#anyway I’m silently observing this article

[rickybaby]

WHAT'S MADE RICCIARDO A RED BULL-LEVEL PEREZ-BEATER IN MEXICO

[yeehawbvby]

Can you do an Arven x f! reader who likes to wear his shirts?

Of course!! I'm sorry it's a bit short/if there are any errors, I was super tired while writing this ;;w;; I hope you like it! 💕

Snug as a Scatterbug | Arven x F!Reader

Rating: G | WC: 688

The first time you wear one of Arven’s shirts, he’s very puzzled.

Standing at the doorway to his room, he watches you work. He left a few moments ago to grab some snacks, and when he came back, the last thing he expected to return to was his girlfriend standing topless in front of his closet. At first, this leaves him speechless and flustered.

Then, he observes as you pick his favorite, comfiest, yellowest sweater out of his wardrobe and toss it over your head. This is where the confusion ensues.

“...What are you doing?” he asks, leaning against the doorframe while his lips curl into a grin. 

You stop flattening out the hem of his sweater, freezing in place. You’ve been caught red-handed. Rather than explaining yourself, outwardly panicking, or apologizing, you simply mutter, “Don’t worry about it,” before continuing to situate yourself in his clothing. You don’t even turn around to address him. 

He won’t lie to himself – something about seeing you with his shirt engulfing your tiny frame has Butterfrees going nuts in his stomach. There’s something simultaneously adorable and hot about the sight of you in his favorite article of clothing; about how the fabric reaches your knees, and the sleeves go past your hands, creating little paws when you lift them up. Not knowing how exactly to respond to this situation, Arven decides to leave it be. 

The next time you wear one of his shirts, it’s his white uniform top. ‘Why that old thing?’ he silently wonders.

You two don’t even have classes to attend that day – you’re just grabbing sandwiches at the local Every Wich Way. The shirt you had on originally matched your outfit more than this, too – your pastel pink leggings worked better with the pastel purple hoodie you had on up top. 

Feeling his cheeks burn hot when he peers down at the way his dress shirt drapes over you, he decides once again not to question it. It’s not like you’re gonna keep stealing his stuff, right?

…‘Again?!’ Arven thinks to himself the third time. 

He left you alone to take a shower and change after a long day outdoors with your teams, and when you return to him, another one of his sweaters is consuming your torso. This one is a black, Shiny Wooloo wool turtleneck that he bought while interning at a restaurant in Galar a few years back.

“I gotta know,” he prompts, getting up from his spot on the couch and walking towards you. “Why do you keep taking my shirts?”

Your cheeks redden, and you look away from his face. “Thought I told ya not to worry about it, punk,” you sass.

Arven laughs. “I’m not worried, I’m just confused.” You try to walk by him, but he stops you with your ultimate weakness: head pats. As his large palm lands on your scalp, you stop in your tracks. “I don’t mind you wearing my stuff, it looks adorable on you anyway,” he reassures you behind a wide smile. “I just wanna know why.” 

You sigh, before bashfully answering, “Your clothes are really cozy, and they smell good.” You fidget with the oversized sleeves around your hands, finally looking up at him. “Feels like you’re constantly hugging me when I have one of your shirts on... It’s nice.”

Arven nearly keels over. ‘So cute!’ If this man wasn’t already head over heels for you, he definitely would be now.

From that point on, Arven goes out of his way to offer you his clothes. Oh, you wanna stay over for a night? Screw those pajamas, take one of his tees instead. 

Is it chilly out? Toss one of his sweaters, maybe even one of his jackets, over your own shirt to keep warm. 

Not seeing each other for a few days? He’ll offer you half his wardrobe. “That way you never run out of hugs!” he proclaims, making you feel warm and fuzzy inside. 

Now that Arven knows your “secret,” he might love seeing you wear his shirts just as much as you love wearing them, if not more.

[woahpip]

glowing: for @kastleexchange's come what may event

“You look different,” Foggy tells her. 

Karen’s not sure how. The blouse she has on was bought years ago and somehow survived the multiple moves and tragic events that made up her life. It was dark blue, made out of an eyelet embroidered fabric so you could see a little glimpse of her skin underneath. It was the perfect warm day shirt while still being long sleeved and professional. It was dark, so there were no Chinese food stains or blood spatters.

“I’ve had this shirt,” is all she says.

“No.” Foggy’s not letting this go. “That’s not it. It’s you. It’s your face.”

“My face?”

“It’s bright. You look backlit like a girl in a movie, except it’s your smile.”

“Like I’m all teeth?”

He’s exasperated with her now; sighs like she’s taking him on a walk and won’t let him walk, but they were talking about this because of him!

“No, Karen. Like you’re…like you’re really, really happy.”

“Oh,” is all she says back.

Foggy’s face is blank, like it is when he’s working out a problem, creating an argument in his brain to relay it to her and Matt. They’re still in the deli, the smell of ham also having to be ignored when he needs everything around him to be quiet. It’s his thinking through the ham face.

“I saw something in the news the other day. Short article. Buried in the back pages.”

“You know that’s where news goes to die, Foggy,” Karen tells him.

He tilts his head. “And I know you know sometimes that’s where the best news is. Anyway. I just saw some Irish mob people were found dead, weird situation. Police have no idea what happened, just that it was bloody.”

There’s the rub. There’s why he’s holding his face still, the stillest thing in New York.

“I work with you and Matt, not for the paper anymore. Not sure what you’re getting at.”

“Why are you lying, Karen? I know he’s back in town.”

There’s no point in keeping up the lie; he knows.

“More observant than you thought I was, right?” he says when she doesn’t fess up right away.

“No, Foggy. I know you’re smart. I watch it in action everyday. I just didn’t want to say anything. It’s my life.”

Besides, she only saw Frank once (another drop in on the street, another quick exchange of information, a whispered see you later, Karen that shouldn’t have been enough to have her glowing enough everyone can tell that something fundamental has shifted in her life.

“He’s a killer, Karen,” Foggy says. He picks up his paperwork and leaves the office, their shared table in the deli where they break bread everyday, share their lives again in a way they’d once lost.

Would this be their downfall, again? Not Matt Murdock and his tendency to save the world first, other obligations second, but her connection to a man who has killed, yes…but who’s also saved her life. Multiple times.

“Sorry, Foggy,” she whispers to the air. 

The I’m not forgetting him part stays silent.

[coffin-contemplator]

❝one of coffee, debit cards & corpses❞

Summary:

“‘Is this my debit card?’ Strahm questions suddenly, his voice strained with something Erickson can’t really place.

As soon as the quarry hits the air, Hoffman’s expression shifts from casual to teasing and borderline innocent.”

It doesn’t take an investigator to be able to guess that Agent Strahm is not a patient person. And so, standing in the middle of a gruesome crime scene, he quickly realises he’s running low on the supply of fucks being given. The man paces, clearly exasperated. Meanwhile, his superior seems completely oblivious to the storm that’s silently brewing within the younger man.

“Perez?” he asks, still hoping for some form of salvation.

“Family emergency,” Erickson replies briefly, knowing exactly what Strahm’s trying to achieve. “Look at it this way—do you actually have anything better to be doing?

The younger agent growls under his breath but doesn’t answer. They both know what the response to that is; Federal Bureau of Investigation, the big shots in finding, solving and judging business my ass. What’s the point of hiring this many people, anyway, if half of them spend one hundred per cent of their working hours still trying to solve letters from Zodiac, while the rest keeps getting called to regular homicides whenever the local PD appears short-staffed?

Concerningly, he isn’t sure whether he’s glad or disappointed that Jigsaw is not involved this time. 

Strahm huffs and is about to share some of his complaints with his superior (a decision that—career-wise—would probably come back to bite him in the ass) but as his mouth falls open, a sergeant appears by his side out of nowhere. 

“Sorry for the wait.” The guy can’t be more than in his late twenties. And he clearly hasn’t been working in this industry for long, considering the disturbed glances he can’t help but throw in the direction of a corpse lying just a few feet away from them. “The lead detective is on his way. He should be arriving any minute now.”

Erickson thanks the sergeant for the information. The young one appears relieved being able to go back outside and spend the rest of his workday without the unnecessary company of dead people. 

“They sure like to keep us hanging around,” Strahm grumbles, making yet another loop while walking. I mean, hey, it’s not like he’s stomping over any important evidence—the forensics had finished here a good while ago and would have already left a good while ago if it wasn’t for the requirement to confirm that the body may be taken to the coroner’s now. 

The older agent bestows his companion with an unimpressed glance. “You know, recently I read this interesting article on attention deficit and hyperactivity—”

“Don’t.”

Erickson watches him pace a bit more. “No, but seriously, maybe you actually should—”

“One more word and I’m sending in a resignation letter.” 

The older agent raises his hands in a mock surrender. Just then, his attention suddenly switches to the figure behind Strahm, approaching rather quickly. He smiles, recognising the newcomer. 

“Good morning, Detective Hoffman,” he greets, as he watches the younger man balance a tray with three cups of coffee in his left hand, only to extend the right one for the agent to shake.

“Special Agent Erickson,” Hoffman nods at him. “Nice to see you again.” There’s a polite smile playing on his lips too. He looks around, merely acknowledging Strahm who’s currently preoccupied with staring daggers at him. “No Perez today?” he asks casually. 

Erickson shakes his head. “Unfortunately, no.”

The man pauses briefly to thank the younger as the latter hands him the coffee. He takes a grateful sip, as he observes Hoffman repeat the action towards Strahm as well. He could’ve sworn there’s another object being dropped into his subordinate’s palms. 

“Her girlfriend fell ill. It’s pretty serious so I let Agent Perez have a few days off to take care of her.” 

“Good call,” the detective comments shortly. 

Erickson’s finally about to divert his attention to the matter at hand; the crime scene that apparently has turned into a spot of police social gatherings in the span of the few past hours. But the intention dies before it can even really be born. 

Strahm, who’s been mostly quiet ever since the lead detective showed up, continues to stare at his hands, right where the objects have been planted by Hoffman only mere minutes ago. The older agent finally notices the small thing that’s previously stolen his focus. 

“Is this my debit card?” Strahm questions suddenly, his voice strained with something Erickson can’t really place.

As soon as the quarry hits the air, Hoffman’s expression shifts from casual to teasing and borderline innocent. 

“I didn’t want to wake you and it was lying out in the open,” the detective argues, smirking. 

The next thing that reaches Erickson’s ears is strong insults and curses, ones that even as a middle-aged married man he would prefer not to repeat (he definitely hears something about bastards, sadists and thieves). He tunes them out pretty quickly, however, as a sudden realisation dawns on him. All these fights he’s witnessed and the lingering tension between these two… It couldn’t be, could it? 

Ah, why not risk it? 

He turns back to them, interrupting just as Strahm is about to throw something arguably heavy in Hoffman’s direction.

“Are you two—” He points at one of them, then the other, trying hard to make sense of whatever’s happening and completely forgetting that they’re all at work, needing to establish facts on the homicide they’ve been called to deal with. “I mean, are you—”

“With all due respect, sir,” Strahm hisses, effectively cutting him off and putting an end to his superior's sprinting thoughts. “Just shut it.”

Note: Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this work, please consider leaving some love on my AO3 account!

I'm on Ko-fi, too!

[187days]

Day Seventy-Seven

Today was six kinds of hilarious.

It’s pajama day, which was awesome, since I got to roll up in Old Navy PJ pants, a hoodie, and fuzzy socks (all of which got compliments from my students, haha). It’s also the day of the staff holiday breakfast; instead of PLC meetings, we’re treated to a buffet made by the advanced culinary students and chefs, and served by the administrators. This year’s was particularly good. I had some awesome stuffed french toast, eggs, crispy bacon, fruit salad, and, of course, coffee. I ate with my Cacophonous friends in Ms. A’s classroom (there’s a cafe attached to culinary, but it’s small, so we opted to find our own spot), and we exchanged gifts after we ate.

I also got some gifts from students today: candy, homemade cookies, and this really cute (and delicious!) charcuterie box one ninth grader’s parents delivered. That was so nice!

And, speaking of the ninth graders, they continued with their current affairs assignments today, and it was another awesome day. They asked me if we could do some fun and games tomorrow if they got that assignment done today, and I agreed to those terms (not telling them it was already my plan once I saw how quickly they were completing their work... can’t let my Grinch-y reputation go), so they worked hard. It wasn’t quite as pin drop silent as yesterday, and there were a couple attempts to steal one boy’s water bottle and another boy’s “emotional support chicken” (literally ones of those rubber chicken noisemakers... the ways of ninth grade boys are mysterious). But they were still pretty focused. 

I did accidentally derail my Block 3 class about ten minutes before the bell. One of the girls who was done her work asked what I wanted for Christmas, I said money for traveling this summer, they joked about going along with me, and I said I was going with a guy. I should’ve known they’d lose it when I said that since I’m pretty tight-lipped about my personal life. They demanded details, I gave a few (his name, his age, how we met, what he does for a living) and they made up the rest (he’s rich, he spends tons of money on me, we’re going to get married). It was pretty funny. 

Also funny: accidentally revealing my ex-boyfriend to my GOV class. 

So, before we got into the things I’d planned to teach, we watched and discussed President Zelensky’s address to Congress because it’s important. Once I’d fielded all the questions students had about that, I went back to the regularly scheduled lesson. I lectured on what drives voter turnout, voter behavior models, and campaign GOTV efforts. One of the boys observed that those efforts cost a lot of money, so that was my segue into teaching about campaign finance law. Students read an article explaining FECA and the FEC, we talked about it, and then I showed them hot to search hard money donations on the FEC website. I searched my own as the example, and clicked on an ActBlue donation to show them how it’d been earmarked, figuring it was one I’d sent to our local congressman. 

Nope.

See, way back in college, I dated a guy who later ran for Congress. The donation I happened to click on? Was totally the one I’d made to his campaign.

Should’ve checked the date...

Anyways, I laughed and said, “Okay, well, that’s my ex.” And, again, because I so rarely talk about my personal life, that totally surprised and amused my students. A beat later I added, “I broke up with him when I took this job. You’re welcome, class.”

That’s a true story, and it got a big laugh. 

So, hey, we’re learning, we’re having fun, it’s all good. More on campaign finance law tomorrow, but I will write my notes in red and green markers to make it festive!

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 23 - Haunted Heart [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Coming home can cause issues.

Series Masterlist

                          SIX MONTHS LATER

You flipped the knife in your hand as the guy tied to the chair glared at you.

“You know,” you trailed off, “I’ve had a really shitty couple of months, Johnny- can I call you Johnny?”

“No.”

“Rude,” you commented, “Fine. John. I’ve had a really shitty couple of months so you really don’t want to try me right now. Just tell me where I can find your boss.”

“You’ll never find him you stupid bitch.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Since I’m going to kill you in a couple of minutes I feel like I can share some things with you,” you said, “My best friend says I keep everything bottled and I should talk about my feelings.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“See, that’s exactly how I feel!” you pointed at him, “Thank you. I mean, I feel angry at myself. I kind of fucked up with the man I love.”

“Jesus Christ, just kill me already.”

“I’m waiting for a text to do that Johnny,” you pointed out, waving your phone at him. “So, I tricked him and used him and threw him to wolves. And then Accords 2.0 didn’t pass and he has been pardoned once again, and he’s a free man now. I have a strong feeling that he’s not the ‘forgive and forget’ type of guy. You know, assassin to assassin.”

“You’re the chattiest assassin I’ve ever met.”

“Thank you, I’m trying to improve myself,” you said, “I mean what exactly should I do? I don’t even trust my agency at this point, my handler lied to me and I have been at this fucking place for six months now, hunting you down. Well, your boss but…”

“You’ll never find him.”

“We’ll see about that my friend,” you said, “So anyway, like what am I supposed to do? I lost the one guy I actually loved. How do you cope with that? Because drinking doesn’t work, sleeping with others doesn’t work…. Nothing seems to—“ you were cut off when your phone vibrated and you touched the screen to open the text message.

From: Julian

Go for it.

“Wait, no no no, I’ll talk—“

“Kind of too late,” you pointed the gun at him, ��Nice to meet you Johnny.”

With that you pulled the trigger, silencer doing its job as there was no loud bang or anything. His body fell back with the impact, and you heaved a sigh.

“Maybe I need a therapist I can’t kill,” you mumbled and walked out of the warehouse to approach the car before opening the door to the passenger seat to get in.

“Is it done?” Julian asked and you nodded, rubbing at your eyes.

“Yep.”

“Are you hungry?”

You made a face, “Just because the General sent you here does not mean we’re going to become buddies.”

“I’m not trying to become buddies with you,” Julian stated, “I just want to eat fries and there’s a two for one deal.”

You eyed him up and down.

“Fine, I could eat fries.” You leaned back in the seat as he started driving, keeping your eyes on the road. Soon enough, you reached the city center and Julian got fries from a food truck, then sat across from you.

“So,” he said, “You do realize this whole thing would’ve been over by now if we actually worked together?”

“I’m not going on the field with you.”

“The General sent me here to help you.”

You dipped the fry into sauce, then popped it into your mouth, “You can help me by pretending you’re not here.”

“Y/N.”

“You know what they say Julian. Fool me once…”

“Don’t tell me you’re still holding that grudge.”

“You mean when you left me behind to die on the last mission we were together?” you asked back, “That grudge?”

“I told you—“

“I’m not going to talk about that with you,” you cut him off, “And I work better alone. Who told you we could waste the guy by the way?”

“The General.”

You grabbed the salt shaker to pour some salt on the fries, causing Julian to make a face.

“Are you kidding me? That was salty enough-“

“Why did he not text me?”

“No idea. Maybe he’s avoiding you because he promised you handler and here you are. Field spy.”

Your jaw clenched.

Or maybe he’s avoiding me because he fucking lied to me.

You had to give it to him, it was the perfect plan. The moment he had suspected you were getting too close to Bucky, he had come up with the one thing he knew that would make you switch sides.

And that-

That was below the belt yes, but that was also masterly.

But at the end of the day, you barely had two people to trust in the entire world, and you seriously doubted you could ever forgive the General for what he had done. You knew he held duty above all, above family and surely above you, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

You shook your head at yourself and grabbed another piece of fry.

“So um…” Julian shifted his weight, “Are you okay?”

You shot him a glare, arching a brow, “Peachy.”

“No I mean… About Barnes.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This whole Accords 2.0 failure, there’s no way we could go after him again.”

“I don’t want to go after him again.”

“You don’t want revenge?”

That made you straighten up your back and you put the fry down, “And why exactly would I want revenge?”

That made Julian fall silent and you nibbled on your lip.

“What exactly did the General tell you before you came here?”

“That there was a job here.”

“Bullshit,” you replied way too quickly, “Did he send you here to be my babysitter? He thinks I’ll go after Barnes myself is that it? That’s why they sent you here months after I left the country but right after Accords 2.0 didn’t pass.”

Julian licked his lips.

“Listen, the agency wants to keep you safe—“ he started but then his phone beeped. He grabbed it to take aa look at the screen, then cussed under his breath.

“What?”

“Check your texts.”

You touched the screen and frowned as your eyes skimmed the text.

From: General

Time to come home.

“Well,” you muttered, your heart dropping to your stomach, “Shit.”

                                                   ***

Coming back home was harder than ever now. After catching up with Keith and Chloe, you were taken to your new apartment that was given to you by the agency as usual, and for the whole night you couldn’t sleep.

Even if there was no trace of Bucky in your new apartment –in your new life, you still couldn’t shake off this feeling. It was as if the moment you had entered the country, Bucky had entered your life in an instant.

Odds were, you wouldn’t really see him again. After all it was a big city, and Bucky wasn’t exactly the social type.

So your first week back in New York wasn’t exactly terrible. You were still waiting for your orders while getting to know to the city slowly, because after long missions it always took time for you to remember you had a real life there, real memories—

Well, as real as it could be, for a spy.

