#anyway a friend suggested something today that I’m sure is probably correct and I’d like it not to be so definitely scheduling this sooooo

[inquirenorth]

.

[sluttywonwoo]

pretend || j.ww x reader

Summary: reading thirst tweets with your co-star/boyfriend’s best friend makes things a little tense

Warnings: swearing, smut mentions (18+)

Word Count: 1.8k

a/n:  originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

The sound of Mingyu cracking his knuckles next to you sent a shiver down your spine, making you cringe instinctively. You turned to glare at him and leaned away from the noise.

“I hate when you do that!” you groaned.

He smirked. “I know, that’s why I like doing it.”

You looked over at Wonwoo, who was sitting across the room with the crew, and pointed to Gyu. 

“Can you tell your best friend to stop being annoying?”

“Can you tell your girlfriend to stop being dramatic?” Mingyu retaliated.

“I’m not picking sides!” Wonwoo shouted back and held up his hands in surrender.

You let your jaw drop. “I’ll remember that, Jeon.”

“Baby, I-” Wonwoo started to defend himself, but fell silent when the producer got up from her chair and approached you and Mingyu who were sitting behind the camera. 

“Which one of you wants to take this?” she asked, holding up a large insulated jug full of paper strips. 

“I’ll take it,” Mingyu offered and set the cup in his lap. 

“What a gentleman,” you said, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. 

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” he muttered, “because you’re so fucking annoying.”

“Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

The producer gave you both a sideways look. “Are you guys alright? Should we take a minute before starting?”

“No, we’re fine,” you assured her.

“We don’t actually hate each other,” Mingyu added, “this is just how... we are.”

She didn’t look any less concerned, but nodded anyway. “Okay, well remember what your director said about playing up your chemistry to promote the show. And when we call action just give a quick slate and start reading the tweets.”

She walked back over to her spot next to the cameraman and took a seat before looking over a checklist that had been handed to her and writing some notes on it.

“Nervous?” Mingyu whispered to you as you both waited for your cue.

“A little,” you admitted. “You?”

“I’m a bit on edge,” he concurred. “Mostly because your boyfriend is about to watch me read filthy comments about you on-camera.”

You glanced over at Wonwoo who gave you an encouraging smile and a thumbs-up. “He’ll be fine. How bad can they be?”

From a distance, the producer you had just spoken to called for everyone to be quiet on set and signaled the cameras to start rolling. You perked up and straightened your dress, waiting for Mingyu to take the lead. 

“Hi guys, I’m Kim Mingyu.”

“And I’m y/n y/l/n.”

“You might recognize us from our new Netflix series, Breaking Curfew, where we play opposite each other in what you might call a... complicated romantic relationship.”

“We’re enemies with benefits,” you summarized. “And today we’re here with Buzzfeed to read thirst tweets about each other.”

“Ladies first,” Mingyu said and held the cup out to you.

You closed your eyes and sifted through the strips of paper with one hand, selecting one at random. 

“Okay, this one’s about you. ‘Kim Mingyu has the prettiest eyes’.” You grinned as you watched your co-star’s cheeks turn pink. “He’s totally blushing right now! We haven’t even gotten to the good stuff!”

“Thank you very much to whoever tweeted that,” Mingyu said and cleared his throat. 

“I agree with this person,” you continued, “you do have really pretty eyes.”

“Aw, thank you, y/n.”

“You’re welcome.”

“My turn.” Mingyu closed his eyes and rummaged around the cup before picking one. “‘Someone tell y/n y/l/n that I’m single and I get a discount at Olive Garden if she ever wants to let me take her out on a date’.”

You chuckled. “I do like Olive Garden.”

“She’ll get back to you on that one, mate,” Mingyu said quickly and let the crumpled piece of paper fall to the floor. 

You took that as a sign to move on so you reached into the jug and pulled out another tweet.

“Oh, this one’s about me again. ‘Y/n y/l/n scissor me challenge’.” You clapped a hand over your mouth in shock and thrust the slip of paper towards Mingyu.

“You know what, props for being so bold. What do you think, y/n? Are you going to take them up on the offer?”

“I’ll think about it,” you managed to choke out, sending Mingyu into a laughing fit. You fanned yourself with your hand as you tried to recover and motioned for your co-star to read another one. “Your turn.”

“‘Kim Mingyu and y/n y/l/n are my dream celebrity threesome,’” he read. “What a compliment, don’t you think?”

“Oh, for sure,” you agreed and winked as you held your hand to your ear in a call me motion. 

“These are just getting more and more vulgar, aren’t they?” Mingyu asked. 

“I don’t know that anything can beat the scissoring one,” you pointed out as you fished another tweet from the bucket. “Another one about Mingyu, okay. ‘I wanna suck Kim Mingyu’s soul through his dick then spit it back in his face’.” You blinked at the piece of paper in front of you in shock, scanning back over it to make sure you had read it right the first time. “Jesus... christ.”

Mingyu smirked and nudged your shoulder with his. 

You ignored him and pointed a finger at the camera in disgust. “I cannot believe you made me read this with my own two eyes. I could have lived my entire life without seeing those words in a sentence together!”

“I think that’s the best compliment I’ve ever received,” Mingyu countered, running a thumb along his jawline cockily. 

“No, I have beef with whoever tweeted that now.”

“You’re just jealous that I like this tweet better than the threesome one.”

You sighed. “This interview was a bad idea. Your head is already so god damn big.”

Mingyu opened his mouth to retaliate, but paused like he had thought better of it and took a deep breath to compose himself. 

“Anyway, moving on.”

You watched as he sifted through the tweets and chose one from the bottom, reading it to himself and grinning slightly before reading it aloud. 

“‘Petition for y/n y/l/n to start an OnlyFans because I just know her tits are incredible. I can feel it in my bones’.”

You brought your hands up to your boobs self-consciously and laughed. “I don’t know about that, but thank you.”

“I’ve seen them,” Mingyu added nonchalantly, “and I can confirm that twitter user ‘geminisuns’ is correct.”

“Mingyu!” 

“What? Do you know how many sex scenes we had to shoot? We’ve seen each other naked plenty of times.”

You looked back over to the crew and made eye contact with the producer. “Do you see what I have to deal with?”

“Maybe we should take a quick break,” she suggested and motioned for the cameras to stop rolling. “Get a drink, freshen up and be back here in five.”

“Do you think they’re going to use that part?” Mingyu asked as he followed you over to the water cooler. 

“I don’t know, dude,” you sighed in annoyance, “but great fucking job. The whole world already thinks we’re boning.”

“I don’t know about the whole world.” You glared at him. “Wonwoo knows we’re not.”

Wonwoo. You had nearly forgotten that your boyfriend was there on set with you. You looked around for him, and saw him still sitting in his designated guest chair looking at his phone. You could only imagine what he must be thinking of all of this. You should probably say something to him. 

You told Mingyu that you’d be back and made your way across the room to Wonwoo. Even from a distance you could tell that he was upset. 

His knuckles were pale and his jaw was tight. He didn’t look up at you when you approached him. 

“Sorry this is taking longer than expected,” you said, brushing a stray curl out of his eyes. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured in response, still not looking at you. 

You sighed and draped yourself across him, slinging your arms loosely across his shoulders as you leaned down to see what he was doing on his phone. He was scrolling aimlessly on Instagram, not even liking any of the posts. 

“If you’re bored you can leave,” you said curtly and stood back up. 

“I’m not bored.”

“You’re not even paying attention to the shoot.”

“Trust me, it’s impossible not to. I’ve been trying to tune it out for the past ten minutes with no luck.”

“Why would you not want to pay attention?” you demanded even though the answer was sitting right in front of you. “This is a big deal for me.”

Wonwoo swallowed and finally looked up at you. “I know, baby. It’s just- do you know how hard it is to listen to my best friend talk about doing all of these dirty things to you-”

“He’s my best friend too,” you pointed out in a quiet hiss. “The only reason we’re together is because of him.”

Sometimes you felt the need to remind Wonwoo that you had known Mingyu longer than you had known him. If Gyu hadn’t brought him to set all those times back when you were filming in the fall, you wouldn’t even know about each other’s existence. 

“I know that.”

“You’ve done interviews like this before,” you argued. 

“I know,” he repeated.

“Then why are you being like this?” He didn’t answer, so you kept going. “You know my bare ass has been on tv, right-”

“Don’t,” Wonwoo warned and grabbed your wrist.

You gasped and flexed your fingers gingerly in his grasp, challenging him. “Don’t what?” 

“Y/n,”

“Don’t... act like I want to fuck your best friend?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “You’re enjoying this.” It wasn’t a question.

“Don’t pretend like I’d rather fulfill those tweets with him instead of you? Give the people what they want?”

You had to bite your tongue before you went any further and said something you might regret. Your words had already had the desired effect. You didn’t even have to look at Wonwoo’s lap to know that he was struggling not to get hard. 

You could see it in his eyes. The arousal that had turned the warm brown into black. The way he was looking at you told you everything you needed to know. You wondered if you would even make it back home before he’d break, if he would pull the car over on the side of the road and take you then and there. 

Your knees were weak at the mere thought of what you were in for later that night. Making Wonwoo jealous was admittedly one of your favorite pastimes, purely for selfish reasons. Possessive sex was arguably the best sex. The teasing, the hair-pulling, the choking, the face-fucking, all hit different when Wonwoo was reminding you who you belonged to. 

Wonwoo released your wrist from his grip and raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Are you finished?”

You shook your head and grinned. “Just getting started.”

lmk what you thought; i always appreciate feedback!!

wonwoo tags: @wonw00t

shoot me an ask to be added/removed from my taglist

[teasty]

kiss yourself (02) |h.js (m)

● pairing: han jisung x (female) reader 

● genre: angst, smut, (kinda) fluff  ||  fwb to lovers au 

● warnings: | praise | reader and jisung are not in a relationship at the beginning! | suggestive dialogue | profanity | safe sex | cunnilingus | angry reader wants to commit arson lol |

● words: 7.0k

→ summary: It all started when you and your best friend for life, Han Jisung, got a little bit too tipsy at a party and ended up waking up naked in the same bed. After that unfortunate night, you and Jisung confirmed there be a distinguished “friends with benefits” relationship between the two of you, with a few rules.

Number One: No one else is supposed to know about this relationship. 

Number Two: The minute one of the two of you starts a serious relationship with someone, the benefits are cut off immediately. 

Number Three: Have to respect the other’s wishes, if one doesn’t want to do it, then there’s no argument.

Number Four: No falling in love.

But, when Jisung starts crushing over your classmate, you start to break the rules. One by one.

● taglist: @itzgabz22

Chapter One | CHAPTER TWO | Chapter Three

“Oh, baby, I’m going to fuck you so good…”

You debated arson the next morning.

You woke up to the sound of screaming over the phone before the sun even came up, and realized that Jeongja was screaming her head off at some poor sap that probably didn’t deserve it. Well, who knows, you’re just mad that she didn’t even bother to leave the dorm room and go scream out in the hallway to give you your peace and another two hours of sleep. She didn’t even bother to apologize to you, only giving you a wave before she gathered some things and dashed out the door.

So, of course, you weren’t really the most happy - go - lucky person today. You decided to be lazy today and just wore an oversized gray tee shirt underneath a black jacket and a pair of denim blue ripped jeans. You didn’t even bother to do your hair, deciding to just let it flow around your shoulders and do it’s thing.

You didn’t see Jeongja again that day. You expected to see her somewhere on campus since you wanted to speak, no, yell at her why she should never, ever scream at three fifty in the morning and not even bother to apologize about it and then go running off. You debated calling her, but you didn’t want to deal with it, especially when you have better things to worry about.

It wasn’t really supposed to be a busy day, but it turned out to be just that. You’re a member of a specific team mostly meant for the organization and well being of the school. It could be considered something like a student council, but you’re not really in charge of the students, just more planning for future events and other things as well as budgeting. You’re only on this team because you were specifically chosen by a group of professors choosing students by their major. So, you, a political science major, got specially chosen for the job. Whether or not you wanted to be a part of the team, you were persuaded into it by professors, saying it’ll be beneficial for future decisions in your career as a politician.

There were only another seven students on the team. One of which, thankfully, is someone you know and trust, Christopher Bang. You both became good friends after you met him that one night months ago. Especially being on this team together made you both closer, and he was a lot friendlier than you had first imagined.

