, let you know how spicy he liked his wings, and insisted on paying when you ran across the street to the convenience store. He added a small dessert while you were gone.

The two of you were back in the car and headed off in a direction that seemed to be out of the center of town. Namjoon had realized it was better to just let you guide the way and enjoy the ride. There was something oddly peaceful about being with you, Namjoon thought. Everything about you was far more carefree and relaxed than he expected or was even used to. There was a lightness to being with you that just made everything seem easier. He wasn’t even nervous anymore, your calm had taken over the whole car.

You drove down a side road and veered up a hill, picking a dirt road out easily that Namjoon never would have been able to find. It seemed like you knew exactly where you were going though and for the first time, Namjoon was a little worried about where you were headed. But, the trees cleared and you came out in a clearing on top of a hill. Without saying anything,  you backed the car into a space and turned off the engine.

“Where are we exactly?” Namjoon asked as you went to get out of the car.

“Grab the food from the backseat and come see,” you said.

This was quite possibly one of the weirdest turns a date had ever taken, but he was intrigued and so he did as you asked. You opened the back hatch and laid out a blanket before climbing in with the six pack of beer you picked up at the convenience store. Every part of him wanted to ask what was happening. No part of him thought it made sense to get into the back of the SUV with you. He did it anyway, though.

It wasn’t until he was situated that he looked out the hatch into the night that he realized exactly why you picked this spot. The whole city stretched out below the two of you, lit up and sparkling, without any of the noise and bustle. The sky above was still completely dark though, not interrupted by the city lights.

“Wow,” was all Namjoon could say and the word came out quiet, like he was afraid to ruin the peace.

“This is my favorite place in the city,” you said as you looked out at the same view. “It really puts things in perspective, you know?”

“It does, everything looks so much more peaceful up here,” Namjoon said and looked over at you, marveling at the way your whole face lit up.

“Sometimes when I’m just sick of everything or I need to clear my head or I just need some quiet, I drive up here and just sit. I’ll stay for hours,” you said and looked to the side at Namjoon.

“That does explain the blanket,” Namjoon reasoned and chuckled.

“Why were you thinking I had a blanket?” He could tell you knew the answer and was equally sure you were still going to make him answer.

“I don’t know, to bring unsuspecting dates up here,” he said and it was the first joke he’d told all night. You laughed hard in response and appreciated that he finally relaxed.

“Oh yes, this is my top seduction technique,” you said between laughs.

“I should’ve been watching for that,” Namjoon joked back.

It took a minute or two for you to stop laughing enough to actually respond. Your voice went quiet, like you were admitting something you shouldn’t. “Actually, I’ve never brought anyone up here with me.”

That took Namjoon back for a second. It was as if suddenly you were much more vulnerable and serious, letting him see more to you than just the calm, confident, self assured person that had been putting him at ease all night, from picking him up and driving to saving you both from a terrible restaurant choice.

“Why did you bring me?” Namjoon asked the question quietly, the same way you had admitted it. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if you were going to answer. It was almost as if you hadn’t heard him.

“I’m not really sure,” you admitted, finally. “There’s just something different about you. We were sitting at dinner and I could tell it wasn’t your speed at all and I was like, I feel like he might appreciate it here.”

“I do,” Namjoon admitted immediately. “It’s beautiful.”

And just like that, the whole date was turned around. The two of you were able to sit, eat pizza, and talk about anything under the sun. It went from family to friends to funny stories to school or work to horrible date stories and everything in between. You went easily from laughing so hard you were nearly snorting to serious talks about things you’d been through.

It was easily one of the best dates Namjoon had ever been on. He was right, you were different. You didn’t care how you looked while you ate wings, even when the sauce was all over your fingers and lips. You laughed without caring how it sounded. It was also the easiest conversation as you flowed from one conversation to the next. And it made sense why he had been nervous, because you were obviously special.

The pizza box and leftover food had been pushed further into the car so that you could both get more comfortable looking out at the city below. Namjoon had his legs stretched out in front of him, feet hanging off the edge, while you were sat cross legged with your knee resting lightly on his thigh. Time was completely lost and it was impossible to know if you’d been there for 5 minutes or 5 hours.

“Can I admit something that I shouldn’t?” Namjoon asked and you turned your head to look at him.

“Well considering I’ve told you about multiple past dates and my parents, I’m not really sure anything is off limits,” you joked, but still looked intently at him.

“I was really nervous tonight,” Namjoon said and you looked briefly out to the city below again to hide a smile.

“I kind of got that, but you shouldn’t have been,” you said and he looked surprised. “Well, except for that restaurant, that wasn’t your best move.”

He laughed in response, amazed at how you lightened the mood yet again. “I’m going to kill Jimin for that one.”

“I said yes because the date was with you, Joon. The incredibly attractive guy with the heart melting dimples who’s also one of the kindest people I’ve ever met,” you said and the blush on Namjoon’s cheeks was immediate.

“I guess I just kind of thought you were the kind to want big fancy dates,” Namjoon said and you shook your head.

“Honestly, it’s more about the company. I’d take something easy like a picnic or a day at the amusement park with you over some fancy dinner at a place where you can only get reservations if you know someone with a guy that treats me like an object,” you admitted honestly.

It was the second time in what seemed like little more than a minute that you had complimented him. The words rolled off your tongue like it was a comment about the weather rather than something that made his heart skip a beat. Okay, several beats, really.

“I’m...a little speechless,” Namjoon said. “Nobody has ever been direct with how they’re feeling like you are.”

You shrugged. “I just don’t see the point in tiptoeing around things. The worst that can happen is I tell you how I feel and you don’t feel the same. Then at least I know and I can move on.”

“You’re not afraid?” Namjoon wasn’t sure why he pushed it, but there was something about you that made him say whatever was on his mind.

“I’d rather know,” was all you said in response.

It was the first time that he had the thought that you were keeping some part of yourself hidden. The thought disappeared quickly though, as you suddenly saw a shooting star and pointed it out. That was the crazy thing about being up on the hill. Looking down, the whole city and all it’s bright lights sprawled beneath you. But it was also removed enough from the city that you could see up into the night sky.

Everything about the moment was perfect and just the light touch of your knee to his thigh was driving Namjoon crazy. He looked over at you and could see lights reflected in your eyes as you took in everything around you. It was all too much and when you turned your head as if you felt his gaze on you, he leaned in.

His lips met yours, the pressure light and slow, despite every fiber of his being screaming that it wasn’t enough. You turned your body slightly so you could lean further into the kiss. And even though it wasn’t enough, Namjoon wasn’t in a rush either, because he felt like you two had endless time in front of you. It shouldn’t have been surprising that the two of you fit together so easily, given how the night had gone. Just like everything else that night, this was easy too. And as much as he should have been scared at how much he was feeling so soon, all he felt was complete and happy.

When you pulled back from the kiss, you shifted your body so that you could lean into him and rest your head on his shoulder. He adjusted his arm to wrap around you and relaxed into the closeness. Being able to just be with you like this without even saying anything at all might have been his favorite part of the whole night, which was saying a lot. There was just something about how comfortable you made him that made him wonder why he had ever been nervous.

So, yes, this was now the best date he had ever been on and he had no idea how he was going to top it next time. He just knew that he had to see you again. And soon.

[hellsenthero]

Strayed

Written by: hellsenthero

Bucky X Reader

It was supposed to be easy. Get in, get the info, fight some men and get out. You even had a date night with Bucky all planned out for when you got home. Unfortunately for the Avengers though, things rarely go to plan. 

Square filled: Kidnapping 

Warnings: Language. Injury. Kidnapping. (1.1k Words.)

**********

Blood dripped from your hands, pooling on the ground you kneeled on. A sharp gasp of pain escaped you as you slowly stood up, your body protesting in pain with each movement. 

    “Y/L/N, status,” Steve’s voice comes through your comm. 

    “I’m in the East wing. Just cleared it,” you answer as you look down at the bodies of men that littered the ground around you, “I’m headed back to the front now.” With a grone you leave the rubble covered lab room and head towards the front exit of the Hydra facility you and the team had attacked no more than thirty minutes ago. More than ready to get on the Quinjet and get back home to the Avengers Compound. 

    “Buck, don’t forget you said you’d be making me fresh pizza tonight.” You say into your comms, a small smile gracing your lips at your small upcoming date night with your boyfriend. You’re answered back with the sound of Bucky’s chuckle before his deep voice says, 

    “Don’t worry doll, I haven't forgotten. I went out and got all the ingredients for it yesterday.” You hum in approval before Sam speaks up. 

    “Hey, I want homemade pizza!”

    “Yeah guys, me too!” Comes Peter’s breathless reply, you can just picture him swinging between the trees outside of the base. 

    “Sorry boys, but you can’t join. It’s date night.” 

    “Ahhhh,” comes Sam’s quick reply, “date night, which means you two are gonna be fuc-”

    “Sam,” comes Steve’s voice, his tone warning, “we have little ears on here.” 

    “Oh you mean to watch my language.” Sam laughs out at the joke, unwilling to let Steve ever live it down. 

    “Guys, I’m not little, I’m sixteen.” Peter answers. Just as you go to press your comms button and join in on the conversation a rattling noise catches your ears. Stopping in the middle of the low lit hallway you’re walking through your look around. Your hand drops down from your comms to your side, palming a knife into your hand. The sound stops and you hear nothing but your own laboured breathing for a moment before it comes again. 

    Left, you think to yourself. You spin and come to face a large steel door propped open just the tiniest bit. Resting a gentle hand against it you push it open. 

    “East wing, backup now!” You gasp out into your comms before you’re ducking and dropping to the floor, just barley dodging the dager headed straight towards you. Your ear burns and blood drips down onto your neck from where you can feel it nicked you. Another dager and another near miss has you throwing yourself behind a small desk to your left, not nearly enough protection for you. You can hear commotion over the comms, Bucky’s voice sounding the most but it’s all background noise to you now. With a quick look over the desk you throw your dagger, you see it stick in the chest of one of your assailants before you’re ducking back down. 

    Five left, a number you could handle any day by yourself if you hadn’t just thrown your last dagger and weren’t severely injured. 

At the sound of bullets hitting the steel desk you’re hidden behind you couldn’t wish for the others to come to you fast enough.

A commanding voice yells out, the symphony of gun fire stops before heavy footfalls sound towards you and you know it’s not the Avengers here to back you up. No, they’re calm, collected, a swarm of Hydra agents that know they have you cornered. 

    “If you come quietly, this will all be a lot less, painful.” A gruff voice sounds. You look to your right where a bearded man with dark hair stands, his hands folded before him as he stares down at you, a cruel gleam of victory in his eyes. Men in black uniforms stand all around him, around you, filling up the room. 

    Stall, you think of the others rushing through the base at the very moment, Bucky no doubt leading them in a race to reach you. 

    “Okay,” You say calmly as you stand. Your head spins with dizziness, the ground swaying beneath you as black spots dance in your vision. You reach out a hand on the table in an attempt to steady yourself, the bloody hand print you leave on it leaving no doubt in your mind as to the cause of your poor state. 

    “Good,” the man purrs before two men are stepping forward and grabbing onto your arms painfully. Your head dips to the side with exhaustion, a groan slipping past your cracked lips as you’re dragged from the room. “I have to say, I expected more from an avenger. Especially one who’s trained with the Winter Soldier.” 

    “He has a fucking name.” You grit out as you’re marched down the hall. The sound of guns firing just down the hall let you know that the others are nearby and fighting to reach you. 

    “Not to us, he doesn’t.” The man responds coolly. 

“Y/N!” You twist around at the sound of your name, eyes searching the sea of black uniforms to find Bucky. He’s fighting like hell at the end of the hall, his metal fist flying at his assailants. As one of the men drops to the ground after a hit from him he looks towards you for a moment, you can see the fear in his eyes for you from across the hall. You twist and turn and try to rip yourself free of the men’s grips on you as he calls out your name once more. 

“Bucky!” You yell back through the swarm. How had you not clued in on the ambush sooner? You’re pulled back roughly as the butt of a gun is slammed into the side of your head.  

The last thing you see is Bucky’s wide eyes as you’re dragged backwards, his metal arm reaching out towards you in desperation, and then darkness. 

----------

You weren’t at the Avengers Compound when you awoke. No soft bed to lay on or freshly made pizza at the hands of your boyfriend waiting to be eaten up. 

No, as you peeled your eyes open you found yourself lying on the cold floor of a small cell, a pool of your own dried blood surrounding your prone body. Your head throbbed painfully, your mouth dry, the taste of iron coating your tongue and you knew where you were, who had you. 

A small tear slipped free from the corner of your eye. 

You were with Hydra. 

[yoongsgguktae]

honey, i’m home 03 | pjm

summary; your relationship with your neighbor has evolved into something stable in your life. this morning, you help ease his tension pairing; jimin x reader genre; neighbors!au | s2l | fluff | smut rating; M(18+) word count; 2.9k warnings; cussing, teasing, oral (m receiving), slight penetration with finger (f receiving), spit, saliva, lots of eye contact, some praise kink, exhibitionism (kinda?), ass slapping, boyfriend jimin, the type of man we all want, and cats

a/n i cannot thank @taestybae​ enough for reading this over, she’s amazing! check out her masterlist for her awesome work. and @dollwithluv​ for always letting me talk about my ideas. ily. MASTERLIST PART 01 | PART 02 | [PART 03]

—

You placed your baskets of fresh fruits and veggies on the kitchen counter with a heavy thump. Today has been a long day of errands, the majority of your Saturday was spent running around the city in the hot and humid weather. Your shirt clings to your body which only amplifies your discomfort. You made the mistake of leaving your food shopping as the last thing on your to-do list. The farmer’s market is around the block from your apartment, it would be easier to grab your groceries on your way back home. That is until you realized the market was crowded and you weren’t able to get all that you wanted before all the stalls started packing up after a successful day. 

You hang your keys on the newly installed hook by the door before heading to your room to change into loose clothing, your body begging to breathe in the comfort of cotton fibers. Jimin insisted on installing key hooks for you; he claims it will help keep you organized, something you desperately need to get better at. He's called you out on many occasions for losing your stuff and he's not wrong. You're well aware of what a hot mess you are, or at least were before Jimin appeared in your life that one night. He’s helped you create better habits and has become a stable influence in your life in the short amount of months you’ve known each other. 

The sound of a cat's meow catches your attention as you pass through your living room, making you halt in place. Kitty Cat rounds the corner from behind your sofa, she pointedly looks up at you, greeting you with her soft meows. "Well hello there darling," you say as you bend to pick her up. She meows again in response, cuddling into your embrace. You glance over to your window, only to realize you once again forgot to close it before leaving the apartment. This must have been the third time this week she has come for a visit, seeking your affection. It has become habitual at this point that you’ve placed food and water dishes in your kitchen and a litter box in your bathroom just for her. You brag that you have become her favorite human, that she likes you more than Jimin.

You grab a container full of apples from the baskets you left in your kitchen. Your hands are suddenly full as you step up the small stool Jimin has placed underneath your window, which has made it easier to pass through the threshold and onto the fire escape. Juggling the cat and fruits, you make your way to Jimin's open window.

"I brought you some gifts," you shout, stepping down onto his matching stool, into his living room. You place Kitty Cat on the oversized cat tower with the other two felines who are lounging in their respective cubies just as Jimin enters the space. "I got you a cat and some fruits."

"You left your window open didn't you?" Jimin asks with a knowing smile as he walks towards you. He slips one arm around your waist, bringing you flush against him, your bodies collide softly. He dips his head and captures your lips gently before letting go with a smile as sweet as honey. You'll never get tired of feeling his mouth on yours.

"I was able to grab the last basket of apples available that you asked for." You hand him the container in your grasp, letting his question go unanswered. You know he was going to continue teasing you if you didn’t drop it. He never fails to remind you what may happen when you leave your window open, “some random guy can just show up unannounced in your apartment.” The smirk he gives you whenever he brings it up makes your stomach flutter at the memory. “I also ordered pizza for dinner, we can have it at my place this time.”

"Thank you." Jimin strides to his kitchen to place the basket down. You watch as he runs a hand down his face while he lets out a groan quietly to himself. His arms extend above his head as he bends forward to stretch his body. He was busy this morning, stuck in a meeting for several hours. His upper body is probably stiff from pacing back and forth like you know he does during those long calls. The look on his face tells you the meeting didn't go well. 

You make your way over to where he stood, reaching for his back. His tense muscles visibly loosen at your touch as you press soothing circles into his shoulders. His head moves to crack the tension in his neck, it’s an awful sound that you haven't gotten accustomed to, a habit of his that still freaks you out every time you hear the snap. You continue your soft massages, coaxing him to relax against you. "How did it go?" You tread carefully, not wanting to stir up any more stress in him.