“Just see it as a vacation,” Chloe had said, “They threw you into another mission as soon as you got out of the country, it’s just a delayed vacation.”

As far as vacations went though, this one just sucked.

Maybe it was because you couldn’t keep away from places you and Bucky had been too, like this coffee place where you had first officially met.

You sipped your coffee, scrolling down on the news website as your eyes skimmed yet another article about Accords and whether you could trust superheroes or not, but you were soon distracted when someone pulled the seat across from you, making you look up from your phone.

And as soon as you did, your heart dropped.

You had to give it to the General, he was manipulative, he was a liar and he had betrayed your trust terribly but the one thing he had done right was training you well. Aside from that one second, you managed to adapt a look of nonchalance on your face, slowly putting your phone down.

“Hello Cap.”

Sam raised his brows and eyed you up and down.

“You’re back?”

You could swear he could hear your heartbeat and you shrugged your shoulders, looking around.

“Yeah,” you said, “Big apple and everything.”

“So much for the small town girl.”

“I have never been a small town girl,” you drawled, “Never been to Oregon either.”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

You turned your coffee cup on the table just so you could do something with your hands.

“Why?” he asked after a beat and you shifted your weight despite your whole training of feeling calm and collected, nervousness hitting you out of nowhere.

“You’re a veteran, Wilson,” you managed to say, “You don’t need me to tell you how the chain of command works. Army doesn’t care how we feel about orders.”

“I’m very familiar with how chain of command works,” he pointed out, “But you’re not a soldier, Y/N. You’re a spy.”

“That makes it even worse,” you stated, “I know it sounds like an excuse, but… you don’t know how my agency works. I don’t get to say no to orders, and I sure as hell don’t get to blow my own cover.”

“But you wanted to, didn’t you?”

Jesus Christ, Wilson was really good at this observation thing.

“Doesn’t matter what I want,” you said, “I’m no use to anyone if I develop a conscience.”

“But you did,” he insisted, “Why else would you come to help us? Why else would you warn him beforehand?”

“He told you about that?”

He shot you a look, “What do you think, Y/N?”

You scoffed a laughter. “I was feeling generous,” you said, “No other reason.”

He kept his gaze on you for a couple of seconds, as if trying to see whether you would cave before he took a deep breath.

“You know he was going to propose, right?”

That-

That was just too much. You could feel your jaw hanging as you stared at him in complete silence, his words echoing in your ears.

“No,” you said after a moment, then shook your head fervently, your nose in the air, “No you’re wrong.”

“I’m not,” Sam said, “Apparently he was looking for this… house painted in white with—a red door or something.”

Don’t cry.

Do not fucking cry.

Spies don’t cry over heartbreak.

You clenched your jaw and blinked back the tears, straightening your back.

“It’s a good thing he didn’t get to, then.”

“Y/N, he loved you.”

“No Sam, he loved someone who doesn’t exist,” you replied, “Sweet small town girl with sundresses and smiles and some house in the suburbs with kids and all that shit. Girls like me don’t get that ending, I have way too much blood on my hands.”

He pressed his lips together and you cleared your throat.

“How much does he hate me?”

“Why do you think he hates you?”

“Assassins aren’t good at forgiving,” you said, “I would know, we don’t have that talent.”

“That’s not a talent, that’s a choice.”

“It really isn’t,” you muttered, “So?”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

You let out a bitter laugh, “Yeah no. Actions have consequences and I’d rather not cross paths with the deadliest assassin in the world after double crossing him.”

“But you want him to forgive you.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Intuition,” he said and pushed his chair back to stand up.

“He didn’t kill your father, Y/N.”

You heaved a sigh.

“I know,” you said, “Trust me, I would’ve walked away so much easier if he had.”

“Enjoy your coffee,” he said and walked out of the coffee house. You threw your head back, closing your eyes.

“Yep. I shouldn’t have come back.”

                                                  ***

“I never thought I’d say this, but I kind of hate that we’re not living so close anymore,” you pressed the phone between your shoulder and your ear and opened the door to your apartment as Keith chuckled.

“I knew you’d miss me.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re a softie deep inside. Very very deep inside.”

“If you repeat that in front of anyone I swear to God…” you muttered and he groaned.

“Have I told you they’re putting me in the same team as Julian?”

“You guys have a new mission?”

“Not a long one probably.”

“Why the fuck am I—“

“Because you’re on a vacation,” he cut you off, “And also they’re probably going to make you a handler, that’s worth waiting for.”

“That or….”

“We’re not talking about that on the phone,” Keith said quickly, “Amateur.”

“Careful there, I’ll outrank you soon enough,” you said, walking to the bathroom to wash your hands. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Alright, see you later!” he said and hung up. You put your phone into your pocket, then washed your hands and made your way to the kitchen.

It was only when you put the wine bottle back into the fridge that you noticed something was off. Your body moved on its own accord, before you knew it you had already grabbed the knife in your boots and threw it to the figure in the dark corner of the room but he easily caught it, metal hitting what sounded like another kind of metal before he stepped out of the corner. Your breath caught in your throat, and for the first time in your life you froze, all the training leaving your mind.

You were supposed to be looking for a weapon, any kind of weapon but somehow, your body refused to move.

Bucky turned your knife in his hands, his gaze pinning you to your spot before he tilted his head.

“Hi honey,” he said, his voice way too cold. “I’m home.”

Chapter 24

[stetervault]

I was just wondering if you had any historical/Victorian AUs for steter? I heard Past the Point of No Return from Phantom and now I desperately want a Phantom style fic but I’ll settle for anything historical. It was an amazing thought. All the Steter I’ve been reading has spoiled me. Also love your blog!!!

Historical AUUUUUUUU coming right up. I'm assuming you don't just want Victorian period or regency-type eras (there's so few of these anyway) so I'll just list ones that take place several decades to several centuries ago. And a few of them aren't just Steter but I'll mark the poly ones. I like them all so you can give them a look and see if any of them strike your fancy.

Out Of The East, Never See The Sun Rise by neglectedtuesday (this one just speedruns through history, from Ancient Greece to modern day)

In the beginning, there are three absolutes.

One. Stiles is a god, forged of starlight and collapsing galaxies and he is eternal.

Two. Peter is human, fragile bone and viscous blood and he is temporary.

Three. Stiles and Peter are in love; love that claws its way inside one’s heart like fish hooks; all encompassing love that is beautiful but dangerous.

Stiles is a god. Peter is human. They love each other.

Three absolutes.

-0-

Orbital Distance by neglectedtuesday (1940s, but SPACE)

Artemis, the capital city of the Moon, where movies are born and stars are made. The crown jewel of American cinema and simultaneously Hollywood’s biggest rival. The money may be dollars, it may be counted as the 51st state but the studios run this city, making cinema and waging war. No real bloodshed but equally cutthroat in its own way. Peter has devoured article after article about the industry, from in-depth journalism to gossip rags, desperate for every detail, every scandal, every glorious moon moment.

-0-

Hooverville by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids) (Great Depression - 1930s)

Town to town, train to train, tent to tent.

By 1932, the dust had begun to blow and the jobs were gone.

Anonymity was a byproduct of looking for work, which made it both necessary and convenient.

Stiles had enough secrets of his own to know to look the other way when he saw something that shouldn’t be possible.

The ghost of a tail giving enough balance to disembark a moving train.

Near silent Latin whispered on the edge of a tent encampment.

A flash of burning eyes.

He had more than enough to worry about without adding the oddities of others, and besides- having unusually sharp teeth certainly didn’t make a man worse than the ones running from the wife and kids they couldn’t feed.

So Stiles kept his observations to himself. He kept his everything to himself.

Until he met a man. One with eyes so blue they seemed to glow- and then they did.

Stiles tried to look away, but for the first time he was stopped.

“Don’t be like that sweetheart. Aren’t you curious?”

-0-

Steam Rises from the Body by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids) (Korean War - 1950s)

Peter and Stiles are surgeons in a Mobile Army Surgical Hospital near the front line of the Korean War.

-0-

A welcome arrow by 1001cranes (Regency Era)

The wedding is small and grim, because Stiles is being carted off to parts unknown, married to a thirty-something year old dude who wants to marry a seventeen year old dude - totally not creepy at all.

-0-

A Matter of Chance by 1001cranes (Regency Era)

"I’m going to offer for the Stilinski boy," Peter announces at breakfast one morning.

Greenberg drops the entire pot of hot chocolate.

-0-

my very soul demands you by veterization (Victorian Era - 1800s)

Orphan Stiles Stilinski seeks work at Hale House, an enormous, foreboding mansion in Beacon Hills run by Mr. Peter Hale, who employs him as a butler. Or: Stiles is Jane Eyre, and Peter is Mr. Rochester.

-0-

Royal A/B/O Au by charlottecjhlvr (Historical Royalty)

When his father's Kingdom and the Hale Kingdom make a treaty, Stiles is the one who has to make it work.

-0-

Temporary Claim by sunrise_and_death (Historical Royalty)

Some, of course, are off limits. Queen Talia and her husband have their special favorites who join their marriage bed from time to time. Laura has several young strapping men that are hers and hers alone. Even Derek has a few favorites—the quiet ones, the sweet ones.

Peter? The Duke only has one.

-0-

Send Newts by Bunnywest (Regency Era)

The first thing Peter notices is that Talia’s smiling, and that in itself makes him suspicious. When he sees that Laura’s smiling too, his distrust intensifies. “What?” he demands? “What is it?” Talia’s smile widens as she serves him a cup of tea, made just how he likes it. “Just wondering if your new husband knows you’re such a curmudgeon in the mornings,” she says sweetly. Peter’s cup clatters against the table and the tea spreads in a puddle, ignored. “My what?” “New husband,” Laura chimes in, and then she’s wrapping her arms around Peter’s neck, and saying, “Thank you, Uncle Peter,” and hugging him tight, and the memory of last night tugs at him again. What happened again, exactly?

-0-

Sacrificial Lamb by Bunnywest (Generically Historical idek)

The Alpha has a scruffy beard, unkempt hair and dazzling blue eyes. The scar on his face is raised, running down his cheek like a twisting, gnarled rope. Stiles knows that it came from the blade of Kate Argent herself, and that the Alpha got it fighting in the battle where Kate killed his lover, cutting his head clean from his neck, if the stories are to be believed.

The Alpha lets Stiles look his fill, before indicating that Stiles should take the other couch, and Stiles does so, his father’s words echoing in his ears. He can do this, can be pleasant and amenable. The lives of his people may depend on it. The Alpha spends long moments surveying him, before saying, “I like you, Stiles.”

You don’t know me, Stiles wants to blurt out, but he bites his tongue.

-0-

Like An Arrow by wynnebat (also Generically Historical)

After the war, Stiles means to return to the countryside and never see an alpha again if he doesn't have to. But when his freedoms as an omega are in peril, along comes his former commanding officer with a proposal better than any Stiles has heard, except that it doesn't include words of love.

Stiles hardly trusts himself not to reveal his feelings to a man who doesn't feel the same way. After all, if Peter were interested, surely he would have made his move years ago...

-0-

Wild Creatures by neglectedtuesday (Regency-ish?)

The treaty is signed while Stiles is being laced into his wedding corset. Ink splatters parchment as a maid pulls the ribbons, tighter and tighter. Stiles’ breath and future are taken away, all to save a village. He is a sacrifice more than a bride. The maid assists in fixing a choker around Stiles throat. Her hands are cold despite the roaring fire in the grate. The choker is a string of blood red rubies, they reflect the firelight with a wet shine like an open wound.

-0-

Two Worlds Collided by Bittah_Wizard (another history speedrun)

It was always meant to be Stiles and Peter.

Always.

-0-

Viking Wolves do it Better by MaroonDragon (Viking Age)

Stiles is the omega witch in the village he was born in. A gift that had been passed to him from his mother. A curse that left him an outcast amongst the people he helped heal. Until one day he no longer is. Kidnapped by the Viking Wolves of the North, he suddenly finds himself a human amongst wolves. There is one wolf in particular who is intent to woo him into staying. Stiles is really only indulging Peter until he can make his escape. There is nothing remotely interesting about the other man. Not a single thing.

-0-

Utterly Appropriate by wynnebat (Regency Era)

There's only one person whom Stiles would marry, and whoever has asked for her hand isn't on that list.

-0-

Bittersweet Creek by Guede (Wild West Era - late 1800s-early 1900s)

When Stiles finally steps off the westward trail to California, he’s the last of his pack. He starts building a den, but then he finds a dying man next to a burnt-down house and it turns out he’s not really much of a settler, after all.

-0-

Intemperance by Guede (Prohibition Era - 1920s-1930s || Peter/Stiles/Chris/Derek)

Stiles is the one who gets pulled back to Beacon Hills by a murder.

-0-

Wolf Ranch by Guede (Wild West Era - late 1800s-early 1900s || Peter/Stiles/Lydia/Chris/Derek)

At first glance, Beacon Hills seems like a terrible place to settle. Ruled by alpha werewolves and surrounded by a haunted forest filled with outlaws, it’s not very friendly to Eastern greenhorns. So Stiles and Lydia should fit right in.

-0-

Moonshine by Udunie (Prohibition Era - 1920s-1930s)

Deucalion was sitting in the corner that was reserved for special guests, with his henchmen - a pair of twins - guarding the table. He was just putting his stetson down, eyes catching Peter and widening just a fraction when he noticed Stiles. He was a good guy though, and quickly got his pokerface back in place. Nobody came to the Moonshine and insulted Peter.

“Deucalion, nice to see you,” he greeted, not acknowledging the goons who were giving Stiles the side eye. He knew they probably wanted a piece of his kitten, but thankfully were not foolish enough to try.

[mysterystarz]

the romance checklist:

summary: a chance meeting with kageyama has you striking up a bet to see if one of you could fall in love with the other before the year was up. cue the romance checklist, a piece of paper that molded your fate and his.

pairing: kageyama tobio x g!n reader

word count: 3.2k

genres + themes: literally pure fluff, reader is a first-year karasuno student, reader is also kind of a romantic

warnings: none

a/n: so this is my first time writing for kageyama and i know he's probably pretty out of character, so my apologies!! this was inspired off some headcannons i wrote for one of my irl friends, and this wiki-how article which i used to structure the actual checklist! to all my lovely kags simps, this is for you <3 (also to all the people who hate angst, you lucked out bc i was about to add an angst part but got lazy)

You had never thought a trip to the vending machine could be so eventful.

It had been lunch break, and you found yourself wandering towards the machine, money in hand as your eyes trailed the snacks. It had become routine to sneak away during lunch hours for this, enjoying the fresh autumn breeze as you bought your snacks. It had always given you time to think and the time to recompose yourself when you didn’t have a clue what to do.

Usually it also provided you with time alone.

That wasn’t the case today though. Standing in front of the vending machines was Kageyama Tobio, frantically pushing the button for milk with a grumpy sort of scowl on his face. From the distance you stood, you could make out his height and the way he tapped his foot continuously, as if he didn’t have the time to wait for the milk to be dispensed from the spot.

Strolling up to the spot, you stood silently next to him, watching the way he retrieved the milk from the slot wordlessly as he walked away, not even a glance in your direction.

You knew full well who he was. In fact, you could barely walk through the halls of school without hearing a murmur about the prodigy setter and his closed off ways. The girls found him intriguing from afar, and while they never dared to approach him, they all wanted to.

You hadn’t really understood what they saw in him. He was average...if not below that in academics, and he seemed to dedicate most of his time to volleyball, not caring much for other people. He didn’t seem to have many friends, and was almost always grumpy.

All of this should’ve been reason enough to avoid him, and yet you couldn’t help but be intrigued. There was something about him that was different. You just needed to find out what that was.

The next day came around, and sure enough, he stood at the machine again, toe-tapping as his milk was dispensed from the slot. This time his eyes scanned the courtyard as if he was seeking something before they finally landed on you.

You weren’t prepared for the full impact of his gaze. It was calculated and pointed, with some sort of intent that was expressed in every inch of those dark blue eyes. You weren’t put off by it.

In fact, it was charming in its own way.

“Are you looking for something Kageyama?” You asked as you walked towards him, pulling a few yen out of your pocket. “You’re staring.”

“I’m not.” He deadpanned, his eyes still trained on you as you selected a snack from the machine’s buttons. “I see you everywhere. Who are you?”

You hadn’t expected that. You knew he was observant...when it came to volleyball specifically, but never realized how it translated anywhere else. “I’m Y/L/N Y/N.”

You weren’t sure what else to say to him. Gently grabbing your snack, you politely nodded at him before leaving him behind, the thoughts rapidly accumulating in your brain. Did he notice you the entire time? Why did he ask? Did he know something? Was he planning to use you as some example to the other girls who wanted to know him?

You wish you had an answer.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t think of any.

It had been two weeks since you had met Kageyama by the vending machines. It had now become routine to expect him there during your lunch breaks, milk box in hand as he regarded your very presence with something that felt a whole lot like curiosity. Every now and then he’d offer commentary on the mundane happenings of Karasuno, or ask about you, but you weren’t sure how you could hold a conversation with just these things.

“Kageyama.” You nodded, strolling towards the machine as you always did. He whipped around almost immediately, offering a solemn nod in return, clutching his milk box.

“Y/L/N.” He murmured, taking a sip of his box.

“Have you ever thought about love?” You found yourself asking, internally screaming at the word choice. Great, now he was going to think that you were some crazy person.

“I think so…?.” Was what he offered in response. His features seemed to soften at this question though as he scrunched his brows in thought. “What type of love?”

You raised a brow at him in question. “Kageyama...what type of love are you talking about?”

“Well...I love volleyball and milk.” He shrugged. “That counts.”

“That...wasn’t the type I was referring to.” You said, suppressing the laughter that bubbled into your chest. “I was talking about the other kind.”

“The other kind is stupid.” Kageyama replied instantaneously. “There’s nothing special to it.”

You felt confusion seep into your system before you quieted it, letting your mind wander. With Kageyama’s status, you assumed that he’d at least thought of the concept at least once, although it seemed that he’d never even pondered the idea altogether!

“You’d have to feel it to come to that conclusion,” you countered, “Have you?”

“No,” he scoffed, “It’s still stupid.”

“Why?” You asked, feeling the curiosity surface. “Any specific reason?”

“Why would anyone want to dedicate all their time to another person?” Kageyama asked straight back, his gaze unwavering. “I just don’t see the point.”

You stared back at him, feeling the challenge bubble in your veins. “I bet...I can make you fall in love with someone by the end of the school year.”

At that moment, the boy in front of you looked thoroughly surprised, throwing his empty milk box at the garbage can nearby. He seemed speechless to some extent, as if he wasn’t able to process the words that had just left your mouth.

“And what happens if you can’t?” He asked, hesitantly bringing his gaze to your face. “What then?”

“I’ll buy you milk for a whole month.” You placed your hands on your hip as you kept your glare firm. “I stick to that.”

“Okay then,” he sighed, “Game on.”

With a shake of your hands, you cemented your fate.

You would win that bet. That much was certain.

“What’s this Y/L/N?” Kageyama asked, pointing at the piece of paper you held at him. “How are you going to win a bet with this?”

The two of them stood in the courtyard of Karasuno, the fresh autumn breeze rippling the paper you held in your hand. It had been a good day so far, and Kageyama had surprisingly stuck to his resolve, meeting you at the vending machine when he could’ve easily avoided you.

It was always more fun to challenge a competent opponent.

“This is the romance checklist.” You grinned proudly. “This has all the things we need to get you to fall in love.”

“How is it fair if you don’t do the checklist’s things too?”

“Well, that’s why I’m doing them with you.” You responded, already anticipating these types of questions. “I drafted the checklist off of the things I’ve observed over the years that should totally lead to feelings of love!”

“Whatever.” Kageyama said, his blue eyes scanning the paper’s contents. “How do you plan to do this?”

“We follow the steps.” You nodded. “Since I’m doing this with you, it’ll be foolproof.”