There’s another girl you know on the team, but you couldn’t call her your friend. Sure, you two talked often and never had any reason to dislike each other, but something about her just wasn't right with you. Her name is Jun Chunae. A beautiful young woman in your year, as well as your same major. She’s quite refined and civilized, if anything a little bit too proper for your liking. Whenever you tried to talk about parties, drinking or even just going out with friends for fun, she always liked to lecture you on how it’s disrespectful to the education system to ignore it’s attempt to educate us by going out and partying at night.

Other than that, she’s alright.

But, another thing about Chunae that never really sparked you right was how she acted when she was with Jisung. You had only learned recently that they’re quite touchy - feely with each other. You didn’t think they were friends, but it was obvious that Chunae had the hots for Jisung. But, with Jisung, you couldn’t really tell if he was attracted to her or not. He kind of treated her the way he treats every other girl, including you. And, that fact kind of made you upset. You know that you’re only his friend, but you have benefits that no other girl, to your knowledge, has. No, you don’t want to be treated like his girlfriend, but you didn’t just want to be treated like the only girl in the world one night only to watch him kissing up to someone else the next.

Were you jealous? Yeah, you were. You weren’t too fond of a girl you don’t exactly trust being too intimate with Jisung, your best friend. But, you’d never, ever, admit that to Jisung.

He’d cut things off the minute he hears that you’re jealous. He’d think you’re falling for him, and then try everything in his power to make sure nothing happens between the two of you. And that you’ll only stay his friend, with or without those stupid benefits.

But, back to the point at hand, you were pulled early out of your last class to attend a meeting for the team. You had met up with Christopher on your way to the conference room, since he had a class nearby your own.

“What could they want this time? And, here I thought we finally got out of these dumb meetings,” you whined, and Christopher laughed, nodding along as he agrees.

“I’m not sure,” Christopher sighs, shoving his hands into his pockets, “I think Chunae would be sure to know,” Christopher rolls his eyes. Chunae was always the smart one of the group. She usually knew things before the rest of the team would know, which, in your eyes, was completely unfair. “Nothing against the girl, I just don’t like how she gets all these benefits just ‘cause she kisses the professor’s asses.”

“Right. I get what you mean,” you nod slowly, “But, it must be important if they pulled us out early without notifying us beforehand. It must be for some kind of event going on. No clue, though. We haven’t had a festival yet, so they might start one since winter’s coming soon.”

“Maybe a festival for the first snow?” Christopher suggests.

You shrug a shoulder, “Who knows. I don’t bother checking the weather, so snow could be falling any day, really. But you would think they would at least shoot us an email, right?”

“Who am I kidding, they don’t really care too much to ask if we’re free for a meeting. I was planning on going out with some friends tonight, but if this meeting is just like any other, then I might have to cancel.” Christopher looks down, obviously upset about the situation.

“Hey, don’t be so down about it. We might end early. And, if they do try to keep us in late, then just say you had plans and leave. It’s not like they’re going to kick out or anything. Besides, we’re already only eight people, we need more members, anyways.” You reassure, giving Christopher a friendly pat on the shoulder. You let your hands rest in your pocket, “Were you going to go with Jisung?’

“No, he said he had things to do,” Christopher shakes his head, not minding how you asked about Jisung, since you usually did to keep tabs on him, “No clue what, since that boy complains twenty - four seven about how boring it is in his dorm and how his roomie is usually doing his own thing. So it was just going to be Hyunjin, Changbin, Felix, Minho, Seungmin and I. We were gonna go to a bar. I’d invite you, but I don’t know how comfortable you would be around a bunch of guys without Jisung.”

“Yeah… Thanks for the consideration, though. I haven’t gone out drinking in a while. It might’ve been fun, but I think I would have had things to do tonight, anyways,” You give him a half - hearted smile, and Christopher bothers you a glance before his eyes shoot forward again. “Oh, hey, we’re here already.” You laugh to yourself as you stand in front of a wooden door with the word ‘CONFERENCE’ on it. Christopher opens the door for you, and you walk in. It’s dimly lit, and you weren’t surprised to see Chunae sitting at the head of the table, scrolling through her laptop as a professor sat next to her, mumbling about who knows what.

Her eyes shoot up the moment she hears the door open, and she shoots both you and Christopher a well practiced business smile before she takes her hands off her laptop and bows her head in welcome. Both you and Christopher bow back in respect, especially since a professor is present, and you both take a seat next to each other. “Hello (Y/N), Christopher. Good to see you guys made it. You have our apologies for pulling you out of class at random, but it’s quite important. Let's wait for the others before we start.”

“How important is it?” You ask, leaning back in the comfortable chair, raising a suspicious brow at Chunae, who closes her laptop.

“We’re holding an event, (Y/N),” Chunae says matter - of - factly, as if you should have known this by now, “It’s for the start of winter for the first snow. We’re going to do things a bit differently, a bit more western. It’s going to be… something like a dance. Except, we will have a performer and activities present, but for the majority of it, it’s a dance for the start of winter.”

“Called it,” Christopher raises a hand, and Chunae raises a thin, neatly trimmed brow at Christopher.

“Barely. It’s not like it’s a festival,” you hold back laughter as Christopher shrugs, still proud of his semi - correct assumption.

“Well, it can either be considered a festival or dance. Doesn’t really matter,” Chunae says, and Christopher snorts, and you glare at him. You fold your arms over your chest, making Chunae smile at your stubbornness, “Oh, come on, (Y/N). This will be fun. First, we must figure out budgeting and organization, as well as fitting everything into the school’s schedule. Other than that, it should mostly be advertising and preparation.”

After Chunae’s short description of what’s going to happen, the other team members glide in one by one. They all wave or bow to you, Christopher, the professor and to Chunae. All taking their respective seats and waiting for Chunae to begin the meeting. The professor left shortly after, not without bidding us good luck.

“Oh, and Chunae?” Christopher pipes up, and Chunae raises her brows at Christopher, giving him her attention, “How long are you going to keep up here. I originally had plans to go out with friends, so I don’t want to stay here until eleven like last time, if you can help it.”

“This is a very vital meeting, Christopher,” Chunae says, and Christopher rolls his eyes, looking away, “I don’t care if you want to go out with friends or not, this meeting might be long and that’s alright. You may choose to leave when you feel like it, but you might be absent for important information. It’s your choice.”

“Then why can’t you just e - mail me the information I missed?” Christopher shrugs a shoulder, and you nod in agreement.

“Because it’s better to discuss in person, is it not?” Chunae stands up, picking up her laptop, “We will debate on different things, as well as discuss things. It’s difficult to discuss in real time over e - mail.”

“Then call me. I’ve got things planned, Chunae, you can’t just pull us out of nowhere and expect us to keep our mouths shut when you don’t even warn us beforehand that there’s going to be a meeting. Sorry, Chunae, but you’re not in charge,” Christopher sighs, obviously irritated. Chunae waits with a stoic expression.

“I’m sorry, Christopher. I really am. I know I’m not in charge, but the professors have trusted me with the information I’m about to share. If you take this role responsibly, you’ll stay without argument. If you don’t, then leave. You won’t be kicked from your spot, but, as said before, you will miss a lot of vital information. It’s your choice in the end,” Chunae responds, and Christopher sighs, deciding not to argue further.

And after that little dispute, Chunae started the meeting by explaining what’s going on. And, as said before, the school is hosting a dance, which is not something ordinary for Korean colleges, since festivals usually took place in spring and usually was just with an invited idol to perform for a few hours. Chunae explained that this dance is mainly supposed to mark the end of fall and a new quarter, as well as the first seeing of snow. It was obvious, even though she never directly said it, that it’s mostly meant for couples and friends.

Each team member was given a specific task to do. Before Christopher left to go out with friends, he was given the task of budgeting. You were in charge of consulting, which was mostly just getting people to fund as well as finding performers, DJs, hosts and other people. It’s a lot of social work you weren’t too excited for, but you knew you had to take responsibility and do the job whether or not you wanted to do it.

Though it was quite boring, you had gotten a text midway through it. Chunae gave you a subtle glare, but didn’t care for how you responded to the text and carried on with the meeting.

It was Jisung.

heard you were pulled into a meeting. how long will u be there?

You responded quickly, keeping your phone under the table as you typed, your hands somewhat trembling, and you had to calm yourself as you typed.

wont be leaving for another hour or two. its pretty big. ill let you know when im leaving

He responded to you, but you didn’t bother to look at it as you shoved your phone back in your pocket.

“And who was that?” Chunae asks after a moment, staring down at you.

“Why do you wanna know?” Your brows furrow, and Chunae sighs.

“Because I’m talking about something important and you’re texting.”

“It’s my friend. Calm down, he’s just wondering when I’m getting off,” you raise your hands in a mocking surrender, and Chunae’s chin lifts higher.

“Hmm. Is it Jisung? Han Jisung? He’s your friend, is he not?” Chunae asks, and you begin to feel annoyance pile through you.

“Yeah, he is. What about it?” You ask, and Chunae shrugs her shoulders.

“I was just wondering,” Chunae sits back down in her seat, the others watching the conversation between the two of you with curious eyes. Chunae stuffs a lock of hair behind her ear, “He’s quite the looker. I hope I have your blessing if anything were to happen between us.”

“I don’t care what happens between the two of you guys,” you spit out, lying straight through your teeth. You do care. You care a lot. A part of you would be happy for Jisung, but another part doesn’t want him to leave you hanging for a girl like Chunae. You know she would treat him well and that Jisung might be better off with a girl like Chunae, but that jealous part of you doesn’t want to let him go. You love the sneaking around, the overnight sessions and even the semi - public ones. You’re not really ready to let that go, yet. It’s only been a few months. You didn’t expect for someone to be kissing up to Jisung this soon, but you should have expected it. “He’s my best friend. As long as you treat him well, then I might not consider punching your teeth in if you do end up with him.”

Chunae laughs, and you tensely chuckle through your nose along with her, “Well, I’m sure Jisung is happy to have a friend like you, (Y/N). So protective. Sometimes I’ve gone to wonder if you two are really in a relationship or not.”

“Yeah. You two basically hang off of each other, you’re around each other all of the time,” says another team member who you recognized as Naeyeon. Someone you didn’t bother to get to know. She didn’t seem to like you that much, anyways.

“It’s none of your business in the first place, if we were in a relationship. Which, we’re not,” you snap, not really in the mood to talk about Jisung right now, “Can we get back to the main focus?”

“Yes, my apologies, (Y/N). I shouldn’t invade your personal life like that in a professional environment like this,” Chunae stands up again, and you sigh. Already tired of this meeting.

At the end, you’re given loads of papers to go through considering consultation, and you weren’t ready to study them just yet. Your backpack got ten times heavier as you stuffed them in there, and you were the first one to leave when Chunae called the meeting to an end. You didn’t even bother to wave goodbye as you slammed through the door, basically speed - walking to get out of the main building and to the dorm rooms.

As said before, you had nothing against Chunae. In fact, you’d like to get to know her past her proper and all - to civilized self. If she were to let loose, she might be really fun, in your eyes. Her whole aura just sets you off, sometimes. Sometimes, she can get pretty stuck up, and you’re not sure how Jisung could handle her if he continuously complains about your stubbornness.

Speaking of Jisung, one of the first things you did when you basically ran out of the conference room was text Jisung that the meeting’s finally over and if you should start heading there.

He never answered faster.

He said you should head there, but to be careful of security since it’s so late. You were cautious, but thankfully no officer was out this late, even though it was only ten - thirty at night and curfew was thirty minutes ago. It’s a pretty long walk to Jisung’s dorm, though, since it’s on the top floor of the (decently huge) building. Since it’s past curfew, the elevators weren’t in working order anymore, and you had to take the stairs to the top floor, which absolutely killed your feet. But, once you made it to the familiar dorm door, you rested against the doorframe before knocking softly.

It takes Jisung a minute to open the door. You take that time to relax your weight against the doorframe, but your peace is short-lived when the door swings open so fast you almost lose balance of yourself by how fast Jisung opens the door. So, it takes you a short moment to actually take in Jisung’s appearance. His hair is messy and damp, and it’s obvious he has just showered most likely not too long ago. He wears a pair of gray sweatpants and no shirt, and you try not to gawk at his well built and defined body. He stares down at you silently, a small smirk playing at his lips as his half - lidded eyes scan over your body.