Jimin turns around with a low moan escaping his lips, your hands fall to your side at his movement. He faces you and gingerly grasps your wrists to reposition them back onto his shoulders while he moves to drop his head on your own. “It went terrible,” His arms circle your waist again, he breathes in the smell of your hair before he exhales his continued response, "the client made us wake up early on a Saturday, sit through a three-hour-long meeting, only to say they want to push back the date of the release."

He brings a hand into your hair, wrapping one of the curls around his finger. "Such a waste of my Saturday morning. I could have had you laid in my bed, taking care of you as I should." You feel a soft kiss against your neck, and then another one. He trails small pecks down to your collarbone, his hand moving to grasp the back of your head as the other holds your waist to keep you close. 

Your hands find purchase in his locks, you revel in his selfless affection. "How about I take care of you?" you whisper. He always thinks about you first, your wants and needs, his always coming second. Your nails scrap against his scalp gently. You know how much he loves it, how much it calms him down. “Let me take your stress away.” Jimin groans in response to your ministrations and at your suggestive words. His warm breath fans your neck.

He lands another kiss on your collarbone. "You don't have to do that for me, baby." He brings his lips up higher, giving you an open mouth kiss just below your ear. “Just having you here with me is enough.”

"But I want to." 

His body untangles itself from yours as you move back from his embrace. Jimin lets out a whine at the separation. You slide your hands down his arms, gripping his biceps in appreciation. You have claimed them as yours since you started dating a few weeks ago. And he gladly welcomed your possessiveness; he relishes in your attention and praise, and he’d been unashamed in admitting just how devoted he was to you. You pull him by his hands with a smirk, you already know what he needs. "Come sit on the couch and relax," you hum.

His eyes grow dark with lust as he allows you to guide him into the living room. He takes a seat on his couch, slouching back into the cushion as you pull a leg over his lap to straddle him. His hands automatically find your thighs, running them up and down tenderly. Your own hands find themselves back in his hair as you hover over his lips, close enough to feel your breaths intertwine. 

"I missed you," you whisper. Jimin smiles before he captures your lips in a slow kiss. 

"I missed you more."

You connect your lips with more need this time. Your mouths immediately open to play with each other's tongue in urgency. His hands move up your body, stopping at your ass to palm you. You moan with appreciation directly into his mouth. You love it when he touches you there, it makes you feel sexy when he plays with your backside. His fingers slide under your cotton shorts, tracing the edges of your panties until he reaches your folds. A shiver runs up your spine at the touch. 

You pull back from his lips and drop your face against his neck with a low moan. "I'm supposed to be the one taking care of you."

You feel his body tremble as he lets out a small laugh. He moves your panties aside before he dips a finger around your entrance. He swirls it around, coating it with your growing wetness, and slides his finger up and down your lips tantalizingly slow. "I want you to feel good too." 

You shudder in response, more moans escaping your lips as he continues to rub circles around your clit. His finger returns to your entrance every so often to barely dip inside your heat and return to your folds, using your own juices as lubrication. Your thighs tighten around his waist in response to the pleasure building up inside you, your knees dipping further into the couch on either side of him. 

You trail kisses down his neck as he toys with you. He shifts in anticipation underneath you in response to your attacks along his neck, your teeth and mouth leaving marks against his clear skin. You reach down between your bodies, your fingers grazing his clothed bulge. You start undoing the ties of his sweats, not wanting to delay his pleasure.

As much as you loved the attention he was giving you, your mind was set on his growing need. You pull his hand away from your heat as you get off his lap. Your lips meet again in a quick sloppy exchange before you hook your fingers into his waistband. You catch his piercing gaze as you kneel in front of him, his legs automatically spreading in response to your position with his mouth hanging open. You’ve never set your eyes on a more beautiful man than Jimin, especially when he spreads his legs for you with lust-filled bedroom eyes.

Jimin raises his body off the couch to ease the effort of tugging his pants. You pull them down along with his briefs, just over his ass, enough to release his member from the confines of his clothing. He sighs at the feeling of his sensitive skin suddenly being exposed to the warm air, as if all his tension has been released. Unable to wait any longer, you don't give yourself time to admire the beauty of his cock before you eagerly reach to wrap your hand around his shaft.

You rub your thumb along his slit, playing with the bit of pre-cum that has begun to leak. His gaze is set on your lips as you position your mouth above his tip. Your lips part slightly as you drop collected saliva onto his awaiting cock. 

"Ah fuck." 

Jimin hisses as you use your own spit to lubricate him, spreading it up and down his rigid member in slow drags with your hands. His eyes move from watching your strokes back up to your eyes. "You're so fucking good to me."

His hand finds its way in your hair, he wraps his fingers around the nape of your neck and pulls you towards him. Your lips crash against each other as you continue twisting your wrist to please him, the other hand lightly massaging his thigh. His soft moans flow into your mouth, hot breath can be felt against your tongue. You jerk at his tip, giving it special attention. His teeth pull your bottom lip as he lets out a groan in response. “I haven’t even gotten started yet.” You chuckle against his lips. Your own desires stirring with his words of encouragement, you’re determined to give him all the attention he deserves.

You capture his lips once more in a tender peck before you lower your mouth back above his cock. You kiss the pink head softly, his breath hitches at the feel of your lips on him. Your gentle kisses trail down his length, you look up to meet his gaze again. His eyes are blown out with anticipation. 

Your thumb moves around his tip with care as you start sucking the base of his cock with open mouth kisses. Jimin's hips buck in response, his moans are music to your ears. Your tongue leaves a glistening sheen in its wake as you drag your tongue up his length before swirling around the tip and taking him in your mouth.

"Holy shit." 

His eyes flutter shut and he lets his head fall back against the couch as you take all of him ever so slowly. Your hands grip either side of his thighs while you bob your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks as he continues to hit the back of your throat. His low pants encourage you to increase the intensity of your motions simply to elicit more of them. Your own thighs start rubbing together at the sound of his sinful moans.

Saliva drips down his cock with your relentless motion, coating his balls with your spit. Your hands remain on his thighs, you’ve been faintly leaving scratch marks against his skin. You grip at his tense muscles, you can sense he's holding back, trying to restrain himself from fucking into your mouth. You release him, a string of your spit still connecting you to him. His head lifts from the couch in disappointment at the sudden loss of contact, your mouth was so warm and tight. His eyes search yours in question as his rigid member slightly sways with no support from your hands or mouth. “Baby, why’d you stop?” he whines.

Your hand replaces your mouth once again with long, even strokes. You give him a smirk as you lower your lips to his balls while maintaining eye contact. You've learned how much he loves it when you give them attention. Your mouth starts to suck at one before taking it fully in with a slurp. Jimin threads his fingers in your hair once again, the slight tug feels delicious against your scalp. A low grunt pushes past his lips while you suckle his balls. He hisses out, "Yes, just like that.” 

His body starts shaking, the combined pleasure from your hand along his shaft and your mouth sucking around his base has him seeing stars. You feel his rise in pleasure as his breathing picks up and his moans are dragging out in low guttural sounds. You see the sweat forming along his forehead, his face scrunching up in pure bliss.

From the corner of your eyes, you see a figure appear beside Jimin on the couch. Your gaze sweeps over to find one of his cats looking up expectantly at their owner, wanting her own share of attention. With one of his balls still in your mouth, you look back at Jimin as he becomes aware of the intruder. He watches his cat take a seat on the adjacent cushion as it curiously watches. You can't tell if his cheeks are turning pink because of the pleasure you're giving him or if it's because he's getting shy. 

"Fuck, I can't."

He lets go of your head and grabs at your hands. You release his ball from your mouth, confused on why he stopped you. He reaches for your lips, cleaning up the spit running down your chin with his thumb. He holds your face in the palm of his hand. His breathing is still erratic. 

"I can't do this in front of her." 

It takes you a moment to realize how truly shy he was. "Are you seriously embarrassed to have sex in front of your cats?" You try your best to hold in your laugh. 

"Yes, ok. It feels extremely awkward when she's staring at me while you suck me off," he huffs. His cock continues to stand rigid while he explains. 

It's just you, him, his cock, and Kitty Cat stuck in a moment of silence before you burst in laughter. He furrows his eyebrows at you, not amused by your outburst. "Are you laughing at me? You think this is funny?" 

You fall back to the floor on your butt as Jimin scoots forward on the couch, giggles still tumbling out of you. He stands to pull his sweatpants back up before he bends to scoop you with little effort. His strong arm holds your thighs in a tight grip against him and his other hand suddenly makes contact with your rear. You feel a stinging smack against your ass cheek just as he settles you over his shoulder and you gasp.

"I'll teach you to not make fun of me." His hands slip under your shorts, rubbing his palm over your sensitive skin. 

"Oh no, I'm scared." Without a moment of hesitation, he gives you another smack, but this time you moan in response as he palms you again to soothe the sting. He turns, heading in the direction of his room, away from the eyes of his girls.

He drops you on the bed, your body bounces against his mattress, your laughter hasn't stopped. He closes his bedroom door and turns back towards you. Jimin grabs at your calves and pulls you to the edge of the bed. "You won't be laughing once I'm done with you."

—

< PART 02

all rights reserved © 2020 yoongsgguktae copying / redistributing the work is not allowed

—

reviews are always welcomed :)

MASTERLIST

[chaoticgremlinwholikescheese]

The Dare

A/N: I am so sorry I am so bad at slowburn. Also Katharine is kind of a jerk in this one. 

JACK’S POV:

“Race, truth or dare?” He considers for a moment. “Truth.”  Davey searches his brain for a good dare. “Favorite flavor of ice cream?” Everyone at the table groans. “They’re supposed to be scandalous questions, Davey!” Albert laughs. “I don’t know what to ask! Um. Are you a top or a bottom?”

“That’s more like it. And for your information, I am a switch.” He winks at his boyfriend Spot. Spot rolls his eyes with a smirk. “Jack’s turn. Jack, truth or dare?” I immediately say dare. These boys already know pretty much everything about me. I’d like to keep the few secrets I have secret.

Race glances around the room. He gets a mischievous glint in his eye. “Ask her out on a date.” He points to a girl across the room. She’s reading a book titled ‘The rise and Fall of Germany, ww1 and ww2′. It looks like it weighs as much as Spot.

“That’s Alex Kaminski. Every single guy who’s asked her on a date has been rejected. If you can get her to say yes, I’ll pay for your lunch.” I look down at my empty plate. “I already ate it.” 

“I’ll pay for your next lunch.”

Satisfied with the bet, I get up. Asking out a girl is no problem. I’m the flirting extraordinarie. I make my way over to her table and sit across from her. I put on my flirtiest smile. “Hey.” She peeks over her book. “Can I help you?” 

“Yeah. I lost my phone number, so I was hoping I could get yours.” She blinks slowly. “That was one of the worst pick up lines I have ever heard.” She closes her book. I finally get a good look at her face. She’s actually really cute. 

She has brown hair tied back in a bun. Her green eyes are bright, staring at me with an emotion I can’t quite identify. Freckles dot her nose. I half expected her to be the stereotypical nerd, braces, zits, that kind of thing. I was very wrong. 

“You’re Jack Kelly, right?” I nod my head. “How can I help you, Jack Kelly? Do you need a report written? Or a tutor to help bring up your grades?” 

“As tempting as those offers are, I’m actually here to ask you out on a date.” 

She raises an eyebrow. “A date?”

“Mhm. I’ll pick you up at eight-”

“Hold on, Romeo. I didn’t say yes.”

“Are you going to say no?”

She thinks for a moment. “Usually I would. But something about you intrigues me. Pick me up at eight. Here’s my phone number.” 

She slides a piece of paper across the table. Then she goes right back to her book. I take the hint and get up, walking back to my table. They all look at me expectantly. I place the number on the table. Race’s eyes widen. “She actually said yes? I was counting on her embarrassing you in front of everyone!”

“Thanks, Race. And she did in fact say yes. I’m picking her up at eight.”

“Don’t you guys think this is kind of mean?” Davey chimes in. 

“Aw, it’s just a date. Not like it’ll get serious or anything.”

Alex is waiting out front when I arrive. I wave. She climbs into the passenger seat. “Good afternoon, milady.” I look at the clock. “Or good night? I don’t know. Anyways, hello.” 

“Hi. So, where are we going on this date?”

“I was thinking we could grab some pizza at Jacobis.”

She nods in approval and switches on the radio. An up beat pop song comes on, and she starts to sing along. She has a good voice. I hum along under my breath. She starts swaying to the music, and I join her. Soon the two of us are full on rocking out. The song ends and we both start laughing.

We pull up to Jacobi’s and park. I hold the door for her like a gentleman. We grab a table in the corner.  A waiter comes over for our orders. “I’ll take a slice of pineapple and an orange soda, please.” Alex raises an eyebrow. “Pineapple?”

“Before you say anything, it’s delicious.” 

“I’m not judging. I was actually going to get the same thing. Make that two slices of pineapple, an orange soda, and a lemonade.”

The waiter scribbles it down and rushes off. Alex crosses her arms on the table. “So. You like pineapple too.” 

“Yup. And Race says that makes me the spawn of satan. Honestly, I take that as a compliment.” 

“Fun fact, Hawaiian pizza was actually created in Canada.”

“My whole life is a lie.” I dramatically place a hand to my forehead.

The conversation flows easily, like tomato sauce. Not the best analogy. You know what I mean though. We actually have a lot in common. We both like art, we’re both bi, and we’re both failing math. She’s actually a really nice girl. I find myself enjoying the date.

We talk for hours. I only notice how much time has passed when Jacobi’s starts to close. We’re the last people in the restaurant. We quickly pay the check and leave. I drive her home, and we talk the whole way. When we get to her house, I realize that I don’t want the date to end.

“Thanks for tonight. I had fun.” She smiles. God, her smile is beautiful.

“D-do you maybe want to do it again? A second date?”

“I’d like that.”

“So? Was she crazy? Is she a serial killer? Or is she actually a secret spy for the FBI?” Race hounds me with questions. “I bet it wasn’t that nice. She’s not even cute.” Katharine mutters. “Actually, I had a really good night with her. We’re going on a second date.” Everyone’s eyes widen. “Now you have to tell me everything!” Race squeals.

“There’s not much to tell. We got pizza at Jacobi’s and had fun. She’s kind of awesome.” I blush when I admit that. “Jack’s got a crush! I told you I was an expert matchmaker, Davey!” 

“What? You- but it was all a joke, right? You aren’t actually planning to date her, right?” I sense a tone of jealousy in her words. “I really like her.” I run a nervous hand through my hair. Davey pats me on the shoulder. “She’s a nice girl. You chose well.” Katharine scoffs under her breath. I choose to ignore it.

We all head into the cafeteria. I see Alex at her normal table, head buried in her book. I walk over and invite her to sit with us. She hesitates, but then she says yes. She takes a seat next to me at the table. The boys stare at her like with interest. She awkwardly waves.

“Everyone, this is Alex. Alex, this is. Well. Everyone.” I gesture widely around the table. They all give various greetings. “So, what are you reading?” Davey asks. She shows him the cover. “I read that a while ago! It was super interesting.” 

“Look at the two nerds bonding,” Finch chuckles. “You’re Katharine Pulitzer, right? We have english together.” Katharine pastes on a fake smile and nods.  When lunch ends, we all split up. Katharine and I head to Science together. “What’s your deal with Alex?” 

“She’s nice. I just don’t like her vibe.”

“Her vibe?”

“She’s not really your type. I don’t really get what you see in her.”

“Once you get to know her, you’ll like her as much as I do. She’s great, I promise.” 

ALEX’S POV:

I offer to pay for the movie tickets, but Jack insists on paying. We buy tickets to see a new comedy with Jack Black. We get some popcorn and candy. We have seats near the back. While we wait for the movie to start, Jack throws some popcorn and catches in his mouth.

I try but miss. He laughs and catches another piece. The two of us go back and forth, trying to see who can catch the most. By the time the trailers start, we’ve dropped almost half the popcorn. 

About halfway through the movie, Jack places his arm around my shoulders. The classic date move. I don’t mind though. I lean against him, and I see his big dopey smile. I probably have one of my own. 

Jack drives me home, and we chat the whole way. I feel like I’ve known him for ages. He walks me to my front door. We stare at each other for a moment. The air is tense, electricity zapping between us. My heart starts to beat faster. Blood rushes to my cheeks.

“Can-can I kiss you?” Jack chokes out. I don’t give him an answer. I just press my lips to his. He places a hand on my cheek. His lips are gentle, loving. When we pull away, both of us are breathing heavily. 

“Wow.” Jack whispers.

I blush and avert my eyes. 

“You’re going to take me out on a third date, right?”