“Y/L/N...what if we competed against each other?” He mumbled. “We follow the checklist and use it against each other. Whoever falls in love first loses.”

“Do you really want to risk that?” You smirked, “That’s a bold move you’re making.”

Kageyama stood up straighter at this, the challenge burning deep in his eyes. “I’m going to win, so it won’t be an issue.”

“Suit yourself,” you grinned. “I’ll be winning this anyways.”

He simply smirked as he looked down at the paper, the promise of a challenge fresh and bright between them.

STEP ONE: MEET SOMEONE

After a long time, you had finally gotten some free time away from schoolwork and the obligations that pinned you down. It was a rare occurrence with the amount of pressure that the college prep class placed on you, and you intended to make the most of it.

You found yourself on the pathway of a cafe you used to frequent in the summer with your friends. It had always been a place to collect your thoughts and let your worries float away with every sip of one of the immaculately crafted beverages that they offered there. You felt your lips twitch in an involuntary smile at the memories.

“Y/L/N?” You heard a voice call out, a shocking contrast to the normal chattering you heard within the shop. Looking up, you were met with Kageyama’s eyes, narrowed and confused as you sat at the table frozen. “What are you here for?”

“It's a break for me,” you shrugged, “I come here all the time. I haven’t seen you here before.”

“They have good drinks,” Kageyama replied bluntly. A few beats of silence passed between them, with neither of them knowing what to add to the conversation.

“You can sit down with me.” You offered, gesturing to the empty seat across from you. “The more the merrier.”

He didn’t question this as he slid into the seat, fingers drumming on the table as he looked at the window. From your point of view, it was almost picturesque the way he managed to appear. His blue eyes were focused on the trees outside, and his posture was ever so casual and relaxed as he sat there, as if he had no other care in the world.

It was unfair how model-like he managed to appear, even despite the fact he wasn’t trying.

Ah. Perhaps this is what the girls at school noticed.

Once the drinks arrived at your table, the two of them drank in comfortable silence, admiring the flavors on their tongues as their surroundings continued on as normal. You didn’t feel the need to contribute anything to the silence, finding it calming in its own right.

“So Kageyama, are you feeling anything yet?” You teased, setting down your half-empty cup.

“No.” He admitted, setting down his drink as well. “I am supposed to?”

“Well technically no, but it’d be good if you did.” You chuckled, finding amusement in the cluelessness of his ways. “Step one of the romance checklist: meet somebody.”

“We already met though.” He countered, “How does this count as anything?”

“Well, we just encountered each other out of nowhere.” You smiled, “That counts as a meeting in my book.”

He wrapped his mind around this information, nodding solemnly. “I guess so then. I still don’t feel anything.”

“Neither do I.” You said, willing the slight butterflies in your stomach to subside. It was really nothing. This was simply a chance meeting, nothing more than luck and fate that had you encounter each other today of all days.

You shouldn’t have been affected this quickly. You felt far too warm, far too...fuzzy, for a meeting of chance. It was simply far too intimate.

Well, it seemed that Kageyama had gotten the one upon you at this stage.

You’d beat him next time. You knew you would.

STEP TWO: FLIRT

“You look good today Kags,” you smirked, feeling a sense of satisfaction creep up in your veins at his flushed cheeks,

Over the course of the weeks spent together, you had been able to learn more about the mysterious boy in front of you and had even formed a friendship of sorts. For starters, he was flustered very easily, which is why you decided to make your move so early in the morning.

“I look like how I do every day, dumbass!” He growled, the red deepening in his cheeks when you merely winked in response.

Ah yes. He tended to insult those he befriended. That was yet another endearing thing about the boy in front of you.

“No, something is different today,” you commented, “Did you do something with your hair?”

“No,” he frowned, the flush never subsiding from his cheeks. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“I’m just saying genuine things you know.” You laughed, punching his shoulder casually. “Besides, I think I’m succeeding so far.”

“Succeeding? This is that stupid checklist again, isn’t it?” He sighed. “Step two: flirting. What is the point of this again?”

“It’s to show interest.” You remarked. “Besides, if you want me to fall for you, you’re going to at least have to act like you’re interested in me. I know it’s working on you so far.”

“No it’s not!” He yelled, although the defense was half-hearted. You knew he was merely putting up a front. You could tell it from his body posture alone.

You had the upper hand right now.

You waved him goodbye as you entered the Karasuno grounds, climbing the stairs to reach your class as he walked in the opposite direction. Even if you had the upper hand right now, you knew that you had to be on-guard the rest of the day.

If there was one thing you knew very well in the time you had spent with Kageyama, it was that he was extremely competitive. There was no way he’d ever go down without a fierce fight, especially when a month’s worth of milk was on the line.

You had been absolutely right to doubt him.

When lunchtime rolled around, he stood at the vending machine like he always did, leaning against it casually as he waited for you, his focus placed on the entrance.

The first thing you noticed was how calm he was. There was none of his usual frantic energy or the practiced insults that you threw back at one another. He simply stood there, content, as he watched you make your entrance.

The second thing you noticed was how an unconscious smile crept onto his face when you waved at him and slipped away the minute your eyes darted to his mouth. He sipped his milk casually, although you knew that internally, he was definitely scheming.

He could be a gremlin if left untapped.

You were about to purchase your snack in silence, thinking about all the ways he could win against you when you felt his hand on your shoulder. Turning around, you saw him holding out a container of your favorite snack, handing it to you wordlessly.

What?

“I thought I would get it today,” he shrugged, taking a sip of his milk. “You’ve bought me milk sometimes. It’s only fair.”

He didn’t consider it much of a big deal, but you felt your heart begin to accelerate in its pace at the thoughts that came flying into your head.

He had paid attention to your favorite snack? He had actually cared about when you bought him milk?

He noticed all of this?

“You...have a nice smile.” He mumbled, a flush rising onto his cheeks once again. You felt yourself fluster a bit at the compliment, not used to hearing it that often.

“Uhhh thanks.” You exhaled, not knowing how to respond to such an out-of-the-blue remark. “Your smile looks a lot like the Cheshire cat you know.”

For a moment his face was contorted into an expression of horror before he laughed a bit, the low chuckles sending heat straight to your cheeks.

Damn it. His laugh was adorable.

It was a low chiming sound, but it still managed to uplift your spirits in the brief time that you heard it. It was absolutely perfect.

You’d like to hear it again if you could.

A small smile was on his face as he looked to the ground, thinking about something while you took the time to really look at him. Behind the stone exterior, was someone talented, clueless, and amusing in every way you could possibly imagine.

You noticed how his posture mirrored yours, and the way how he smiled when your eyes finally met his own.

Damn it! He got the one-up on you. Again.

STEP THREE: GO ON THRILLING DATES

“Tobio! Let’s go on this one!” You yelled as you dragged him towards the large rollercoaster that caught your eye.

It was a beautiful Saturday with the most perfect weather. Sunny skies met a fresh breeze as you dragged Kageyama around the amusement park you had insisted on going to together. He kept with your quick pace as you went from ride to ride, never once letting go of his hand.

If anything, you were more confused why he didn’t comment on the fact that you had been holding hands that long. Rather he silently followed you from ride to ride, occasionally commenting on how small it looked for them.

From where you stood, the rollercoaster looked positively incredible with the multiple loops and drops in its track. This certainly fit the bill for thrilling. Maybe Kageyama could finally agree to ride this one.

“Y/N, do we really have to do this one?” He asked, his gaze not tearing away from the ride. “Doesn’t it look a bit too small for us?”

“Well if it’s too small, then we can still ride it as a joyride, don’t you think?” You grinned as you shoved him into the line of the coaster. Soon enough, it was your turn as you were ushered into the seats while the employees strapped you and Kageyama into the rollercoaster.

The wait was excruciating, with every second that passed sending a wave of anticipation and adrenaline through your system. Looking to your side, you saw Kageyama’s face, which was composed, even though his fingers drummed rapidly on the bar.

Was he nervous?

Hesitantly, you reached to clasp your hands together, relishing in the feeling of your palm on his as the rollercoaster suddenly began moving, bringing you up the tall lift hill.

“Tobio, are you okay?” You questioned as you neared the top, the grip he had on your hand tightening ever so slightly.

“I’m fine!” He yelled, just as the roller coaster fell over the lift hill, sending them into a plummeting drop.

You felt the exhilarating feeling of soaring as the ride propelled you forward, shouts of glee leaving your mouth ever so often. On the other hand, all you heard from Kageyama was the occasional shout of horror when they encountered yet another drop on the track, the grip he had on your hand deathly tight.

“Tobio! You’re afraid of rollercoasters?!” You shouted as you were guided into a loop.

“No I’m not!” He shouted back, shutting his eyes when he was finally upright again. “They just make me feel like I’m about to die!” When he opened his eyes, they first found yours in a look that was both petrified and fond. “I think I lost the bet!”

“You did what?!” You yelled as the wind rippled in your ears again.

“The bet Y/N! I think I’m in love with you!” He yelled. “I thought I should tell you before we die!”

You felt your heart soar at the words that had just been exchanged, a testament to the budding feelings you had felt for months around him.

“We’re not going to die.” You sighed as the ride finally slowed, feeling exhilarated as you smiled at him. “I love you too.”

Stepping off the rollercoaster, Kageyama was more silent than anything, red flush adorning his cheeks as you massaged soothing circles onto his hand. “We both lost it in the end.” You laughed.

“I think it was worth it,” he chuckled, the beautiful chime, showing you that he meant every word.

©mysterystarz all rights reserved, please do not plagiarize, translate, or modify my fics in any way even if credited

taglist (bold cannot be tagged): @moi-bunni @kousukii @littlecatfairy @iwasunshine @kawaii-angelanne @haikyuutothetop @dearkousei @catchmewiddershins @perqabeth @sunarinluvr @elektrosonix @milktyama

reblogs are very appreciated <3

[al-the-remix]

37 & 54 pls!

Sid/Steve 😌 Coming Out Fic + Secret Relationship 

Steve turned a dial, easing the gage on the espresso machine, going through the motions like it was any other morning while he listened to Sid huff and scoffed under his breath from his seat at the kitchen island. There was a derisive snort followed by a curse cruder then he’d heard from Sid in a while and the sound of the iPad being discarded carelessly onto the countertop. Steve released the pressure with an audible hiss. 

Steve finished up with the coffee and placed Sid’s in front of him, taking his own between his hands and leaning back against the counter so he could observe Sid over the steam.  

"Consensus?" 

Sid huffed, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to rein in his frustration. "It's stupid. This is all stupid." 

Steve hid his smile behind the rim of his cup, unable to help his amusement at Sid’s annoyance. He’d likely be in trouble if he were caught out, but sometimes that was just the price you paid to play the game and Steve had no intention of seeking reimbursement for his ticket stub. He was quite satisfied with his current lot in life. Smug, even. 

Sid wasn’t always so easily amused with the media’s speculations. He’d spent a week in a state of apoplexy after it had been suggested that Steve’s current job with Hockey Canada wouldn’t be able to keep him entertained for long. Of course, the article hadn’t had anything to do with their relationship, the media hadn't known about it at the time, but if Steve wasn’t satisfied working in Canada then it was inferred that he wasn’t satisfied in Canada with Sid–And Steve did have a record of saying he’d take on less work only to turn around and double down. 

Anyways, the week of near-silent rage had ended in a bout of very un-silent sex, so Steve wasn’t complaining.  

"What--it's secret just because I don't shoot Sportsnet a text every time I suck your dick? It's--" Sid cut himself off, compressing his lips. 

"Stupid?” Steve guessed.  

"Yeah," Sid concurred, deflating somewhat. 

“I don’t know, I kind of like the idea of me leaving you for a twenty-year-old dreamboat.”

Sid narrowed his eyes at him, fingers inching towards the discarded iPad. “Which article said that?”

“None of them, I’m just fantasising.” Sid didn’t need to spiral down another internet rabbit hole. 

Sid let out a huff that might have constituted a laugh. Steve reached over and covered Sid's hand with his own. His heavy platinum ring against Sid's black silicone. He rubbed at Sid’s knuckles soothingly, pleased when Sid squeezed his hand a little tighter. Steve knew that this was never going to be easy for Sid, no matter how it happened. 

Steve was pragmatic; Sid tried to be, but he always had and always would be driven primarily by his emotions, no matter how he tried to distance himself from them with an unhealthy attachment to the second person. It was endearing in a way that also made Steve want to pull out all of his hair when directed his way. 

He'd expected the vitriol, but not the direction it had been inflicted. Something that Steve still felt guilty for and maybe slightly ashamed of. He didn't know why he'd braced himself for Sid to direct his ire towards him per se, when everything finally came out, but he was glad that it hadn’t turned out that way.

"You know it doesn't change anything, what they think," Steve said gently, placing his cup down so he could take Sid’s hand in both of his. He’d never been with anyone for as long as he had been with Sid, after he’d gotten his Cup as a GM and Sid had had his victory lap with the Penguins, putting his own ambitions aside to find a way to make their lives interlock more soundly had been an easy decision to make. 

"I know." 

"We're old news now, boring. They'll catch wind of something much more interesting in a day or two." 

Sid looked up from underneath the hand that had been running ruts through his curls. "I know.” he gave a self-deprecating smile and sighed. “I just, I don’t know how any of these people think they understand the minutiae of what goes on inside anyone's relationship when they never leave their houses. 

"Hell, some of my friends don't post a photo of their wives on Instagram for a month or two and people think they're getting a divorce, it's the dumbest thing.” 

As a quantitative variable, it was definitely lacking. Steve let Sid see his smirk this time. "I see our marriage isn't long for this world then."    

Sid rolled his eyes, dropping Steve’s hands so that he could move around the island and loop his arms around Steve’s waist. They stood together in the soft morning light of the kitchen window, Sid’s nose buried in the hair at Steve’s temple and Steve’s cheek rested against the worn fabric of his sweater. At forty-three Sid’s hair had gone completely grey compared to Steve’s that was still fighting the good fight at sixty-six. 

Steve ran his hand down Sid’s back in a slow caress, settling it at his waist, tucked warmly under the hem of his sweatshirt.   

Neither of them were big gesture people, excelling at the quietly intimate. But every so often Sid would exact a sentimental gesture so precise that it took Steve like a knife to the gut. You think he would have practised it with the same fervour he practised his edge-work, till it seemed natural to watch him glide in a semicircle on nearly horizontal blades.  

His commitment was intense the way everything Sid did was intense, to the point where sometimes it seems too monumental to reciprocate.

Sid let out a breath, not unlike the pressurized air being released from the espresso machine. “Maybe we should have just been open about it from the beginning.”

Steve hummed in consideration even though he knew Sid would never have been totally okay with that. They had agreed it wasn’t secrecy, it was privacy and that made a difference. He lifted one hand to run his knuckles down the unshaven edge of Sid’s jaw, turning his head to press a lingering kiss to the soft underside. “No, I don’t think I’d change a thing.”

[mammoneymelon]

How the brothers would react to finding out that MC is autistic

before anyone says anything, i’m autistic and just really want some representation

TW for ableism! the boys are doing their best but no NT immediately knows everything about autism

it’s a bit random, but i headcanon that lucifer has misophonia, so it’s only a matter of time before a noisy/verbal stim starts to drive him up a wall

“what in the devildom are you doing?” he’d ask, eyebrows scrunched in frustration

you have no idea what he’s talking about; after all, you’ve just been sitting on your DDD playing some rhythm game

“what do you mean?”

“you’ve been making that noise for hours; cut it out before i have to go find the packing tape.”

you know him well enough to know he isn’t joking, so you nod and do your best to stop, ignoring the feeling of dread beginning to well up in your chest

you go back to your game, and soon enough, you’re back to ‘making that noise’

you see lucifer stand up, bringing your action to your attention.

“oh, sorry! i didn’t realize i was doing it again, sorry!”

“oh?” he asked, looking down at you. 

“it’s stimming. autistic people do it a lot more than others, and sometimes we don’t even notice it.” there’s a moment of silence but you realize you just told him something you hadn’t even told your human friends

“ah, yes, i do remember reading about that in your file. i didn’t want to say anything so as not to offend you.”

you shake your head. “dude! that’s personal business! i don’t like telling people.”

lucifer’s gaze seems to soften. “don’t fret, MC. i won’t tell a soul.”

and he doesn’t.

he also totally buys you quiet stim toys

it’s not long before mammon realizes you are terrible at reading the room

you have a terrible habit of cracking a joke at the worst time or saying the first thing that comes to your mind, even if it was at the expense of others

at first, mammon, mammon thought you were really brave. now, however, he sees that you just have no idea what you’re doing

currently, your knack for trouble had landed you in detention, something you’d gotten fairly used to in the human world. mammon was sitting next to you - he was paying for trying to defend you

“lucifer’s going to kill us. again.”

“and whose fault is that?”

“sorry,” you mumble. “it’s not like i was trying to get us here.”

“really? because it’s startin’ to seem like you are. not that i blame ya, if i were you i’d do anything to spend more time with the great mammon.” he gives you a smile, and you really hope that means he isn’t mad

“i really don’t like upsetting people, i just don’t really get tone? i didn’t even realize the teacher was mad until you stepped in. “

“dude, she was on the verge of killing ya! what do ya mean you “didn’t even realize”?

you pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. “it’s part of a disorder i have. autism. i just don’t get some stuff that comes naturally to other people.”

“ohhh.” mammon slaps his head, feeling like an idiot. “sorry,” he murmurs, and you barely hear it

mammon, being, well, mammon, will probably forget.

it’s not that he doesn’t care! it’s just not something that comes up in conversation.

of course, when the two of you do talk about it, he picks up on the symptoms pretty quickly. he’s a pretty smart guy, and he’ll do anything and everything for his human

the two of you are working on a co-op dungeon while you talk about your current special interest

“wow, MC, you know a lot about this!”

“thanks,” you respond, and it hits you - you’ve been infodumping almost this whole time

“haha, yeah, blame it on the autism brain,” you joke absentmindedly, not really caring if he knew. you two were good friends, why would being neurodivergent make a difference?

levi, on the other hand, does a double take. being the gamer he is, he’d definitely heard the word used as an insult, but he’d never thought about anyone actually having autism - much less his best friend

“MC, you have autism?” he turns to you looking genuinely confused, his controller sitting, forgotten, in his lap

“um, yeah? it’s not really a big deal,” you say, shrugging

“yeah it is! i mean i knew you were pretty weird, since you hang out with me-” he stops mid-sentence, realizing his mistake. “NOT IN A BAD WAY, OF COURSE! ah sorry, i said something stupid, like always.”

you shake your head with a small smile. you can tell he’s trying. “trust me, i’ve heard much worse. you’re fine, levi.”

he glances up at you, face red from embarrassment, and your smile widens. “i mean, i don’t think like ‘normal’ people anyway, so yeah, i kinda am weird.”

once you leave his room, he’s at his pc, researching more vigorously that he’s ever done for a class

the more he learns, the more annoyed he gets at the complete misunderstanding of the disorder

ultimately, he just wants to make sure you feel supported and understood

you’re sitting in the library, doing your homework while satan looks over your essay, checking for errors

“oi, MC”

“what’s up?” you respond, still focused on your work

“are you scared of me?”

this prompts you to look up, focusing your eyes on his hands

“i was when i first came here, and i definitely would be scared if i really pissed you off, but no, i’m not scared of you. why do you ask?”

“you never look me in the eyes. or my brothers, actually.”

oh. you’d been hoping no one had noticed. “oh, i just don’t like eye contact. it makes me uncomfortable.” you return your eyes to your paper, hoping that was enough.

“how so?” 

so it wasn’t enough.

“i’m autistic, genius. i figured it was obvious by now.”

“oh. that makes sense.” that’s all he says, so you try to return your focus to your homework.

satan is probably the most comfortable talking to you about it. he’ll ask you questions about your personal experiences and make an effort to understand you better

one day you look over his shoulder to find him reading an article on masking on his DDD

he cares deeply for you, even if it’s hard for him to say so

asmo has wrangled you into yet another shopping trip

“MC, look at this!! you have to try it on!”

one look at the article of clothing and your face is already scrunching up

“absolutely not.”