But, after that moment, he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you inside. The moment the door is slammed shut and locked behind you, he presses you against the door. Your heart beats rapidly against your chest as Jisung’s hands grip your wrists and pin you to the door. His face mere centimeters away from yours, and you can feel his warm breath against your lips. Your backpack falls to the floor. No matter how many times you’ve had sex with Jisung, he’s never been one for intimate kissing in your relationship with him. Which, to you, was weird since he always tried to get playful kissing from you out of sex or even from his other friends. Sure, you’ve both kissed before, but usually it’s not very intimate.

But, he kisses you before you could say anything. His hands firmly, yet gently gripping your wrists and pinning them to the door as his lips find themselves planted against yours. His soft lips move with yours in a passionate sync, and you don’t hesitate when you kiss him back. Your hands balled into fists as Jisung presses his body against yours, both of your eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. Chills shoot through your body as Jisung’s lips capture yours in a slow, yet lust filled kiss. It’s not rushed nor sloppy, but filled with desire and crave. You let yourself melt into his kiss, his experienced lips having you succumb to him, and you could already feel yourself dripping wet from just this simple kiss.

To you, however, it wasn't so simple. You never usually get this chance to have Jisung kiss you so passionately. You never bothered to ask why, and mostly thought he didn’t want to do it because, during sex, it’s something mostly only real couples would do. Not friends with benefits. So, when his tongue meets with yours in a euphoric, blissful way, you try to savor the feeling. Knowing this might be one of few chances you’ll get to actually enjoy such a kiss, you try to make it last as long as you can.

Jisung’s lips eventually lift off of yours, but he leads a trail of firm, wet kisses down your jawline and over your neck. His tongue licking stripes up your neck as he sucks on the delicate skin. Your womanhood throbs from the feeling, and your legs press together. Jisung’s hands let go of your wrists, and you let your hands grip onto Jisung’s hair. His hands creep underneath your shirt and hoodie, lifting them up as his cold hands meet with your warm skin. His hands feel up your waist, and your head falls back, your kiss - bruised mouth opening from the bliss.

“What… What’s gotten into you tonight?” You mumble out, your arms wrapping around Jisung’s neck, pressing him further against you as his hands firmly brush over your ass and up your back.

Jisung’s lips brush against the lobe of your ear and he chuckles deeply, sending chills through you and you let out a pathetic whimper because of it, “Can’t I do something for a friend?” He says this in just above a whisper, his voice deeper and huskier than normal. And then he goes back to pressing kisses underneath your ear, trailing down your neck, moving one hand up to move your hair out of the way.

You don’t argue with him, and you let him dominate you.

Jisung pulls off your hoodie along with your tee shirt. Pulling you away from the door as he throws the articles of clothing to the side. He guides you to his bed, having you lay down on your back as Jisung pulls himself over you. Trapping you underneath him, and your hands fly to the sides of your head, succumbing to him. Jisung pushes himself down, now pressing kisses to your collarbone and over your chest. One hand fumbling with the straps of your bra, pushing them down your shoulders before they tamper with the clip.

Jisung doesn’t even hesitate to rip off your bra, and throw it alongside the other articles of clothing (most of which landed on Jeongin’s bed, and you would do something about it if you weren’t so caught up in the moment with Jisung). You let in a deep, sharp inhale when your warm breasts make contact with the cool air. Jisung looks down at you, examining your exposed breasts before his eyes flicker up to meet yours. Your face is flushed a beautiful pink, and Jisung stares at your face, loving the flustered expression you’re making before his head dips down. One hand flying up to cup one breast, his hands moving efficiently and swiftly as he firmly massages it. His lips kissing down your other breast before his tongue makes contact with your erect bud.

You emit a breathy moan as chills run through your body as Jisung suckles on one breast while his hand plays with the other. His thumb running over and pressing against the hard bud as he firmly massages your breast in circles. His tongue working wonders over your sensitive nipple, and your teeth capture your bottom lip in between them as your hands run through his hair, letting out soft whimpers here and there when he sucks harshly on your breast or pinches your nipple.

“Jisung… Oh, you’re gonna make me pay you back for this, aren’t you?” You breathe out, and Jisung chuckles against you. His tongue pressing against your nipple, and his eyes look up to meet yours.

Once he lets go, your back arches when your breast, which was once warm in the cavern of Jisung’s mouth and tongue, meets the cold air. “You think so lowly of me, baby.” Jisung presses kisses along your chest, going lower and lower, and you watch him with dark, lust filled eyes.

“I’m usually the one blowing you off, Jisung - ah,” you state, “It’s not like you to - mmh…! - do things like this.” The back of your hand presses against your lips as they press into a firm line, trying to hold back whimpers as Jisung’s fingers start to undo the buttons of your jeans. His lips pressing kisses to the bottom of your abdomen; a sensitive area, and it sends sparks of chills up your spine.

“I want to make you feel good, baby,” Jisung breathes out, lips still pressed against your skin as he speaks, his dark eyes flickering up to meet with yours, “Don’t think too much into it. Just let me make you feel good, alright?” You nod quickly, your mouth closing and your hips lift with Jisung’s hands as he slowly pulls off your jeans. “That’s my good girl. My good little (Y/N).” He chuckles darkly, and you whimper softly at both the feeling of your soaked panties meeting the cold air and from Jisung’s praise.

Your thighs are on either side of his head, and Jisung’s hands guide them apart, spreading you out for him. And, boy, is it a sight for sore eyes. Jisung occasionally looking up at you, the eye contact making you even wetter from just the intensity of his eyes. His breath fans your clothed cunt, and your hips jitter and twitch just from that. Jisung cooes at your sensitivity. He knows you’re sensitive, but since things are usually rushed, he’s never really taken the chance to slowly edge you on. “My baby girl is so sensitive and I haven’t even touched her pussy…”

Jisung’s finger makes contact with your clothed cunt, pressing against your labia and firmly pressing up and over your clit. Your hips stutter at the feeling, and Jisung watches you as your eyes squeeze shut and your head falls back. Your mouth opening to let out a beautiful, breathy moan.

But, you weren’t prepared for when Jisung pulls off your panties, his hands having to fly up to stop your thighs from slamming against either side of his head. “Ah - ah - ah… keep your legs spread for me.” He guides your legs back, spread apart and resting against the sheets. A slight burn on your inner thighs from the stretch. You watch Jisung as one arm wraps around one of your thighs, his other hand caressing your other thigh, and he presses a wet kiss on your inner thigh. Dangerously close to your exposed pussy. And, oh, how exposed you feel. Usually, you both do quickies in bathrooms or the car or somewhere where you have to put your clothes back on quickly. You’re never, usually, completely nude in front of him. So you couldn’t deny that you were a bit embarrassed by how exposed you were to him.

Your head flies back, and you finally let out your first vocal moan when Jisung’s mouth comes in contact with your pussy. His tongue pressing against your wet cunt and his lips kissing your folds. Jisung smirks against you, his tongue working wonders on your throbbing cunt. His warm mouth engulfing your cunt, and your hands brush through his hair. Gripping onto either his hair or the sheets by you as Jisung’s tongue lickes stripes up your labia, occasionally teasing your sensitive, aching clit.

Your moans get even louder when one of Jisung’s fingers begins to tease your entrance, his mouth now more focused on your clit. His middle finger slowly enters you, and you clench around him. “Oh, fuck, Jisunggie… That feels so good.” You whimper out as Jisung’s knuckles meet with you, as his finger is fully flush inside of you. Your warmth engulfing his finger, clenching around him, looking for something more. He chuckles against you, his tongue still licking up your clit, sometimes pressing sloppy kisses to it. His finger slowly begins to thrust in and out of you. More of a slow drag than a thrust.

Your mind fogs as Jisung slowly begins to add more and more fingers, his pace still slow, but fast enough to make you whimper delicately when his fingers hit a certain spot deep inside your wet, warm walls. His other hand gripping your thigh firmly, but not firm enough to leave a mark of any kind. You gently moan out his name, and it only seems to give him more and more confidence to be just a little bit rougher, but still being euphorically slow and steady.

However, it’s when he sucks gently on your clit and roughly drags three fingers out, stretching you out, before letting them roughly ram back into you, hitting your G - Spot, when you feel your climax nearing. Your back arches, and your hands grip the sheet by your head tightly as you let out a moan, “Ji… Baby, oh fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Your bottom lip becomes captured in between your teeth as your hips begin to stutter and twitch, bucking up into Jisung, but his free hand tries to hold you down. He didn’t respond. In fact, he didn’t even look up at you. His brows furrow, focused solely on your climax. He doesn’t slow down either. He only speeds up. Sucking on your clit while his fingers thrust into you.

When your climax hits, you let out a string of loud moans, both incoherent curse words and Jisung’s name. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and your mouth opens. Your back arching off of the bed as you cum on Jisung’s fingers. His fingers rut slowly into you, twisting and pressing against your G - Spot. His tongue presses against your clit to helpL: you ride out your high.

His lips detach from your throbbing pussy, and his fingers slowly pull out of you. His fingers coated in your cum. Jisung takes a moment to catch his breath. He looks up at you, and you're still coming back from your orgasm, the sense of overwhelming bliss. Jisung climbs up, trapping you under him once more. Your legs still spread for him, and Jisung pulls you into another kiss.

You can taste yourself on his tongue. It’s bitter, but you don’t care. You don’t care for how gross it may be, you just want to kiss him. You just want all of him.

Your arms wrap around his neck, and Jisung’s hands caress your thighs, “Oh, baby, I’m going to fuck you so good… You want that? Want me to fuck you, baby girl?”

Your head leans back and Jisung’s lips graze over your neck, “Yes, Jisung. I want you to fuck me hard… Want you to fill me, please. Please, Jisung, I need you so bad.”

Jisung smirks, already pulling down his sweats, “I fucking love how you beg for me. Only for me.” You moan out in response. Jisung finally lets his hard cock free, and it presses to his abdomen. Leaking with precum, just from eating you out. The tip is a pretty pink, and you bask in the thought how you, alone, can make him so hard. Jisung gets on his knees, and you watch how he takes a condom from his nightstand drawer and rips it open. Preparing his cock into it before his tip presses against your cunt, still sensitive from your last orgasm.

“You ready for me, baby?” Jisung asks, moving your hips up to align with his cock, which is barely pressing against your entrance. You nod frantically, the only thing coursing through your mind being how badly you want Jisung’s cock inside you. How ready you are for him. “Use your words, (Y/N).”

“Yes… Goddamn it, Jisung, just fuck me already, please. I need it so bad,” You whimper out, irritated by the emptiness inside you.

Jisung laughs darkly, “Feisty, now are we? I like your pride, (Y/N), but I’ll be sure to shut you up, got it?” And, without warning, Jisung presses into you. Your hand flies up to cover your mouth as Jisung’s hard cock slowly drags deeper and deeper into you. Filling you to the brim, and stretching you out more than his fingers ever could. Jisung’s hand grips your wrist, pinning it to the bed, “No, no. I want to hear your voice. Wanna hear your pretty moans as I break you.”

Jisung is slow, painfully slow at first. You’re wondering how he could hold back, since he usually tends to fuck you like no tomorrow. Jisung slowly drags himself out, feeling your walls clench around him, before pushing himself back in. His head dips down to watch his cock disappear into your soaking pussy, and he lets out small groans as you let out breathy moans with each thrust. “Ji… Jisung - ah… Faster, please.” Jisung looks up at you, a smirk edging on his lips before he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“As you wish, (Y/N),” and so he followed through with your plea, and slowly started to pick up speed. His forehead presses against the side of your head as your legs wrap around his waist, allowing him to get even deeper inside you. With every thrust, you can feel his tip meet your cervix, and it’s such an intense feeling, you could cum right there with just enough force. But, you want this to last. You want to savor this moment for as long as you can.

Soon enough, Jisung flips you over, pressing the side of your face into the mattress as he gets on his knees. He leans over you, pressing his chest against your back and moves your hair to the side to give himself the access he needs to press wet kisses to the back of your neck, sending chills down your spine as he enters you once more. His hands grip your wrists as he groans into your neck, your loud moans muffled by the pillow below you as Jisung rams into you. His cock moving fast against your walls, giving such a blissful, burning sensation inside you that you want even more of. His hips meet over and over again with your ass as he thrusts into you. Your moans echo through the room, and at this point, you don’t care if anyone overheard you.