ALEX’S POV:

Katharine is waiting for me outside our english class. “Hey, Kath!” She doesn’t say hi back. She ushers for me to follow her. She leads me to an empty hallway. “What’s with the secrecy?”

“I have something to tell you. And I’m only doing this because I consider you a friend.” I can see straight through her acting. She’s as fake as Regina George. “What is it?”

“I know you really like Jack. And that’s why I’m really sorry to have to tell you this. But the date he asked you out on? It was a dare. From Race.” I force a laugh. “You’re kidding right?” 

She shakes her head. “Do you have any proof?” Katharine pulls out her phone. She scrolls for a few second before handing it to me. It’s a group chat between the gang.

RACE: I still can’t believe she said yes

JACK: I told you, I’m the dare master

ALBERT: that’s a terrible name

JACK: whatever, I still won

RACE: you can’t win truth or dare

FINCH: what are you going to do for the date?

JACK: Take her out for a cheap date, say it’s not working out, win the game

RACE: there’s no winning in truth or dare dude

I fight the tears gathering in my eyes. I hand Katharine her phone back. She stares at me with fake pity. “I’m-I’m going to go.” I rush out of the room. I head to the nearest bathroom and sit in the stall. I let the tears fall. I thought he loved me. I loved him. I was just a joke. He just used me to look cool.

For once I felt loved. Like someone liked me for me. I’m the weird kid, the one people ignore and make fun of. I should have known that he didn’t actually love me. I’m the oddity. All I’m good for is a joke.

I spend the rest of the period in the bathroom. I finally run out of tears. I splash some water on my face. My reflection stares back at me. I look like a ghost. I guess I am in a way. No one really sees me. 

I walk to Jack’s science classroom. I wait outside. The bell finally wrings and people start to exit. I see Jack come out. He smiles and walks towards me. 

“Hey, hon-”

“Don’t.”

JACK’S POV:

I think I’m in love. That may sound crazy, but it’s true. I’ve only been dating Alex for a month. Best month of my life. I’ve never connected with someone like this. The whole gang likes her too. Except for Katharine. She has something against Alex, I don’t know what.

The bell finally rings. I walk outside and see Alex leaning against the wall. “Hey, hon-”

“Don’t.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Was I just a dare to you?” 

My face goes white. “Alex, it’s not like that! It started as a dare, but I really like you. I was going to tell you, but I didn’t want to mess it up-”

“You messed it up when you used me to win a fucking game, dare master. You’re a dick, Kelly. I thought someone finally saw me as something other than the school freak. I guess that’s all I am. A freak people use for their own gain.”

“Please. I love you.”

“Just stop. No more lies.” 

She turns her back and walks away. I start to run after her, but the crowd of students pushes me back. I force my way through the crowd. I run into Katharine. Before she can get a word out I ask if she’s seen Alex. 

“I haven’t. Is everything alright?”

“No. She found out about the dare. She broke up with me.” 

“That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t care about being dare master, I care about her.” I pause. How did Alex know about the whole dare master conversation? She couldn’t have. Unless someone showed her the texts. And she has her first period with Katharine.

“You told Alex.” 

“So what if I did? She wasn’t the right girl for you. You need a girl like me.”

“You don’t get to make that decision! I loved her, and you took that away! Did you really think breaking me up with Alex would make me love you? I don’t love you, Katharine. I never will.”

Katharine tries to defend herself, but I run off. I need to find Alex. I search everywhere, but I can’t find her. Then I look out the window. She’s sitting under a tree. Her knees are pulled to her chest. Her arms are wrapped around her body like they’re the only thing holding her together.

I race outside. She looks up when she hears me coming. “What do you want?” She hisses. “To talk. Please.” She bites her lip. “Fine.” I take a seat next to her. I can see the tear stains on her shirt. My heart breaks. I did this to her. I hurt the woman I love.

“You have five minutes.” 

“Alex, it started out as a dare. And I was stupid to take it. I didn’t think about how it would affect you. And I am so, so sorry. And what I said about loving you? That wasn’t a lie. I really do love you.”

“How can I believe you?”

“You can’t. And I don’t expect you to forgive me. I understand if you never want to talk to me again. And I’ll respect that. Whatever you want, I’ll do.”

“God damn it, Jack. You make it so hard to hate you.” Alex tearfully laughs. “What you did, it hurt. I’m willing to give you a second chance because I love you. Don’t make me regret it.”

I gently hold her hand. She leans her head on my shoulder. We’re not perfect. We probably never will be. But all that matters is that we love each other. That’s more than enough.

[astraeagreengrass]

Delicate

Steve has an important question to ask you

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Word Count: 2.051

Warnings: Idiots in love, fluff

A/N: I couldn't let this month end without submitting something for 30 Days of Chris, a wonderful initiative by @jtargaryen18​ to celebrate Chris Evans and his characters. This was proof-read by @xbuchananbarnes​. The title and inspiration came from Taylor Swift's Delicate. I hope you like it ♡

Is it cool that I said all that? Is it chill that you're in my head? 'Cause I know that it's delicate (Delicate) Is it cool that I said all that? Is it too soon to do this yet? 'Cause I know that it's delicate Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it?

Thunder clapped in deafening noise, briefly drowning out the relentless honking of cars stranded on 6th Avenue.

Storms weren't that unusual for New York City, but you always felt like they didn't belong - as if even Mother Nature's mood swings couldn't compare to the might of the concrete jungle, with it’s skyscrapers reaching as high as the sky itself. The city was a man-made wonder, cemented with defiance instead of concrete. It was the perfect place for a superhero to call home.

And his home was too far from yours, literally and figuratively. Still, Steve Rogers was nothing if not worth the effort of bracing the traffic from Brooklyn to Manhattan during rush hour on a rainy Friday evening.

You’d taken the day off work to get dolled up at your cousin's salon. Tried on different updos, changed your nail color twice and your lipstick shade thrice. Spent the savings you didn't really have on a dress you couldn't really afford and got blisters on your feet from practicing walking with stilettos. Going to a Stark Foundation gala was not a typical night in your life, even if you were maybe, sort of, dating Captain America.

It was a grey zone, the same shade as the heavy clouds that overcast the days you spent apart. Steve was spring; he was the early morning sun and fresh flowers blooming. A a week without him and the city - hostile and relentless and screaming his name at every corner - darkened.

You’d gone longer without seeing him, of course, but that was before he flooded your veins with golden infatuation. Steve Rogers was in your blood now and you didn’t even notice how he got there. Was it in late January, having coffee together after months of running the same trail? Or possibly in early March when you walked the Brooklyn bridge at night, just you, him and the specks of snow lazily trickling down from the heavens as Steve kissed you for the first time? Perhaps it was yesterday when his throathy, tired voice whispered through the phone: "I miss you".

You hadn't talked about it, whatever it was. You'd run together everyday, eat pizza at tiny hole-in-the-wall restaurants and kiss - soft pecks and gentle brushes to his nose and cheeks that'd turn into a tug of your bottom lip and a swipe of his tongue - but you weren't his girlfriend. He hadn't asked you to be. And maybe if he was any other guy you wouldn't have such anxiety over not knowing, but Steve was old fashioned.

The fragility of you and him was haunting. If Steve was spring then you were autumn, falling apart for him little by little, like brown leaves disentangling from their trees. It was terrifying to now know if he would be there to catch you before you hit the ground.

And yet, hope lingered. It lived in the scratch on fingertips as you paid the taxi driver and in the stray raindrops that wet your skin ahead of the doorman coming to your rescue with an umbrella. It trickled from your words as you gave your name to the hostess and swooshed the air around the skirt of your dress as you entered the main part of the building.

Hope was a tall, blond-haired man waiting for you on the top floor, the first person you saw when the doors open and you exited the elevator. Steve's handsome face breaks into a relieved smile, tugging at every one of your heartstrings. With one, two, three strides he has in you in his arms.

"Hi," he breathes out in your hair. "Thank you for being here."

"Of course," you whisper back, because there's honestly nowhere else you'd rather be.

Steve is sure his bones have dissolved, and the only thing keeping him standing is the press of your body against his. He feels frail, weak as he was before Erskine's serum; he feels strong, stronger than science could ever make him. He dies a thousand deaths and comes alive a million times in the brief, yet infinite moments of your hug.

"I love you," he almost screamed to the crook of your neck, holding it back at the last second.

Tony’s warned rung in his mind:

"Things are more casual these days, Capsicle," he’d explained one morning over breakfast. "You don't really ask if she wants to be your girlfriend. It happens naturally."

But Steve wanted to ask. He wanted to meet your parents and stress over making a good impression. He wanted to court you. He wanted to introduce you to every single person in this lousy party as his girl.

A throat being cleared broke you apart. A pretty redhead woman stands a few feet away, hands clasped behind her back and a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“You must be Y/N,” she smirks. “I’m Natasha.”

She was quicker than Steve's protest, snatching you by the arm away from him and into the glittering crowd.

"Romanoff!" he exclaimed.

"Get over it, Rogers," she retorted, then, as if you two were old friends, whispered: "Everyone's been dying to meet you."

Natasha maneuvered your bodies between the guests, nodding politely to some and waving to others, while Steve followed like a lost puppy. Unlike her, Steve wasn't as good as excusing himself from the admirers and he swiftly lost you in the sea of adulation.

By the bar, two men watched the scene, failing miserably at hiding their laughs. You knew them, of course. Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes, Steve's best friends and teammates. Avengers - just like the woman holding onto you.

Bucky was more reserved, offering you a handshake and a pleasant smile, but Sam was a hugger and a hell of a good one. He had a mischievous grin when he said:

"I can't believe I've finally met the famous Y/N!"

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"I'm famous?!"

Bucky snickered.

"Damn right you are! Do you know how long we've been asking Cap to bring you over? I must say, there were times I thought you weren't real," he shrugged, still grinning, and Natasha playfully punched him in the arm.

"Ignore bird brain over here," she said. "Although he's right: it did take too long for Steve to introduce you."

"Only he didn't," Bucky quipped. "I'm sure I saw you interrupting their moment by the elevator."

"He was never gonna let her go if I didn't!" she justified. "Besides, it was his turn to interact with the mayor. I heard his monologue for the past two parties and I'm not doing it again."

Looking over your shoulder, you saw Steve a few yards away chatting - or rather, listening - to the mayor. He had his hands on his waist and a frown between his eyebrows, but, as if he felt you watching, his face relaxed and he smiled - bright and warm and Steve.

Sam whistled.

"Damn, he's smitten."

The mayor held Steve up for several more minutes - enough for you to decide to not vote for him if he tried reelection. And although it was a nerve-wracking to be in their presence at first, Natasha, Sam and Bucky engaged you in friendly conversation as if you'd know each other for ages, laced with easy going banter and funny anecdotes about Steve.

"So when we get to the first loop, Stevie's gone green," Bucky recounts "And lemme tell ya, I've never knew someone so skinny could throw up so much. The girl in the car in front of us started screaming because his guts went straight to her hair."

You laughed, a little louder than you would when talking to someone for the first time, but perhaps that was because Natasha made her drinks on the stronger side or because you could just picture Steve throwing up at Coney Island.

"Please tell me you're not telling her about that time at the Cyclone," someone groans behind you and a familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist.

You'd failed to notice how beautiful he looked when you walked in, or rather, how beautiful his outfit was. Steve was always handsome, but seeing him in a suit brought butterflies to your stomach. Your gaze followed the sharp line of the jacket, perfectly fitted to his broad shoulders, until they met his lapels and tie. He was an art piece, a sculpture, and he was looking at you.

"I'm stealing her back, Romanoff," he announced, helping you out of the bar stool before your new friend could protest. Whisking you away to a makeshift dance floor, Steve twirled you before tucking you closer than what would be considered well-behaved. His chest was as hard as a rock under the smooth cotton of his shirt, which smelled heavenly.

"I'm sorry about Natasha," he whispered to the crown of your head.

"It's ok," and it really was. "Your friends are nice."

Steve scoffed.

"They like giving me shit."

"I think they love you," you said, and only after your words were out in the open you realized their double meaning.

He pulled back by an inch, just enough to tilt your head up.

"I love them too," he smiled, and every single piece of you broke down in passion.

Neither of you were good dancers, but for a while you swayed side to side to the smooth sounds of the live band. It could've been minutes or hours - time was irrelevant next to the magnitude of Steve Rogers - but when he spoke again the room was noticeably emptier.

"I need to ask you something."

You nodded, wordlessly telling him to carry on.

"I know things are different these days," he mumbled, and anyone less attuned than he was probably wouldn't have heard it clearly. "But I feel bad about possibly leading you on."

Oh, no.

Oh, God, no.

You stalled, dropping your arms down and away from him, mouth twisting in a perfectly shocked "O".

"You're joking,” you stuttered. "You brought me here to say you're leading me on?"

It made no sense. You'd been talking everyday, even while he was away for his mission. You'd met his freaking friends. You hated being the girl that freaked out over being dumped - were you being dumped? Or was Steve just not into you the way you were into him? - but disappointment rung loud in your ears and left a bitter taste in your tongue.

"What? No!" he exclaimed. "I don't want to!"

"You don't want to?"

"I don't want to lead you on but I feel like I am," he blurted out, cheeks getting pinker by the second.

"Oh, that is rich," the remaining guests were beginning to stare now, but you couldn't care less. "Are you even sure of anything at all?"

"I know that I don't want to keep doing this," he motioned for the space between you, “if we're not on the same page."

That was it then. The end. And you'd spend so much money on this dress!

"Well, I'm sorry for wasting your time," you whispered, tears threatening to spill at any moment. "I really thought you liked me."

You turned to leave, disappear down the elevator and forget this night ever existed, but Steve grabbed your arm as if you weighed nothing, infuriating you even more.

"What?" you seethed. "You'd fooled me for months. Can't you let me go now?"

"You think I don't like you?" he was flabbergasted.

"Clearly you don't since you feel oh so terrible about 'possibly leading me on'," you air quoted his previous statement.

"I don't want to lead you on into thinking I don't want anything serious," he said. "I want serious. I want you to be my girlfriend."

Yes.

Oh, God, yes.

"Really?" you gasped.

"Really," and nothing was more beautiful than his smile. You'd keep it in your mind's locket forever.  "I'm in love with you, Y/N."

Outside, the rain was still pouring. It would go on throughout the weekend, washing away the last of winter, but inside spring had arrived in the soft, welcoming lips of Steve Rogers.

By the bar, Sam slid a hundred dollar bill to Bucky's metal hand.

"I told you he'd do it,” the Sergeant smirked.

"Yeah, yeah. I just hope he gets better by the time he proposes."

[wylanvnneck]

Rating: G for Giganotosaurus

Summary: Based on a TFOTA headcanon which I posted on Tumblr about Cardan and Jude visiting the Mortal world and Cardan getting introduced to pick-up lines. That he uses. Frequently. Which, of course completely irritates Jude.

Originally posted on AO3 | Previous Chapter | Masterlist

Chapter 2

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

The next morning Jude wakes to the late morning sunlight streaming through the window onto the bed where Cardan still slept. Quietly, so as not to disturb him, she untangles herself from his grasp and heads to the bathroom to freshen up, having fallen asleep in her traveling clothes from earlier in the morning.

Cardan is sitting up with a lazy grin curving his lips when she comes back, his eyes trained on her.

“Good morning, wife.”

“Husband,” she returns.

He looks around the room in the daylight and his expression turns thoughtful, dark eyes deepening. “Did you...think of me when you were here?” He asks her, sounding uncharacteristically cautious

She looks straight at his face, remembering the pain she’d been in during her first days here, all those months ago. She’d spent her first few days in exile moping around and not thinking about her treacherous husband. With a little help from Vivi and many tubs of mint and chocolate chip ice cream she’d finally gotten out of her pajamas and returned to her training routines, all the more vicious as she thought up ways to get her revenge on the High King of Faerie.

“I did. I used to stay up late into the night with Vivi once Oak was asleep and we would plot ways to kill you.”

Cardan smiles a wry smile at her admission, “I’d expect nothing less from you, my sweet nemesis.”

“I know you thought of me, you’ve told me about your letters.” Letters that she would never get to see, thanks to Lady Asha.

He shifts in the bed, tail swishing in the air. “I did. I thought of you incessantly. My anger at you over Balekin didn’t last long and soon I found myself wondering why you hadn’t returned yet. I worried that you’d found the Mortal world more pleasurable than Elfhame. That you preferred your life here. In my darkest moments I’d imagine you with another. I’d imagine never seeing you again.”