“awe, why not?” he gives you the biggest puppy eyes and you sigh. he knows your weaknesses.

“the material. i hate it.”

“but it would look so good on you~”

clearly, he’s not going to give up unless you explain yourself to him

“sure, for a couple seconds, until i have a complete meltdown,” you remark. “i’m autistic, so some textures just make me feel really bad.”

his mouth makes an ‘o’ shape, and then he goes back to looking confused. “i hadn’t even thought about that as a possibility! you should’ve said something earlier!”

he feels really bad about all the times he’s touched you without warning. he thought your shock was cute (and he still does), but he knows that autistic people sometimes dislike touch - he’s definitely had at least a couple autistic ‘partners’ in the past

he’s quite the observant demon, quickly picking up on sensations you d and don’t like. if you’re bothered by smells, he does his best to lay off on the perfume - granted, it’s a necessary part of his routine that he absolutely cannot give up completely. he lets you play with the dimmer in his room so you can find the amount of light that works best.

occasionally, he’ll have to tell you that he’s trying his absolute best to flirt and you are giving him nothing. you’re just like “oh shit i didn’t realize”

asmo’s just a sweetheart who wants you to be comfortable

beel unfortunately has to learn about your autism because of a situation out of your control

you’re in the gym, keeping him company while he works out

you’re searching his bag and you realize you don’t have your headphones

oh fuck.

you always bring your headphones to the gym; the sounds of televisions, music, people talking, weights clinking, treadmills rumbling... it’s too much

not to mention the stench of sweat and the florescent lights - truly an autistic person’s nightmare

you squeeze you eyes shut, but that only makes the noise worse. you’re surrounded by noise and you can’t stop it. it occurs to you that you’re no longer breathing properly but it’s just too loud and you’re so small

“MC?” beel’s voice is soft and filled with obvious concern. you open your eyes, seeing him kneeling in front of you. your eyes sting, and you realize you’re tearing up. “MC, are you alright?” 

all you can do is shake your head

“do you want to go home?” you nod, biting your lip as he stands up, making you feel even smaller.

he quickly packs his things into his bag and offers you a hand, helping you get up

he quickly escorts you outside, where you practically gulp for air. 

he waits patiently with you while you slowly ground yourself. 

“okay, let’s go home.” you explain sensory overload as you walk, then tell him about your autism

beel, like asmo, is very observant and he learns surprisingly fast. 

he’s also very protective of you. if someone triggers you, he won’t hesitate to tell them off before doing a grounding exercise with you

he’s basically you’re giant therapy demon and you love him for it

it’s becoming way too much. you’ve been masking heavily for months, monitoring your every move while doing your absolute best to thrive in a (literally) completely different universe than what you’re used to

you’re laying facedown on the couch, practically unable to move. you want to go to your room, but your body won’t let you

“mc?” you hear belphegor’s voice. “are you trying to imitate me?” he teases

you simply groan in response, not wanting to bother

for a moment he goes silent. then, you feel a hand on your shoulder

you jolt up, swiping his hand away as you let out a small shout. belphie’s eyes are widened in surprise

“don’t touch me! ...please,” you add as an afterthought, feeling bad for scaring him

he sits with you on the couch, taking care to leave space between the two of you. “what’s wrong?” you don’t respond. “mc?”

“burnout. too much. feel bad.”

belphie has absolutely no clue what that means, but he figures he knows something that might help.

“want to take a nap with me?”

you have to think about it before responding with a “sure” and slowly crawling into his arms (if that’s something you’re okay with)

it’s night when the two of you wake up. you still feel awful, but you can at least cope better.

once belphie’s more awake, he asks you what the hell happened

“two words: autistic shutdown”

“that doesn’t explain anything” - belphie really doesn’t know anything about humans

you do your best to explain - you were born with a brain that works a bit differently than most humans. some of the symptoms are an aversion to change and ‘odd’ behavior that’s difficult to hide. when you get too stressed, you just kinda ‘shut down’

he takes a bit to really understand, but once he does, he does his best to support you.

he falls asleep to your infodumping and you find it endearing

he gets good at recognizing when you’re starting to shut down and he always convinces you to take a break via a cuddly nap

[shu-sakamaki]

(TW : Bullying)

Random and dark headcanons about Shuu Sakamaki

If you are not comfortable with those themes please just scroll, I don't want to make anyone uneasy, it's for fiction and fantasies only, Shuu is in NO WAY meant to be portrayed in real life, he is not a good person and none of his actions are acceptable.

In which you're a bride living in the Sakamaki manor :

- His voice is really low, much lower and raspier than his voice in the anime, it just makes more sense to me because he's always sleepy and horny, sadly he's the one who speaks the less (like, sir, just keep your mouth open and never shut up 👄🔪)

- He's just so disgusted everytime Reiji come near him that he's always scrunching his nose for a split second and then furrows his brows as if he smelled something bad but it's just Reiji (🤣🤣) and four eyes get even more mad.

- If your staring at him for too long he will stare back at you and look at you up and down. Now, there's two type of look, there is the "gtfo of my face, you're burning my eyes" (which is kinda hot in its own way 👉👈) and the "I'm horny as hell, keep staring at me I will mount you, female." And I don't know how, but he notice everything, you can try and  be unnoticeable by looking at him and then looking away but when your looking back at him again, he's staring right at your soul like 👁-👁 (sir pls stop you're scaring me)

- He have bedroom eyes like, 90 % of the times, Shuu always seems to be in his own reality with his closed eyes and earphones, he somehow look zooted (on sleep and sex uhu, anyways letmeshutup)

- He's the king of side-eye, if you bother his slumber he will give you the saltiest, hottest, coldest side-eye, it'll make you tear up. My theory is that he can make people crumble with just a look. (and that's on 💫trauma💫)

- Now that we're on the subject of tears, Shuu loves them (you monster) and try a lot of things mainly out of boredom and just to randomly see you cry because why not. And him being a teaser + dacryphilia is the worst thing you can ask for. Because when the oldest lay his interest on someone, I think that the rest of the brothers kinda back off to  not make him angry (they're not suicidal gud gud) so you're just getting bullied by him and everyone is just watching.

- For example when you walk past him, he'll pinch your thighs and it always hurts so bad and leaves red/purple spots or just grab your wrist and hold it really hard till you cry and beg him to not break it. And sometimes he'll just plainly ignore you which can be worst because it's always leaving you with the impression that something's gonna fall upon you when you least expect it. (Not mister playing as the Fates) And if you try to avoid him, he's going to catch up on it pretty fast and suddenly you're seeing him everywhere and he's not going to limit his torture to the manor, even in school he will find ways to terrorize you. He will say the lewdest, dirtiest things to you like its nothing or will just sneak up on you and touch your butt in the hall. (You need to keep an eye on him like the bogeyman). It's just a game for him, he's bored and you're the perfect prey to toy with.

- Yeah also he doesn't care about consent... just like the rest of his demonic gremlins of brothers, resisting him just makes it more fun for him. But if you are actually getting aggressive like pulling his hair, slapping him or scratching his skin he'll put out his knife (he gon look at you like dis 🔵👄🔵🔪) and will threatens to kill you really slowly. A thing about his knife, is that admin once said that he's carrying it everywhere, so he can just pull it out of idk where and rub it on your skin, threatening silently to slit your throat at any moment. There is always that one kid who like to draw on people's arms with a marker in school, Shuu does the same with his knife, you have little cuts here and there because of him.

- He's manipulative and merciless, you can pour your heart out to him and tell him how something just broke you and he's gonna look at you like "and what does it got to do with me?" or just fall asleep on you. He picks a lot on your insecurities just because he knows where it hurts (he doesn't really think it, he don't care lol) and will talk to you with such a mocking/condescending tone, as if your stupid and its not like you can complain about it.

- Shuu appears at the most random times and just ask you to do things that HE'S supposed to do. And you can either do your thing and he won't care or be bothered that you disobeyed and will punish you. Admin mentioned it often, how one of the scariest thing with Shuu is the unlimited feeling of uncertainty, you really never know. One day he's cool with you and the other he's not.

- Remember when Shuu talked about seduction ? He said that its the difference between him and Laito. Laito thrives off people's fear and disgust of him and he will force himself upon them, and with Laito, you're mainly scared of him. But with Shuu, there is something quite exciting about him being around you and just giving you his attention. (Idk how to explain it, it's the Shuu Effect 🦋) Sometimes you can even feel like you have a choice, when you really don't. He's guilt-tripping you a lot of the time and you don't realize it sometimes and think that it's your decision, but honey...

- When he starts to get use to you, use to you taking care of him and use to your presence that's when the trickiest part comes up. He can either, get bored of you so he'll probably leave you alone giving green signals to his brothers to do whatever they want (or he kills you) or he's falling in love.

- You know that he's falling in love with you when he's more around you to the point when he's the only face that you're seeing and his brothers are just avoiding you like the plague, everyone does, it's like, even humans have a gut feeling that being around you won't bring them good because of the scary demon behind you. (Well if you listen to him it's more of a "You're the one obsessed with me and not the opposite" but yk), he's going to insult you every ten seconds because you looked at an alive being "I'm not looking at you for ten seconds and you're already whoring yourself out ? Pathetic." (But really, it's the poSseSsiViTy), I can also see him as being more touchy in a way but it varies, it don't necessarily mean that Shuu would go tender on you.

- He built a wall around him (like attack on titan type of wall duh, Wall Maria I see you 🙄) to block and repulse any being who wants to be close to him, so when he realizes that he's falling in love with you (and hard because Shuu don't have the concept of limit) he will probably get scared and would try to back off, scare you, being even more brutal because he need to know, need to be sure, how willing you are to be with him. He can't handle a deception and also I feel like he is pretty aware of his mental state and he is deeply scared of losing you and losing himself completely in the same boat.

- When he starts to really care for you, I think that he will start to have nightmares again, especially about Edgar and other stuff involving you because how scared he is. Which bring me to an article that admin about Shuu mastering aftercare, it's 100% logic that he's with you and whispering sweet nothing till he sure that you are safe and asleep with him.

- When his shell starts to crack, it's when he's going to be as his probably most vulnerable state when you can just see how much the paranoia, the possessivity and all the trauma cloud his mind. He will still try to test you for some time and just kinda...still observing like a predator (but with more of a lovesick turn) till he's certain that you will not betray him. And don't take it personally, that's just how he is, everything has been taken away from him, all the happiness, all the color were sucked out of his life, and when there is a real opportunity of getting this happiness back he doesn't play. Literally, Shuu can not handle losing someone important again or he will go full-on Kanato insane. That's why he drown himself in sex and sleep, to not think, that's why he always have sound in his earbuds, to not hear the silence. Its not Shuu's fault that Edgar is dead, it's not his fault if the German shepherd got killed, it's not his fault if his mother didn't took care of his brother, but he'll still take the blame. (Well maybe not for Reiji but you get it.)

Thanks to everyone who manages to read it through and have a good day and remember that you're loved and worthy ❤😌

((I honestly LOVE how you emphasize the canon aspect that Shu has NO LIMITS. Or he LOVES you to the point of obsession, or no deal. That IS Shu... And I'm scared about the person I'm becoming but the ones about how scary he actually is while statically staring at you?... Was hot... O///O ???))

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Three’s Company

Summary: Naomi goes to lunch with the newest member of the diagnostic’s team.

A/N: Listen, I will not rest until Tobias and Ethan are friends again.

~v~

“It’s not going to be as bad as you’re making it out to be, Ethan. Above all else, Tobias Carrick is a doctor and a professional.”

Ethan resists the urge to roll his eyes at his girlfriend. This situation isn’t her fault, and it’s not like Naomi can help the fact that she’s optimistic. He still huffs under his breath though. “Being a doctor isn’t synonymous with being a professional. Trust me, Tobias is nothing of the sort.”

The news of Tobias Carrick not only coming to Edenbrook but also joining the diagnostics team hasn’t been well received. On top of a pretty tense exchange between Bloom and Ethan, Harper also made it known that she wasn’t a fan, thankfully not as outwardly as Ethan had.

Naomi however, has remained neutral. She doesn’t have history with Tobias like Harper and Ethan do, only knowing him through their biased second hand accounts. Ethan grumbled that he’s arrogant–though the same can be said about him as well–and selfish, but Naomi isn’t one to judge someone without knowing them. And besides, he pitched in to help save her last year, so for the time being, Tobias Carrick has a few brownie points with her.

“You’re being dramatic. He’s been a doctor as long as you have, he went to the same prestigious medical school that you did–”

“He graduated at number two,” Ethan interjects.

At that dig, Naomi huffs. “You’re being ridiculous. And petty, for no reason.”

“Bloom went over our heads and hired him, so I’m automatically suspicious. I apologize for not believing this wasn’t done specifically to annoy me.”

Naomi can concede to it being a bit suspicious, but she isn’t going to admit to this conspiracy of all roads leading back to Ethan. She’s not going to needlessly feed into his ego and rile him up.

The two of them continue their trek throughout the halls of Edenbrook in silence, their fingers loosely interlocked the entire way there. Naomi revels in it, because she knows it’s the calm before the storm.

Before they cross the threshold to the office, Naomi stops Ethan in his tracks. She cranes her head back so they can look each other in the eye. “Listen, like it or not, Tobias is here, and until he does something that warrants your hostility, at least be cordial. Our patients don’t deserve us at anything less than our best.”

Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose, and silently counts to three, attempting to steel himself.

“Fine.”

“Thank you.” Raising their joined hands, Naomi brushes a fleeting kiss across his knuckles. “Now stop pouting, Ramsey, we have work to do.”

Ethan untangles their hands only to open the door for Naomi. Once she steps inside she’s greeted with the sight of Tobias fiddling with Ethan’s coffee maker. He looks and flashes them a sly smile. “Mornin’, lovebirds! Ready to get to diagnosing?”

Ethan flashes Naomi a quick look. This is going to be a long day indeed.

~v~

So Tobias’s first day with the team wasn’t smooth sailing like Naomi wanted. Ethan and Harper made it clear that his former friend and roommate wasn’t wanted anywhere near the team, whether it be through passive aggressive eye rolls, thinly-veiled exasperated sighs, or outright aggression via Ethan that spiraled into a tense argument. Naomi remained neutral, corralling all of the attention back to the task at hand: helping their patient.

Naomi isn’t interested in spending another day babysitting these grown adults, so hopefully day 2 is a lot more smooth.

And so far, she seems to be getting her wish. Morning tasks were distributed without a fight, and after their morning huddle, Harper went downstairs to prep for a surgery she has coming up later. The remaining 3 members of the team are all in their own little corners of the office, Ethan typing away on his laptop, Tobias lounging on the couch, and Naomi sitting at their large desk, a pile of books and printed copies of online articles all spread out in front of her.

The words are all starting to blur together, her focus slipping away with each second that ticks on. Being in the office isn’t doing anything for her creativity or brainstorming power. She needs a break.

Naomi closes her textbook and pushes out of her seat, tired of studying. She makes her way over to Ethan’s desk, observing his hunched shoulders and the deep line between his brows. She rounds his desk until she’s standing directly in his line of vision. “You know what? I think it’s time to take a break. How about you and I get out of here and get something to eat?”

Ethan tears his eyes away from his computer screen long enough to look at Naomi. He frowns softly. “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to take a raincheck. On top of the actual work I have to do for this team, Leland is demanding that I put together a presentation for the board meeting at the end of the week.”

“About what?”

“About the team. Cost versus benefit, outcomes, methodology, etc. Basically, he wants me to sell the diagnostics team to him all over again.”

“Sucks to be the boss at times?”

“De facto boss,” Ethan corrects. “Remember, this team is supposed to be a democracy now. Anyway, I want to get this presentation done as quickly as I can so I can stop thinking about it.”

“I could go for some lunch,” the third person in the room speaks up. Naomi and Ethan both turn around and see Tobias staring back at them. “Oh sorry, am I interrupting the private conversation the two of you are trying to have in our communal workspace?”

“What do you want, Carrick?”

Tobias’s eyes bounce back and forth between the couple. “Naomi wants to escape these four walls and get food. You aren’t available, and I am.” He shrugs. “What are you in the mood for, Valentine? I could go for some Italian, and there’s a good place a few blocks from here.”

“She’s not going to lunch with you,” Ethan grits out possessively. 

Naomi’s head whips around faster than she can stop herself. Since when did he get to make decisions on her behalf, especially when it’s not work related?

A small smirk settles on Tobias’s face. Naomi’s physical response to Ethan’s declaration does not go unnoticed by him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know your name was also Naomi Valentine. Whatever the case, I wasn’t speaking to you.”

“Naomi doesn’t–”

“Naomi doesn’t need an advocate to speak on her behalf because she’s an adult,” Naomi interjects sharply.

Whether she wants to accept or decline Tobias’s invitation to lunch, it’s her decision to make, not Ethan’s. His tumultuous relationship with Tobias is not her burden to bear, and he’s not going to force it upon her.

And just to prove it to him, Naomi turns around, her full attention back on Tobias, eyes alight with defiance. “You know what? Italian sounds delicious.”

~v~

20 minutes later, the unlikely duo is nestled into a corner booth of the Italian restaurant Tobias suggested. It’s a nice family owned joint that is currently experiencing a lunch rush. Every inch of the place is bustling with activity, the aromatic smell of sautéed garlic fills the air, soft music playing in the background. And while Naomi has yet to try the food, the restaurant is warm and inviting, and she likes it.

“You know, I’m really shocked you decided to take me up on my offer,” Tobias says, cutting into Naomi’s silent appraisal of their surroundings.

“I wasn’t going to turn down a free meal,” Naomi responds smoothly.

“A free meal?”

“Of course. You invited yourself, so you’re paying, Dr. Carrick. I’m thinking of ordering dessert, too.”

An easygoing smile tugs at the corners of her mouth as she speaks, and Tobias laughs. “I meant it because loverboy wasn’t too happy with it.”

“As much as I respect Ethan’s opinions on things, they don’t dictate my life. His issues with you have nothing to do with me, and if you think you can use me as a pawn to piss him off further, I’d advise you to think again.”

This young woman is brazen and full of sass. Tobias likes it. “It wasn’t my intention, I swear. It’s no secret that I’m not a welcomed member of the team, and you happen to be the only one who doesn’t roll your eyes or sneer whenever I speak. You are the closest thing I have to an...acquaintance, I guess.”

Naomi’s defenses deflate slightly at his shocking display of earnestness. She was expecting some display of bravado from the attending, so this has thrown her for a loop.

Tobias is nervous. She picks up on that energy almost instantly.

“Well like I said, their issues with you have nothing to do with me. I try to give everyone a fair shake.”

“I can respect that.”

“But in the interest of said fair shake, you have to answer a question for me. What are you doing here?”

“Here, in this restaurant?”

“At Edenbrook,” Naomi clarifies. “Kenmore is a level one trauma center, it was saved from getting snuffed out when it merged with Solomon, you guys stole my research candidate which brought in a lot of grant money. You had a decent gig there, so why did you come to Edenbrook? Why did you accept a position on Ethan’s team?”

Tobias shrugs. “I hit my threshold at Kenmore. I was at the top of the food chain, I had seen everything there was to see, done everything there was to do. I was...bored and restless. Edenbrook got injected with new blood, everything is new and exciting. Bloom said he wanted to take the team to new heights, and he offered me more money than I know what to do with to be a part of the vision.”

“Okay so who’s to say you’ll be satisfied just being a member of the team? How do I know you won’t attempt to stage a coup and take Ethan’s position?”

“Relax, sweetheart, I’m not gunning for your boyfriend’s spot.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart. There’s no need to be condescending.”

“I apologize. But Ethan’s spot on the team is safe. I don’t need Leland breathing down my neck and micromanaging me the way he does Ethan.”