“Oh, fuck, baby. God, I love your pussy so much,” Jisung moans out next to your ear, and you don’t have the stability to respond to him, only with pathetic moans falling out of your lips. “Drivin’ me goddamn crazy…” Jisung grumbles as he sits himself up. His hands gripping your hips firmly to move you with him, sending you back with his thrusts as he fucks himself into you.

You can tell when Jisung is nearing his climax, because instead of his usual rhythmic thrusts, his hips begin to stagger and twitch, and his moans rise in pitch and get louder in volume. When he nears his climax, you can feel another one climbing up for you, mostly from the pure oversensitivity from your last orgasm. “Oh my fucking god… Oh fuck, cum with me, (Y/N). Cum with me.” He moans out his words, and your voice gets higher as your back arches once more, meeting your climax. Jisung leans over you again, his forehead resting on the back of your neck as his hands tightly grip your hips as he cums at last into the condom.

“Fucking hell… that was so good,” you breath out, trying to catch your breath. Jisung takes his time to relax his overworked muscles by leaning over you. He takes a minute before he pulls himself up and out of you. Your hips fall, and you wipe off the sweat as Jisung ties off the condom and gets up, tossing it into the bin.

He gets up, going over to his dresser to grab a towel. He cleans you up silently, and you watch him with curious eyes.

The moment he turns away to toss the towel into a hamper, you get up and walk over to Jeongin’s bed to grab the clothes Jisung had thrown onto it. You pick up your bra and shirt, and you barely even notice Jisung behind you before he speaks, “Are you leaving?”

“Don’t you want me to?” You look over to Jisung, who’s now wearing a pair of boxers and nothing more. He’s standing close behind you. You don’t mind the close proximity.

Jisung shakes his head, “No… Stay here tonight. Jeongin won't be back till the weekend.” Your mouth falls ajar slightly, surprised by his words. You pull your shirt over your head and put it on, and Jisung watches you.

“Alright… I’ll stay,” you sigh, and Jisung smiles down at you softly. You turn to face him, your brows furrowed, “But, seriously, what has gotten into you? You’re a bit more… intimate tonight. Didn’t really expect that.”

“What? Can’t I do something for you?” Jisung teasingly smirks at you.

“Well… yeah, but I just didn’t expect you… to do that.” You mumble out, and Jisung laughs.

“Kiss you like that?”

“Yeah.” You shrug a shoulder, “You know what, let’s not think too much into it. I’m tired.” You sigh, and Jisung laughs softly, shaking his head. You climb into his bed, pulling his blanket over you as Jisung turns off the lights and climbs in right next to you. Pressing his chest against your back, and one of his arms wraps around your waist. His chin resting on top of your head. Your heart hammers against your chest, and you try to calm yourself so he wouldn’t hear it. But, it seems impossible. Jisung’s acting weird today, and you want to find out why.

But, the answer comes sooner than you imagined.

“I don’t think we’ll be doing this much longer.”

Your eyes snap open, and your brows furrow. “What… did you say?”

“I said… I don’t think we’ll be doing this much longer,” Jisung repeats, a bit louder than before. You had heard him loud and clear the first time, but it shocked you, “I… I dunno, (Y/N). There’s this girl. And… I really… really like her. God, I sound like a middle schooler, don’t I?” He chuckles, but you don’t respond to him. You stare at the darkness, and Jisung clears his throat awkwardly when he realizes that you’re not responding. His arm squeezes you tightly. “If things work out, we can’t do this anymore.”

“Who is it?”

“Huh?”

“Who is it.”

Jisung chuckles again, and you can tell he’s getting nervous. Whatever the reason is, you don’t know. Maybe he can tell that you’re irritated with this news, “You know that one girl in your political science class? Jun Chunae. It’s her.” You hold back a groan, and roll your eyes. Of course it’s Chunae, “She and I have been hanging out recently. And, god, I think I really like her, (Y/N).”

“Of course,” you scoff, and Jisung props himself up to look at you through the darkness, “Of fuckin’ course it’s Chunae. Always Jun Chunae. That’s why you invited me over, wasn’t it? That’s why you treated me so well tonight, because it’s one of the last times, huh?”

“No, that’s not… that’s not what I’m saying,” Jisung says slowly, as if dipping toes in dangerous waters.

“Don’t lie to me, Jisung,” you snap, “I know you. You don’t like to kiss me before, during or even after sex. You just don’t. You don’t take it slow and you don’t even usually bother to pleasure me. I get it now. It’s not a problem, I’m just a bit upset that you lied to me.”

“And how the fuck did I lie to you,” Jisung doesn’t even ask it, it’s more of a demand. You can hear how he’s getting angry right back at you.

“You said you wanted to do something special for me. You said that this was supposed to be special. But, it’s not. Just for you to cut things off.” You sit up and push Jisung’s arm off of you. You scramble off of the bed, and Jisung laughs bitterly.

“Oh, come on, (Y/N). You’re overreacting,” you can hear Jisung’s smile in his voice, but you don’t smile. You don’t even bother with your underwear and just throw your jeans on. You turn on the light and slip on your shoes. Jisung’s expression falls, “Wait, (Y/N), don’t leave.” You turn back to give him a dead glare, and Jisung brows crease in desperation.

“I don’t think it’s necessary for me to be here if you’re going to start chasing after Chunae, don’t you think?” You say and sling your backpack over your shoulders.

“But, if you just wait a little bit longer… I can…”

“You can what, Jisung?” You turn to face him.

“I…” Jisung trails off.

“Goodnight, Jisung. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You unlock the door and open it, “Thanks for the special night.”

Jisung gives up, and plops back onto the bed as you slam the door behind you.

Now you were really considering arson. And not just for the school, but to just burn down Jun Chunae.

You weren’t in love with Han Jisung. But a part of you was beginning to debate that.

[ahtsumu]

Hm. Take your favorite boys, what do you think they're insecure about?

i wrote for oikawa, atsumu, ushijima, kuroo, and tendou! sorry for the length i just love them so much lol

OIKAWA TOORU: 

not being good enough. this one’s clear as day and everyone knows it but i think there’s another layer to this. i think it’s two-fold. so first of all, he’s insecure about the limits to his skill compared to the monster generation, which is his own problem. but then he’s also insecure about people surpassing him in skill. so not only is the insecurity about something internal, but it’s also affected by external factors. and then you see how his self-hatred (self-hatred may be strong but that’s what the essence of insecurity is, right?) spills over to the way he treats/views others, turning him into this bitter, calculating guy who would work himself dead just prove that he is good enough.

his volatility. listen, for someone as smart as oikawa, he definitely knows it’s not normal to be utterly consumed by the need to even be just a sliver of a bit better than his opponents. and it makes him act in questionable, erratic ways. underneath that calm, put-together facade is a tsunami of ugly emotions that oikawa is highly aware of. i think he’s afraid this side to him will hurt others and makes him a burden, hence his overdone, saccharine, charmer persona. it keeps people at a distance–– emotionally. i think he’s definitely a sweet guy on the inside and genuinely kind to people he doesn’t view as competition (and he actually really appreciates his fans), but because of how he’s scared of exposing his scary side, he overdoes the flamboyant airheadedness. by doing so, he weeds out the people he doesn’t think would stay with him through thick-and-thin anyway.

i like to think that post-timeskip oikawa has dealt with these demons and found a way to just be satisfied. maybe he just needed to expand his horizons. maybe he found a team that was already really good and he, with his setting style, made them great–– better than seijoh could ever have been. olympic gold-medal worthy. he deserves it.

MIYA ATSUMU: 

firstly, i don’t think atsumu’s insecurities are as crippling as oikawa’s. if we factor in his personality based on his volleyball playing style, he’s not the type to overthink or scheme or calculate like oikawa, so i also headcanon him to be less “in his head” and more “in the moment”. this means his insecurities play a smaller role in shaping his personality and are less visible in the manga/anime.

he’s rough around the edges. his speech is coarse (the accent, the slang, the insults) and he fights with osamu in public and he definitely doesn’t shy away from provoking people he barely knows. i bet atsumu sometimes wonders if other people look down upon him because of that. like they might feel like he’s too wild. but i don’t think he dwells on this because he’s also a very confident guy and proud of where he comes from. it’s just a passing thought that sometimes puts a damper on his mood for a bit, and then he’s back to normal.

he’s unlikeable. atsumu has a strong personality–– goofball, airhead, loud, brutally honest, cocky... and he was abandoned by his middle school teammates and classmates for being “an arrogant jerk”. and judging by his behaviour in high school, his middle school years shaped him into a “so what if they hate me?” kinda guy–– meaning, he doesn’t care what random people think of him. what he does care about, though, is if these traits of his impact the way his friends view him or feel because of him. he didn’t grow up with many friends and he probably knows what loneliness feels like. i think he’d hate to feel it again, so he’s a lot more careful about his negative traits around friends. the people who matter.

vulnerability. atsumu’s been shown denying the fact that he was crying even though he was touched by kita’s kindness. that, and how he’s got this huge (and i think purposely overdone) overconfident/brash persona kind of builds a wall of strength around him. in reality, he’s a softie. atsumu’s definitely afraid of people coming into his life and then just leaving because, again, his personality’s an acquired taste and he’s been abandoned before. in his eyes, his softer side is his weaker side because he’s more susceptible to getting hurt.

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI:

letting people down. ushijima lives to be reliable. he wants to be, like his dad described, the ace that makes everyone think “if i toss to him, he’ll definitely score”. he shoulders on so much responsibility and it’s because he needs prove that he is the guy people can depend on. and a lot of it has to do with making his dad–– whom he rarely ever sees–– proud, but a lot of it also has to do with the genuine desire to be strong for others. so to be the exact opposite, to show or maybe even suggest that he isn’t as sturdy as he is (which he definitely has done before, probably with all the team’s losses), i think that’s the one thing that gets him most insecure. or i guess you could say this is his greatest fear: to no longer be reliable.

honestly, i think ushijima is one of the least bothered people in haikyuu, which is why i can only confidently headcanon one insecurity. he’s got amazing tunnel vision and he doesn’t let himself get carried away by emotion. that being said, he has emotions. he’s just able to compartmentalise and focus on what’s important: getting better. if he loses, he doesn’t wallow in self-pity–– he does 100 serves. ushijima turns his insecurities/flaws into strength.

i’d suggest maybe his family situation as a possible soft spot, but by the way he openly answered tendou’s questions it’s clear that he’s not exactly torn up over his parents’ divorce. i think he’d be insecure about getting into a relationship, though. it involves a lot of vulnerability and dedication/time, the latter of which he’s not sure he can take from volleyball. i genuinely believe he never dated in high school because he was way too focused on going to nationals for that. so that lack of experience would also make him just a little uncomfortable about dating as an adult, i think. but he’s also not the type to dwell on these things. he’d probably just go for it. he’s a straight-forward, logical, clear-minded guy.

KUROO TETSUROU: 

his baggage. based on the canon information about his parents being divorced and him not seeing his sister, and then the fanon stuff about him growing up listening to them fight endlessly… there’s a lot of trauma that comes with a dysfunctional family that undoubtedly made him into the self-preserving and cunning captain he is today. he has to be able to figure people out and protect himself in order to survive, but that also means he’s a lot more guarded than most. he’s that guy who gets along with everyone but he wouldn’t call most of them his friends. kuroo likes to keep people at arm’s length to protect them and himself from getting hurt. there’s just too much trauma for another person to deal with, unless they really show him that they won’t just leave him high and dry. even after he’s let them in, i don’t think kuroo would talk much about it.

not knowing what romantic love is supposed to be like. and by love, i mean the act of loving–– not the emotion. i find that with kids who’ve grown up in dysfunctional families or are children of divorce, they’re either extremely hesitant to enter relationships or they impulsively dive into them. i think kuroo’s the former. he’s very intelligent and patient, so i can definitely see him being scared to get involved with other people for their sake. after all, he knows that what he’s experienced in reality about love is not correct–– but at the same time, that’s all he knows. he just doesn’t know what a relationship is supposed to look like. is it a lot of independence? or are you supposed to be attached at the hip? how do you get that comfortable around someone? i think this lack of knowledge makes him insecure about getting into relationships.