His voice is racked with pain and sincerity, the anguish he’d felt written clearly on his features. “So many times, I thought of coming here. To see you, even if just from a distance. But I couldn’t leave our Kingdom, I couldn’t forsake the duties you’d entrusted  me with when you crowned me, even if you were meant to be by my side always. That throne that you’d worked so hard to save, I couldn’t risk leaving it when the threat of Madoc loomed so near. Jude, believe me when I say that my thoughts were always, always of you, my brave villain.”

His confession touches her very soul. She takes in the sight of him, broken and exposed and her heart quickens. The High King of Elfhame, her husband, who would only ever be this open and unguarded in front of her, his queen. She comes closer to him on the bed and bends down, stroking his messy black curls away from his face as she gently lowers her lips to his.

* * *

They’ve arrived on a Saturday so Oak is scarfing down a bowl of sugary cereal when she and Cardan enter the kitchen. He looks up with excitement and rushes to give his sister a bear hug, squeezing her as tightly as his 8 year old hands can. “Jude you’re finally here, I missed you!”

She playfully ruffles his nut brown hair and squeezes him back, pulling away to give him a once over, “I missed you too, Oak.”

He goes to hug Cardan while Jude finally spots Heather, Vivi’s pink-haired girlfriend who was currently by the kitchen table, making her way over to say Hi. “Good to see you again, Jude. Vivi’s just popped off to grab some groceries. Hopefully she uses actual money this time,” she rolls her eyes, smiling.

“Nice to see you too, Heather,” Jude smiles in response.

Once they’re all sat around the dining room table and Cardan and Jude are equipped with their own bowls of cereal, the multi-coloured loops of which had captured Cardan’s initial fascination and Jude now watches out of the corner of her eye as he sits stirring his breakfast, entranced, as the colours slowly bleed into the milk, turning it slightly muddy. She finds him quite adorable with that expression on his face. Maybe even charming. Not that she’d ever say it out loud.

She tunes in to what Heather is saying at the moment, “So, what do you guys wanna do today?” She looks expectantly at them and Jude tries to think of an answer but is thankfully interrupted by her brother.

“Ooh ooh, can we go to the mall today? And have pizza for lunch?” he jumps in his seat.

“Tell me, what is a ‘maul’? And what type of a food is this, ‘Pizza’?” Cardan interjects. Oak slowly turns to him with a look of horror on his face.

“You’ve never had pizza??” He turns to Heather, “We have to have pizza, Heather, we have to.” He faces Cardan once again and starts telling him all about pizza and all the different toppings and which combos worked and which didn’t and how eating pineapple on pizza was an unforgivable sin.

Heather laughs a little as she looks at Jude, “Well, I guess we’re having pizza today.”

“I guess we are,” Jude laughs back, watching her little brother excitedly explaining mortal customs to her husband.

They head out to the nearest shopping mall once Vivi’s back and they travel by bus which leads to another shock for Cardan who is in awe at the fact that this metal box was able to move on it’s own. Truly, mortals did have some funny ideas, he’d remarked, astonished.

His eyes are locked on the view outside the whole time, taking in the concrete and cement, in stark contrast to the raw natural surroundings of Faerie.  He is dressed in better fitting mortal clothes than last night which Vivi had gotten for him. A dark shirt and dark fitted jeans, with space for him to tuck his tail in. He glamours his face to appear more mortal, with rounded ears, accentuated by his usual gold studs and he is still inordinately attractive for a mortal and Jude knows he’ll be receiving lots of stares. Especially appreciative ones from girls. She is suddenly conscious of her concealed dagger.

Once they arrive Oak immediately drags them to the gaming zone, introducing Cardan to the wonders of playstations. He teaches  them how to play Mario Kart and the little character on the screen whose movements you could control was indeed, quite entertaining.

He is less enthusiastic when Heather and Vivi drag them to Sephora, the makeup store. Nevertheless, he tries his hardest to stay still and is justly rewarded with an achingly sweet candy floss that he graciously shares with everyone.

Cardan, for his part, is not only entranced by the fluffy pink treat but also by the cosmetics surrounding him, letting Heather draw Kohl on him with liquid black eyeliner and applying shiny silver highlighter on his high cheekbones. Vivi even forces Jude to try on a dark shade of red lipstick that Cardan later attempts to kiss off of her when they are alone in between the secluded store aisles.

Finally, they emerge from the store, shopping bags in tow as they head to the food court for lunch. The place is buzzing, with a multitude of smells permeating the air. Oak immediately makes a beeline for the blue and red themed food stall with a sign that reads ‘Domino’s’ in large lettering. The scent of pizza being baked is enticing and they quickly order a personal pizza each plus coca cola.

Thankfully their orders arrive quickly and Jude impatiently blows on the first slice of her barbeque chicken pizza. Next to her Cardan is considering his slice of pepperoni and cheese covered crust, no doubt fascinated by its odd composition. He seems to enjoy it after his first bite though, once it was explained that the pepperoni was not, indeed, supposed to be plucked off and eaten separately and soon they are all done.

Jude heads to the washroom to pee and whilst she’s walking back she sees Cardan being approached by a slim girl with blue streaks in her hair. He is alone, Heather and Vivi having gone somewhere with Oak and Jude quickens her stride.

She is just within earshot to hear the girl’s voice say, “Aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?”

Jude’s eyes narrow as her husband smiles a sly grin and answers with an arrogant tilt of his head, “Rule the Kingdom of the Fae.”

He is being completely honest, after all he cannot tell a lie. But of course the girl does not know that and she looks confused and then lets out a giggle and lightly swats his arm, obviously thinking he is joking.

Jude has had enough of this and finally reaches her husband’s side and smiles at the girl, making sure that her ruby ring is on display as she takes Cardan’s arm. She immediately backs off, while Jude secretly pinches Cardan, hard, for messing with the girl.

“What was that about?”

“She asked a question. I answered it.” While his words were innocent, his grinning face gave away that he knew he’d been slightly wicked.

“Mhmm. You are incorrigible,” she rolls her eyes, finally letting her harsh grip on him go.

“You love it. Tell me Jude, did her question make you jealous?”

“Please, the females at court eye you on a daily basis back at home. It’s no surprise that they find you handsome here as well,” she responds truthfully. “I was more annoyed by your response. What happened to staying inconspicuous?”

He just smiles guiltily back at her. Shaking her head, she’s about to threaten him with a reduction of his beloved alcohol supply back home when she spots Vivi, Heather and Oak coming their way.

They spend the rest of the day at the mall in a similar fashion, introducing Cardan to the wonders of retail shopping and toy stores.  The day passes quickly and the exhausted party head home by early evening, satisfied with the day’s events.

A worn out Oak heads off to bed after extracting a promise from Jude that the two of them could play at the park alone together the next day.

It’s still too early for the adults to go to sleep and thanks to their sleeping in today they are all still wide awake.

“So, now that the little terror is asleep, what should we do?” Vivi questions, tucking a stray lock of her umber hair behind her furry pointed ears.

“Jude mentioned that there were places where mortals had night time revels, I should like to see them,” Cardan suggests.

Vivi trains her cat eyes on Jude, a feline smile on her face, “You told your husband about night clubs? Excellent. The High King of revelry in a mortal club is definitely something I need to see.”

The gleeful look in her eyes set Jude on edge. After all, she’s never been to one of these clubs herself, but surely they were not half as wild as Fae celebrations. How much trouble could Cardan get into?

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

Hey, so we've approached pick up line territory (yayy, finally) but the real intro happens in the next chapter. So stay tuned🦕

Also, please let me know if you’d like to be tagged for further installations of this fic :))

[dameronology]

rockstar {s.r x reader} - 1

summary: you and steve rogers are famous for two extremely different reasons - you’re a famous rockstar, and he’s a superhero. your main personality trait is sarcasm and he’s a squeaky clean super-soldier. it takes him exactly one night to fall in love with you. what could possibly go wrong?

this part one of my first series! enjoyyyyy

- val xx 

length: 2.4k 

warnings: swearing, implied smut, me not knowing anything at at all about 1940s records lol i’m so sorry

You were absolutely shit-faced the first time you met Steve Rogers.

It was a charity ball for...you couldn’t remember. You’d been guilt tripped by your publicist into attending. Something about improving your public image after trying to punch someone in a club the week before (in your defence, he’d tried to grab your ass). You’d put on your fancy leather jacket and a nice, black dress and smiled for a few pictures. You’d even made an effort to wear your less scuffed Doc Martens. That took effort. 

Steve spotted you from across the room almost immediately. He was sat on his own at the table, bored out of his sane mind. The sneaky bastards he’d come with - namely Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes - had both buggered off to the open bar. They’d sworn that they wouldn’t be long but his two best friends and free alcohol had never been a good combination.

You were sat three tables away; your thickly lined eyelids were hazed with tiredness and you had an unlit cigarette resting between your painted red lips. Your leather jacket was slung across your shoulders, but his immediate attention was drawn to the tangle of intricate drawings and illustrations that filled your arms. Your nails were decorated with chipped, black polish, and each finger had a different ring on it - all in a dark shade.

Steve knew who you were straight away. Your face was everywhere, all the time - if your face wasn’t on the TV, your band’s music was playing on the radio or in an advert. There was a lot of drums and guitars. He remembered reading somewhere that your group had saved modern rock and roll. It seemed like a big title to live up to - and he knew what that felt like.

You spotted him staring at you; cocking your head to the side and thinning your eyes with a curious gaze. ‘You got a lighter, Captain America?

Before Steve could respond, you stood up from your chair and sauntered towards him. Your thin dress fell around your legs as you rose, revealing more animated images on your skin. He could see them through the rips in your tights. Was it a fashion choice? It looked amazing either way. 

You took the empty seat next to him, placing the cigarette down. ‘Well?’

‘Uh,’ c’mon Rogers, use your words. ‘No, sorry. I don’t smoke.’

‘Yeah, me neither.’ Your scarlet lips twisted into something that might have resembled a smirk. 

You were shorter than he imagined in real life - not that it was something he gave much thought. It’s just - you were Y/N. Your musical talent and showmanship had been compared to that of Bowie or Mercury. It didn’t mean that you weren’t intimidating, because you certainly were. 

What was it that Sam had joked about? Big dick energy? He didn’t know what it was, but you definitely had it.

‘So, Mr America - tell me,’ You used the melting candle in the middle of the table to light the cigarette, taking a long draw, ‘do I have something in my teeth?’

‘No, definitely not, why’d you ask?’

‘- cause you've been staring at me for ten minutes.’

‘Right. That.’ Steve stared at the floor, trying to ignore the red creeping up his cheeks. ‘I just...you’re really beautiful.’

Dammit, Rogers, way to go! he heard himself scream internally, what kind of fool leads with that?

Your cool demeanour faltered for a split second - not long enough for anyone to notice. But Steve wasn’t anyone; he was staring at you intensely, examining every detail of your face. Because damn, you were fucking stunning. 

‘I haven’t heard that pick-up line,’ you quipped. ‘Why didn’t you come over and say hi? It’s rude to stare, 

You bit your lip, tugging at the thin metal ring that rested in the middle. It was the only piercing on your face; it was dainty, elegant. The gold stood out against the blood red you had painted your lips. The lips that he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of.

‘Are you meant to be smoking inside?’

‘No, probably not.’ You cocked your head to the side, giving him a cheeky wink. ‘What are they gonna do? Kick me out?’

‘They could.’

‘Then my plan will have worked perfectly.’ You leant across the table to stub it out, purposely moving closer towards him as you did.

Steve caught a whiff of your perfume; Chanel, of course. He watched as you took his drink out his hand, your cold fingers briefly brushing his. You finished the remains of his red wine with a singular gulp, placing the glass back down on the table.

‘Your glass is empty. We should get another drink.’

‘I like the sound of that.’ He stood up, extending his arm out to you.

You tugged your leather jacket over your shoulders and hooked your arm through his, leading him across the dance floor to the bar. You weren’t all dolled up like the rest of the women in your room. They were all equally gorgeous, but you had his full attention; almost hypnotic.

Steve spotted Sam and Bucky at the bar. They were both clutching a glass of something, and Sam almost did a double take when he saw you attached to his friend. He hadn’t seen you in person before but as Steve as observed, you were intimidatingly beautiful in a mysterious sort of way. 

‘Is that-’

‘- yup.’ Bucky could answer Sam’s question before he’d even fully asked it. 

‘With-’

‘- yep.’

'These your friends?’ You asked him, raising your brows at the two star-struck men before you.

‘Bucky, Sam, this is Y/N.’

‘We know-’

‘-big fans-’

‘ - the biggest.’

You chuckled, releasing your grip from Steve’s arm as you leant against the bar. Despite the large crowds of people, you managed to hail the attention of the server as though it were second nature. Something told Steve that you spent a lot of your time in establishments like this; probably filled with more leather-jacket wearing, cigarette-smoking people in the rock industry.

‘I’ll have a double vodka coke,’ you glanced at the empty glasses in the three men’s hands. ‘And refills of whatever these guys had.’

--

A few hours later, Steve had barely left your side. He wasn’t sure why you’d chosen to spend the evening with him of all people, but it wasn’t something he was going to question nor complain about. He was enchanted by you; entranced by your silky smooth voice and natural charm. 

‘It’s getting late,’ you said at one point. ‘Wanna dip?’

You were still stood by the drinks, meshed together somehow. Steve was sat on a bar stall; you were leaning against him with his arms around your front. He occasionally squeezed your sides whenever you said something that made him chuckle, and you miiiight have been resting your hands on top of his. He kept taking a second to remind himself that this was reality and you were choosing to show him physical affection.

He’d met confident women before. He was Captain America; the man was surrounded by them. But, there was something different about you. Perhaps it was the way you composed yourself, or the way you gave away just enough in conversation to keep him wanting more. If the night was going with you going your separate ways, he would be okay with that. This was more than he could have imagined when he spied you across the room four hours earlier.

‘Dip?’ Steve frowned. ‘God, I must seem so old.’

‘It means leave.’ You chuckled, twisting around to face him. ‘Urban Dictionary is your friend, Captain America.’

You hadn’t actually called him by his name the entire night. He noticed that it was always Captain America or Mr America - but, really, when it came from your mouth, he didn’t care what it was. 

‘Where were you thinking of going?’

‘My place is up the road. I have more alcohol there and a few old records you might like.’

‘I’m sold.’

You took Steve’s hand and lead him across the room, winking at Bucky and Sam as you passed. You both grabbed your jackets from the table you had ditched earlier, heading out the exit. You flashed a grin at the door-man as you passed, leaving the large building and into the streets.

It had been raining all night. The ground was wet and shining, reflecting the watercolour of city lights back up at you as you walked down the road. There was a slight nip in the air, and the post-rain city smell lingered in your nostrils. 

Petrol. Pizza. Piss. The smell of the New York that you loved so much.

‘Should I call a cab?’ Steve asked.

‘No need,’ you casually said, turning a corner into the parking lot of the ballroom. ‘You know how to ride a bike, right? I’ve had too much to drink.’

‘You have a - wow.’

The Harley Davidson that you were leaning against was almost as beautiful as you. He felt like he was dreaming - maybe he was. In his experience, people like you existed only in movies. 

‘It was a gift,’ you said, tossing the helmet at him. ‘The usual - share a picture of the bike to my Instagram followers and it’s mine.’

‘That’s a thing for you?’

‘It’s not a thing for you?’ You shot back. ‘I don’t know what superhero PR is like.’

‘I’d probably get free things if I joined Instagram,’ He reasoned, unclipping your helmet and placing it over your head.

He popped up the visor, grinning when he saw your face beaming back at him. He lifted you onto the back of the bike and took a seat in front of you, taking a minute to admire it. You obviously looked after it; the silver was shining and it was well oiled. He couldn’t say the same for his own bike. It had seen better days. 

‘I live on the corner of East 50th and 3rd.’ You said, dangling the key in front of him.

He took it from your hand, twisting it in the ignition. The engine roared to life, and you wrapped your arms around his back as the bike took off. It was a smooth ride - if not a little cold - but you got to your apartment building quickly. Steve was good at weaving in and out of traffic - not that there was much on the roads at 2am on a Tuesday morning. 

He parked the bike in the assigned spot in your garage; it was a fancy, underground affair below the high-rise apartment building. It was no surprise that you could afford such an extravagant place. There was a door-man who welcomed you, and a lift that took you right up to your flat. 

He wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, but the place was undeniably you. It had floor to ceiling windows and marble counters, but it felt homely. There was a large black chesterfield couch parked in the middle, piled high with fluffy pillows and blankets. A deep-purple Persian rug took up most the floor, housing a vast chestnut dining table. The entire place was crammed with trinkets; books and candles and magnets from all the places you’d toured. 

‘This place is beautiful,’ Steve commented, glancing at the record placards on the wall; gold, platinum and silver. 

‘And expensive,’ you replied. ‘Wine?’