Naomi’s eyes roam his face. He doesn’t have any tells, no eye shifting or twitching, no sudden movements with his hands or mouth, he doesn’t fidget in his seat. She has no reason to believe he’s lying, so she takes him at his word. “Okay.”

“Any other burning questions?”

“Why aren’t you and Ethan friends?”

Tobias doesn’t immediately answer, opting to take his sweet time to think on it. He pulls his lip in-between his teeth, before shrugging. “We’re too similar. Too driven, too ambitious, too stubborn. Two people can only go on the same path for so long before a collision happens.”

“It got ugly because you two wanted the same girl?”

Tobias scoffs. The faceless woman that he was adamant that he was in love with is at the bottom of his list of concerns. “She was just the tip of the iceberg.”

That manages to catch her interest. Naomi sits up in her seat and leans forward slightly. “So what happened?”

Naomi can see the exact moment that Tobias withdraws from the conversation. His posture gets stiff again and he averts his gaze.

“Okay, riddle me this, Carrick,” Naomi continues. “Ethan told me he reached out to you after you had your falling out, but you rebuffed him. Is that part true?”

“He called and asked if we could talk, I said no. I didn’t hear from him again until everything happened with Leland last year.”

“You didn’t want to make amends?”

Making amends and having his old friend back did sound nice once upon a time, but being friends with Ethan again means being in his shadow again. And that’s what led them to this whole thing in the first place. Tobias sighs and scrubs his hand across his jaw. He came here to eat a plate of ravioli and maybe annoy Ethan, not pour his heart out. What is it about Naomi Valentine and those big brown eyes of hers that makes him want to twist himself inside out and spill his guts? Is she some sort of siren?

“Making amends means I’d have to own up to my wrongdoings. I’d have to swallow the fact that I torpedoed our friendship,” Tobias confesses before he even realizes the words are out of his mouth. “Admitting fault and being vulnerable isn’t my strong suit.”

She doesn’t mean to, but Naomi giggles. And that giggle turns into a laugh. A loud one that attracts the attention of a few patrons, a hard feat to accomplish in the middle of a bustling restaurant, but she does it with ease.

“I’m sorry,” Naomi says once she finally calms down. She takes a deep breath before continuing. “God, no wonder you two were best friends. You are just as emotionally constipated as Ethan.”

“Emotionally constipated?” Tobias’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline at the blunt statement. And once the shock wears off, he laughs along with. “Touché, Valentine. Touché.”

~v~

Across the way, at the bar on the other side of the dining room, Ethan watches as his girlfriend and his former friend carry on like two bosom buddies. 

Ethan decided to follow them approximately 10 minutes after they left, sheer curiosity getting the better of him. Before he could stop himself, he was in his car and at the restaurant, seated far enough away from them so he’s out of their line of vision, but close enough to see.

Naomi is in the zone, talking excitedly and Tobias sits there, soaking it all up like what she says and does is gospel. Their friendly interaction stirs irritation in the pit of his stomach, but it’s when Naomi lets out a boisterous laugh does he reach his limit. Ethan’s grip on the small tumbler in his hand tightens, and it’s a miracle he doesn’t end up with a million tiny shards of glass in his palm.

What on earth has Tobias said to make Naomi laugh like that? And why is he laughing with her?

Ethan doesn’t like it one bit, for a multitude of reasons. He doesn’t like other men being around Naomi–it’s ridiculous and sexist of him to feel this way, but Ethan is a possessive caveman, and he makes no bones about it. Seeing her actually laughing with Carrick of all people and enjoying his company makes him want to throw the drink ware he’s currently holding.

Deciding enough is enough, Ethan slams the glass down onto the bar and stands up. After dropping a $20 bill on the counter he makes his way over to Naomi and Tobias, unadulterated jealousy and alcohol fueling every step.

Tobias notices him first, and he jerks his head in Ethan’s general direction in order to get Naomi’s attention. She turns around and her eyes go wide at the sight of Ethan.

“Ethan? What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood.”

Now her eyes are narrowed. “You finished that big presentation you had to work on?”

Ethan sniffs haughtily. Leave it to her to throw that back in his face. “I decided that a break was okay.”

“And you coincidentally ended up at this restaurant?”

“Yup.”

Naomi stands up, muttering a quick “excuse me,” in Tobias’s direction and grabs Ethan’s hand, pulling him away. They nestle into a quiet corner of the restaurant, far away from the table, closer to the kitchen. The door constantly swings open and closed, as the waitstaff goes in and out.

Once they get a moment of quiet, Naomi glares at Ethan, the expression on her face nothing short of annoyed. “Are you spying on me? Because spying on me implies that you don’t trust me.”

“What? Of course I trust you!”

“So what are you doing here, Ethan?”

Ethan bites the inside of his cheek and rocks on the balls of his feet. “Okay, so I was spying.” Naomi opens her mouth to say something, but Ethan beats her to the punch. “It’s not because I don’t trust you! It’s him that I don’t trust.”

“Tobias has been nothing short of a gentleman,” Naomi says and Ethan snorts. “He’s acting a lot of a lot more mature than you are, I can say that much.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No, what’s not fair is you treating him like he’s a criminal when he’s given you no reason to do so.”

“He’s given me plenty of reason, Naomi!”

“The last time we saw Tobias, I was near death and he helped save my life,” Naomi says, and that’s more than enough to get Ethan to shut up.

Ethan’s heart slams against his rib cage with enough force to make him think the organ is trying to leave his body. Months have passed since the assassination attempt, but the mention of it is enough to cause Ethan to go into a panic.

“And the time before that, we stole a patient right out from under him, and before that we got into a fight at a freaking hospital softball game,” Naomi continues. “You haven’t been all good, and he hasn’t been all bad, so stop pretending to have the moral high ground.”

“This past year, you made a lot of strides in your personal life. You battled a lot with your mom, but you came out of it, a more well rounded individual, so do not let Tobias’s presence cause you to backslide. I’m not saying he has to be your best friend, but I refuse to tolerate this type of nonsense past today.”

He takes a moment to digest what she’s saying, begrudgingly of course because he doesn’t really want to admit that he hasn’t been behaving like the mature, adult professional that he usually is.

Ethan nods and places a kiss on Naomi’s forehead, his lips lingering there.

“Are you listening to me?”

Ethan kisses the apples of her cheeks, inwardly smirking as he feels Naomi smile. “I promise you that I’ll keep myself in check from now on.”

“And if you don’t, I will.”

The threat causes Ethan to lose focus. She clearly doesn’t mean it in a seductive way, but he can’t help that his brain instantly goes to the gutter when she’s involved. Now he wants nothing more than to be alone with her, with any flat surface readily available.

“Yes ma’am,” Ethan murmurs before capturing her lips with his own.

Naomi doesn’t allow herself to get swept up in the kiss, because she knows Ethan is using it to distract her. She untangles herself from his grip and pulls away before he’s able to get any more leverage.

“Can we go back to the office now?” Ethan asks.

“Absolutely not. I came here to have lunch, so we’re having lunch.”

Ethan frowns. “You still want to go through with this?”

“I didn’t come here to teach you a lesson, and I’m actually enjoying Tobias’s company, so I’m staying. And you’re staying here too.”

“No.”

“You followed me here, you don’t have a choice.”

Ethan reluctantly follows Naomi back to the table, where Tobias is studying the menu. He doesn’t even look up when he hears footsteps approaching. “I’m debating on if I want the ravioli or the chicken parm, which one–” his voice falters as he sees Ethan.

“Look who’s decided to join us for lunch!” Naomi says brightly, steamrolling over the building tension. She pushes Ethan into an empty chair, not giving him a second to turn away.

Tobias opens his mouth to object, “But–”

“I’m going to head to the restroom,” Naomi says. “And one of you guys is ordering me a limoncello, because Tobias is treating.”

She flounces off, not giving either man a chance to respond or argue with her.

Tobias laughs. “Is she always like this? So bossy?”

“Naomi is unapologetically assertive,” Ethan corrects. “She makes no bones about it.”

“The scary part about it is I’m 100 percent going to order her a limoncello, because she’s not the type of person you say no to.”

This time it’s Ethan’s turn to laugh. It’s nice to know he’s not the only unsuspecting sap that cannot say no when Naomi turns on her charm.

Once the laughter tapers off, the former friends are plunged into silence. Ethan checks the time on his watch, watching the seconds stretch on. He needs Naomi to come back. Seriously, how long does it take to use the restroom? He spares a quick glance at Tobias, who’s pointedly not making eye contact with him either.

Eventually Tobias speaks up, “Look, I didn’t come to Edenbrook to cause any trouble. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity that came with more money than I could count.”

“Naveen started this team with the most honorable of intentions,” Ethan says. “This was his life’s work, and he entrusted me with it. You cannot possibly understand the loyalty I have to him, so forgive me if I’m extremely protective over it and skeptical of your motives, which haven’t always been pure.”

“I’m just here to save lives, and work on the most fascinating medical cases of our generation. I know how important this team is, and I’d never intentionally disrespect Naveen like that.”

Ethan nods. That’s all he can really ask of Tobias. “Then I guess we’re good.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

Another beat of silence passes and Tobias awkwardly drums his fingers along the stem of his water glass. “So...you and Valentine?”

The question is out of left field and Ethan’s brows furrow in confusion. “Uh, yeah, me and Valentine.”

“I like her,” Tobias says definitively. When Ethan glares at him, Tobias rolls his eyes. “Not like that. Relax, I get it loud and clear that she’s off limits. Besides, I know you’re head over heels in love with her.”

A scarlet flush creeps up Ethan’s neck at Tobias’s matter of fact declaration. “Love? I’m...we don’t...I don’t–”

Tobias smirks. “Oh man. You’ve got it bad.”

That much, Ethan is willing to share. “Yeah, I do.”

“Naomi did say we’re both emotionally constipated, and that blubbering you just did proves her point,” Tobias teases. “But don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

The L-word has floated around in the back of Ethan’s mind for months, but he’s always been able to squash it down, locking it away in the deepest recesses of his brain. But hearing someone else say it is something entirely different. Ethan can’t run away from the thought.

Tobias has known since last year. He suspected something when Ethan came to defense during the softball game, but it was confirmed as soon as he saw them together after the incident with the senator. He had never seen Ethan so out of sorts, not even when they competed for the affections of the same woman back in school. Naomi is different. She has the power to bring Ethan to his knees.

“I hope you know that you’re punching way above your weight with that one,” Tobias adds teasingly.

It’s something Ethan thinks about constantly. Naomi could do so much better than him, but every day she chooses him. “Absolutely.”

“And for what it’s worth, she’s just as much into you. The woman gives you heart eyes whenever you’re around. It’s disgusting, to be quite frank.”

The sentence warms Ethan from the inside out. He’ll never get over knowing Naomi wants him just as much as he wants her.

Thankfully Naomi chooses that moment to come back to the table, giving the men something else to focus their attention on. She settles into a seat next to Ethan, and he immediately wraps an arm around her, his fingertips stroking her arm. Tobias observes the fleeting moment of intimacy with a private smile.

Naomi’s eyes flicker back and forth between the men. “Everything okay over here?”

Tobias and Ethan both look at each other, a silent moment of understanding passing between them. Ethan nods. “Everything is fine.”

Naomi smiles. Maybe there’s hope for them yet. “Good. Now let’s flag down a waiter and get some food.”

~v~

Tags: @mvalentine @choicesaddict5 @professorkingslay @maurine07 @aka-calliope @bluebellot @whimsicallywayward15 @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @jamespotterthefirst @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @paulfwesley @the-pale-goddess @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramseyx @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @blainehellyes @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @caseyvalentineramsey @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey

[tojitiddies]

✰ [GHOST] BUSTING MAKES ME FEEL GOOD

pairing ⋆ connie springer x fem!reader

synopsis ⋆ you don’t know who’s crazier. your ghost hunting boyfriend or you for even dating him.

warnings ⋆ paranormal encounters, slight ghost coercion, oral sex, vaginal sex, creampie

ꔵ there was no doubt about it, your boyfriend connie was an oddball. like tin hat wearing, crazy conspiracist, dark reddit forum odd. his friends often asked him how he’d bagged a chick like you in the first place and honestly you were curious too. you’d met him at a halloween party your best friend mikasa had thrown. one wild night and two awkward dates later you both became that sickeningly sweet couple that everyone hated to love.

at this point in your relationship you had grown used to connie’s random 3AM messages about some spooky forum he’d found or him sending random true crime articles he wanted you to read. he and his roomates jean and sasha all ran a somewhat popular youtube channel — they called themselves “the phantom philosophers” — where they covered different cryptid and ghost stories sent to them by viewers. they also went on numerous ghost hunts to try and speak or communicate with ghosts. you were always curious about your boyfriend’s odd way of life and even appeared on one of his streams once — his subscribers couldn’t believe he had a girlfriend. so, when connie asked you if you wanted to come along with him, jean, and sasha for a ghost hunt you jumped at the opportunity.

that’s exactly how you found yourself in front of an abandoned church while your boyfriend and his friends began setting up their equipment. tonight they were looking for the ghost of a pastor who secretly ran his own brothel beneath the church. one of the women had turned on him and murdered him while they were having sex. the story seemed completely made up, but connie assured you it was legit.

you watched as connie started setting up his body camera and clipping it to his jacket. “so...anything i can help with?” you asked, rocking back on the heels of your sneakers. connie looked up at you as if he’d forgotten you were there. “huh? oh, no babe you’re fine. just stand there looking pretty.” he replied sweetly. you forced a smile towards him, letting it falter when he went back to messing with his equipment. you had only agreed to this because you wanted to spend time with him, but this entire trip he’d been so distracted. you were so used to having his attention all the time, it was starting to take you out of the mood.

you decided to go find out what sasha was doing. she had a boyfriend too, niccolo. he was really nice and an amazing cook. earlier you’d asked her why he didn’t come with you all, to which she told you that niccolo was secretly a huge fraidy cat. when you approached her she was sitting in the trunk of jean’s pick up. she seemed to be really focused on...some sort of device? “what’s that?” you queried, sitting next to her. sasha beamed and shoved it into your lap. “this, my friend, is a modernized proton pack like the ghostbusters use! i’ve been engineering this baby for a couple months now and this is gonna be its first field run!” she squeals as she begins to point out all the functions and uses of the device. it looked sort of like a portable cd player.

while sasha babbled on about her “precious baby” jean and connie approached you both, equipment and cameras ready. “here you are ____.” jean presented you with a headlamp and a frequency tuner. “now first rule of ghost hunting, do not be on your own. you’re always gonna want a buddy. i’m assuming connie will fill that role?” he asked, looking between the two of you. you were still annoyed with him but you nodded anyway. you’d bring it up when the two of you were alone. “alright then. sasha you’re with me. and don’t even think about trying to spook me this time, i took self defense lessons and i’ll definitely clock you this time.” he scolded, to which sasha responded by rolling her eyes. “oh please, it was just a joke pony boy.” she taunted. jean shot her a glare. “keep it up.” he warned before turning back to you.

“second rule, do not under any circumstances curse a ghost. not only will that anger the ghost and make it mad at you, it will also get mad at everyone else and we don’t want any part of your beef. so keep it to yourself.” it was your turn to roll your eyes. “jean you don’t need to mansplain ghost hunting to me, i’m not stupid. plus i watch you guys’ channel all the time.” you say, sliding off the truck and situating the headlamp on. “i’m ready to get to some ghostbustin!” sasha hops up and high fives you. connie laughs and wraps his arm around your waist. “ah don’t worry jean, i’ll be with her the whole time.” jean stares blankly between the three of you before shaking his head.

“whatever. connie go ahead and start your body cam. it’s time to head in.” connie chuckles at jean’s annoyance and switches on the camera, a small red light peeps out to signal it’s recording. jean has one on as well, tapping his slightly to test it out. “alright gang, buckle up. i’m trying to meet a horny ghost.” he said with a grin, beginning his march into the church, the three of you following close behind.

ꔵ inside the church it was dusty and reeked of mildew. you pinched your nose as you and the others switched on your headlights. “jesus christ, it fucking stinks.” connie remarks. sasha elbows him in the rib. “dude we’re in a haunted church, you can’t take the lord’s name in vain.” she scolds him before crossing her shoulders in silent prayer. you giggle as connie rolls his eyes at sasha’s ridiculous antics. a strong gust of wind blows through the church, causing the front entrance to slam shut. you shriek, grabbing ahold of connie’s arm while sasha laughs at your frightened behavior. “don’t worry ____, ‘s just the wind.” connie reassures you, rubbing your shoulder.

“alright guys enough fucking around. it’s time to split up and cover more ground.” jean says, taking charge. “sasha, you and i are gonna explore the chapel and the pastor’s office. connie and ____, you both are going down to the abandoned brothel in the basement.” he instructs. connie groans and folds his arms. “seriously? that’s probably where his ghost is hiding.” connie complains. you tense up at that. it was only your first ghost hunt and they were sending you right into the fire. “that’s the point dumbass? sasha and i will be up here gathering frequencies and seeing if we can find any phantom residue. if you two can get in contact with the pastor, we can probably record his frequencies from up here to listen back later.” he explains.

sasha pulls some weird tool from her fanny pack, holding it up. “this is mission is perfect for using my tuning fork! i’ve been wanting to try this for ages.” she squeals, her voice echoing through the church. “damn sasha, lower your voice.” jean mutters, to which she responds with another giggle mumbling out a quiet “sorry”. jean looks back to the two of you. “well we have our assignments, lets get this show on the road my fellow philosophers.” jean salutes you both and opens the doors to the chapel, sasha waves and follows after him before shutting the door behind them. “jerk.” connie mutters under his breath. you squeeze his hand and smile up at him.

“c’mon connie, i wanna see my boyfriend bust some ghosts.” you say, hoping to cheer him up a little. connie nodded, barely acknowledging your attempt before starting to head off towards the doors leading to the basement. “alright babe, stick close. i have no idea what’s down here.” he instructed. you hummed in disinterest and began to follow him in his descent. amazing! astonishing even! you were practically throwing yourself at him, yet your boyfriend was still more interested in some stinky old pastor ghost. as you traveled deeper downstairs, the air around you began to get warmer like a stuffy room. by the time you’d gotten down to the basement there was a humid temperature surrounding you.

“is it to supposed to feel so warm down here?” you asked, taking connie’s hand to be as close as possible to him. connie whipped his head around the basement floor shining his headlamp on all the different doors. “you would think it’d be cold with all this concrete, it’s weird.” he finally answered, switching on his frequency tuner. you followed his movements and did the same. “good weird or bad weird?” you asked again, growing a bit concerned. connie shrugged before making his way towards one of the doors, his frequency tuner picking up. you glared at him, having had enough of his nonchalant attitude.

seduce him.

you blinked as the thought came from seemingly nowhere. you shook your head, deciding to ignore it. you watched connie peak into the room that was making his frequency tuner go off the wire, letting out a gasp. “____! you’ve gotta come see this!” he exclaims, grinning back at you before making his way inside. you follow after him, curious to see what surprised him so much that he actually acknowledged your existence. when you stepped inside you were surprised to find the room...spotless? there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere. the decorative rugs and tapestries that hung on the walls created an erotic atmosphere. the large bed looked clean and comfortable as well, an oil lamp sitting on the bedside. “i thought this church was abandoned, who’s doing the upkeep?” you observed, still taken aback by the surprisingly clean and crisp room. connie pressed his hand down on the bed, feeling it out. “no idea. even the mattress and blankets feel fresh.” he marveled.

seduce him and gain his favors!

this time the thought echoed louder through your head, making you feel a bit lightheaded. your knees buckled causing you to drop down to the floor. connie whipped his head around in shock, instantly rushing to see if you were alright. “you okay baby?” he asked, concern lacing his words. you nodded and took his hand to help you stand back up. almost as instantly as you were back on your feet you felt the pressure in your head drop to your chest and then to your arousal. you let out a small whimper at the sudden wave of pleasure that came out of nowhere. connie pressed the back of his hand to your forehead, his touch felt like lightning.