TENDOU SATORI:

his appearance. we also all know tendou has had the most trauma being bullied and “overcame” the bullying by embracing the demon persona (just on the court!!), but i highly doubt he’d want to be loved for that off the court. the way he treats his friends shows that he’s a very loving, soft, and playful guy. and he’s more resignedly accepted the fact that everyone’s first impression of him will always be the sadistic, scary-looking demon, but i’m sure it affects the way he interacts with people he believes to be conventionally attractive. like maybe he feels just a little undeserving/unsuitable to be around them.

going over the line. tendou is a really sensitive guy with high emotional intelligence–– partially because of how he’s been forced to learn to read people to figure out their intentions, and partially because he never wants to hurt the people he loves. for example, tendou apologised when he kept badgering ushijima about his father and realised it could be a sensitive subject. but i also feel like because he’s such a rowdy, high-energy guy, sometimes his teasing and mischief can go a little far. maybe it’s a text that reads too rudely, followed by a lag on the receiver’s side. and maybe that’s when the overthinking kicks in. like, “that was really mean, satori. that was too far. you should apologise. what if they were really hurt by that? what if they don’t like you anymore?”

being overlooked. tendou pretty much only exists in relation to ushijima and even though he loves ushijima to death i’m sure sometimes he just feels a little down about the fact that he lives in his shadow. he’s always “ushijima’s friend” or “the middle blocker on ushijima’s team” and he’s rarely recognised for his own existence. i think he’s also accepted this, as shown by when he told ushijima to tell all the future reporters that they were friends. tendou had already accepted how ushijima was destined for attention, no matter how in-your-face he himself was. what i love is how furudate kinda inverts this trope by making tendou the famous guest of a show and talking about ushijima instead. it doesn’t change how much he loves ushijima or how much he’ll continue singing his best friend’s praises, but i think some part of him will always wonder if a new person is only taking interest in him because of his connection to ushijima.

[bokukawas]

All yours

pairing; Hanamaki Takahiro x Reader 

warnings; stalking, anxiety attack, nsfw mentions, fluff & mutual pining

a/n; I enjoyed writing Makki as a lovesick fool way too much

summary; working at a coffee shop, you get a customer that’s a little too interested in you, same as your friend who doesn’t realize you like him just as much

word count; nearly 10k ok I’m sorry I can’t write short fics

 “Makki, he’s here again what do I do!?”

Freaking out a little, you gently massage the bridge of your nose, waiting for your best friend to respond. You had fled to the toilet the second you had put your eyes on the man standing outside the coffee shop door, leaving your co-worker to deal with him.

Working part time as a barista had seemed a good idea to earn some money. After all, you loved making coffee, not only for yourself, but for others as well and just whole-heartily enjoyed the atmosphere of coffee shops. Well that was before you realized how creepy some of the customers could be. Normally they could tell and accept that you were not interested in the least, but that one particularly obtrusive customer just didn’t seem to get it. Or he didn’t want to.

It had started with blatant flirting at the cash register. Then a scribbled phone number with a suggestive message attached to it. After that, he had only started showing up when you were working. Your co-workers had told you he never was there when you weren’t. So to put it short: he was a stalker. A very creepy one. Fuck, why wasn’t Makki answering? Then you remember: he had an interview today. He probably had shut his phone off or put it on silent not to be disturbed. Fuck.

Trying to calm your breathing, you stare at the bathroom door, then at the tiles, counting them in your head to keep your thoughts form circling. It was getting late and you had to close the store alone today. You had noticed it weeks ago, that he was starting to come in later and later in the day, as if he was waiting for the right time to get to you alone. Which would be today. Normally your co-workers stayed longer or even changed shifts with you when they saw he was loitering around, but that wasn’t possible today.

A silent knock pulled you out of your thoughts. “Y/n? Are you all right? He left.”

Clenching your hands into fists, you take a deep breath and steel yourself for what has to be done. You couldn’t just leave and go home now after all.

“Yeah I’m fine, thank you. I’m coming, just give me a second.”

“Take your time” was the silent response to that. Without your co-workers you would have been screwed weeks ago.

Sighing you stand up slowly and walk over to the washbasin, looking in the mirror hanging right above it. You looked ghastly. Everyone could probably tell from miles away how spooked you were over this. You just wished you could do something about this situation, but in fact you couldn’t and the feeling of being powerless made you feel even more on edge.

You send another quick message to Mattsun, Iwaizumi and Oikawa, hoping that at least one of them would look at their phone in the next few minutes. Your co-worker had to leave in a little bit and you would be utterly alone then. And who could guarantee that that creep wouldn’t come back right then, right? He was probably waiting around somewhere, hoping for that exact scenario to happen.

When you step out of the bathroom and rejoin your co-worker behind the counter, she musters you with concern, eyebrows raised.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I can try and cancel my plans for later and stay with you…,” she suggests, waiting for your response. She seemed sincere enough with her offer, but you didn’t want to ruin yet another date for her. You were a grown up after all.

Circling your shoulders to get a little tension out, you shake your head slightly. “No I’m fine, thanks. It’s gonna be alright, he left after all.”

“In fact he didn’t even come in today; he turned around the second he saw you leave for the bathroom when you spotted him.”

“Maybe he finally took the hint.”

Sighing you start to polish the counter and clean up a little. Starting early will only allow you a head start later when you have to close the store.

Your co-worker still didn’t seem reassured.

“Hey… Y/N are you sure about this? I am not mad, I swear, I’d rather know you’re safe than enjoy my date and read about a horrible murder tomorrow morning. What about your boyfriend, can’t he come and pick you up today as well?”

Throwing her a quick glance, you correct her once again. “He is not my boyfriend”, you sigh, “and no, he’s got a job interview right now, I’m not sure when he’s finished.”

“He basically is your boyfriend. And it’s clear as day that you wish him to be”, she laughs, nudging you in the side to take the edge off. Jokingly you shove her away. “He doesn’t seem to notice though. What is it with men not being able to take a hint anyway?” you chuckle.

Well to Hanamakis defense, you never actually implied to him that your feelings had changed, even though they had, long ago. But you were content enough with him as your best friend. That was better than a ruined friendship because of unrequired feelings after all.

“I never told him” you feel obliged to say. “How could he know?”

Your co-worker just raised her eyebrows. “The way you look at him with literal heart eyes sometimes should be enough of a clue for him. Also I’m pretty sure your other friend knows.”

Wincing you shoot her another glance. “Which one?” you ask, panicking. If it was Mattsun you had a problem, because he definitely would have told Makki.

“The one in Argentina.”

Thank god. Oikawa could be a blabbermouth as well, but he was decent in regard of matters like this.

“Through my FaceTime’s?” you ask.

She just nods at that. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice his shit-eating grin every time you talk about Hanamaki to him. It was pretty obvious.” She laughs. “He’s living miles and miles away and he still figured it out right away, I don’t get how Hanamaki hasn’t figured you out already.”

Shrugging, you continue to clean all the surfaces. There were no customers left here, so all you had to do now was close the store, put the money in the safe, clean everything and lock the door behind you. Your eye finds the clock.

“C’mon Kaori, get your pretty ass to your date, I’ve been cockblocking you long enough now.”

She just laughs at that and strips off her apron. “Fine, if you say so.”

“I can just lock the door right behind you and then clean everything in peace, I’ll be fine, I promise. And this way you can tell me about a hopefully more successful love story than my own on Friday.” Winking at her, you shove her into the locker room so that she can get her stuff and be gone.

While she changes and slips out of her work clothes, you check your phone again. Mattsun had answered.

“Are you alright? Did he leave? I can’t come over to walk you home, but call me if you leave, please.”

You type out a quick message to him and put your phone back in your back pocket as Kaori steps out of the locker room.

“Wow. You look stunning,” examining her from head to toe you nod approvingly.

She just laughs at that and punches you in the shoulder. “You’re such a sweet-talker! That comes from you always hanging out with those boys of yours.”

Holding up two lipsticks, she lets you choose. You decide for the slightly darker red, it fits her outfit well and makes her seem mature.

A figure appears in front of the door and your heart violently skips a beat, before Kaori squeals and you realize it must be her date.

“You didn’t tell me he would come and get you!” you laugh as your heart resumes its normal beating pattern.

“Well, what do you think?” she asks as she slowly makes her way to the door, already waving at him.

Pulling a face, you just give her thumbs up. “Nice. I hope he treats you right… well he IS fetching you from work, so that’s a good start right there. Now don’t leave him waiting.” Shoving her outside, you give her another small wave, before you pull the door closed behind her and immediately lock it.

Sighing, you watch her lock her arms with her date and slender down the street. It’s gotten dark outside already. The utter silence of the now empty coffee shop suddenly creeps you out. Fishing your phone out of your back pocket again, you call Mattsun. He answers his phone almost immediately.

“Are you alright?” was the first question he shot at you. You chuckle. When had they gotten so protective over you?

“I’m fine Mattsun. I just got creeped out for a second because it’s so silent now that everyone is gone.”

Explaining to him what has happened earlier, you bring the money to the safe. After that, you start doing your chores and clean the counter, before turning to the coffee machines and putting everything in the dishwasher before turning it on. You could hear him work as well as he quietly chats with you about this and that.

Going into the locker room you notice someone standing in front of the closed coffee shop door and your heart nearly stops as the phone slips from your hand and crashes to the counter.

After taking a double take, you realize it was actually Hanamaki standing there, waving at you with a dumb grin plastered on his face.

“Fuck” you exclaim as you try to calm down again and grab your phone, where Mattsun was currently freaking out. “Y/N? Y/N!? Did something happen? Goddamn answer me!”

Bringing the phone to your ear again, you take in a deep breath before answering. “Sorry Mattsun, Makki just showed up and made me lose my shit.”

You go to the door, keys already in your hand when you spot another figure a little down the street. “Oh shit.”

Turning the key quickly, to let Makki in, who was already starting to talk like a waterfall about the job interview, you pull him in quickly, before throwing the door shut again, frantically trying to get the keys in again to turn it around. Your hands were shaking too much, though.

Hanamaki stops in his track when he realizes you were freaking out, keys in your violently shaking hand, the phone forgotten in the other. He just guides your hand back to your ear, so you could hear Mattsun, who was freaking out again, while simultaneously taking the keys from your other hand, to lock the door behind you.

“Sorry Mattsun. Makki scared the living shit out of me and while letting him in I saw that the freak actually really waited down the street.”

Hanamaki grows rigid upon hearing that, casting a quick glance outside the window to get his eyes on the guy who has been bothering you for months now. He couldn’t find him. That bastard had probably left the second he saw you weren’t alone anymore.

Handing the phone over to Makki, as Mattsun had wanted to talk to him, you glide down onto a chair. Wow. If Makki hadn’t showed up in that instance that could have seriously gone wrong.

Zoning out completely to your worst-case scenarios, you don’t notice the way Hanamaki looks at you. Like you’re the most precious thing to him. Like his life depended on your well-being. He was mad at himself for not checking his phone quicker when he had finished his job interview. He just had been so happy that it had worked out well this time that he had simply jumped right onto the next bus to tell you in person, he knew when you had to work out of his head after all.

His eyes crinkle with concern as you start to breathe more and more quickly.

“Mattsun, I’ll call you back later, okay?” and with that he simply ends the call before kneeling down in front of you.

“Y/N. Look at me.” He puts his hands on your knees and squeezes slightly to get your attention. Your eyes flick to his face and you see that his lips are moving, but you can’t quite make out what he’s telling you over the sudden ringing in your ears.

“Hey.” He takes one of your hands, which both lay limp in your lap, in his before putting it gently onto his chest as he gives your knee another squeeze. “Breathe with me.” And even though you still can’t quite make out the words leaving his mouth, you get what he’s trying to do and just follow his lead. As you could feel the breath flow in and out of his chest, you breathe in and out slowly as well. It makes you calm down after a while and the ringing in your ears starts to recede before vanishing completely.

Hanamakis eyes never leave your face for the whole situation. When he could tell you had calmed down enough, he lifts his hand from your knee to your face and wipes at your cheek. You hadn’t even realized the tears falling. You did now, though, as they were welling in your eyes rapidly and spilling down your cheeks.