You were holding a half-empty bottle of red; slightly less expensive that the stuff they’d been serving at the gala. Alcohol hardly had much of an affect on him anymore but Steve shrugged and nodded all the same, taking the glass as you handed it to him. 

You kicked off your boots and padded across the floor, dropping down onto the sofa. You patted the space next to you, moving a few pillows so that a seat was visible. 

‘Why did you invite me back?’ Steve found himself asking. ‘I mean, I’m not stupid but there’s not normally not this much talking-’

‘- I didn’t invite you here just to have my way with you, Captain America,’ You snorted. ‘It’s on the itinerary, but it’s not the only thing.’

You leant across to the coffee table, fumbling around a pile of magazines. A triumphant grin crossed your face when you produced some dusty old records; he immediately recognised them. He’d had the exact Frank Sinatra discs way back when. 

‘I got these at an old record store in London on my first tour.’ You explained. ‘They’re first editions, and they were just lazing around the bowels of Camden Market. Most people didn’t see what a big deal it was, but I figured you might.’

‘God, I haven’t seen these in ages,’ Steve chuckled, turning the vinyl sleeve around in his hands. 

You took the record from his hands, carrying it over to the old record player by your TV. Your vinyl collection was vast; it ranged from 1920s singers to stuff as recent as today. It was easy to find and source rare records when you had a big name. 

You put the vinyl in place, letting the needle fall onto the A-side. A few seconds later, a crackly sound began to flood the high walls of your apartment, filling the cold, empty air with a sound that Steve hadn’t heard in a long time. A feeling that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Were you even real? How could someone as beautiful as you, someone who owned the perfect bike and the perfect records, actually exist? Had someone spiked his drink? This might have been a hallucination.

‘You know, I said to myself earlier that this night was gonna suck,’ He said to you. ‘I was wrong.’

You chuckled, taking a step closer to him. ‘So wrong.’

‘Even if it ends here, I’m pretty happy.’

He took you in his arms, and in a move that surprised even himself, he grabbed you by the waist and pressed a kiss to your lips. It was something between a sweet kiss and a desperate kiss; the kind that steals the air from your lungs and takes a second to process. For the first time that evening, Steve was the leading one, the domineering one.

And, it was safe to say that the night did not end there.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

kiss me in the d-a-r-k .epilogue iv.

monday night

masterlist

Warnings: dub con sex (oral, intercourse)

This is dark!(dad)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader has a late night.

Note: #ficdaddy #afterworkwriting #naughtythoughts #whatamidoing? Okay, so here’s more but might be a little break til the next because I’m exhausted and I’m thirsty but ya girl is also a disaster. Thanks everyone for your support and indulgence in my #pornfic lol🔥🔥🔥 I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply!

...

By the time you got off the subway, your fatigue had washed away your shock. The whole ride home, you felt him. Felt the afterglow slake away and the ghost of his touch. You swore it was a dream. A very vivid fantasy but you just wouldn't wake up.

You walked the block from the stop to your building with your hands tucked deep in your pockets. The city was overdue for snow. You shivered as your boots scuffed the pavement and you stopped dead just in front of the steps. There was a familiar car across the street. A rover, to be exact.

The horn tooted as your eye narrowed on the tinted window and the door opened. Steve stepped out and waved as he looked both ways down the street. You winced and tried to hide your anxiety. You were a terrible liar, worse with him. He saw through you like a window.

What was even doing here? You’d told him you were busy. How long had he been waiting? You sighed and dropped your shoulders.

“Hey,” You greeted him stiffly. “What are you doing here?”

“Couldn’t help myself,” He reached out with a gloved hand and rubbed your arm. The gesture reminded you of Bucky. You gulped. “Tell me you’re not planning on turning in already?”

“I was planning on cramming for my exam,” You countered. “Not much sleep to be had these days.”

“I can help,” He smirked, “Keep you on task.”

“Really?” You challenged with a scoff. “I think I’m better off alone.”

“I swear,” His breath clouded in the frigid evening. “Come on, you can’t leave me out in the cold.”

“You really wanna hang around and watch me study?” You asked.

“Help,” He corrected you. “Come on, years of helping with homework has prepped me for this very night.”

“Alright, if only to get out of the cold.” You relented and dug for your keys. “I hope you don’t mind clutter. My apartment is...small.”

You led him to the front door. He was close enough that his warmth radiated over you. He climbed the stairs after you and you were out of breath by the time you got to your floor. He wasn’t. How pathetic you were. After a struggle with the janky lock, your door jolted inward and you welcomed him into your college nest.

“I know you don’t like coffee, but I can make you a tea?” You set down your bag as he closed your door. “I, uh, just toss my coat on that chair.” You laughed at yourself as you unbuttoned your jacket. 

“You know what, I could use a coffee,” He removed his coat and folded it over the patched armchair. 

You placed your jacket on his and pulled your boots off. “I was just gonna have some leftover pizza. Want a slice?”

“As gracious a host as you are a guest,” He looked around the small space. “Make your coffee. Get your books out. Tell me what you want. I’ll order in.”

“You really don’t have--”

“Ah,” He raised a hand as he pulled out his phone. “You have studying to do. Let me worry about dinner.”

You agreed with a nod and went about setting up the coffee to brew and dumped your text and notebook on the bed. Steve went through the options and you settled on Chinese as you poured milk into your mug and set it on the table beside your bed. You sat at the top of the mattress and opened your textbook.

He ordered and sat across from you. He pulled your notebook over and flipped it open. “What course is this?”

“Public discourse and Social Trends. Third tab.” You instructed and squinted at him. “What are you doing?”

“Helping,” He folded the notebook back and his eyes glossed across your writing. “Put that down. Quick review. Then you’ll know what you need to work on.”

You tilted your head and pursed your lips at him. “You should be in your hotel, enjoying the view, or the pay-per-views, or the minibar. You shouldn’t be in this hole helping me revise all this...garbage.”

“I am right where I want to be, sweetie,” He intoned. “Now stop stalling.”

-

It was just past midnight. You’d gone through all your notes and the cartons of fried noodles and sweet and sour chicken. Two cups of coffee as well. You sat with legs crossed as Steve reclined across the bed and closed your notebook. He yawned and tossed it atop your textbook. You leaned back on your pillows, his yawn was contagious.

“Alright, you’re free.” You said. “I feel...better.”

“Better? You got this.” He replied.

“I hope.” You muttered.

“Ugh, haven’t had a night like this since...since me and Bucky were in college.” He grinned. “Did you know we went to the same uni? I was in business, he was in Lit. That was his first degree, my last. He always was a do-gooder.”

You nodded. You picked at the corner of your textbook and kept your eyes to the bedspread. You could feel him staring at you. Shyly, you glanced up as the heat grew unbearable. “What?”

“I meant what I said...about Bucky.” He lifted a brow. “Would do him well to loosen up. You too.”

You swallowed and clenched your jaw. You chewed your lip, unsure how to divert the conversation. “I don’t…”

“Wait,” He sat up and the mattress shook beneath him. “You...already did it?” You looked at him, “That was your appointment?”

“Steve, I--”

“Oh, sweetie, that’s...wow. You see, you should enjoy yourself.” He reached over and squeezed your knee. His hand lingered. “Explore.”

“I wasn’t thinking. It happened so fast. I-I-I…” You huffed and hung your head. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t do that.” His hand crawled up your thigh as he moved closer. He pushed your books aside and sat next to you. “I’m proud, sweetie.”

“Proud?” You said confused. “For fucking my professor.”

“For being you.” He leaned in. “Tell me,” He kissed you and wrapped his arm around you as he pulled you close. “How did you do it? Were you on top? Was he?”

“Steve,” You warned and tried to wriggle away. “Really.”

“I wanna hear,” He purred. “Come on, tell me.”

You licked your lips and thought. You shook your head at your helplessness. You knew he wouldn’t let up. 

“We were in his office,” You started quietly. “I...kissed him.” You cringed as you recounted the scene. “I shouldn’t have but...uh, he kissed me back...Steve, I can’t…”

“Go on. You’re doing fine,” He urged as his fingers traced the line of your vee. 

“I was on the desk first and he...used his fingers.”

“Did you cum?” He rubbed just along the top of your thigh.

“Yes,” Your voice was raspy as your lip trembled. “Then he turned me around and--” Your lips moved but no words would come.

“He fucked you against his desk? Oh, Professor Barnes,” He mused as he picked your fly open. “How unprofessional.”

“I…”

“Did you cum again? While he was in you?” He asked. You nodded as he slipped his fingers beneath your jeans. “No panties?”

You closed your eyes as his fingers hovered just above your clit. “He came in them. I had too take them off.”

“Fuck,” He breathed. “That’s fucking hot.”

“It’s...I could lose my scholarship...he could lose his job.” You gasped as he flicked his fingertip over your bud.

“He has tenure and who’s gonna know? I’m not telling anyone,” He pressed his lips to your cheeks and rubbed you with his finger. Slow, tantalizing; enough that your thighs began to tingle. “It was nice, wasn’t it? The rush? Up in his office like that?”

“Y-y-yes.” You confessed.

“Like the summer? Kylie just down the hall...asleep. We could’ve been caught so easily,” The glimmer of guilt at the reminder was muted by the lurid thrill. “Oh, sweetie, you’re so wet already. Is it for me or him?”

You bit your lip and breathed through your nose. You shook your head. He stopped and you looked to him sharply.

“Tell me.” He demanded. 

“Y-y-you…” You blurted out. “...and him.”

“Tell me what else you want him to do? How do you want him to fuck you?” He tickled your cheek with his nose as he inhaled your scent.

His finger began to moved again and your eyes threatened to roll back. Your thoughts blurred together and the last of your willpower drifted away. Your lip quivered and your voice rose in gasps.

“I want his mouth on me. To feel his beard against my thighs.” You grabbed his wrist as the sparks flew and bounced around your core. “To drink me up until I cum.” Your voice thinned. “I want him to push my legs up and fuck me until I scream. I want him to be rough with me. To not stop even when I beg--” Your breath caught as the coil wound tight. “--when I beg him to--STOP!”

You slipped from his embrace and pushed yourself back against the pillows. Your thighs squeezed his hand and as you lifted your pelvis and came loudly. You shook as you dove over the edge and plummeted to the depths with a shout. Your hand rested on his as he stilled his fingers.

“Can I fuck you, sweetie? Like that?” He slowly pulled his hand from your jeans.

You nodded frantically and caught his hand. “Please,” You panted. “I want you. Not him. I want you right now, Steve.”

He smirked and bent over you to kiss you. He drew his hand away from yours and as he sat back he ran his fingers along your lips. You opened them and he shoved them inside. You tasted yourself on him and sucked on them with a hum. His eyes darkened at your reaction.

“Anything you want, sweetie.” 

He pulled his fingers away and climbed off the bed. His pants were tented with his arousal. You shoved your jeans down your legs and your socks caught in the bottom as you tore them off. You took your sweater off next and unhooked your ratty bra. You really needed a new one. You looked over as he rolled his briefs down his thighs. You liked to think none of the guys your age looked as good.

“Lay down,” He pointed to the pillow. “And don’t you move.” You laid back and he got back on the bed. “Bend your legs. Yeah, like that, now, apart. Very good.” He knelt between them and his eyes shone down at your pussy. “God, you look just as good as you taste, sweetie.

He bent and he slowly ran his tongue over your clit and along your folds. You gasped and reached down to touch his greying locks. He shoved your hand away and growled. You kept your hands on your chest, cupped your tits as you watched the top of his head, His tongue flitted up and down, each time faster, and he swirled around your bud so that your hips bucked.

You began to mewl. You sounded animalistic. Your legs closed around his head and his hands spread across the back of your thighs. He pushed your legs up until your knees were almost to your chest. He kneaded the flesh and purred as he lapped you up. You arched your back as he plucked at your deepest strings.

“S-Steveee.” You came with a drawn out moan. His name floated above you and he tended to you until you were breathless.

Slowly he lifted his head. You looked down at him as he deliberately licked his lips. He kept hold of your thighs as he got to his knees and positioned himself against you. His cock slid between your folds and along your clit. You shivered and reached out to him.

“Ah, keep those hands to yourself, sweetie,” He tilted his hips back until his cock poked at your entrance. 

His eyes fell between your legs and he watched as he impaled you an inch at a time. He pushed his shoulders back and sighed as he reached his limit. Your walls clung to him; longed for him. He pushed your legs until your knees were against your chest entirely. He rocked into you once and you squealed.

He did it again. A similar reaction. He thrust, each time waiting for your response. You got louder and louder as he sped up. Delving deeper and harder. His flesh clapped against yours between your cries and a bang came at the wall, warning you to quiet. But you couldn’t.

You stretched your arms out and grasped at the blanket. He snarled as he pounded into you. He had never been like this. Always decisive, but never rough. Never this carnal. This incensed. You bunched the bedspread in your fingers and keened as another orgasm tore through you.

You quaked as he didn’t waver. He had you pinned to the mattress, helpless. Not that you could’ve have pushed him away if you wanted to. His thick muscles bulged beneath his skin as he thrust into you. He didn’t fuck like an old man. At least, you assumed most men his age weren’t so ferocious.

It wasn’t long before you came again. The banging on the wall stopped. They’d given up. He had your ass off the bed, your back curled as he pounded into you. He found your clit and teased you as he drew forth yet another orgasm. You were dazed.

“Steve...Steve...please, no more, I c-can’t.” He slammed into you and chuckled.

Your words turned to murmurs. Pure gibberish as he ignored you and carried on. He grunted and his motioned stuttered. He bared his teeth and growled as he pulled out. He kept hold of one leg as he stroked himself with the other. He came all over you, the warmth seeped between your folds and along your ass.

Slowly he sat back and let your legs splay around him. You were both out of breath. You felt around blindly, felt his cum all over you as you spread it around.

He climbed over your leg and fell down beside you, out of breath. He smiled and closed his eyes as he caught his breath. You rubbed your forehead as your wits reassembled. What a long day. Both of them in less than. How had you gotten tied up in all this?

“Steve,” You ventured and he opened his eyes.

“Yes, sweetie,” He turned his head to look at you.

“Why are we doing this?” You asked weakly.

“I…” He clamped his lips shut and thought. “Well, I’ve done the right thing; got married, had a family, white picket fence. It’s boring. Fake. I don’t want fake. You get to my age and you realize there really isn’t any harm in doing what you want instead of what others expect of you.”

“Oh,” You considered his words carefully. “Have you done this before?”

“What do you mean? Have I fucked any of Kylie’s other friends? Of course not. Never even fucked anyone more than a couple years younger than me. Didn’t have the time, or the energy.”

You nodded and stared at the ceiling. Afraid to ask your next question. “Why me?”

“I...At first, I just thought you were cute. I don’t know what made me kiss you in that hot tub, or why I even invited you, but I knew that night, I needed you.” He traced circles along your stomach. “And you needed me. To show you before it’s too late that it’s okay to be more than cookie cutter.”

His words reeled in your head. You were surprised; that you asked; even more that he answered. And he sounded honest. And if he wasn’t being earnest, you’d learn another lesson from all this. 

All you could do was enjoy it while it lasted.

[lady-divine-writes]

A Change in the Weather AU (inspired by Cacophonylights's A Change in the Weather) - Chapter 32

Read on AO3.

Warning for mention of past sexual assault.

It’s around ten in the morning when Sebastian and Kurt wake in their tent out on the porch, rattled to consciousness by Sebastian’s ringer slicing through the lull of the still pouring rain. Kurt hears Sebastian groan, hears him curse at it, mumbling something about not answering it out of spite and wouldn’t that show it who’s boss? Kurt chuckles at his boyfriend’s sleep-deprived ridiculousness, but Sebastian has no one to blame for this oversight but himself. Kurt had left his phone in the bedroom before they’d retired to the porch for this very reason.

He didn’t want to be disturbed.

They’re both dog tired. More than that. Whatever animal dogs use as a metaphor when they get tired, that’s what Kurt and Sebastian are.

It’s comfy in their tent out on the porch. Too comfy to deal with things like phone calls when Kurt and Sebastian are lying next to one another, asleep in each other’s arms. Kurt feels Sebastian stir, mumbling again about how he’s willing to punch his phone to fucking pieces if it doesn’t knock it off, then settle back into their cozy cocoon.

“You could just shut it off, you know,” Kurt reminds him, giggling when he feels Sebastian’s breathing hitch.

“Yeah, all right,” he says without owning up to his mistake. He reaches underneath his pillow to get it, but before his fingers touch it, it obligingly stops ringing. “There you go then. I guess that’s that.”

“Who was it?” Kurt asks, completely unaware of anything outside Sebastian’s tirade with his eyes closed.