“are you sure you’re okay? maybe we should — “ the door to the bedroom slammed shut behind you, but you didn’t really care. all you could think about was satisfying the sudden hunger that had come over you. connie jiggled the doorknob trying to get the door back open, curses spilling out of his lips. you sauntered up behind him, snaking your arms around his waist, swirling them up to lay your hands on his pecs. “wha — ____?” he turned his head to his shoulder, trying to get a view of you. you giggled and kissed his shoulder. “awh baby, we can stay in here and get comfy.” you whine, pressing yourself against him. connie tensed up in your embrace, caught off guard by your sudden switch in attitude. the oil lamp beside the bed flickered on, casting the room in a warm dim orange glow. connie grabbed your hands and snatched them off his chest. he spun around to face you, cupping your face in his hands.

“____, hey get ahold of yourself!” he tried snapping you out of it, his fingers popping between your eyes. you leaned up and kissed him under his chin. “i want you to get ahold of me.” you murmured, grabbing his wrists to place his hands on your waist. you batted your eyelashes at him with those puppy dog eyes you knew he couldn’t resist. connie gulped, his hand hands instinctively squeezing around your waist. “y-you’re not yourself, this isn’t right.” he muttered under his breath, more so talking to himself.

you snaked your arms up and around his shoulders walking back into the bed, flipping around to push him into the bed. “you made me very upset, ignoring me all night for your dumb ghost hunt.” you said, planting yourself in his lap, running your thumb along his lips. “how are you going to make it up to me?” connie frowns furrowing his brows. you don’t even wait for him to answer before letting your head fall to the side, kissing over the expanse of his neck.

connie shivered, falling prey to your advances. you snatched off both your headlamps in a playful demeanor while your other hand trailed down to the seat of his pants, letting your fingers splay out across his crotch. “____…w-wait a moment.” he breathed, letting out a slight moan when you squeezed your hand around his clothed length. you giggled softly, slithering from his thigh to between his legs. you nudged his crotch with your nose, looking back at up at him. his face was flushed and his eyes were glazed over with lust. that was all the indication you needed to begin to undoing his jeans.

your mind was clouded with thoughts of your boyfriend fucking your mouth and praising you with all the attention you’d yearned for. you pulled down his pants and boxers, licking your lips at his erect cock, leaking with precum. taking your thumb to his tip, you gently began to spread around the sticky substance. your tongue darted out to kitten lick the little mess you made, leaving connie hissing and squirming. “you’re such a tease.” he grunted. you grinned up at him knowingly before tilting your head to kiss along the length of his shaft.

connie desperately bucked his hips slightly as your kisses became wet and suctioning. done teasing him, you eagerly wrapped your lips around him sucking his tip before bobbing your head further. your tongue swirled around his shaft expertly, causing him to groan and buck his hips. you moan as his cock travels further down your throat, the vibrations of your voice stimulating him further.

“fuck baby…keep sucking me in just like that.” he huffs out, trying to keep his moans from pitching. his hands nestle in your hair, bringing your head down further. you relaxed your jaw as he continued to fuck your mouth, saliva collecting and dripping down your chin. connie bucked his hips into your mouth with fervor, you could tell he was close. “your throat feels so fucking good around me, keep swallowing me down just like that.” he praised, letting his head fall back against his shoulders.

he takes another deep thrust before you feel him spill his thick warm release down your throat. his cock twitches on your tongue as you slowly drag his length from your mouth. connie sits breathless on the bed, panting from the climax he’d just had, but you weren’t finished. you rose back up to your feet and stripped off your jeans and panties before crawling on top of him. with your hands slowly lifting your shirt over your head, you ground your wet cunt against the underside of his length.

connie stared up at you, his daze apparent on his face. “my turn.” you whisper, kissing the side of his mouth. you raised your hips slightly positioning his cock at your entrance before sinking down. you whimpered as you felt him filling you up all at once. connie took ahold of your hips, hissing as you clenched around him. “shit…your pussy loves sucking me in.” he groaned, bucking his hips again.

you whine, rocking your hips back against him. “it’s because i wanna feel you, right here.” you move your hand to your lower stomach, where you wanted to feel connie push against. connie smirked, lifting his knees up on and raising you up to hover over him slightly. “i can do that for you baby.” he growled into your ear before rapidly thrusting his cock into you. you grabbed ahold of his shoulders as he bucked into you, trying to keep your balance.

connie kept his word, fucking you balls deep with no mercy. you were so overwhelmed by pleasure you didn’t realize how loud you’d become. the oil lamp flickered as connie swiftly switched positions so you were on your back. he pushed your thighs back exposing your wet cunt that gaped for connie’s cock. he smirked and spit against you clit rising a whine from your throat. he chuckled cruelly before burying his cock back inside of you, his thrusts causing you to lurch up against the bed.

you clawed your hands over his his shoulder blades as he fucked you deep. “you feel so good, don’t stop!” you moan, arching you back as he hits your sweet spot. connie groaned from the way. you squeezed around him before leaning down to kiss you, his tongue swirling around yours. the sinful noises that came from between you both, echoing through the room. connie moved his lips across your jaw, praising you as he kissed and sucked your skin. you dazedly let your head fall to the side.

then you saw him.

a young man dressed in preachers robes, watching you both intently. you cried out clinging to connie — connie assumed it was a moan and continued to fuck into you. the preacher grinned at you and faded from your eyesight. just then connie let out a grunt. “shit baby, i’m gonna cum.” you were too dumbfounded to respond but it didn’t matter. connie had already grabbed your waist, pulling you down on his cock faster. the movement shocked you out of your mindstate, making you forget about the whole “pervy preacher ghost in the corner of the room” thing.

“fuck connie keep going!” you whine, your hand coming to grab your tits to keep them from bouncing out of your bra. connie fucked you like that until your legs became jelly and you creamed all over his cock. just as you were catching your breath connie came inside you, spilling his thick seed all over your walls. connie collapsed into your chest taking deep breaths.

“shit.” he breathed out, his hand squeezing your waist. “you okay baby?” he asked, tilting his head back to look at you. you smiled and nodded, massaging his short silvery hair. connie seemed to have a thought of realization and frowned. “i’m sorry ____. i should’ve done more to make you feel like i wanted you here. i must’ve looked like such an asshole. i was so focused on busting ghosts, i forgot the most important thing i wanted out of this was to introduce my girl to my uh…hobbies.” the sincerity in his eyes had you swooning. you cupped his cheek and leaned down to kiss the top of his head. “you’re forgiven.”. you say, before sitting up.

not a good idea.

your head was spinning. you moaned and grabbed your head, massaging it. “____? baby, what’s wrong?” connie asked worriedly, sitting up as well. then just as quick as the dizziness came, it went. you blinked. “i have no idea. maybe you just fucked me too hard, hm?” you teased, poking his shoulder. connie pressed the back of his hand against your forehead. you couldn’t read his expression, tho it looked like a mix between a shock, confusion, and disappointment. in short, nothing good. “what?” you ask.

connie shook his head. “this is gonna sound crazy, but do you think you were possessed?” he blurted out. you bit your lip, remembering the preacher and the strange echoing voice in your head. “ah…maybe? but i wanted that, it was me no one was controlling me. it just felt more like someone was egging me on.” you explained. even coming from your own mouth it sounded delusional. “oh my god connie, did i get possessed?!” you squealed, snapping your legs shut.

connie laughed and leaned forward, pulling you into his embrace. “no it wasn’t possession baby. just a bit of paranormal influence, like in the poltergeist.” this did not reassure you whatsoever, but connie was already sliding off the bed. “c’mon let’s go back upstairs and see what jean and sasha found. don’t tell them what happened okay? jean’ll kill the shit out of me.” he chuckled, kissing the top of your forehead. you did once over of the room again to make sure there was no ghost priest hiding in here before starting to get dressed again.

ꔵ “finally you two are here! you’ve gotta come see this!” sasha exclaimed as she saw the both of you approaching. sasha and jean had hooked up some sort of computer and were huddled around it. “what is it you?” connie questioned, taking your hand and hurrying you towards them. you smiled, relieved that he had meant what he said and was starting to finally include you. “it seems like whatever you guys did down there worked! we recorded these weird frequencies and we think we might have caught the pastors attention.” jean said, clicking around the screen.

you and connie exchanged wide eyed glances. “uh…what did you hear?” you asked, instinctively squeezing connie’s hand. jean and sasha shrugged. “nothing, we couldn’t hear it until it finished recording.” jean grinned up at the two of you. “but you arrived at perfect timing, now we can play it back together.” jean pulled up the sound byte. “jean i don’t think — “ connie started to protest, but jean had already pressed the space bar.

the empty church echoed with the sounds of your lewd moans and connie’s sensual praises. the heat rushed into your cheeks as you looked down in shame. you didn’t wanna see anyone else’s facial expressions. after what seemed like forever sasha’s hand darted out to pause it. safe to assume you were never invited to go ghost hunting with you boyfriend and his friends again. however you and connie did some extensive research afterwards.

connie’s body cam had mysteriously became static when he walked into the bedroom, so there was no footage of the ghost — you were honestly just relieved the two of you didn’t film a sex tape. however, apparently the ghost of the priest wandered the church, waiting to lure couples into the brothel rooms so that he could gain pleasure from seeing his brothel still be put to use. seven other couples who had visited the church also reported a strange occurrence where they ended up having sex in the brothel as well. you wondered how jean had missed that key part of research about the ghost.

“we may not have busted that ghost, but he sure made us bust.” connie cackled, nudging you. you gave him a pointed look. “you make awful jokes.” you told him, nudging him back. though the experience was a bit of a mindfucker, it truly brought you and connie closer together.

author’s note: hello again! this took me a really long time to write and yet it still feels really rushed :( i tried to do what i could in the edits but this probably isn’t my favorite. i would appreciate feedback if anyone has any though and if you did actually like it, thank you! i promise i can do way better though lmao </3

[dokoni-mo]

Where Is My Friend || Platonic! Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Summary: You and Izuku walk home together.

SFW // angst to light fluff

Word Count: 1915

WARNINGS: swearing, crying, all might slander, allusions to su*cide, otherwise none

A/N: i hate all might as a teacher. sometimes i just wanna reach through the screen and punch him for the things he tells izuku to do. this is why i made this.

~~

Izuku was late again that day, and this time you were more disappointed than mad.

With each student that passed by you and through the gates, you grew more and more irritated. You were trying to hide your annoyed expression by burying it in your phone, scrolling mindlessly through the various apps you had downloaded. Every now and again, you would check through your messages again, double and triple checking that you hadn't somehow missed a text from Izuku.

Every time, there was nothing.

Your brow furrowed when you checked it for the fifth time, forcing you to let out a silent frustrated sigh.

Izu, are you ready to go?

I'm out front

Are you still coming?

Hellloooo??? Where are you???

You promised, Izuku.

All of these messages, and no reply.

This wasn't a new occurrence. Every single day it was like this, and you would oftentimes just go home alone in silence. Izuku would always call and text to apologize to you afterwards, though.

At first you would pick up the phone. But, it slowly became less and less, to eventually nothing at all.

You were angry for a long time, but it all eventually boiled down into a soft, quiet frustration. You wondered to yourself a lot why you even bothered trying anymore. Those thoughts eventually drifted off into memories of middle school, and that quiet, timid, nerdy boy that you made your best friend.

You wondered where that boy went.

You looked up from your phone and looked at the campus around you. The area was bathed in an orange light, giving everything a warm and cozy glow. It was a beautiful spring afternoon, one that you would unfortunately most likely spend alone. Looking back down at your phone, you checked the time. It was getting somewhat late, and you knew your parents would start to worry about you if you didn't head back soon.

Five more minutes. You would give him five more minutes.

Letting out another sigh through your nose, you continued to scroll through your apps, not paying too close attention to what you were seeing. Every other second, you would peer up at the top of the screen, hoping to see the familiar bar of a notification up there.

None ever came.

A handful of photos and news articles later, and you decided to call it a quits. It had been more than five minutes, and there was still no sign of Izuku. Not one single thing.

Fuck it. You were going home.

Clicking your phone to sleep and putting it in your jacket pocket, you squared your backpack on your shoulders and stepped down the stairs of the front entrance, staring ahead at the gate with a blank expression.

Going to U.A. was you and his dream as kids. You remembered how the two of you would draw pictures of your hero costumes together, how you would spend hours of the phone coming up with the ideal schedule the two of you would have and what classes you would take.

Where did all that go? All those late nights? All those days the two of you got bullied? All those times you would tell Bakugou to fuck off when he was mean to Izuku? All the times Izuku told you to be nicer to Kacchan?

Was it all for nothing?

Were you just a memory now?

Were you not good enough to be his friend anymore?

All because of his new quirk?

It's not fair.

Not fair.

Not fair.

Not fai-

"Y/N!" you heard a voice from behind you shout, along with the rapid tapping of shoes against concrete.

It was him.

You stopped in your tracks and turned around, looking at him with a somewhat surprised expression. His green hair was the usual mess, and he was somewhat sweatier than normal. He ran quickly to catch up with you, breathing heavily once he was by your side.

You looked down at him in silence, your face unchanging.

"I'm-I'm so sorry I'm late!" He exclaimed, getting better control over his breathing, "I-I was just taking off my costume after hero training today and one of the teachers wanted to talk to me after and I-"

"It's getting late." You said, cutting him off, "We should get going."

You started to walk towards the gate again, and Izuku stared at you with a somewhat confused expression.

"Right..." he responded quietly, following by your side.

The two of you walked in silence for a good, long while. Izuku would keep looking at you to try and grab your attention, but you ignored him every time. You kept your gaze trained on your feet on the sidewalk, his red shoes in your peripheral.

You didn't want to talk. You just wanted to go home.

Go home and never talk to anyone again.

Izuku tried giving you one of his bright, warm smiles, but you ignored that too. As much as you didn't want to admit it, Izuku didn't smile the same anymore. There was something always behind his smile, something that you couldn't quite figure out.

The two of you used to share everything together, and now he was doing nothing but keeping secrets from you. You were quick to notice this, and you began to do your own digging.

You were observant, you always had been.

What you saw, you knew no one would believe you, though.

You just kept it to yourself, leaving it to rot deep inside you and plant its seeds of bad.

It was eating you alive, and you were angry.

"It's uhh..." Izuku said next to you, "It's a pretty day outside, isn't it?"

You said nothing and just kept staring down at your feet.

"It was a fun day at school too, huh?"

Nothing.

"What class did you like most?" I really liked Mr. Aizawa's today. I like it when he tells stories about his time at U.A."

Nothing.

"I also really liked All Might's cla-"

"Don't."

Izuku was definitely taken aback by your sudden, harsh response, his smile instantly fading away and his brows arching downwards.

"What... (Y/N), wh-what do you mean-"

You stopped walking abruptly, giving Izuku a glare through your lashes.

"Do not mention that man."

Izuku stopped walking too, looking at you with confusion and a touch of shock.

"You mean All Might? (Y/N), why? I thought you loved him as much as I-"

"I don't fucking love him anymore, Izuku!" you snapped, "But how would you know, huh? HOW?"

"(Y/N), what are you saying?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Izuku!" you threw your backpack off your shoulders, the extra weight only adding to your fury, "Even before we got into this shitty fucking school, you've done nothing but fucking blow me off and ignore me! I try to call, you don't answer. I try to text, you don't answer. I go over to your fucking house looking for you, and you're not there either! Do you have any clue how fucking lonely that makes me feel?! Knowing my best friend, my ONLY friend, wants nothing to do with me?!"

Izuku slid off his backpack too, his expression now more worried than anything, "(Y/N), I wasn't trying to ignore you. I-I just-"

"Just what Izuku. Just where have you been, hm? Tell me."

The green haired boy's gaze fell to the ground.

"I... I can't."

You raised your hands up and let them drop to your sides, a laugh of disbelief bubbling out of your throat.

"Fine, I'll finish it for you. You've been hanging out with fucking All Might, haven't you?"

Izuku's gaze shot back up to you, his eyes wide. He opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off.

"Ah- don't even goddamn try. I know you have been, Izuku. Do you think I'm fucking stupid? Do you think I'm fucking naieve? I fucking see how you two talk to each other. How you have lunch with him every goddamned fucking day. How he always focuses on you during training. How he keeps you after school."

Izuku just simply looked at you in silence, trying to process what to say.

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, but you decided to continue anyway, "And I know, I know he's been putting shit in your head. Not letting you think for yourself, telling you that it's okay to hurt yourself. How it's noble and honorable to be bedridden for fucking weeks to save people. How you should never prioritize yourself. Well goddamn it it's WRONG Izuku! It's fucking wrong! It's wrong to tell a kid that. It's wrong to take him away from his friends. It's wrong to have fucking favorites!"

You were full on crying now, and probably looked completely out of your goddamned mind.

You didn't care.

"He was my hero too, Izuku!" you continued on, hot tears pouring down your face, "But more importantly you were my hero! You were the only person in that shitty fucking middle school that I could confide in. You were the only friend I had, and that fucking bitch took you from me! Every day I go home and beg for my friend to come back to me. I don't give a single fuck what that old man says, I need my friend back! I'm so tired of it! I'm tired of feeling like nothing, like no one wants to be around me anymore! I'm t-tired, I'm... I...."

Unable to keep yourself together anymore, you fell onto your knees and sat back on your ankles, wiping your face on the back of your hands and wrists as you sobbed.

"I just... I miss you, Izuku."

You broke down again after that, crying there on the ground for a good minute. This was probably embarrassing the hell out of you, but you didn't care anymore. You didn't care about anything anymore. You were certain that Izuku would want nothing to do with you anymore. You just both dissed him and his number one idol.

There was no hope for you and him now.

After sitting there for a good minute bawling your eyes out, Izuku gently knelt down in front of you. You could feel his big, green eyes on your face, but you didn't look up at him. From your blurred vision, you couldn't tell how he was looking at you, but you figured it couldn't be good.

You were wrong.

Suddenly and without warning, you felt two strong arms wrap around your fame, your head being pulled into a chest covered with a uniform shirt and tie. Your cries softening, you were quick to realize who they all belonged to.

Izuku.

"(Y/N)," he said, his voice soft but firm, "I didn't know you felt that way. You are my best friend, too. I didn't mean to forget about you. I was never trying to make you feel that way."

Izuku hugged you tighter, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"From now on, I promise I'll always make time for you. You're my hero too, (Y/N). Without you with me in middle school, I... I would have..."

You didn't need to hear him finish for you to connect the dots.

After along moment of fleeting, renowned silence, you wrapped your arms around the boy, holding him tight against you.

You vowed to yourself then and there, that you would never ever let him go again.

[feralthoughtdump]

Only Angel

Part Two of Kiss With A Fist

On the way to Madripoor, Bucky and his acquaintance talk about names. 

Word Count: 5.5K

CW: violence, talk of killing people, TFATWS ep. 3 spoilers, stitching wounds, smut, unprotected sex, sub!bucky, technically a reader x bucky but he gives her a new name.

“So, we’re headed to Madripoor?” She questions, adjusting the straps of her harness.

Bucky adverts his eyes as she unbuttons her jeans, not answering her question, but she doesn’t seem to notice. They were standing in the back of the jet, a curtain obscuring the two of them from Sam and Zemo. 

“Help me really quick. I have a holster in my bag.” 

He reaches into her light blue duffle back, rifling through the articles of clothing and various weapons until his finger wraps around the leather.

“Thanks, you’re a godsend.” She chuckles. “Tell me about this mission of ours. I need to know what I should wear.” 

“We’re going undercover. Zemo is just… Zemo, Sam’s going as some big shot, and I’m… well-“

“The Winter Soldier?” 

He silently nods. 

“You scared?” 

She buckles the holster around her thigh, tightening it so it slightly squeezes at the flesh.