“Hey, it’s alright, I’m here now.” Hanamaki stands up next to you and pulls your head flush against his stomach, holding you against him as he gently wipes your tears away.

“I’m scared Hiro” you mutter out after a while. “He was waiting for me to leave.”

“I know. Don’t worry about that now, I’ll take you home from now on every time. And we will go to the police tomorrow. That man is stalking you.”

Nodding against his tummy, you wrap both your arms around him and just focus on relaxing for now.

Hanamakis heart clenches painful in his chest. He’s glad that you can’t feel that, but after all you have been pretty oblivious to his feelings for you. He should have told you he liked you months ago. Seeing you like this and feel you cling to him as if he was the only solid thing in your life right now made his mind spin out of control.

That asshole would need a good punching. No one would ever lay their hands on you if he could prevent it. Looking a little impassive and soft was working in his favor when it came to things like that. No one expected his punch before it was already in their face.

After a while, when he could tell you were relaxing for real now, he took your face in both hands and tilted it up so you were looking at him.

“Are you finished here?” he asks while looking around the empty coffee shop. You only nod in response.

“I was just about to get my stuff when you appeared.”

“Alright. Let’s get you home then.” He pulls you to your feet and joins you in the locker room, watching you open your locker and get your jacket and bag out of it. A smile pulls at his lips as he could see that your whole locker was plastered with Polaroids of him and his friends.

“Let’s go” he repeats and takes the keys from your hand. He lets you switch off the light and pulls the door close behind you, locking it, before giving you back the keys so you could put them in your bag. He didn’t miss the nervous glances you were throwing over your shoulder.

He was not sure if this was a good idea, but he wanted to reassure you that he was there now and you didn’t need to worry anymore, so he reached out for your hand and intertwined your fingers, squeezing lightly. You throw him a surprised glance, but squeeze right back, thankful for his little gesture. Only then do you realize he is still wearing his job interview outfit. Letting your eyes wander from head to toe, you nod approvingly for a second time that day.

“Damn Makki, you look fine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear a suit before.”

He chuckles at that and just pulls you forward, getting you walking.

“You want to hear about it?” he silently asks. You could tell he was eager to report on this interview and feel bad immediately for cutting him off so harshly earlier. You nod and give his hand another squeeze, trying not to focus on the fact that your hand seemed to fit perfectly into his. This felt excessively nice.

Makki starts talking about his interview immediately and you listen closely, laughing when he tells you he nearly choked on the water they gave him because he was so nervous. He could be a little shy sometimes; especially if he really wanted something and you could tell that he really, really wanted that job, after his last one had been such a disaster. It seems like this time the job interview went really well though and it made you happy to think that your friend would maybe soon be working at a job that he really enjoys. After a while, he had started to brush his thumb over yours absentmindedly and you tried your best to ignore the warm feeling that was currently spreading inside of you. He only held your hand to comfort you after all, you reminded yourself and there was no need to interpret things into this gesture that were not real.

When you turned the next corner and wanted to turn left, a surprised Hanamaki, who had turned right, pulled you back.

“Oh sorry, I thought you’d maybe want to come over and stay with me tonight”, he scratched his head awkwardly, “just to be sure, you know.”

You hadn’t even thought about that. After all there was a chance that your stalker had followed you before and knew where you lived. Breathing suddenly felt extraordinary hard again and you swallowed loudly. You didn’t even want to think about that possibility and just looked up at Makki, who was studying your face with alert in his eyes again.

“I didn’t want to freak you out, sorry” he apologizes, after he grasped that that had been a stupid thing to say to someone, who has had a panic attack only minutes before.

Shaking your head slightly you exhale slowly. “You’re probably right. Is that okay for you? I don’t want to intrude…”

He flicked your forehead in an instance then. “You know you’re not intruding. We could watch a film later, to get that creep out of your head. Maybe some Ghibli?” An inquiring glance in your direction followed. “Or rather Disney?”

The overwhelming urge to cry again hit you like a brick right then. How could he be so perfect? How could he still not know that you loved him with all your heart? You were sure that Kaori had been right; you probably really looked at your best friend with hearts in your eyes sometimes, but alas how could you not if he was this fucking perfect. Realizing you had stopped walking and blatantly stared at his face, you manage to give him a crooked grin. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

Makki on the other hand had stopped breathing for a moment as he thought he finally overstepped the boundary of your friendship. It wasn’t your fault after all that he couldn’t manage feeling normal towards you. He sincerely hoped that inviting you to stay with him wouldn’t backfire at him horribly. Don’t act like a lovesick puppy Makki, he repeated over and over in his head again. Act normal. You’ve done this a thousand times before, you can handle it one more time.

Only this time he wasn’t sure he could. The way your hand felt in his was divine and he didn’t want to let go of it ever again. In fact, the only thing he wanted to do right now was give you a bone-crushing hug, so he could feel your body pressed against his. He wanted to bury his nose in the crook of your neck, inhale, and forget about everything else, because nothing else seemed to matter at that moment.

Slightly shaking his head as he realized he was letting his mind wander, he found you staring at him again. You of course couldn’t know what was going on in your friends head, but you didn’t miss the blush that was spreading on his cheeks. “You okay Makki? You zoned out pretty bad” you laugh as his blush deepens.

“Nah I’m fine. Have you decided yet? Ghibli or Disney? Or something else? We could watch a horror movie?” he suggestively wiggled his eyebrows, which earned him a punch in the side from you.

“No way! My whole day has been a horror movie. I don’t need more horror. Also I won’t forget that one time we watched “The Ring” and both you and Mattsun fell asleep and Tooru and I were freaking out alone, because Iwa wasn’t there. I couldn’t use the tub for months after that because I was so scared!”

Hanamaki just snorted as he remembered that night. Both he and Matsukawa were pretty chill when it came to horror movies. Iwaizumi was nonchalant about them, but you and Oikawa were the biggest scaredy-cats in the world. That had been the first and last time they could convince you to watch a horror movie. The fond smile on his face grew even bigger as he remembered how they had woken up to find you and Oikawa cling to each other as if your dear life was depending on it.

Sighing, he voiced what was going through his head. “Damn, I miss Shittykawa. Who would’ve thought, right?”

Clenching his hand in yours, you make him look down at you. “I would. I miss him, too.” You sigh as well. “Hopefully he’s coming back to visit soon.”

“Yeah… hopefully.” And with that you finally reached his home. It wasn’t much, just a very small apartment in a more than unimpressive high-rise, but to you it somehow felt more like home than your own flat. Following him closely as he punches the button to get the elevator down, you notice that he still hasn’t let go of your hand. He also hadn’t ceased the brushing of his thumb over yours. It was endearing that he didn’t even notice he was doing it. When the elevator arrived and you stepped inside, you follow a sudden urge and step even closer to him and rest your head against his arm, closing your eyes.

Hanamakis heart does a double beat in his chest as you snuggle into his arm. “Are you tired? We can go straight to bed if you’d prefer that.”

“Mhh no. I think I’ve settled for Disney.”

“Which one?” he asks, even though he could guess your answer.

“Tangled.”

Giving you a surprised look, he tries to calm down his heart yet again as it pounds heavily in his chest. “Why tangled? I thought you’d say Aladdin.”

You open your eyes again as the little ping of the elevator indicates that you arrived at the right floor. “It’s your favorite Disney movie.” You shrug. “We also watched Aladdin the last time.”

Makki wanted to groan. It was annoying that you were so attentive with his likes and dislikes, yet you didn’t see how much he yearned to be with you. To touch you. To love you.

Smirking down at you instead, he chuckles. “Attentive, aren’t you?”, before he finally lets go of your hand to open the door to his flat. Throwing it wide open for you, you tag along and pull off your shoes, striding right into the living room, your friend right behind you.

“Make yourself at home, I’ll be right back, I just can’t wait get rid of this” he points at his suit, “shit.” Laughing you nod and throw yourself on his couch, sinking into his soft pillows at once. Makki usually had a horrible fashion sense, but in the end, he somehow made it work and looked endearing in his mismatched colors and shapes. Well at least he looked endearing to you. When he came back, he had changed into a pale purple sleeveless hoodie and black sweatpants. Your mouth felt really dry suddenly, as you took in the defined muscle of his arms. Noticing then, that he had something in his hands you raise your eyebrows inquiringly.

“I figured you might want to wear something more comfy as well?”

He throws another pair of seriously washed out black joggers at you, which you promptly fail to catch and get hit by square in the face. “Makki!” you complain as he laughs. “Want the Tee for now, or the Hoodie?” he asks as he holds up both options.

“Oh my god, that’s got to be the most hideous T-Shirt you could find!” You cry out as you start laughing at the green T-Shirt with bright neon strawberries on it in different colors. “Give me that.” He obliges and hands it over, hanging the hoodie over the back of the couch nonetheless. He knew you; you would probably get cold later and need it anyways. As you get up to change, he also hands you a pair of big wooly socks.

Fuck, he was so perfect for you, you could cry. He knew you like no one else did.

“Thanks Hiro”, you mumble as you make your way to his bathroom to change. At the first glance in the mirror, you shriek. “MAKKI!? How could you let me walk around like this? Oh my god I look like I’ve just rediscovered my emo-phase.”

You could hear him laugh in the living room. “I thought you looked cute.”

“Fuck you!” you shout as you take in the utter mess that once had been your mascara. It makes you crack up, though. In some way, it looked hilarious and the fact that Makki could look you in the face while you looked like this without starting to laugh somehow made you feel warm inside.

After freshening up and fully removing your make up, you put on his clothes. His familiar scent soon engulfs you and you put your nose into the shirt and give it a good sniff. Thank god, no one could see this, but it just felt comforting to you. Of course, everything was way too big on you and you had to roll the sweatpants up a good bit, before deciding that you could just stuff them into the likewise too big wool socks. You must look utterly ridiculous, but the fact that he had given you clothes of his own so you could feel more comfortable made you unreasonably happy.

The second you stepped out of his bathroom, Makki knew that today was going to be a test for his patience. How could someone look so utterly cute in the most hideous clothes he could find? Because yes, you had been right: he had searched for the most revolting clothing he had to offer so that he wouldn’t be too tempted. Boy had he been wrong. He wanted to grab you, kiss you stupid, and finally find out how your lips would feel against his. Violently slapping that thought right out of his head, he lifts his hands, showing you what he was holding this time. It was a piece of cake, with two forks already embedded in it.

“I bought this earlier as a treat to myself if the interview went well… or as comfort food if it didn’t.”

“Basically you just wanted cake Hiro.”

“Yeah. Wanna share?”

“No thanks, it’s all yours.”

While trying to make your way to the couch again, you promptly slip with the too large socks on your feet and nearly fall face down. You manage to get back in balance while doing a stupid little flaying dance and you could hear Makki start laughing frantically.

“Oh my god that looked fantastic, do that again” he laugh-snorts as he picks up his phone from the table and puts the camera on you.

“No Makki, fuck you” you respond, but fail to hold in your own laughter. That must have looked seriously stupid. “What are you so goddamn tall for anyway? I’m getting lost in these clothes.”

Still laughing he only holds up his phone. “You look ridiculous” and fucking cute “strike a pose for the guys.”

So you do. Then you go and glance at the picture and start laughing again. You really did look ridiculous. A few seconds later, you hear the little pling from your phone, indicating that he’d sent the photo in the group chat. They were going to die laughing at how stupid you looked.

Finally, you flop down on his couch again as he sets down his cake in front of it and gets his TV started. “Hey, Y/n?”

“Hmh?”

“Want some hot chocolate instead?”

Snapping your head up, you look at your friends face with literal heart eyes. Since Makki also has a very sweet tooth, he has perfected his hot coco and it was seriously the best you ever had. Eagerly nodding you get up to help him, but he gently pushes you back down.

“No, you served enough people today, let me do this for you. I’ll be right back.” And with that he left you sitting a little speechless on his couch. Could he get any more perfect?

In fact, Hanamaki had left your side to take a quick breather. He seriously had underestimated the effect you would have on him, wearing his clothes. Even if it were the ugliest he could find. His fingers were itching to touch you, his whole body heating at the thought of holding you in his arms. Oh boy, he had it bad. Wearing his clothes made you look like his girlfriend and his brain was simply short-circuiting at that. Trying to get his thoughts off you and onto something else, he started preparing his special hot chocolate. He knew you loved it and the way you had looked at him when he suggested making it proved him right. It had also proved his knees to be really weak. Inwardly cursing himself for being such a mess for you, he poured the hot chocolate in your favorite cup and topped it with some cream, before sprinkling a few chocolate drops on top. When he came back in his living room, you were already stretched out on his couch, blanket loosely thrown over your legs, leaving him his usual corner free so he could settle as well. Makki couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on his face.