“Don’t know, don’t care. They’re gone. That’s all that matters.”

“Sounds good to me,” Kurt says, surrendering to the hug that envelopes him from behind. Sebastian’s soft snores fill the tent again, and Kurt takes that as his cue to go back to sleep, the patter of the rain on the outside skin of the tent a powerful sedative.

But right as Kurt gets ready to re-visit his fantasy from last night in the darkness behind his eyelids, Sebastian’s phone rings again, dragging them both further into consciousness.

“Argh! What do you want?” Sebastian whines. Kurt rolls to his opposite side in their sleeping bag as Sebastian proceeds to verbally berate his phone. Kurt is reluctant to do anything that qualifies as moving, but he so wants a front seat to this temper tantrum. If he’s going to have his sleep repeatedly interrupted, he wants to be entertained.

And besides, if Sebastian had turned off his phone, they wouldn’t be having this issue.

Again, the phone stops ringing, but it starts immediately up, and Sebastian fishes it out without stalling this time to put an end to its reign of terror. “Ugh. Too bright,” he murmurs, squinting at the screen. But something he sees stops him from shutting his phone down. “Wait a minute …”

“What?”

“It’s Liv.” Sebastian stares harder, making sure. “Pfft. Her timing is impeccable.”

“Shouldn’t she be here?” Kurt asks. “She didn’t mention having any plans for the morning.”

“I don’t happen to have her social calendar memorized, but mumsy and dadums probably took her and Brian out to brunch. If Julian went with them, you know what that means …” Sebastian bites his lower lip suggestively, growls for good measure.

“Pizza for breakfast?” Kurt teases.

“No …” Sebastian says. “You … on the living room couch. This way you won’t be able to even look at a couch cushion without getting a hard on.”

“Kinky,” Kurt says, his heart fluttering at hummingbird speeds from the smile Sebastian flashes him, broadcasting his intentions on devouring him whole. Still, Kurt can’t help thinking Sebastian looks more than a little nervous. That thought doesn’t dim as Sebastian answers his phone.

“Hello, Olivia!” Kurt yells before Sebastian gets the chance.

“Hello, sister dear,” Sebastian says, voice dripping venom. But Olivia doesn’t rise to the challenge.

“Hey,” she says in a guarded tone. “How’s it going? Did you guys have fun last night?”

“We did,” Kurt answers for his yawning boyfriend. He rests his head against Sebastian’s chest, their tent so quiet despite the rain, he’s able to hear Olivia even though his ear is nowhere near the phone. “Very much.”

“That’s good. I’m glad,” she says. She sounds happy for them, but also distracted. “Have you guys seen Julian by any chance?”

“No. We’re not even awake yet,” Sebastian replies. “We are currently enjoying the sleep in and cuddle phase of being on vacation!”

“So no phone calls or anything?” Olivia reiterates without any of her usual teasing, her syrupy swooning over how sweet the two of them are together. “No texts?”

The scowl drifts from Sebastian’s face at the concern in his sister’s voice, the urgency behind her questions. “No, Liv. Nothing. Why?”

“We can’t find him.”

“Is that all?” Sebastian relaxes, but not enough to erase the worry lines from around his eyes. “He’s just bummed out over Cooper. He’ll turn up. He always does. It’s only … fuck …” Sebastian exclaims when he glances at his phone screen “… ten in the morning!”

“Seb,” Liv says firmly, trying to make her younger brother hear her, “he left early. He didn’t tell us where he was headed, but he was in such a hurry, I thought Cooper had arrived. I thought … I thought things were finally going to work out for him. But he hasn’t checked in, and we’ve been calling him for hours.”

“Julian’s not really a check in sort of person,” Sebastian points out. “Never has been. But maybe Cooper did come through and they’re at a hotel. You know Julian …”

“His phone has stopped going to voicemail,” she interrupts, nearing her wit’s end. There’s a knot between Olivia’s words, an unlevel platform struggling to keep her voice steady enough for her to tell them the rest. But she doesn’t have to. Kurt feels Sebastian’s chest tighten beneath his cheek and he just knows. It’s contagious, Kurt’s chest tightening shortly after. “He’s gone, Sebastian. He’s just … gone.”

“Where are you now?” Sebastian asks.

“We’re out looking for him. Brian and I are still local but Mom and Dad are heading farther north.”

“Don’t worry.” Sebastian throws off the covers, mouthing the words I’m sorry to Kurt when a sudden block of cold air hits them both like an anvil and Kurt’s teeth chatter. “Kurt and I are going to head out in a few minutes and help. We’ll find him, Liv.”

“Do you have any idea where he might be?”

“I have a hunch.” A pained expression colors his tired face, but it disappears quickly. “Let us go. I’ll text you in about thirty, let you know our game plan.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” she says, a bit more relaxed than when she first called.

“Awww, are you worried about me, sis?” Sebastian coos.

“Well … I’m worried about Kurt mainly. But sure - you, too.”

Sebastian retaliates with a rude noise. Olivia laughs conservatively, and things feel closer to rectified. “Thanks a lump.”

“Bearing that in mind, maybe Brian and I should swing by and pick him up …”

“Goodbye, Liv,” Sebastian sings, disconnecting the call. He stares at the screen, or at his reflection in it - Kurt can’t tell. But he knows Sebastian is thinking.

“What’s up?” Kurt asks when Sebastian starts swiping through his call log.

“I’m checking to see if Julian did try to contact us this morning, but we were too dead asleep to wake up.”

“Unlikely seeing as Olivia’s calls woke us up.”

“Yeah, well, it took her five tries,” Sebastian says, showing Kurt his screen.

“Wow.”

“I know. My mom and dad tried nine and we missed them, too.” Kurt watches Sebastian’s eyes scan the numbers on his screen. When he reaches the end, he scrolls back to the beginning and checks again. “Crap! There’s nothing.”

Sebastian and Kurt recline together in the silence, Kurt staring at Sebastian, unsure what they’re supposed to do next; Sebastian looking Kurt over appraisingly, a hundred and one thoughts at work behind his eyes.

“What?” Kurt asks, unable to take Sebastian’s silence any longer, his pensive stare that prickles Kurt’s skin and not in a good way, not when he feels like they should be doing something! “Do I have something on my face?”

Kurt can tell by the way the right corner of Sebastian’s mouth quirks that he has a comeback for that one, but he doesn’t let it out. “I may have a way to find him, but you have to swear you won’t tell anyone!”

“You don’t trust me!?” Kurt gasps since that’s the absolute last thing he’d expected Sebastian to say at this stage of their relationship, fledgling or not.

“Lawful good, babe. Remember?” Sebastian replies like that explains everything. “Plus I know you. If you think we’re in over our heads, you’ll call in reinforcements whether I want you to or not. And I need you to trust me on this one, okay?”

“Hypocrite much?” Kurt mutters.

“I need you to trust me,” Sebastian repeats, sounding as urgent as Olivia did doing her darndest to get through her brother’s thick skull, “and do what I’m asking without question, just this once.”

“Sebastian! I’m not going to tell on you! Your brother’s in trouble! I’m going to do anything in my power to help you out!”

Sebastian blinks at Kurt, doesn’t seem relieved by his response. His brows draw together, an unamused look brewing in his eyes. “Mmm … hmmph …” he says, going back to his phone, not at all thrilled by Kurt’s enthusiasm. Kurt rolls his eyes because he can’t with his boyfriend, acting jealous at a time like this!

Sebastian holds his phone like a poker hand, close to his chest, but bit by bit, he loosens his posture as he navigates a website Kurt has never seen before. He doesn’t want to peek, doesn’t want to invade his or his brother’s privacy, but the bizarrely high-tech looking page has Kurt curious beyond belief.

“Okay, I have to ask,” he says, breaking down. “What is that? What are you doing?”

Sebastian gives him a look, still thoroughly unamused, but his apparent need to talk through this with someone wins out in the end. “Julian has two phones. Has for a while now. He has the one our folks set up for him with the number he’s had forever, and one he bought for himself. I’m the only one in our family who knows about it. Only two people have that number including me. Anyway, both of his phones have a GPS tracking function, but he tends to turn it off on his main phone.”

“But not on the second one?”

“It’s a safety net. In case he gets himself into any real shit, at least I can find him.” Kurt watches Sebastian flip through screens, eyes following his finger as he scrolls. What starts as a blank, inscrutable expression swiftly becomes a frown. “Of course, I don’t actually trust him as far as I can throw him, so I downloaded an app called Spyine.” Sebastian smirks. “It’s one of those apps that jealous husbands use to keep tabs on their wives.”

“Well …” Kurt’s face pinches with disgust “… isn’t that morally ambiguous.”

Sebastian flips to a new screen with a map displayed and sighs. “This isn’t good.”

Kurt moves up Sebastian’s chest to see better, no longer concerned with invading privacy considering the site Sebastian is using. “What isn’t?”

“According to this, his phone is either not on, or …” Sebastian swipes back, again double checking.

Kurt gnaws on his inner cheek, wracked by the suspense. He’s beginning to feel like he’s been dropped in the middle of a Tom Clancy novel. “Or …?”

“Or he’s nowhere nearby.” Sebastian makes it sound so simple, but from the way his eyes cloud over, Kurt knows it’s not.

“Like … nowhere near the beach house?”

Sebastian shakes his head but he doesn’t explain. Kurt’s stomach flips. He feels out of his depth and completely useless. He wants to help Julian, but he has no idea where to start. He knows nothing about the technology Sebastian is using. He’s barely aware of the fact that his own phone has a GPS tracking system. As it is, he has no idea whether it’s switched on or not. He thought they’d be able to find Julian regardless using cell phone towers and pinging signals, but that’s because the only information he has on the subject comes from watching Law and Order. “What’s the reach on that thing?”

“I don’t know exactly. Far? I’ve only had to use it once, but that time, he was only a couple of miles away.” Sebastian’s head snaps up, a hint of Eureka! in his eyes. He slaps a palm to his forehead. Kurt jumps at the smack! the contact makes. It sounds like it hurt. “Shit! I have a feeling … fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! I know where he’s heading!”

“Where!?”

Sebastian blows out a breath. It’s the most annoyed, frustrated, worried, anxious sound Kurt has ever heard come out of another human being, and Kurt knows, he just knows that the next words out of Sebastian’s mouth are going to open a Pandora’s box. “Westerville.” Sebastian puts both hands over his face, laughs maniacally into his palms. “Fancy a drive? I swear we’ll come back.”

“Yes.” Kurt sits up, moving aside so Sebastian can get ready. “Of course. Whatever we have to do.”

“Great,” Sebastian says, although he sounds more put out than relieved. Kurt can’t help wondering if this is a pattern for them - one of their many complicated tangos. Julian had mentioned that Sebastian has an inner mom complex. Does that extend to more than damages to home and property? Is this a habit - Julian messes up and Sebastian goes after him? What else would necessitate Sebastian downloading some super spy app onto his phone?

“We should text your parents, right?” Kurt follows Sebastian to the tent door, carrying the sinking suspicion with him that they’re not. “Let them know what’s going on?” Sebastian stops Kurt before he unzips the rain flap. He drapes a blanket over Kurt’s head and shoulders, then puts an arm around him to keep him from getting too too wet.

“Not quite yet,” Sebastian says, hurrying them the short distance across the porch to the door.

“It’s going to be a twelve hour drive! What are they going to think when we don’t come back? You have to tell them something!”

“I will tell them something!” Sebastian throws the door open and ushers Kurt inside. “I just … I need to figure out what that something is first.”

***

Sebastian doesn’t pack any of his belongings, but Kurt does. He doesn’t take everything he brought with him when they leave. After all, they plan on coming back. But he does grab a few things - a couple of shirts and some shorts he’s sick of wearing. He’d already mentioned to Sebastian wanting to stop by his house to say what’s up to his dad and tell him the good news about the check. Kurt didn’t feel right telling his father over the phone, but he wants to get it out of the way as soon as possible so that his dad won’t waste time worrying. Kurt isn’t exactly sure how much he intends on telling his dad, though he should probably consider telling him the whole truth eventually.

If Charlotte knows, Greg will, too, sooner or later. It’ll get back to his dad one way or the other.

Kurt wants his dad to hear it from him.

While they’re in Ohio, Kurt plans on depositing the check into his account (he’s been trying to do it via mobile but, again, his frickin’ phone …) and bam! One less thing to worry about.

Sebastian leaves his folks and Olivia a note letting them know that he and Kurt will be out for the afternoon and well into the evening, running down some of Julian’s hangouts. It’s not exactly a lie. In fact, it’s enough of a not lie that it’s nearly the truth. Never once does Sebastian mention in his note that any of those spots are in North Carolina so technically not a lie.

Kurt is frightened at how quickly that conclusion is to come to, and how okay he is with it.

Kurt expects Sebastian to text his parents and come clean after their first rest stop. When that doesn’t happen, he hinges his hopes on the second, which they take two hours later. But Sebastian doesn’t text them then, either. He doesn’t look at his phone at all once they hit the highway. He just drives, with so much determination, it concerns Kurt. What will happen if they show up at wherever it is they’re going and Julian isn’t there? What do they do then?

Kurt considers texting Liv on the sly to tell her that they’re okay and that they have a lead. But if he does, that would mean Sebastian is right.

Kurt is a lawful good. And that’s not necessarily a good thing.

But worst of all, it would mean Sebastian can’t trust him.

So he turns his phone off and puts it in his pocket to avoid temptation.

Half way to Ohio, they stop for a bite, and to sit down somewhere that isn’t a car. But they eat so fast, so anxious to get back on the road, Kurt barely tastes his sandwich. When they settle back into Sebastian’s Mustang with a canvas bag full of road snacks, the engine is barely cool to the touch. Sebastian merges onto the highway, hops lanes until they hit the far left, and that’s where they stay, cruising at a hair above eighty for the remainder of the way.

Kurt watches Sebastian drive for awhile, but Sebastian’s eyes don’t leave the road. He either doesn’t notice, or he’s so used to Kurt watching him, it doesn’t faze him. Kurt feels like he should say something, reassure Sebastian that they’ll find his brother, but Sebastian knows that better than Kurt does. Kurt doesn’t even know where in Westerville they’re headed. The Smythe estate? But then why didn’t Sebastian just say they’re going home? Dalton? Also a possibility, but then why not mention it?

Kurt hates waiting, but he’ll have to and see.

Kurt is tired of questions that have no answers, but he doesn’t want to pressure Sebastian for any. And since staring him down while they’re trapped inside a vehicle together might be seen as pressuring, he shifts his attention out the window to the cars driving beside them, at the trees and the grass, the gorgeous ocean they’re leaving behind.

Saying goodbye to that ocean prematurely will be one of Kurt’s biggest regrets about this adventure.

But it won’t be his only one.

***

Kurt wakes to a shrill metallic beeping spitballing through his brain. It unnerves the hell out of him since he didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep. They’d been traveling in silence, the radio on low, tuned in to a classical music station Sebastian chose. Kurt didn’t rest his head, didn’t close his eyes.

He’d blinked, and hours had flown by.

It’s night when Kurt opens them again.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Sebastian says when he hears Kurt stir. “I raised the volume on my phone in case I got a signal.”

“And?” Kurt inquires around a yawn.

“I think I’ve found him.”

“What time is it?” Kurt asks, starting conversation to ease the tension. He could check the time for himself. It’s right there on the dash.

If Sebastian isn’t too worried about Julian’s well-being, if things aren’t as serious as Kurt is beginning to fear they are, Sebastian will tease him about that.

But he doesn’t.

“Around nine,” Sebastian says. “We made really good time.”

Kurt sighs, that tight feeling in his chest becoming tighter with every mile marker they pass. “Sounds like it.”

A web of apprehension weaves its way around them both. Too much has been left in the air and it’s piling up. Kurt doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he does remember the phone calls Sebastian let go to voicemail, the text messages he didn’t pull over to read. They kept coming and coming, and Sebastian ignored them until they stopped.

Does Sebastian have the GPS tracking on his phone turned on? Are they in danger of the entire Smythe clan following them? Kurt doesn’t ask. He doesn’t want to add to Sebastian’s stress, even if his own brain is about to melt from it.

Sebastian pulls into the small side lot of a place called The Draft Room. It’s not as big as the club in Columbus, but it’s a step up from Scandals. He parks in the first empty spot, turns off the car, and sits, staring at the brick wall in front of them. Kurt scans the lot in search of Julian’s Jag, but he doesn’t see it.

That doesn’t mean Julian isn’t there.

“Are you all right?” Kurt asks, reaching out a hand to caress Sebastian’s shoulder.

“Yes?” Sebastian says, but it’s another question, not an answer. “I … kind of don’t want to do this.”

“Do you want me to go? I can look around, see if he’s there, text you if he is.”