“Not sure.” He grumbles. “I’m worried, you know, I might end up..” his words trail off.

“Relapsing?”

“You can say that.”

She pulls her jeans down past her ankle and places them into her bag.

He clears his throat and looks away, unsure if she’s okay with him looking.

“Oh, don’t be shy, Buck.” She hymns, reaching into her bag. “What do you think? Shorts or a dress?” 

He looks back up, eyeing the black slip dress in one hand, and the leather shorts in the other. 

“Shorts I guess. Easy mobility.” 

“Smart.” 

As she’s pulling the shorts up past her waist, Bucky stares out the plane window. 

“Do you still go by Angel of Death?” He asks.

She looks up at him. 

“I never chose to go by that name, you know? The public did.” Her hands dig into the bag, pulling out a gun and a few knives. “Angels of death are serial killers in caregiver positions and I have nobody under my care. But they gave me that name because they saw me as some vigilante, someone who took down bad people.”

“Do you like the name?”

“I don’t really care. It’s factually incorrect but names don’t matter when you have to kill the person standing in the way of a paycheck.” 

“Is that how you see them? Just another person you have to kill so you can go buy a fancy handbag?” He scoffs. 

“You have no idea who those people are do you? Those people are corrupt. Evil. People who have no regard for the lives of innocent people.”

“And you think you’re any better?”

His tone is less accusing, rather it’s more curious. 

“Maybe not, but at the end of the day, it’s my job. And if my job means I’m killing morally corrupt people, then I really don’t care. And if I’m as bad as them, then maybe you had a right to kill me ten years ago.” 

Bucky shifts on his feet. 

“You know my mission wasn’t to kill you.” He confesses. 

“Then why did you stab me?” 

“I think for the first time, I felt scared. I was confused and I panicked.” 

“Fair enough.” She takes out a dark red trench coat. One made of soft crushed velvet. Bucky runs his flesh hand over it, taking in the feeling of the soft fabric. 

“I was supposed to take you away, hand you over to HYDRA. I think they wanted you to work for them.” 

She snorts, humored by his words. 

“So they wanted me to be a weapon, huh. Fry my brain until all my free will is gone and come up with a few words in Russian to make sure I’ll do their bidding.” 

“Most likely.” He crosses his arms. “You’re good at your job. You’ve wracked up kills in the hundreds, and I thought I was the one with the high body count.”

“Do you know why I’m good at my job?” She laughs, pulling her hair into a tight bun and securing it with a gold hairpin. “Do you know why I’m one of the best female assassins in Europe?”

Bucky shrugs his shoulders. 

“Every time I’m assigned a job, I’m walking into a life or death situation. I need to be prepared for any type of outcome so I won’t get caught off guard.” She pulls a black, satin, dress shirt over her shoulders. “But do you know the real reason as to why I’m the best?” 

Bucky parts his lips. 

“Tell me.”

“It’s because I never let my feelings get in the way.”

“But you have to feel at least something.” 

“No. I don’t think I really feel anything.” She tucks the hem into the shorts. “I haven’t felt anything in a very long time.”

He doesn’t know what to say. As he observes her concealing weapons within her outfit, he thinks about the past few decades of his life. One mission after another. He thinks about the bloodshed. He thinks about Yori and his son. Did he feel anything when he put a bullet in that boy? Not at the time. But now? All he feels is guilt. Shame. But here she stands in front of him, dressed to the nines, hidden weapons strapped to her body. I haven’t felt anything in a really long time.  No guilt, no shame, no emotions. The silence hangs over them like a thick, heavy fog.

His mind wanders to their first interaction. Though he can’t remember much, he often revisits it in his dreams.

Don’t you want to know my name?

The question she asked him before he plunged the knife into her abdomen. 

“Ten years ago, you asked if I wanted to know your name.” 

“I did.” 

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

“No. I would’ve just given you a fake one.”

She sits down on the leather seat and stuffs her feet into a pair of heeled boots. Bucky takes a seat next to her.

“What name would you have given me?”

“I was reading Anna Karenina at the time so probably Kitty.” 

“Do you have a name?” 

“I have many names.”

“No, a real name.”

She zips up her left boot.

“I do. Well, I did.” She sighs, moving her fingers to zip up the right. “I don’t remember it anymore.” 

Bucky frowns.

“Do you want to remember?” 

Her head falls onto his shoulders and she nuzzles her nose into his neck. 

“Not really. Sometimes I think it’s better that I’m nameless.” 

Bucky doesn’t want to say he pities her, but he does. Maybe it isn’t pitying, rather sympathizing. 

“Can I give you a new one?”

She smiles, relishing in the feeling of his stubble against her skin. 

“Sure.”

“I’d like to call you Angel.” 

A hum of content passes her lips and she presses a soft kiss on his skin. 

“I’d like that too.” She whispers. “I’ll be your angel.”

They sit together for a good five minutes, syncing their breathing together, enjoying each other’s company.

“We should go back to your friends.” She mutters, grabbing the coat. 

“We probably should.”

Sam gives the two of them as they walk past the curtain. Bucky sits across from him and he watches with a slightly annoyed eye as she takes the seat across from Zemo. 

“How do you two know each other?” Sam queries.

“Oh. Bucky stabbed me ten years ago.” She bluntly states.

A humored smile crosses her face as Sam’s eyes widen and darts between the two. 

“He stabbed you?”

“Hey, I wasn’t really myself back then.” Bucky quickly defends himself. “Plus, she tried to kill me a few hours ago.” 

“In her defense,” Zemo interjects “being stabbed isn’t something you can just forgive and forget.” 

“Oh, and you know everything about forgiving and forgetting.” Sam shoots back. 

Sensing oncoming tension, she quickly changes the subject. 

“Bucky told me you three needed a tour guide. Someone who knows the place well.” 

“I’d consider myself-“

“Oh Baron,” she laughs “after everything you did in 2017, I doubt it’s easy for them to trust you.”

Zemo’s eyes widened. 

“You know who I am?”

“Of course I do. I’ve been to Sokovia before.” 

Sam furrowed his brows.

“What led you to Sokovia?”

“Business meetings.” 

“Jesus, Bucky, who is this girl?” 

“Oh, yeah, I never actually introduced myself. I’m Angel.” Bucky smiles at the use of her name, affection blooming in his chest. “I work for a small company based in Europe. We mostly sell cosmetics.”

Bucky’s impressed by her ability to spit out a convincing story with no hesitation. 

Sam doesn’t seem to buy it, but he lets it go. 

“Anyways, what role do you three want me to play?”

“Well,” Zemo shifts in his seat, “I was thinking you could be my date-“

“No. No” Bucky grouses, a deep frown cutting across his face. “Absolutely not.”

“Relax, James. I won’t try anything with her. I know you two are… close.” 

Bucky scrambles out of his seat to wrap a hand around Zemo’s neck but he steps away at the feeling of Angel’s gentle hand on his bicep. 

“Calm down, Bucky. Everything’s going to be fine.” She looks at Zemo with an amused grin. “Alright. I’ll play the part, but I have a few rules.” She points her thumb up. “One, no kissing.” Then her pointer. “No silly pet names. I don’t want to hear you calling me baby or kitten. It’s patronizing.” Finally her middle. “And three, I don’t drink. My tolerance is low.”

Zemo and Sam nod in agreement and eventually so does Bucky, but the anger in his eyes refuses to fade away. 

It’s nighttime when they arrive, but the bright, neon lights illuminate the city. 

Loud music seeps out from the clubs and the air smells of smoke and booze. They’re surrounded by crime, and Angel smiles at the familiarity. She can spot a few familiar faces, but she never bothers to say hi. It’s best she stays faceless, unknown, invisible. 

Zemo wraps an arm around her waist and Bucky side eyes him. She can read his annoyance. His jealousy. Yet, his cold, emotionless expression doesn't change. He’s fallen into character and he’s doing a damn good job of it. 

Whispers of ‘is that the Winter Soldier?’ pour around them as they enter the bar, but they all do their best to pay no attention. 

“Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.” The bartender nods towards Sam. 

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby.” Zemo interjects. 

Selby. 

Angel remembers that name. She’s heard it in whispers on the streets. 

Angel takes a seat on Zemo’s lap, leaning her head against the fur on his coat. 

“Who’s the girl?”

“Close friend of mine,” Zemo smirks.

“I’m Moria.” She extends a hand and the bartender politely shakes it. 

Bucky glances down at his fingers. Of course, her name here would be fake. 

“The usual?” The bartender asks.

Sam and Zemo reply with a nod. 

The four of them watch as he pulls a snake out of a jar, cutting its organs out and placing them in a shot glass. He moves on to pour out a shot of vodka for Zemo.

She grins and runs a hand from the fur collar of his coat to his chest. A soft, flirtatious giggle slips past her lips. Oh, Bucky wanted to take Zemo’s shot glass and throw it at the wall but he can’t. Not when the stakes are so high. 

She suppresses a giggle as she watches Sam struggle to down the shot. 

“Got word from on high,” A man approaches Zemo. “You ain’t welcome here.”

“I have no business with the Power Broker. But if he insists, he can either talk to me…” 

He gestures towards Bucky.

Angel surveys the bar, observing the patrons around them. Most of them are staring at the four, suspicious eyes being thrown their way. 

Her concentration is broken when Zemo speaks.

“Winter Soldier” He orders in Russian.

She remembers Bucky’s words on the plane. He’s afraid of relapsing. 

“Attack.”

Compassion, something she hasn’t felt for a long time, floods her body and before he can strike, she finds herself twisting the man’s fingers. Another approaches them and Bucky takes the lead, kicking the man to the ground. Men charge towards them and she fights along with him. He’s throwing kicks, punches, a sight that Angel is all too familiar with. Bucky takes hold of a man thrown his way, slamming him down onto the table, metal arm wrapped around his neck.

They freeze at the sound of weapons around them. Her eyes dart around the room, seeing the guns trained on them. Slowly, she reaches under her shirt, feeling the knives she has strapped to her body. 

Sam places a hand on Bucky’s arm and Zemo quickly stops him. 

“Stay in character or the entire bar turns on us.” 

They all stand as the bartender turns to them. 

“Selby will see you now.” 

She looks at Bucky, then Sam, then Zemo who opens his arms, beckoning her towards him. She lets him place a hand on her hip as the four of them walk away.

“You should know Baron,” Selby’s voice rings through her ears. “People don’t just come into my bar and make demands.”

“Not a demand, an offer.” Zemo replies. 

“Well, a lot has changed since you were last here. By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” He chuckles.  Zemo releases his hand on her. 

“You’re taller than I heard, Smiling Tiger.” She purrs at Sam, who glances away. “What’s the offer? The girl?”

“No. Something better.”

He walks over to Bucky. 

“Tell me what you know about the super-soldier serum and I’ll hand him over.” Fingers trace over his face, from his cheekbones down to his chin. “Along with the code words to control him. He will do whatever you want.”

A Cheshire cat smile cuts across Selby’s face. 

“Now that’s the Zemo I know.” She settles into her couch. “Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant but right. The serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you want to thank… or condemn.” She shrugs. “Whatever side you’re on.” 

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?” Zemo inquires. 

Selby stands. 

“The breadcrumbs, you can have for free, but the bakery’s going to cost you.” She sighs. “Your arm candy, Baron, she’s extraordinary. There’s no way a little bird” Selby points her finger up and down at Angel “can fight like that without years of training. Come here, darling.” She beckons her over. Angel turns to Zemo, and then to Bucky, a worried expression on her face. Zemo falters for a second and releases his hand on her shoulder. 

“Go ahead, darling.”

She stands and walks over the Selby, who looks her over with an inquisitive eye. Selby runs a manicured finger along the collar of Angel’s coat. 

“I’ll tell you what,” Selby decides. “You hand both of them over to me, and I’ll tell you everything about Nagel.” She grins, pulling back the strap of Angel’s thigh holster and snapping it back onto her skin. 

“Don’t touch me.” She snarls.

Selby cocks her head, an amused smirk on her face. 

“I have to say, she’s quite the fiery one. I’d like to call her my little firebird. Have her sing for me.”

“A firebird and the Winter Soldier.” Zemo seethes. “Clever.”

Their attention turns to Sam when his phone rings.

Selby saunters over to him. 

“Answer it.” She demands. “On speaker.”

Angel bites the inside of her cheek, waiting with bated breath as Sam speaks to Sarah. He rambles on about money laundering and having a banker killed until Sarah calls him Sam. 

Her blood runs cold. 

“Sam?” Selby questions, voice laced with accusation. “Who’s Sam? Kill them!” 

Without hesitation, Angel pulls the gun out of her holster and unloads a bullet in the woman. 

“We need to get out of here.” She yells, stuffing her gun back in place.

One of Selby’s bodyguards cocks his gun and Angel sends a throwing knife into his head, Bucky takes down the other, knocking him out with his fist. 

“Jesus Christ, Angel!” Sam yells. 

“We don’t have time to unpack that.” she pants, ripping the knife out of the bodyguard’s head. “The second people get word that she’s dead, we’ll have a million-dollar price tag on our heads.” She shoves the knife into a pocket on her holster and bolts to the door.

The four sprint out of the exit and onto the streets, laying low, trying not to get noticed. They walk at a brisk pace, shoulder forward, eyes straight. 

The sound of rapid gunfire sends them scrambling. 

“I can’t run in these heels!” Sam yells.

“Oh, tell me about it!” She replies. The shock from her boots meeting the pavement sends pain up her calves.  “I’ve been running in heels for years and it still sucks.”

“That’s not humanly possible. How do you do that?” He pants.

“I got used to it.” 

Angel grabs her gun and cocks it. She one bullet after another and when the wind blows back her coat, Bucky can spot another pistol tucked in the waistband of her shorts. 

Motorcycles start to barrel towards them and they pick up their speed. A bounty hunter throws a dagger, slicing at the skin of her thigh. Despite the gash, she can’t feel the pain. Not with the adrenaline coursing through her veins. 

They cut to a halt when they find themselves in an alleyway, surrounded.

Gunshots ring through the air saving them from impending death. 

“Looks like we have a guardian angel.” Zemo notes, his run slowing down into a walk. 

They look around, catching their breath.

“Well, this is too perfect.” The four turn to see a blonde walking towards them, gun pointed in Zemo’s direction. “Drop it, Zemo.”

“Sharon?” Bucky inquires. She rolls her eyes and turns to Angel. 

“Nice to finally meet you, Angel of Death.” 

“What? How do you know her?” Sam asks.

“I was investigating a politician’s death a few years ago. I managed to get my hands on her picture but Bucky over here caused a bit of a stir.”

She chuckles. “Nice to meet you too, Agent Carter. 

“I used to be an agent, not anymore.” Sharon states. 

“What are you doing here?” Bucky asks.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember?” Her words, laced with bitterness. She points her gun at Sam “I also took your wings” then to Bucky, “so you could save his ass” finally, to Zemo “from his ass. Unlike you, I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up.”

Angel stands by, watching Bucky ask for Sharon’s help, paying no attention to the cut on her leg. Unfortunately, the adrenaline finally wears off, sending pain up her leg. Her hands press on the bleeding wound, covering her fingers with blood. She hisses in pain, causing Sharon to turn to her, brows raised. 

“This isn’t over.” She spits at them and makes her way over to Angel.

“You might need some stitches for that.” She sighs, handing her a tissue. “I have a place in High Town. You’ll be safe there.”

… 

Bucky takes a seat next to Angel, who is tending to her wound on Sharon’s couch, legs propped up on a glass coffee table.

“She’s stitching herself up.” Sharon smiles. “Best you don’t distract her.”

“I’ll be fine.” Angel murmurs, eyes trained on the needle piercing her skin. “Thanks for the suture kit by the way. I left mine on Zemo’s jet.” 

“No problem. I got myself some first aid supplies when I was on the run. Figured they would come in handy.”

“My calves hurt. You have anything for that?” She grumbles, carefully knotting the thread. 

“There’s probably some ibuprofen in there.” Sharon chuckles. “Those heels are gorgeous but damn, they look painful.”

Bucky gently wraps his fingers around her ankle and looks at her. 

“May I?” 

“Such a gentleman. Of course.”

She places her legs on his thighs and sighs with relief as he massages the sore muscles of her calves. 

“Does it hurt?”

“My calves? Or cut on my thigh.”

“Your thigh.”

She shrugs, pulling the thread.

“Not too much. It’s nothing Advil can’t fix.”

Sharon throws them an amused look. 

“So, what’s going on between the two of you?” 

“James seems to have formed a little bond with her. In more ways than one.” Zemo smiles at them over a glass of whisky.

“I’ll knock that drink right out of your hands.” Angel barks. 

“I have to say, it’s quite ironic. James, you swore that you’d leave your assassin roots behind, yet you’ve taken up the company of one of the most prolific hitwomen in Europe.” 

“He’s got a point,” Sharon says, rifling through racks of clothing. “The irony part, I mean. When I was working the Death Angel case, both the FBI and the CIA profiled you as a psychopath. Someone unable to form proper emotional bonds with others-“

“Sociopath.” Angel interrupted with a roll of her eyes. “Not a psychopath. Psychopaths have no moral compass. But I’d say I do. Sociopaths are still able to discern right from wrong.” 

Sam walks into the room, shrugging a jacket onto his shoulders.

“So why’d you become a hitwoman?”

Though he asks out of curiosity, Bucky still notes the way her eyes narrow, the way her lips twist into a frown. 

“I was getting paid. Plus, they aren’t the type of people you’d like to have dinner with.”

“Let’s drop this, yeah?” Bucky grumbles. “I don’t think Angel wants to continue this conversation.”

Angel. She still hasn’t gotten used to that new name, but she likes it. 

It was nothing like the names the authorities and the public had slapped on her. Killer, psychopath, evil, monster. 

The hardened shell she had built around her has started to crack, but only for Bucky.

For the first time, she wonders what it would be like. To be free from the title of an assassin. 

Maybe she’d live in a quiet Parisian apartment or a sun-filled home in northern Italy. Maybe she’d be alone. She’d be okay with that. Maybe she’ll be with someone else. Maybe with Bucky. She’d be more than okay with that. 

She envied him, even if she shouldn’t. She didn’t go through what he went through. Being taken away, stripped of any control, and then having to live in a world he knew nothing of.

However, Bucky had something she didn’t have. He had good within himself. 

She’s pulled from her thoughts when Sharon hands her a small pile of clothing.

“Here, these seem to be your style. I know some higher-ups so I’ll ask about Nagel. So, while I’m at it, enjoy the party.” 

“Thanks, Sharon.”

“I’ll let you get changed.” Zemo stands and walks away, offering her privacy. 

Sam and Sharon nod, leaving the room, but Bucky stayed behind. 

“Are you okay?” He quietly asks. 

“Yeah. I’m okay.” She curtly nods. 

Bucky reaches for a pad of gauze and presses it to the closed wound. 

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. You don’t need to worry about me.”

He holds the gauze in place while she tapes it down. 

“You’re really good at that.”

“Thanks.” She huffs. “YouTube has some great tutorials on bandaging.” 

The music from the party downstairs echoes through Sharon’s home, bleeding into the room. 

“Alright.” Angel stands and grabs the clothing that Sharon gave her. “I’ll change and we can head downstairs.”

She walks into the bathroom and shuts the door.

Bucky cleans up the used suture supplies and throws them in the small trash can in the corner while waiting for Angel to finish. 

He wonders what would have happened if he had successfully completed his Berlin mission in 2013. What would have become of her? Everything she does, she does it with a flair. From the way she dresses, to how she acts, even in the way she kills. She was spirited, creative, and clever. He can’t bear the thought of anyone, not just HYDRA, taking that away from her. 

“Hey, Buck?” She walks out of the bathroom, holding her hands across her chest. “Can you help button me up?” 

His mouth goes dry when he sees her. She’s ethereal, not of this world. The forest green satin of her dress compliments her gold jewelry, illuminated by the soft lights of Sharon’s home. 