“Here. Careful, it’s still hot.” He handed over the cup cautiously, holding it so you could take the handle and not burn your hands immediately.

“Thanks Makki, you’re the best.” Being a little too greedy, you ignore his warning and directly burn your tongue.

“Mhhhh hot hot hot.”

“I told you so”, he snorts as he dims the lights before he flops down next to you and sets up the movie. Throwing you a glance, he asks: “Ready?” to which you simply nod.

You watched in silence, thoughts drifting through various scenarios of the day as you sip your hot chocolate. At one point you glance at Hanamaki next to you, happily munching away on his piece of cake, his eyes fixed on the TV, before finally being able to focus on the movie yourself. When the film slowly came to that special scene, you didn’t even have to look over to your friend, you just knew he was starting to smirk. You lift your finger warningly. “Don’t you say it, don’t you dare say it,” you state as you start crying when the lanterns are put into the air.

“Aww you’re such a crybaby.” He laughs, but puts an arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer to him, while simultaneously reaching over to give you a tissue box. “I knew this would happen.”

Sniffing you just take a tissue and rest your head against his shoulder, not missing that he wasn’t taking his arm off of you as he usually would have. After the movie was over, Makki threw you an inquiring glance to which you only nodded, so he started playing another one. You could tell he was going soft on you today, because his choice was Mulan this time. As the movie continues, your eyes were starting to get droopy, the day finally catching up on you. You didn’t want to tell Makki, but you were seriously exhausted. He could guess though, as you were starting to lean against him more and more heavily, eyes closed, head slowly slipping from his shoulder down to his chest. Leaning his head against the back, he tried to calm his rapidly beating heart, because fuck you were actually falling asleep on him. And you looked damn cute while doing so. He skidded down on the couch a little; making the position you were in a little less straining for your neck. To his uttermost dismay that prompted you to nuzzle your head into his chest a little more while peacefully sleeping.

Violently slapping his free hand to his forehead, he tried not to groan out loud. This was torture. Absolute fucking torture. Forcefully driving his eyes away from your face, he decided that he would just have to sit this one out.

As soon as you wrapped your arm around his middle though, he decided that no, actually he didn’t have to sit this one out. He would have to get you off him this instance or he would snap and do something stupid, which he surely would regret later. He just couldn’t take it anymore. Lifting you a little off his chest, he edged out beneath you, so he could get both his arms under you and carry you to bed. He tried his best to be careful and not shake you too much, but you were briefly waking up nonetheless.

Sleepily you rest your head against his shoulder again before mumbling. “Sorry for falling asleep…guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“s’ okay, keep sleeping.” Hearing the smile in his voice, you smile as well. Then you were put down onto his soft mattress. “Here you go”, he says as he pulls his blanket up to your nose and tugs you in properly. “Good night Y/N.”

That was suspicious. It sounded as if he didn’t want to go to bed as well, or at least not in his own bed.

“Are you not sleeping here?” you voice your thoughts. “I can make myself small. We’ve slept in this bed with three people before…” You were actually sounding disappointed.

There goes his escape plan. He couldn’t blatantly say to your face that he was going to lose his mind if he was so close to you any longer, could he? So he put on a brave face. “Just going to the bathroom. Sleep now, I’ll be right back.”

With that, he turned around and vanished. You knew he’d come back to bed then, he never did break his promises after all, so you got even more comfortable, breathing in the scent of him which was lingering all around you now. It had been a while since you had a sleepover with him. Grinning into the pillow because you were just happy in that moment, you promptly fall asleep again.

Makki on the other hand was standing in front of his bathroom mirror, brushing his teeth and contemplating to just jump off his balcony. That would probably be less painful than lying down next to you without being able to touch you. The fact that you’d seen right through his plan to sleep on the couch even though you were half asleep had him shook. Finally letting out a groan, he spit out and splashes some cold water in his face. For a second he actually contemplated to take a cold shower, he sure as hell needed one, but alas he would need that shower tomorrow morning as well.

Hoping that his body wouldn’t betray him, he made his way back to his bedroom. Upon seeing you already fast asleep again, he let out a relieved sigh. Finally some luck on his side. Carefully climbing in next to you, he turns his back to you at once. He sure as hell wouldn’t fall asleep if he kept staring at your sleeping form in front of him. Not that he was expecting much sleep after all in this situation. You blissfully slept through his struggle, clutching his blanket in your hands and surprisingly Hanamaki had been wrong, too, because he fell asleep rather quickly as well.

The next morning when you were slowly coming to your senses again, the sun was just going up, bathing Hanamakis room in a lovely hue of rose and orange, illuminating the chaos he had not been able to put away before you arrived. And how could he? He probably hadn’t planned on inviting you over.

You realized two things then. One: the blanket was barely even covering you anymore and two: despite that, you were not freezing. In fact, you were very warm and comfortable.

Goose bumps rose on your whole body, as you felt your friends’ breath ghost against you, his nose pressed against your neck. Actually, there was not a spot on your body where he wasn’t touching you at the moment. You were quite literally pressed against him everywhere you could. Or he more likely he was pressed against you, as he was spooning you from behind. His whole body was embracing you. No wonder you weren’t cold despite the blanket lying uselessly next to you, Makki was spreading heat all over your body from behind. Your legs were entangled with his and he had one arm thrown over your side, cradling you against him. The slow rise and fall of his chest against your back tells you he was still fast asleep.

Trying very hard not to freak out, you close your eyes again. Was this the reason he hadn’t wanted to sleep next to you last night? Because he knew, this would happen and he didn’t want to? That has to be it. But you had slept with him in the same bed so often before, why was it a problem suddenly? Maybe he had developed this habit during one of his relationships with his ex-girlfriends? His last relationship hadn’t even been that long ago you remember. Could it be that he still likes her and sleeping in one bed with you reminds him of her, so he didn’t want to? He hadn’t seemed very sad when they had broken off though… Feeling a headache creep up on you, you slightly shift as you put your hand against your temple. Makki moves at that motion as well, nuzzling his nose even more against your neck, arm enclosing you a little firmer as he sighs right against the nape of your neck in his sleep.

Warmth spread all in your body, rising to your cheeks as you try to calm your rapidly beating heart. However, your body didn’t want to calm down yet, stomach doing somersaults and dropping as if you’d miss a few steps on a stair at the same time. Not to mention the butterflies erupting as well. Shit you were so in love with your friend. Overly attentive to his hand resting against your tummy, you had to restrain yourself to just put your hand right over his. He was so warm and soft against you your mind was spinning. Makki starts moving then, his hips pressing into you as he sighs again, trying to get even closer to you than he already was which, of course, was impossible. You could pinpoint the exact moment he woke up, because as he had been soft and warm against you before, he now turned to stone. Closing your eyes, you try to fake being asleep to him, but you were sure your rapidly beating heart was exposing you as his hand was resting awfully close to it after all. So he really was despising this. You wanted to cry. Of course, you couldn’t know what was going on in his head. Which was quite the opposite of despising. Fuck fuck fuck, was all Hanamaki could think as he slowly came to. He knew his body was a goddamn traitor, but he hadn’t expected it to be this bad. He was practically glued to you; his goddamn hand was on your stomach, his legs entangled with yours. This was a mess. A disaster even, because he didn’t want to let go of you at all. There was only one way to get out of this with a little dignity…

“Sorry, guess my body decided to get a little warmth from somewhere, because someone was hogging the blanket.” His voice was still a little rough from just waking up and your whole body constricted with want for him upon hearing it. But he was giving you a chance to get out of this without it being too awkward, you should be lucky.

“My bad”, you snicker, “I’m not used to sharing my blanket, unlike someone else.”

He snorts against your neck and pokes your tummy where his hand had rested before, slowly but surely retracting his body from yours. “Mean. I can’t help that women are going crazy for me.”

Yeah, and sadly you were not an exception to that, but he couldn’t know that. That secret would be buried with you someday.

Rolling a safe distance away from you, he stretches and yawns loudly, before watching you as you turn around and face him. Was he imagining things or did you look sad. His heart clenches painfully in his chest. His body was urging him to just crawl closer to you and pull you against him again, this time up front, but he knew that would have been a bad idea. And since his brain was actually active this time, he decided against it, giving you a lopsided smile instead.

“Breakfast?”

“Breakfast!” you respond as you wriggle to the edge of the bed and get up, following your friend to his tiny kitchen. On your way there, you pick up his hoodie, which was still thrown over the couch, because now that his body wasn’t providing warmth for you anymore, you felt awfully cold.

After putting it on, you join Makki in the kitchen. He was facing away from you and you had to physically restrain yourself from just going and hugging him from behind. Rubbing your eyes and massaging your temples a little, you step beside him and help him set up breakfast silently. Then you eat and fall back into your usual cheeky banter and not very serious conversations.

Hanamaki didn’t miss that you’d put on his sweater as soon as you’d stepped out of his bedroom. He didn’t know what to make of it, though. It was only making things hard for him again. How did other men do this? How did they not die immediately when they saw their girlfriends wear their clothes? And why was this affecting him so much. They were only clothes after all. When you got up to freshen up in the bathroom, he clears away everything except for your mug. He knew you’d need another coffee to function, so he poured you one before sitting down on his couch again, putting on his playstation. He figured you could do a lazy day before going to the police station later. Besides, he really wanted to kick your ass in Mario Cart once again. You were always so cute when you got angry because of a game. Hanamaki snickered just by thinking about it. The day flew by after that, as you couldn’t stop battling each other. Every time someone won, the other was pleading for a rematch. So by the time you actually got up to go to the police station it was late afternoon. You switched into your own jeans before going out, but asked if you could keep wearing his shirt and hoodie. Supposedly you had stained your own shirt at the coffee shop yesterday. Makki only smiled and nodded, he knew that was a lie. But if his clothes made you feel more comfortable who was he to judge. Despite his heart exploding at the sight, he found it endearing. Hanamaki could tell you were getting anxious the closer you got to the police station. Were you maybe overreacting and he wasn’t even stalking you? Maybe it had been a coincidence that he had been there after you’d closed down the store…

“Hey, you alright?” Makkis’ voice rips you out of your thoughts. Giving him a smile that didn’t reach your eyes you nod. “Just thinking… you don’t think I’m overreacting right?”

“You’re kidding right? Of course you’re not overreacting. That man has been stalking you for weeks now.” You just stare at your feet then. So you weren’t overreacting. That didn’t make you feel better. Sighing you continue to walk on, Makki right beside you. He could tell you were overthinking this, so he nudged your shoulder to make you look up at him. “I’m here with you, okay.” And then he holds out his hand again, wiggling his eyebrows at you. He was a little sad that this didn’t mean the same to you as it did to him, but if he could hold your hand this way and make you calm down a little, he would endure it. When you reach out and accept the offer, he regards it with a “Good girl.” Laughing, you start swinging your hands slightly, while answering. “What am I Hiro, your dog?”

He only chuckles in return. “Want a treat then?” Your heart skips a beat at that offer. Of course you’d take any treat you could get from him, but you were pretty sure you were thinking of very different things than he was. Trying not to focus on his lips, you stare ahead. “I wouldn’t say no to that hot coco again.”

Then you were finally standing in front of the police station. Anxiously stopping and taking a few quick breaths, Hanamaki detangles your hands, before putting his hands at your shoulders, slightly massaging them while gently pushing you forward.

“C’mon, let’s get this over with. And then I’ll promise, I’ll make you another hot chocolate soon.”

Snorting, you let your friend move you inside. He was right, you thought, I should just get this over with. The police luckily didn’t think you were overreacting and started taking actions for you immediately, so that when you left the station later you actually felt a little relieved. You would have to inform them again when that freak turned up at your job so they could help you for real, but it was a start. Feeling very thankful for Makki, who had guided that conversation whenever he could feel you falter, you reach out on your own this time to take his hand. He looked a little surprised, but to your relief he didn’t pull away. You walked in silence until you reached your home. Hanamaki decided then that he’d make sure you were as safe as you could be, so he got on the elevator with you.