“No,” Sebastian says, overlooking the opportunity Kurt hands him to poke fun at his menace of a cell phone. That’s two for two. “No, it’d be best if we both went. Just … stay with me? Please?” Sebastian sounds so small when he asks. So timid.

So not like Sebastian.

Kurt takes his hand. He threads their fingers together, smiling as confidently as he can with his heart trying to tear out of his chest. “Always.”

***

The place is nowhere near crowded, so even if he wasn’t wearing the tightest jeans imaginable or a leather jacket that costs about as much as Kurt’s SUV, Julian is easy to spot from the front door, sitting at a stool dead center of the bar with no one else around, as if he wants to be easy to see.

Easy to find.

Sebastian walks through the front door as if he’s pushing himself from behind to make himself go. He slides up to Julian, bumps him with his hip, and slaps a hand on his shoulder. Julian jerks in his stool and looks up at him, smile vibrant, but when his eyes lock on to Sebastian’s, when he sees his brother there next to him, his smile falls.

“Hey, baby brother,” he says, knocking on the bar and signaling the bartender. The man steps up, filling Julian’s empty shot glass with whiskey.

“Hey, Jules,” Sebastian says. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Ain’t it just?”

“You know, they have bars in North Carolina ...” Sebastian stares at Julian’s glass. Kurt doesn’t know whether he’s contemplating cutting Julian off, or knocking it back himself.

“True. But I didn’t come to Westerville to drink. I just sort of … ended up here.” Julian grabs the glass as if he knows it’s in danger, drinking down the whiskey in one gulp.

“I can see that,” Sebastian says with more sympathy than Kurt expected considering their impromptu, all-day drive. “How deep in are you?”

“Uh … I don’t know.” Julian picks up his empty shot glass and gazes into it, as if it holds the answer. “Two beers and two shots?” He wiggles the glass Sebastian’s way. “Wanna catch up?”

“No thanks. How long have you been here?”

“A few hours. Figures you’d be the one to find me.”

Sebastian shrugs. “I had help.”

Sebastian is referring to his phone, which he holds up as a visual. But Julian spots Kurt standing behind him, watching over his shoulder, and what remains of Julian’s grin - the miniscule shadow of it - dissolves.

“I didn’t give him an ultimatum,” Julian says, speaking straight to Kurt now, another human who understands the woes of falling in love with an Anderson brother. “I said that maybe inviting him to the beach house was going too far too fast. That maybe he felt like I was putting him on the spot. I told him that I would meet him half way. When I didn’t hear from him, I told him I was willing to meet him all the way …” Another shot appears, then disappears down Julian’s throat. “But he’s not coming. I know he’s not coming. I was an idiot to think he was, to think that everything was finally going to work out for us.”

“Maybe he’s just …” Kurt tries, but Julian shakes his head.

“I’ve looked for him everywhere. Called every number I ever had for him. Some of them have been disconnected for years, but I called them anyway. I even called the house.” Julian’s cheeks flush red, as if of all the things he’s done, this is the one he didn’t want to admit to. “Emily says he just … he just left. He didn’t pack a bag, didn’t tell anyone where he was going. Just pfft. Gone. I don’t know who got to him, but they got to him good.”

“I'm ... I’m so sorry,” Kurt says, his heart sinking when the light that always lingers in Julian's eyes, the one that blazes hot behind the ice blue of his irises, starts to burn low, threatening to go out.

“So many secrets …” Julian looks down at his phone clutched in his hand as if at any moment it might spring to life with a call or a text. “We’re so good at keeping secrets, aren’t we, Sebby?”

He pauses, and Kurt feels Sebastian go rigid beside him.

“Julian …”

Kurt has heard Sebastian say his brother’s name dozens of times, and in as many different ways.

He’s said it jokingly.

He’s said it seriously.

He’s spat it like a curse.

He’s said it with affection.

But this was a plea.

He was begging Julian to stop.

“We keep secrets from mom and dad," Julian continues to himself as if they aren't there, which means Sebastian’s pleas can’t reach him. "Secrets from Liv. Hell, the two of you kept the biggest secret of all. You even had me duped, though, apparently that isn't as hard as I thought.”

Julian laughs, dry and hollow, until it becomes a cough.

“Julian …” Sebastian repeats his plea softer, subconsciously searching for and taking Kurt's hand. He squeezes it tight, and Kurt can't help noticing how it shakes.

Julian shoots his brother a smirk, lifting a newly-filled shot glass in his fist in an unspoken toast and downing it in a single throw. He slams it down on the bar, the glass bottom hitting the wood with a poignant thunk.

“Now why haven’t you told him yet, Sebby?” he asks, mockingly upbeat the way depressed drunks sound when the liquor finally hits. This Julian is such a departure from the one Kurt normally sees – the suave and sophisticated sexy man whose every word speaks to Kurt’s artistic soul – that he might as well be a complete stranger. Someone who looks so much like Julian that from a distance on a cloudy day he could be mistaken for him, but turns out to not be him.

This transformation frightens Kurt, but Sebastian’s reaction to it concerns him more.

Sebastian squeezes Kurt’s hand a little too hard, arriving at a conclusion that Kurt doesn’t even realize exists.

“Tell me … tell me what?” Kurt asks Julian, then Sebastian. He would much rather hear it from Sebastian, but Julian gets to him first.

“Why it is that Sebastian went away,” Julian replies, talking to the wood grain in the bar, the bottom of his glass, everything but them. “You know it wasn’t your fault, Sebby. At least, if you tell him, he’ll know exactly how much of a bastard I really am, and you’ll never have to worry about losing him again. Not to me, anyway.”

That last part was meant as a joke, but to Kurt it feels more like a jab. Not at Kurt, and not at Sebastian. At himself. He’s skewering himself on his own metaphoric sword, one he’s been carrying around with him ever since whatever happened happened.

Whatever he’s about to say, he doesn’t expect Kurt to forgive him, or to speak to him ever again.

Kurt’s eyes meet Sebastian’s, but Sebastian isn’t looking at him. He’s staring at an insignificant speck on the bar, frozen to the spot.

Numb.

“Come on, Sebby …” Tears burn in Julian’s eyes that Kurt can hear in his voice. “You love him. He loves you. He should know, dont’cha think?”

Sebastian still can’t seem to answer. He’s paralyzed, mouth agape, unable to breathe a single word. Kurt has never seen Sebastian like this. Whatever Sebastian hasn’t told Kurt yet, whatever this pain is that the two of them hold on to, that the two of them share, Julian is getting ready to spill it. Kurt won't deny that he wants to know - he wants to help. But this is not how Kurt wants to find out.

He doesn’t want Julian outting his brother against his will.

“Julian, no,” Kurt says, even though he’s sure what he’s saying no to is the one thing he’s wanted to know all summer. “You can’t do this. You can’t hurt your brother like this. It’s not right.”

“No, Kurt! It’s my story, too!” Julian insists, unhinged. “And I … I need you to hear it, to try and forgive me because what I did made this …” He flicks a finger between Kurt and Sebastian “… so much harder for you! And you don’t deserve that!”

Julian had mentioned early on that Sebastian would never want to look weak or vulnerable. Kurt suspects they have that in common. Kurt wonders when the last time Sebastian saw his brother like this was. A while, he assumes, if the way Sebastian’s eyes widen are any indication.

“It’s … it’s fine.” Kurt’s voice is thick, on the verge of panic. He feels like he’s standing in the path of a runaway train with nowhere to run, no way to escape. “Really. Forget about it. I … I forgive you. It’s …”

Julian shakes his head. “Don’t, Kurt. You don’t understand. You can’t even conceive of how bad I hurt him …”

“Julian …” Kurt steps protectively in front of Sebastian, puts his free hand on Julian’s knee and squeezes, trying to break through his haze of whiskey and self-pity “… please, stop. I don’t need to know.”

“Yes,” Sebastian agrees in a voice so quiet, it can’t qualify as an actual sound. Kurt turns to look at his boyfriend, expecting him to be looking away, off in the distance like Julian, maybe down at his shoes. But he’s looking right at Kurt. “Yes, you do.”

Kurt shakes his head. This time, it's Kurt's turn to plead.

"Sebastian ..."

“That’s the spirit, baby brother,” Julian cuts in with a fake laugh and a halfhearted version of his trademark salute, which has been conspicuously missing the past week while he’s been brooding over Cooper. He takes his next shot off the bar and passes it to Sebastian. Kurt watches Sebastian sadly put the glass to his lips, snap his head back, and down the drink, a single tear racing down his cheek and getting lost in his hair. “Let’s tell our story together.”

Julian knocks on the bar as the bartender walks by and the man fills their glasses. He sets one out for Kurt without asking and fills that one, too. Kurt is so stunned he doesn’t have the wherewithal to wave the man away. On his end, the bartender doesn’t seem to mind that Kurt and Sebastian don’t look anywhere close to 21. He looks about as done with life as they all feel right now, or like the bouncer at Scandals when Kurt and Blaine first went, which would be a funny comparison any other time but now. Kurt wishes he could bring it up, break the tension, get a smile out of Sebastian, steer this conversation in a different direction.

But that would be beneath them.

“There was this … guy,” Julian begins, landing on that word as if the crux of their problems is always some guy. “Seb fell so hard for him, so fast. He called my brother all sorts of cutesy nicknames. They were so adorable together. Frankly, it made me kind of sick. But, in the spirit of brotherly love, I wanted to help Sebby land this boy, because back then, he had no game to speak of.” Julian grins with inappropriate wickedness. “And I mean no game. So I got them some fake IDs and I took them out drinking.” Another shot appears. Julian downs it. Just as quickly, it’s refilled. Kurt has lost count at this point. “It might have been love.” Julian’s brows draw together. “Was it?” He squints up at Sebastian, waiting for an answer. Sebastian downs another shot but says nothing. Julian shrugs. “I don’t know. It could have been. I mean, not the kind of love you guys have, but love. But right before we went out that evening, I got into a fight with Cooper, and I turned into an asshole.” He sputters. “Well, more of an asshole than usual, right, guys?” He pauses, snickers to himself, gets a little carried away, but he doesn’t sound like he’s enjoying his joke. He sounds like he’s trying to keep himself from crying. And he’s not doing that good a job. “I got them both drunk …” he explains, waving in the direction of the bar “… and then I went about seducing this poor boy of Seb’s.” He shakes his head, the look on his face one of revulsion. “Man, I pulled out all the stops for that kid. I really went overboard. And he fell for it – hook, line, and sinker. I may have made him fall in love with me.” He growls angrily, another shot flying down his throat. “Sebby, he got mad, sulked in a corner …” Another wave of his hand, this time in the direction of the jukebox sitting in a half circle of golden light “… had one too many to drink. He got real sick, went to the bathroom, and while he was in there, there was … there was a man ...” Julian hiccups.

Warning bells sound off in Kurt’s head, their clatter coursing through his body, carrying adrenaline with them, and now his hands begin to shake. “Don’t. Stop. I don’t think I should hear …”

“No,” Sebastian whispers, his voice raw, as if he’s been drinking nails instead of alcohol. “Let him … let him finish.”

Julian turns on his stool, eyes blurry as he stares off behind them. “When I got to them …” He squeezes his eyes shut, tears leaking from the sides “… he had Sebastian pinned between the sinks, had his pants unzipped and his hand down them.” Julian’s voice shudders, gaze returning to his glass, glued as if he can see the memory in the reflection, playing before his eyes. It probably is, Kurt thinks. It probably plays back for him over and over when he shuts his eyes, when he drinks too much, every day that Sebastian was overseas … “He was trying to kiss him, k-kept saying …” Julian clears his throat so violently Kurt feels his own throat burn “… kept saying that he wanted to t-taste himself on Seb’s lips.”

And that’s the moment.

The moment when those alarms in Kurt’s head, and all that coursing adrenaline, build in his chest, and explode. With those words, Kurt’s entire body folds in on itself and freezes solid from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. It creeps underneath his hair, makes his follicles itch as if bugs have been nesting there and are clawing to get out. A picture of Sebastian pinned against a bathroom wall like Kurt was with Max in that bar in Columbus fills Kurt’s brain. The man pinning Sebastian there Kurt fills in with the vilest human being his mind can conjure up. Now that that image is there, Kurt knows it’ll never leave him.

Like Sebastian and Julian, he’ll never be free of it.

But back in Columbus, when Max tried to assault Kurt, Sebastian was there. Sebastian saved him. Even though that memory enrages Kurt, it doesn’t paralyze him with fear.

A second later, he feels the phantom of Dave Karofsky’s mouth on his, and his knees nearly buckle beneath him.

“So …” Kurt says, “so, that man … he …”

“Yeah,” Sebastian says with his last bit of voice, the hand that’s been latched on to Kurt’s since Julian’s story began slipping away. “Big brother charged to the rescue about a minute too late.”

“Oh … oh God. Sebastian …” Kurt turns to his boyfriend, to hold him, but by the time Kurt realizes he’s leaving, he’s completely out of reach, weeding his way through the tables to get outside, find fresher air. Kurt turns back to Julian, but his gaze stops on a narrow door with a small rectangular sign nailed over the frame. It’s the door to the bathroom, directly in Julian’s sight line, which Kurt had overlooked since he thought Julian’s gaze was aimed nowhere. Julian glares at it like he’s fit to burn it down, and things suddenly fall into grooves and click.

This is the bar.

This is where Julian took them.

This is where it all happened.

That’s why Sebastian was so certain Julian would be here.

That’s why he didn’t want to come in.

“That’s what happened between the two of you?” Kurt stares at Sebastian’s back, fighting between running after him and giving him a minute to pull himself together. “That’s why Sebastian went to Paris? That’s why he stayed away for so long?”

“Yup.” Julian downs his next shot. Kurt’s and Sebastian’s, too, with such effortless fluidity, those glasses might as well have been full of water. “That’s the story of how big bad Julian Smythe let his brother down, lost his trust … and broke his heart.”

***

“Are you okay?” Kurt asks when he finds Sebastian standing by the curb, staring at his shoes while he teeters on the edge. Kurt had been practicing those three words while walking through the bar towards the door. He didn’t want his voice to crack, needed to stamp out the tears pressing behind his eyes. He didn’t want Sebastian comforting him, which he would if he thought Kurt was upset. Kurt needs to remove his own feelings from this equation.

He needs to remain neutral and help his boyfriend.

He’d considered stopping into the restroom and splashing water on his face, but no. He wants to stay miles away from there. He can’t see it. He can’t know what it looks like. Speculating is fine. Intrusive thoughts he can handle when they’re figments of his own imagination. But reality …

Reality will split Kurt apart.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” Sebastian says, looking over and around Kurt instead of landing on his face. His eyes are red, but it doesn’t look like he’s been crying. Kurt imagines he’s been out here pressing the tips of his fingers into his eyelids, trying to erase the last ten minutes from his brain. And Kurt doesn’t blame him. “I’m good. I found Julian’s car, so I called for a tow.” His gaze flicks down the street, avoiding Kurt’s eyes with the pretense of checking for the truck. “He’s in no condition to drive home so I thought, you know, we should take him. If you don’t mind. I mean, he’s not the best driver when he’s sober.” Sebastian chuckles uncomfortably. Kurt watches his face stagger between holding it together and falling apart. “Besides, I … I don’t think he should be alone. He needs someone to take care of him.”

“I don’t mind.” Kurt is dying to touch Sebastian, to hold him. At the very least, to take his hand. But he’ll wait for Sebastian to come to him. Kurt doesn’t know where Sebastian’s mind is right now. Is it here, standing on the street, talking to him? Or is it in that bathroom long ago - scared, confused, praying for his brother to come find him and rescue him? “I think that’s a good idea.”

“Speaking of Julian …” Sebastian looks anxiously over his shoulder to the front door of the bar, as if expecting Julian to appear. “Where is he?”

“I helped him into a booth by the window.” Kurt points, re-directing Sebastian’s attention to the plate glass next to the door. At a round, wooden table where they can keep an eye on him, Julian sits, head resting on his folded arms, a glass filled with more ice than water melting by his right elbow. “I thought it would be best to keep him where I could see him. I paid the bartender twenty bucks not to give him another drink.”

“Ahhh. You’ve done well, Padawan,” Sebastian says with a wink. “But you didn’t have to do that. I’ll pay you back.”

“Don’t worry about it. Haven’t you heard? I’m rich.”

Sebastian snorts, worrying his lower lip with his teeth like he’s itching to remind Kurt that having a $10,000 cashier’s check at his disposal doesn’t necessarily make him rich, especially when it’s going to go straight to the bank, then straight out again to NYADA.

“I called Liv,” he says instead. “Told her we found Julian. And where.”

“How did she react?”