“Um,” he swallows. “Sure.” 

She walks over to him and turns around so he can hook the buttons through the loops. 

“Pretty isn’t it. Sharon has great taste.” 

“Yeah.” He breathes. 

“Do you like it?”

“I guess so.”

She turns to face him with a mischievous grin. 

“What do you mean ‘you guess so’?” 

“I was born in 1917, I know nothing about modern fashion. You look beautiful, though.” 

Bucky sits back down and she crawls into his lap. “You’re so sweet to me. Maybe too sweet.” She giggles. 

“Oh, by the way.” Her hands rest on his shoulders. “I never returned the favor from this morning.” 

She leans in and presses her mouth against his, kissing him with fervor. 

Bucky tucks her lower lip between his teeth and bites, smiling at her little yelp. He reaches up to cup her face in his hands, rubbing his thumb over her soft skin. She deepens the kiss, letting her tongue brush against his lips. 

A whine leaves his lips as she pulls back and stands. 

He pouts and reaches his arms towards her, hands making a grabbing motion. 

“Another kiss. Please?” 

“Oh, Bucky,” She giggles, lowering herself onto her knees. “You’re too cute.”

Her hands reach for his belt, undoing the buckle. She pulls his jeans down, letting them pile around his feet. He stops her hands right as they reach for his briefs. 

“Wait, I-” He stutters. “I haven’t done this in a long time.” Blushing in embarrassment. 

“If you don’t want to, we can stop.” She says sweetly.

“I want to.” He lets go of her wrist and lets his hand rest in her hair. “I just forgot how it feels.”

“If you want, I can take control for a little bit.” She rests her head on his thigh. “Make you feel good.” 

Bucky blinks owlishly and nods. 

“Yeah. I’d like that a lot.”

That was the green light. She pulls his briefs down and Bucky kicks them aside along with the jeans. He grins as he watches her eyes widen. 

“You-” She gasps. “Oh, wow, you’re big.” 

“Yeah?” He chuckles, reaching down to stroke himself. “You think you can take me?” 

“I can try.” 

She spits on her hand and wraps it around his cock. He sucks in a sharp breath when she thumbs over the tip. 

“Oh.” He gasps when she licks the underside. “Oh!”

“Feels good?” She presses a kiss on his thigh. 

“Yeah, really good.”

Her lips wrap around his cock, saliva dripping past her tongue and onto his skin. 

He lets his head fall back, a quiet groan slipping past his lips. 

“Oh, Angel, you’re amazing.”

She flutters her lashes and looks up at him. 

It’s a beautiful sight, he thinks, the way she’s all doe-eyed and blushy. 

He grabs a fist full of her hair and pulls her closer, letting his cock hit the back of her throat. 

She gags around him and tears prick at her eyes, yet she doesn’t pull away. She bobs her head back and forth, sending electricity through his veins. 

Spit dribbles down her chin and Bucky tightens his grip on her hair. He lets his other hand cup her cheek. 

“Relax for me, love.” He murmurs. He holds her head still and pushes his hips forward. She squeezes her eyes shut and grabs onto his thighs. Bucky hisses at the feeling of her nails digging into his skin but the pain is overshadowed by pleasure. Her mouth is so wet, so warm around him and he can’t get enough. 

He’s only had his cock in her mouth for a few minutes but he can already feel himself getting closer. 

“Wait, wait!” He gasps. 

Angel pulls off, eyes wide with worry.

“Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” She asks. 

“No,” He caresses her face. “You were perfect. I just- I’m gonna cum soon and I want you to feel good too.” 

She smiles affectionately. 

“Oh, baby, you’re too good to me.” 

As she moves to straddle him, Bucky takes hold of her waist and pushes her onto the couch so she’s lying underneath him.

“Don’t want you hurting yourself.” He kisses her nose. “Your wound is still healing.” 

His hands push up the hem of her dress, the satin pooling around her waist, exposing the soft skin of her tummy and the scar he left her. He leans down to press a gentle kiss on the scar and he playfully nips at her skin. 

“No biting, puppy.” 

He whines at the name. It makes him feel all soft like he wants to give all of himself to her. His head rests on her tummy and he blinks at her with soft eyes. 

“You wanted me to take control, so I’m taking control.” She coos, running a hand through his hair. “Give me a kiss, baby.” 

He kisses up her body and when his lips meet hers, she takes this as an opportunity to roll themselves over. 

She straddles his hips, letting her cunt rub against his cock. Her eyes close and she sighs in pleasure. 

“You want to fuck me, baby?” She giggles. 

“Yes.” He groans. “Oh god, yes.” 

“What do you say?” she taunts, voice laced with authority. 

“Please.” Bucky pants. “Can I please fuck you?” 

“Mmm. Asking so nicely.” She muses. “Of course you can.” 

His eyes roll back, chest heaving. His mouth drops open but she presses a hand against his mouth. 

“Gotta stay quiet. Don’t want everyone hearing you do we?” 

Bucky nods, biting down on his lip. 

“Good boy.” She leans down and kisses his forehead. “So good.” 

She lifts her hips and presses his cock against her entrance. 

Bucky rests a hand on her hips but she intertwines their fingers and presses his hand onto the couch cushions. 

“No touching.” 

Unfair. She’s being unfair. 

As she lowers herself onto him, Bucky squeezes his eyes shut, trying not to moan. 

“Beautiful.” She whispers, eyes hooded and lips parted. “You’re beautiful.” 

He thinks he could cum right then and there. 

“Am I making you feel good?” She whispers. 

Bucky nods, quiet moans on the tip of his tongue. 

She gasps and tightens around him. Bucky bites down on his lip. Hard. 

“M-move.” He whimpers. “Please.”

She replies by moving her hips back and forth. 

“You feel so good, sweet thing.” 

Bucky hums in content. 

“Thank you.” 

With every movement she makes, with every sound that leaves her lips, Bucky’s convinced she’s going to kill him. 

“Do you know what la petite mort means, baby?” She asks him.

“Mhm.” Bucky opens his eyes. “It’s French. It means a little death.”

They’re nose to nose, both gasping into each other’s mouths. The gold necklaces she’s wearing dangles in his face and he bites down on a chain with a smile. 

“It means more than that, baby. La petit mort refers to an orgasm. And from the looks of it,” She teases, “I think you’re coming close.” 

Bucky groans, letting go of the chain. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Are you close, baby? Are you gonna cum?”

“Yes.” He whimpers with desperation. “Can I cum? Can I cum for you?”

“Tell me I’m your angel.” She whispers into his ear.

“You’re my angel. Can I please cum?” He begs.

“No, not yet.” She laves her tongue over the shell of his ear. “Tell me I’m your only angel.” 

“You’re my angel. My only angel.” 

She squeezes around him and quickens her movements. Her hands press down on his chest as she lifts her hips and sinks back down onto him. 

She’s an angel. His angel. In this moment, he’d do anything for her. Anything for his angel. 

“I’m gonna- fuck.” He groans. 

“Gonna cum?” She asks, voice silvery and low. “Gonna cum for me baby?”

All he can do is nod. 

“Alright.” 

She lifts herself off of him and before he can protest, she’s got her lips wrapped around him. He bucks his hips forward and empties himself into her mouth. 

He watches in awe, chest heaving post-orgasm, as she swallows him down and pulls off of him. With a quick swipe of her hand across she smiles. 

She crawls up his body and places a gentle kiss on his cheek. 

“So good. You were so good for me.”

[haikyuucute]

Don’t Call It A Crush (Ushijima Wakatoshi) [Part 2]

Summary: Ushijima Wakatoshi is convinced he doesn’t have a crush on you

Warnings: Implied smut, angst, smut in future parts

Word Count: 2.5k

[A/N]: Okay so Tendou acts a little bit as the villain but I needed him to further the plot, so unfortunately he doesn’t seem like the best friend to have in this. Also kinda messy but I’m just gonna chalk it up to my lingering writers block

Part 1

—————

”Waka-kun!” You sighed out dramatically as soon as you approached his seated form in the cafeteria. You draped yourself against his back but he made no move to push you off.

“(F/N),” he said, before continuing to eat his lunch while Tendou greeted you from across him.

You sighed again, a pout on your lips as you sat down beside the ace, “I think I left my jacket in your dorm last night.”

He hummed, “I’ll check after practice—“

”You came over!?” Tendou exclaimed.

”Yeah!” You nodded, “Where were you—“

”The gym— you should’ve texted me.”

”Well, I didn’t know!”

He frowned, sprawling his arms out on the lunch table, when he realized something. He looked at Ushijima, “Is that why you were working on homework at one in the morning?”

”Yes,” he simply answered, making you gasp.

”You had homework!? Why’d you let me interrupt you!”

”You wanted to come over.”

You pouted again, ignoring the way your heart fluttered at the fact he dropped everything just so you could hang out, “Idiot, you could’ve said no.”

You huffed to yourself. Every once in a while Ushijima would pull stupid shit like that. There had even been one time a couple months ago now where he had even taken the fall for you when you were caught skipping out on class duties. He told the teacher he convinced you to come to his volleyball practice, and what was worse was that you didn’t even find out until he was missing from practice due to detention.

And there was another time about a month ago now where a stray volleyball had hit you hard in the leg and he insisted he leave practice to help you to the infirmary even though there were plenty of other capable players to take you— the captain left practice. Sure it was only for a short while but the coach still didn’t appreciate it (Tendou even told you he made him run laps after practice).

He didn’t do stuff like that too often but every time he did it made you feel really guilty and you hated to admit that it was why it made it that much more difficult to get over him. Every incident gave you some hope that there was a slight chance he really did feel something for you, but that hope was easily crushed when he never made any move to return the affection you’d give him.

Tendou’s eyes were narrowed on Ushijima as he tried to figure him out.

”What were you two doing?” He asked.

”We watched a crappy horror movie cause I thought it was funny,” you frowned deeper, “It was definitely not worth staying up til one in the morning to finish homework.”

”I enjoyed it,” Ushijima said, taking another bite of his lunch.

You raised an eyebrow, “You didn’t even understand half of what was happening.” You said, to which he simply shrugged.

”You watched a bad horror movie without me!?” Tendou shouted, clearly offended.

”I thought you’d be there!” You shouted back.

”Well I wasn’t—!”

”Then we’ll watch it this weekend, so shut up—“

”You two are yelling already?” A new voice interjected.

You looked up to find Semi and Reon, Semi taking his seat next to you while Reon walked around the table to sit next to Tendou.

”Yeah, well, Satori’s being a baby,” you muttered, answering Semi who asked the question.

”About what?” Reon added.

”Nothing, he’s just upset because Ushijima and I watched a movie without him.”

Semi hummed, before grabbing an article of clothing out of his bag and dropping it on your head.

With furrowed brows, you pulled it off to find that it was the jacket you thought you left at Ushijima’s.

”Is that your jacket?” Tendou suddenly asked, eyebrow raised.

It was as if your heart stopped in that moment as you turned to look at Tendou. There was always just something about his face when he was thinking, that made you anxious.

”Yeah,” you nodded, brushing it off as you tucked it away in your own bag.

”You were at Semi’s last night?”

There. You pinpointed exactly why your anxiety was justified when it came to Tendou.

”Uh— yeah, I went over to study,” you answered coolly.

You snuck a glance at Semi, whose eyes were now widened in surprise, looking like a dead give away.

You quickly stomped on his foot, making him hiss, but he quickly got the gist, and nodded, “Yeah, we were studying...” he trailed off, glaring at you.

Reon frowned, “You were? You should’ve called, I could use the extra studying.”

”Sorry,” you answered bashfully, “We’ll do that next time— Tendou stop looking at me like that,” you snapped at the red-head, his piercing gaze sending chills down your spine.

He glanced back and forth between you and Semi, before his eyes landed on Ushijima, who looked the same as always, but a smile curled at the corners of Tendou’s lips anyway.

”Sorry, sorry~” he practically sang, “Tell me more about that movie now.”

You eyed him warily, but if it took the focus off of you and Semi then you’d take it.

The rest of lunch felt off from that moment on, and you knew whatever Tendou was thinking wasn’t good.

If only you truly knew what he was planning.

The thing about Tendou was that just because he was a strange guy, it didn’t make him stupid. After all, he was able to keep his grades high enough in a school like Shiratorizawa in order to continue playing volleyball.

He also hated being wrong.

Unfortunately, it happened a lot more often outside of volleyball but he still had unmatchable observational skills.

So when he first had the hunch back in second year that you had a crush on Ushijima, he did everything he could to figure out if he was right.

And he was. Making him and Semi to be the only two people that knew about your crush on Ushijima.

At the time you forced him to promise not to tell Ushijima and as much of a little shit he could be, he did cherish your friendship, so he kept his mouth shut.

But almost a year later he had noticed little things here and there that Ushijima would do for you, subtle enough for pretty much everyone to miss, including you, but not for Tendou.

So he was hell-bent on figuring out if those gestures Ushijima did meant something more.

But the male was as dense as ever and prying any information about his love life was useless.

However, a new factor had entered the equation that made Tendou’s brain start working overtime.

Your jacket.

It wasn’t hard to figure out what was going on between you and Semi, and Tendou was more than intrigued.

After the jacket mix up in lunch he started paying closer attention to both of you. Noting every time one of you left and the other followed only ten minutes later, watching the way you both interacted in each other’s presences, and the terrible cover up’s when one was asked where they were.

After about two weeks of watching and observing silently he was originally going to confront you about it, but a much more entertaining option had come up one afternoon.

Unfortunately, it started a bit of a shit storm.

Ushijima, Tendou, you, Semi, and Reon all decided to meet up and study in the library on one of those rare days that practice ended a bit earlier than usual.

It wasn’t unusual for the five of you to study together whenever you had the chance, especially for Ushijima’s sake who wasn’t exactly the smartest ​​​​​​​person outside of volleyball.

The plan was to head to your dorms and grab your books and meet up in the library, but Ushijima and Tendou had made it down first.

With no sign of you and the others yet as the two got settled down at a table, Tendou decided that now would be the best time to try and figure out again if Ushijima liked you.

“So, (F/N) and Semi...” Tendou started, gauging if the two names together sparked any kind of reaction from the ace.

It didn’t.

Ushijima looked up at Tendou, waiting for him to finish, but when he didn’t he asked, “What about (F/N) and Semi?”

”Oh nothing~” he sing songed, leaning back in his seat, balancing the chair on its back legs, “Do you think they like each other?”

Ushijima looked mildly confused at this, “Isn’t that why they’re friends?”

Tendou laughed, “I meant more than friends Wakatoshi.”

”Why are you asking?”

”They just seen closer than usual, don’t you think. I’ve seen the two sneaking around together a lot~”

Ushijima didn’t understand what Tendou was getting at and it showed. But he supposed that the two of you had grown closer, however it didn’t really make him think anything of it. You still snuck into his and Tendou’s dorm on a regular basis and hung out with the two as usual so he couldn’t specifically say he thought there was something going on between you and Semi.

But there were two words that Tendou had said that stuck out to him.

”Sneaking around?”

His smile widened upon seeing more of a reaction from his friend, “I’m pretty sure (F/N) and Semi are sleeping with each other,” he bluntly stated.

Ushijima didn’t know what to make of the accusation, but he did know he felt....offended.

“(F/N) isn’t like that. If she was in a relationship with Semi she would’ve told us.”

”Unless it’s just sex,” he suggested, leaning forward and resting his chin upon his crossed arms on the table. He looked up at Ushijima who looked even more offended now, “Think about it, she was at his dorm the night she thought she left her jacket at ours.”

”She said they were studying.”

”They seemed very panicked for two friends just studying.”

Ushijima narrowed his eyes at Tendou, “(F/N)‘s not sleeping with Semi.”

Tendou hummed, “What makes you think that?”

”Because (F/N)‘s not like that,” he reiterated.

”But what if she was? Maybe you don’t want to believe it because of your little crush on her~”

His eyes narrowed further, “I’ve told you before Tendou, I don’t have feelings for (F/N).”

”Are you sure?”

“Enough Tendou,” Ushijima said, getting annoyed now, “I told you before, I would never date (F/N).”

Tendou sighed, it seemed that he wouldn’t be getting anything out of him today, and besides, he also spotted Reon making his way to their table, “Fine, fine. I’ll drop it.”

“Hey,” Reon greeted, taking a seat beside Ushijima.

”Where’s Semi?” Tendou asked him upon noticing he hadn’t come down with him.

”He’ll be down soon, he misplaced one of his assignments so he’s looking for it right now. He said we can start without him. What about (F/N)? Is she here yet.”

”She was helping Shirabu stretch before going to her dorm,” Ushijima answered, “She should be down soon.”

”Will she mind if we start without her?”

”No, she won’t care,” Tendou said, pulling out his study guides as he reluctantly started studying.

Though unknown to the three of them, and especially Tendou and Ushijima... you actually were there.

Your back was pressed against one of the book shelves, out of sight but definitely not out of ear shot.

Your heart was pounding out of your chest.

Tendou knew about you and Semi.

He told Ushijima.

Ushijima admitted he’d never date you.

It was one thing when you just assumed he didn’t feel the same but hearing it was completely different.

You were mortified, embarrassed, and heart broken.

Tears blurred your vision and you quickly made your way out of the library, using the farthest exit so they wouldn’t spot you.

Only one thing replayed in your head: Semi was still in his dorm.

Your legs moved on their own accord as you made your way to the boys dormitory. At this point you had been a pro at evading the hall monitors and you easily snuck in. The next thing you knew, you were standing in front of Semi’s dorm and knocking.

He swung the door open, his neutral face turning into one of worry when he saw your tear-stained face.

”(F/—“

He couldn’t get your name out before you were pulling him towards you, lips crashing against his. You then pushed him back into his room, shutting the door behind the two of you.

You broke the kiss briefly to pull your shirt over your head, and Semi decided to take this as his opportunity to figure out what was wrong.

”(F/N), why are you crying—“

His mouth fell shut at the glare you sent him once you had your shirt off— he had never seen you like this before.

”Ushijima doesn’t and will never like me and Tendou figured out we’re fucking, so right now I need you to make me forget everything.”

His eyes widened, “Wha— how—?”

”It doesn’t matter,” you muttered, going to close the distance between you two again, but he gripped your jaw, holding you back.

”We’re supposed to be going to the library, they’re gonna notice we’re both gone.”

”Does it even matter?” You snapped, “Tendou told Ushijima anyway.”

Semi looked conflicted but you could see he was going to give in.

”Fine,” he relented, “But Reon might come in to check on me if I’m not down there soon, so we’re doing this quick.”

”Whatever— just fuck me already Eita.”

His jaw clenched as he shook his head, “You’re fucking ridiculous.”

With that he was pulling you towards his bed.

—

What happened then was a series of unfortunate coincidences that played out back to back.

First it was when Tendou had been too loud down in the library.

The second was when the librarian kicked the three of them out because of the noise.

The third was Reon suggesting that they go back to his dorm to study, since Semi was already there and they agreed to just send you a text.

And then you didn’t acknowledge when your phone vibrated with a text from Ushijima.

The last was when the three boys walked in on the middle of Semi fucking you.

Their reactions all differed at the scene in front of them. Reon turned away wide eyed, Tendou grinned widely because he was right, and Ushijima stood frozen.

There were a few moments before you and Semi realized you had an audience and scrambled to cover yourselves up.

And Ushijima was sure those few moments were going to be engrained in his head for a very long time.

He was also sure the way his stomach turned and heart sank would accompany the memory every time he thought of it.

Because the sight of your legs tossed over Semi’s shoulders while he fucked you, the way your face screwed up in pleasure, eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slack as a high pitched moan of Semi’s name left your lips. Well— it was not going to be easy to forget.

Hours later when everyone was back in their own dorms and Ushijima finally had enough time to figure out why the image of you with another man rattled him so deeply, he finally admitted it.

“I like (F/N).”

And Tendou grinned.

~~~~

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