“I think she kinda knew. We’ve been wrapped up in the ongoing saga that is the Juliper rom-dram. We know how it plays out by now.”

Bizarrely syncopated steps approaching interrupt their conversation. Sebastian finds their owner, his eyes staying with him when he sees him coming their way. Kurt thinks he might be the tow truck driver looking for him, but a longer look says he’s not. He’s wearing a t-shirt and jeans, flip-flops of all things, and he’s smoking a cigarette. Kurt waves a hand in front of his nose, making no effort to hide his disgust, but Sebastian puts up a hand, getting the man’s attention.

“Hey,” he says, “can I bum one of those?”

“Sure,” the man says.

Kurt pulls a face. One of what? he thinks. He can’t possibly mean …?

The man stops walking and reaches into his back pocket for his pack. He shakes out a single cigarette and offers it to Sebastian, who takes it, thanking him under his breath. The man pulls out a blue BIC lighter and flicks it. Sebastian puts the cigarette between his lips. He leans towards the lighter with a hand cupped over the flame, taking a few long drags to get it going. Sebastian steps back, blows a long plume of gray smoke into the air.

“Thanks,” he says.

Kurt stares at him the way primitive man must have stared at the first eclipse. His thoughts go immediately to how bad that is for Sebastian’s lungs, how awful it is for his health!

But watching him a while, sucking on that cigarette like he’s a seasoned smoker, Kurt’s second thought is how unbelievably sexy he looks.

He’s not proud of that thought, but there it is nonetheless.

“No problem,” the man says, continuing on his way. “Have a good night.”

“You, too.” Sebastian takes another drag along with a bigger step back, doing his best to keep the smoke away from Kurt’s personal space. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, then another drag. “This isn’t an all the time thing,” he says without opening his eyes, not interested in seeing any judgement from Kurt, Kurt figures. “This is a once-in-a-blue-fucking-moon thing. The last cigarette I had … I don’t even fucking remember. It wasn’t this year, I don’t think.” Sebastian lowers his hand and flicks the filter of the cigarette with his thumb, sending spent ash to the cement. “I need something to calm me down and I … I don’t want to go looking for anything stronger. I need to drive.”

Kurt sighs, oddly disappointed in himself at Sebastian’s need to find anything stronger to calm him down. “I understand.”

Sebastian opens a single eyelid. The look he gives Kurt isn’t a glare, but it comes close. “What’s with the sigh?”

Kurt is about to admit that he’d rather be the thing Sebastian turns to for comfort, but he squashes that comment quickly. This isn’t about him. Not a single bit. There is something else on his mind. Something that bothers him more. “You grew up too fast,” he says sadly.

The hand with the cigarette traveling up to Sebastian’s mouth stutters to a halt, Sebastian staring at it as if he’s never really looked at one before. He flicks it again, sends more ash and a few sparks to the ground. “You’re probably right,” he concludes, bringing the cigarette all the way to his lips. He takes a drag, avoids commenting further. “Anyway,” he says when enough time has passed to change the subject, “I told her that we’re probably going to stay the day here because I’m …” He chuckles again, that same uncomfortable laugh that tiptoes on the borders of crying “… I’m just plain wiped out.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Kurt agrees even though he can’t see himself sleeping after this. His body is running on adrenaline, his mind racing with images and thoughts and questions. So many fucking questions. They’re maintaining out here with tasks they have to accomplish and Julian whom they have to get home safely. What is it going to be like when they’re alone in a quiet house and a dark bedroom? The same dark bedroom, Kurt assumes, that Sebastian had to return to after he was assaulted.

“Good. That’s good.” Sebastian takes a drag and doesn’t say another word. Kurt doesn’t either. Every single word he has fails him, disappearing when he needs them most. Sebastian takes a longer than normal pull on his cigarette, then crushes the tip underneath the toe of his shoe while he blows the last of the smoke away. He ditches the butt in a nearby trash can, brushes the ash off his hands. He shoves them deep into his pockets, staring down at the smooth, beige cement. “Kurt?”

“Yes?”

“I know I probably don’t smell all that stellar at the moment, not after that but … would you mind …” Sebastian’s voice cracks and his face screws up. He tilts his head to the sky, breathes in hard through his nose “… can I have a hug?”

“Of course,” Kurt says, almost barreling into Sebastian’s embrace.

Sebastian extends an arm, opens himself up to Kurt, and Kurt steps into it. Sebastian wraps his arms around him and holds him, huddled in the safety and security of Kurt’s arms.

Together they wait in each other’s arms until the tow truck arrives.

[shxxknytrash]

pair: iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2394

a/n: i hope you guys enjoy this! i apologize for any grammatical errors... my mind was all over the place but yeah! i want to dedicate this oneshot to @killlerqween​, i hope you enjoy this iwa-chan oneshot! <3

| | “i’m already home”

Cheers roared throughout the whole stadium - a very sweet sound ringing through your ears as you watch the team beneath you scream their hearts out; hugging each other with tears brimming down their cheeks as if their lives depended on the game. 

Well, it did. It was the game that would help them get to the Olympics, the final step in becoming one of the best teams to represent the country. 

The cheers didn’t seem to die out nor did the beating of your heart when you met his gaze for the umpteenth time. There was a tug on the corner of his lips when you didn’t tear away from his stare, unleashing the butterflies from the cages.

“Arigatou gozaimashita!!” 

His eyes glimmered with pride and you knew that he wanted you to see him shine in the court where the two of you promised to be at when you were kids. With a nod from you, it was inevitable for a smile to creep its way to his lips; the smile you always adored. 

It wasn’t just a smile. It was the smile Iwaizumi reserved only for you. A smile like no other.

-

“Ne, ne, Iwa-chan... where do you want to celebrate?” you query, a little spring to your steps which only made Iwaizumi smile at such sight. “You’re awfully happy today, (y/n)-chan.” Iwaizumi casually teased with a playful grin.

Rolling your eyes at the man, you turn around to face him; stopping him from bumping into you. “You haven’t answered my question.” you pouted as you cross your arms over your chest, tapping your foot impatiently as you zeroed in on him.

“And you still haven’t told me what you were itching to tell me a while ago.” Iwaizumi retaliated with his sharp eyes looking down at you, pressuring you to spill whatever you wanted to tell him.

“Ne, Iwa-chan! I-... You were-” you stuttered as you felt the rush of heat going from your neck to your cheeks. Iwaizumi peers over his shoulder as he ties his shoes, nodding at his fellow teammates as they leave the room.

“I was what?” he asks while slinging his gym bag over his shoulder, eyes meeting your (e/c) orbs with a glint of curiosity. 

“N-nevermind!” you quickly transferred your gaze upfront with the most ‘convincing’ grin you could ever pull off.

“Oi, you better stop hanging around Trashykawa. You’re becoming more like him whenever I see you.” 

You knew how much you wanted to tell him he did a great job, however, there’s just something about how he looked had your heart hammering against your chest - getting you all nervous and clammy.

“I’ll tell you once you d-decide where we’re going to celebrate your victory.” you mumbled, lower lip tugged outward into a pout while avoiding his gaze. 

No matter how much he would want to deny it, he just couldn’t seem to get enough of you. You were you. You never changed for anyone - staying true to yourself. And maybe that’s one thing Iwaizumi liked about you.

The way your lips tug into the warmest smile whenever your eyes meet his during a game, how your eyes sparkle when you tell him about your day or how awesome he was when he did straight-ahead spikes, or how your cheeks would be dusted in pink whenever you got embarrassed on doing the cutest things just to see him smile.

(l/n) (y/n). The name that sounded so beautiful in his mouth. Was there even a name more beautiful than yours? For sure there wasn’t, according to Iwaizumi. 

Chuckling at your cute antics, you couldn’t help but get startled when you feel his hand on your head, ruffling it in response to your remark. “Alright, alright.” he gives up before tugging your arm, pulling you towards the direction of your destination. “So, where shall we celebrate?” 

“You’ll see.”

-

Whenever you spent time with Iwaizumi, you couldn’t help but notice how everything just pass by so fast. The moment you arrived at the place where you and Iwaizumi usually ate after his practices, you couldn’t help but gleam at the sight of all your favorite foods placed right in front of you. 

“You’re the best, Iwa-chan-”

“Huh, you’re not gonna call me how you used to call me, (y/n)?” he scoffs when he saw how flustered you’ve become. A mumbling mess to be exact.

With the pads of your fingers meeting the hem of your hoodie, all you could look at was anything except his chocolate orbs. You knew what he meant and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to call him with the nickname you gave him years ago.

Haji... he’s always been my Haji since we were toddlers... you thought as you continued to stall, only to receive a soft flick on your forehead making you look at him dead straight in the eyes with a gasp. 

“Did you just flick me, Iwa-chan?” 

Iwaizumi wasn’t sure whether you were trying to be scary or not but he, for sure, knows that you’re still cute despite trying to look all scary and mad. Rolling his eyes in response, he brings up a slice of pizza up to your lips. “Open up.”

His chocolate brown orbs looked at you, waiting for you to take a bite. You knew you didn’t have a choice - not when he’s looking at you with those eyes. Eyes that were of earthy hue; filled with nothing but warmth and sincerity.

Taking a bite from the pizza, you angrily ate beside him with a pout - receiving the pizza with both hands as you avoided his gaze. “Now, what were you planning to tell me? It seems like you’ve forgotten your promise.” he muses as he continued to put a variety of dishes on your plate.

Right, I haven’t told him yet... 

“You did great out there, Haji... I’m really proud of you.” your voice was soft, a whisper that was only loud enough for Iwaizumi to hear. The words that his heart longed to hear were finally laid out for him; his eyes immediately meeting your (e/c) orbs to see any hint of sincerity.

[a/n: s/c - skin color]

The (s/c) cheeks were not the only ones dusted in pink; the tips of your ears were now in a darker shade compared to your cheeks. Were you embarrassed? Kinda. Why so? You, yourself don’t even know why you’re all jittery under his gaze.

Iwaizumi has always been your Haji, a brother you couldn’t replace but for some reason, every single part of you screamed otherwise.

You always felt weak when it came to him, you always felt calm when you’re in his arms, and you always felt like you were in cloud nine whenever you guys rather spend time with each other. And yet, you always felt like exploding whenever you could feel his gaze at you -  like now. “I know I’ve told you this a lot of times but... I genuinely am happy and proud of you, H-haji.” 

“You’ve grown so much- you’ve improved so much that it warms my heart to see you become the man you are right now.” you reach out to take his hands in yours, casting your gaze on both of your hands. With your thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of his hand, it seemed to calm you down, but it sent shivers down Iwaizumi’s spine.

His hands felt rough against yours, yet you still loved them. It may be calloused, but it was a reminder of how hardworking your Haji was. “I’m glad to be beside you on this journey of yours, Haji.”

“O-oi... w-what’s gotten into you?” Iwaizumi stuttered with cheeks and ears tinted in red. The way his heart pounded against his heart scared him; scared that you might hear how loud it was. Iwaizumi has loved you throughout these years, and just hearing the things you said sent him into bliss. 

Giggling at his question, you didn’t mind how his tongue seemed to be caught in a knot as you look up to him with a smile. “My Haji’s all grown up!” you faked tears, throwing your arms around him while rubbing your cheeks on his shoulder.

And with just your usual antics, Iwaizumi was red enough to pass out from embarrassment which sent you into a laughing fit.

“S-Stop it!”

-

Both of your tummies, and also your hearts, were full from the simple celebration. It hasn’t been a while since the two of you walked side by side.

The sky was dusted with black tranquility – a choir of stars danced around the serenade of black. The cold wind planted kisses on your faces, leaving rosy marks on both of your cheeks and nose. Times like these are the sole reason as to why Iwaizumi loves walking with you.

It reminded him of how content he was with having you by his side. Just walking with you sent his heart into a wonderful bliss. Glancing at your figure from time to time, he couldn’t help but notice the tiny details.

The way your eyelashes would create shadows over your cheeks due to its length, the way your nose and the corner of your eye crinkled when the wind blew, and the way your red, plump lips tug into a smile were enough for him to smile.

Seeing your apartment from afar, you turn your body towards Iwaizumi; only to be startled when you see him looking at you already. “Ne, ne, Haji, you can just drop me here since my apartment’s near already!”

“No.” Iwaizumi was adamant in sending you home since he had a mission to complete. A mission, well, more like a promise he made with himself. The sound of your whines was enough to snap him out from his own train of thoughts, casting his gaze back to you with eyebrows furrowed in response. “If something were to happen to you, I swear Trashykawa would kill me (y/n),” he adds, taking your silence as an opportunity to drag you towards your apartment.

“Oikawa this, Oikawa that! He doesn’t even care if something’s going to happen to me-“

“Are you sure? As much I can remember, Shittykawa would always nag at me whenever I leave you for a second.” Iwaizumi knew how much Oikawa loved you as a little sister and it was only reasonable for him to use Oikawa as an excuse every damn time. Rolling your eyes at your best friend, you huffed and puffed your cheeks in frustration – allowing him to drag you all the way to your apartment.

The two of you stood right in front of your doorway with you grinning at Iwaizumi. “Thanks for walking me home, Haji!” you beamed while connecting your hand with the doorknob, only to be stopped by Iwaizumi. “I’m not yet going home, (y/n).”

Baffled by his words, you furrow your eyebrows at him. “Iwa-chan,” you paused as you crossed your arms over your chest for the umpteenth time for the day, “you need to go home and rest. You’ve done so well today!”

“I don’t want to,” Iwaizumi firmly retaliates. His stubbornness was enough for you to lose your cool. You tried your best to push him away from your door, but of course, you only failed knowing how strongly-built your best friend was. “Just go home already and rest!” you whined with arms still wrapped around the wing spiker.

Looking down at you to meet your glistening eyes, Iwaizumi tilts his head with arms wrapping themselves around you.

“But…” he pauses for a while and continues, “I’m already home.”

What? you were frozen in your place, unable to understand what he was trying to say. “You’re already home?” Your grip around him was starting to loosen up. It was as if he took every ounce of energy left in you with that sentence, but you also couldn’t seem to look away from his gaze.

“I’m already home,” Iwaizumi’s face didn’t show any hint of insincerity and the way his arms around her tightened had her head spinning. “I’ve found my home in you.”

He found his home in me? your ears couldn’t believe what they were hearing. Iwaizumi, your best friend since childhood, found his home in you. What did he mean? Was it literally or…

“I’ve promised myself that if we win the game a while ago, I’ll fess up.” He pauses as he gently pushes away a strand of hair from your face, tucking them behind your ear just to see your face clearly. “I’ve always loved you, (y/n). I have and always will love you for who you are.”

“Ever since we were young, I knew right there and then that you were special to me. Special in a way where all I could see was you, no matter how hard I try to defy my feelings, it has always been you, (y/n). I couldn’t be the person I am right now if it weren’t for you.” Iwaizumi’s sudden revelation had your heart go wild, opening all the cages you have inside of you. You always knew Iwaizumi was a man of his words and never did he lie to you when it came to speaking from the heart.

“You made me see things in a better light. You believed in me when no one did. You accepted me for who I am, continuously accepting me with open arms… I don’t even get why you do so when there are tons of men stumbling on their feet just to get your attention.” He continued, ignoring the widening of your eyes when you felt his heart beating so loudly against his chest. He was nervous but if he were to stop now, he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

Iwaizumi pulls away from the hug, taking your hands in his as he continued to search for your eyes - only to be met by your (e/c) orbs. “And for all of it, I thank you for making me feel this way, (y/n). I love you. I really do. Not as a sister or a friend.” he ends his confession with a shy smile. Soon, embarrassment dawning on him, he scratches the back of his head while avoiding your gaze.

“Y-you know, you don’t need to tell me how you feel about me right now. I will respect how you feel and your decisions... I just wanted to tell you how I honestly felt towards you and how much I want to cherish you for the rest of my life-”

“I love you too, Haji. I’ve always loved you.” you cut him off with a smile. The way how his eyes softened at your confession made your heart flutter once more. You always knew Iwaizumi was special to you - no one could ever compare to him, no matter what you did, no one came close to Iwaizumi. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me that question, Haji?” wrapping your arms around his neck, you tug him closer ‘til your lips were centimeters apart. Flustered at your actions Iwaizumi couldn’t help but swallow his saliva, eyes trying to focus on you. “Then... W-will you be my girlfriend, (y/n)?”

“Of course, I’d love to be yours.” you cheekily answered as you pulled him into a kiss, closing in the space in between the two of you. 

The two of you stayed in that position for a couple more seconds before pulling away with cheeks dusted in pink. Raising your hand to cup his cheeks, you leaned in once more before placing one last peck against his soft, plump lips.

“Welcome home, my Haji.”