When you were standing in front of your door, you let go of his hand as he stood in front of you. Looking up at him you feel another wave of want rush over you. Following your sudden urge, you get on your tiptoes and pull him into a hug. You could tell he was a little stunned, but after a second he embraces you was well, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Thank you Hiro… I don’t know what I would have done without you the last two days.”

“For you, always. You know that, right?”

Nodding, you lean back and break the hug, because you could tell the time for a normal friends hug was running rather thin.

And then you get bold and stand on your tiptoes again to plant a firm kiss on his cheek, before turning around and vanishing in your flat, leaving your friend standing there with a dumbfounded expression and a deep blush on his face.

Fuck that had been stupid. You shouldn’t have done that. Throwing your bag in a corner you cram for your phone, you needed to talk to someone about the last two days and you knew exactly whom to call for that. Sitting down on your floor, you face call him. Hopefully he was already up. When his tired face flashes on your display you let out a sigh. Thank god.

“Morning Y/n. Calling me rather early, aren’t you?” He was having breakfast, you could tell as he munches on some kind of cereal, coffee in his other hand. He looked tired and exhausted, but you would be as well at barely 7am. You always forgot the huge time difference.

“Yeah sorry about that Tooru. Listen.” You brush your fingers over your hair agitated. “My co-worker said you knew I like Makki. Is that right?”

Oh, he liked that, there was immediately a little mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans a little forward, attention spiked. “Yeah I know about that. Why? Did something happen?” he asks nonchalantly, while sipping on his coffee.

“I slept with Makki.”

As soon as Oikawa started choking on said coffee, you realized that you probably should have phrased that a little differently.

“Oh my god, not like that Tooru.”

“What the hell was I supposed to think if you put it like that!?” he coughs.

“Good point.” You laugh. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine, now tell me what happened. And please be precice this time.”

So you give him a quick summary of the last two days and what had happened between you and Hanamaki. Which in retrospect didn’t seem like much, but Oikawas shit eating grin told you otherwise.

“You kissed him?” he asks, while stuffing his face with another spoonful of cereal.

Nodding, you wait for what he was about to tell you. Probably that you were an idiot and just ruined your friendship.

“When was that?”

Well you hadn’t expected that question. Throwing a quick glance at the clock you answer him. “Around 5 minutes ago?”

“Go outside then, if you’re lucky he’s still there.”

Scrunching up your face, you only stare at your phone disbelievingly. “Didn’t you listen to what I just said? That was over 5 minutes ago. He’s long gone.”

“Oh my god Y/n, Makki has had the hots for you for months now, probably longer, if you just kissed him on the cheek out of the blue he was probably blown away. Chances are good he’s still standing in front of your door. Check it at least. If I’m wrong we can continue talking.”

Hanamaki still standing in front of your door? Impossible. And you were going to prove it to him. “You’re insufferable Oikawa, I swear. I don’t even know why I miss you so much sometimes.” You stood up and went for your door, already pushing down the handle. “Also how would you know Makki has the hots for……me” you finish as you open the door and there he was, standing in front of you with a flabbergasted look on his face: Hanamaki.

“He’s there isn’t he?” Oikawas’ smug voice came from your phone, forgotten in your hand as you stared into your friends face. “Good luck then.” And then there was only the sound of a disconnected call. That bastard had just hung up on you.

The seconds dragged as you two stood there, staring each other in the face. Makki couldn’t bear it any longer after a while. “Well…. This is awkward.”

You crack a smile as you still muster his face and step a little bit closer. He seriously had still been standing in front of your door. That was a good sign, right? Maybe Oikawa was right and he really liked you. Maybe you had misinterpreted everything that had happened the last two days and he was really into you. Only one way to find out, right?

“Hiro. Do you like me by any chance?” You could feel your own face heat up at that very direct question.

He sighs in response and ruffles his hair, looking everywhere except you, before he found the courage to look you in the eyes. It was over now, was it not? Except there was a hopeful look in your eyes. That and your hand had unconsciously reached out and clawed at the front of his hoodie. A slow smile spread on his lips. Maybe this wasn’t the end, but the beginning.

“Yes I like you. A lot.” He steps a little closer, eyes not straying from your face, seizing your reaction. “I should have told you sooner.” He takes another step to you and your other hand finds his hoodie as well, clutching it in your hands and tugging on it slightly, your stomach dropping at his confession. He liked you. He liked you, too. And then he completely closes the gap between you as he reaches for your face, tilts it up and finally kisses you. His lips were soft on yours and the kiss was a little clumsy and very short, but you could feel his lips pull into a smile as he breaks it.

“So as I’m not getting punched in the face right now, does that mean you like me, too?”

You can’t help it then, you laugh and rest your forehead against his chest.

“Yes. I like you, too.” Pulling on his hoodie a little again and looking up into his eyes you frown. “Say, how long have you liked me?”

He chuckles at that. “Embarrassingly long. Why?”

You pinch him in the side. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner!? I was slowly dying inside this whole time.” Makki actually flinches at that, before answering: “Well I didn’t know you liked me, too? I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

Well you could understand that… it had been the exact reason why you hadn’t told him either.

“C’mon, let’s get inside” you suggest and pull him into your flat. “I think we need to talk.”

“Ugh I don’t want to talk.” He complains, but follows you nonetheless. There were many other things on his mind now that he knew you liked him, too, many of them far more exciting than talking.

Throwing him a glance over your shoulder while you close the door behind him you ask: “What do you want to do then? Don’t you think we sho-“

You were cut short then as he presses you against the door behind you and kisses you again. His hand was cradling your neck as his other found the way around your hip to pull you closer against him. He was a little rougher this time and your hands moved on their own, one going around him for leverage as the other tangles in the hair at the nape of his neck, making him groan against your lips, followed by a low mumbled “fuck” against your mouth before crushing his lips on yours again immediately. You get a hold of one of his belt loops and pull him even closer, feeling lightheaded as he graces his tongue over your lower lip before gently nibbling on it. Your knees were getting seriously weak at that point, so you push him away from you, earning an apologizing half smile from him. “Too much? Sorry…”

A little breathless you shake your head and just continue to shove him into your living room before pushing him down on your couch and promptly flopping down on him.

He started smirking then. “Oh? I thought you wanted to talk?”

You punch him in the chest.

“Shut up. We can do that later.” You protest, putting your arms around his neck and lowering your face. “Now do that again.”

Makki only snorts at that, before letting one hand wander to your neck and pulling you in again. “Gladly.”

And then his lips were on yours again, a little firmer, a little more daring, a little more confident.

 Ok Bonus Scene because I’m a sucker for teasing this boy:

Later that night when you were lying on his chest, lips swollen, eyes tired, but entirely happy you snort while thinking of something. “Hiro? You’ll have to be a good boyfriend to me.”

“Mh? Why?” he asks as he nuzzles his nose against your head.

“Because if you’re not, I will tell Mattsun that you got a boner from just kissing me,” you state before snickering devilishly. “And he will never let you forget about it.”

You could feel him laugh under you as well as he hides his face behind his hand, even though you were not looking at him. “I feared you noticed that.”

Grinning, you put your head up a little, letting your eyes roam over his face as he peeked out between his spread fingers. “Well… it only means you really like me right? I’m honored.” Resting your chin on his shoulder again, you murmur: “Also you’re already a perfect boyfriend, so I don’t think you need to be scared.”

“Awww.” He fake coos at your sentiment, but brushes his fingers over your back in gentle circles either way. Suddenly jerking, he sits up a little. “That makes me think of… have I ever told you how my ex-girlfriend broke off with me?”

“Makki are we seriously cuddling for the first time and you want to tell me about your ex-girlfriend?”

“You’re gonna love this” he promises, already laughing, “I believe after she slapped me, her actual wording was ‘Maybe you should date and fuck your friend Y/n since you’re being a better boyfriend to her already than you are to me’.”

You chuckle against his neck. “Seriously?”

Nodding, he rests his head against yours. “Guess she was right, after all. That was actually the time I decided trying to date someone else was pointless…”

“You’re simping Makki.”

“You have no idea.” He presses a kiss against your forehead. “Yesterday evening I was contemplating to jump from the balcony because I thought that would have been less painful than not being able to touch you.”

Grinning broadly, you peck him on his cheek. “You can touch me all you want now. I’m all yours.”

“Yes, you’re mine now.”

A second later you could feel his hands sneakily move under your, or more likely

his shirt that you were still wearing, continuing to caress your skin.

[spencersawkward]

switchblade faith//spencer reid - chapter 8

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid.

pairing: Fem!OC/Spencer

word count: 3.9k

content warnings: discussion of a dead body (for a case), discussion of sensory overload (idk if that's a warning but just in case).

A/N: sorry this took so long! i've had a lot of writer's block with this series, but i'm feeling a lot more motivated with it, now. anyway enjoy!

masterlist

my feet slam into the pavement at a rate that makes me wonder if my heart can take it. I can feel the air in my lungs, stinging, and the way it never seems like enough. I can't stop. my arms are pumping and my legs burn.

I'm sure I look like a mess right now, exhausted and sweaty as I make my way up the biggest hill by my apartment. I haven't been running in a while, and this incline is even more daunting than it was before.

I use the momentum I've built from before now and force myself up. every breath rips through me violently until I'm sure that if I stop running, I'll collapse. but I keep pushing, knowing it'll be worth it.

I hated running until college. just absolutely despised the thought of getting outside and forcing myself to move quickly. the older I get, though, the more refreshing it's gotten. it helped me escape from midterms, from the pressure that constantly seemed to mount with every passing day. sometimes it feels like all of it keeps piling on, and it's never going to stop.

of course, that's not really the way to look at life. I've had things to balance out the work, friends to call and ways to let out the hammering violence that always seem to fill the spaces between my ribs. running clears my head when nothing else does.

once I get to the top, I bend over and rest my palms on my knees so that I can relax. I can hear my heart beating in my ears and can feel my pulse thudding against my throat. it's good, though. I needed to do this again, to get exercise.

I resist the urge to lay down flat on the pavement. DC isn't really a good place to do that; everyone around me is on a morning stroll with their partner or they're out for a jog themselves. I pass several enthusiastic-looking dogs out for a walk. the sheer number of people around me should make me feel normal.

it doesn't.

I straighten and stretch out my muscles, wincing at the way my calves feel if I move them funny. I don’t want to get called in for a case today, but that's naive. there will always be another case because there will always be people we need to stop. maybe I'm just not jaded enough to not care. I like to think that's a good thing, though.

...

when I head into the office a couple hours later, there's a to-go cup of coffee resting on my desk. I smile to myself, set my bag down and shrug off my coat, then peek over the divider to see Spencer with a case file open and an identical to-go cup a couple inches away.

"is this your doing?" I refer to the coffee. he nods and smiles at me, seemingly not in the mood to talk.

"thanks, Reid."

sitting down to do some work, I sneak a peek at him. Spencer is acting different from last weekend. more shy. I'm not really sure the reason, unless he just felt particularly outgoing at the party and is now back to his default self.

we get a case before the hour is up, and then my mind is occupied by the details.

jet rides, though now a familiar routine, are probably my favorite part of the job. I don't feel totally unproductive, but I still have time to unwind and talk to people on our way. Emily and I have gotten much closer within the past few weeks and sometimes she tells me stories about her old job that keep me on the edge of my seat.

there's something so mysterious about her that I just appreciate; she's like a cool older cousin to me. and she's great at making fun of Morgan, which is something that I've found enjoyable as well. sometimes he needs to be knocked down a peg-- she's the woman to do it.

"how many?" I trace my finger down the smooth skin of Derek's arm, where he's lifted his sleeve just enough to show the inked lion. it's a big tattoo, and I'm somewhat surprised he has one at all. he just doesn't really seem the type.

"five right now." he flexes his bicep flirtatiously, and I immediately remove my hand with a repulsed expression, rolling my eyes at the chuckle he lets out.

"don't feed his ego like that." Emily warns from across the table. she's flipping through one of the plant magazines that we've stashed in the snack cupboards (much to Hotch's disapproval). I turn to see Morgan's reaction.

"you a little jealous, Prentiss?" he teases. her only response is a glance that dares him to push further. they both know that Emily has absolutely no interest in him, which I suppose adds to their friendship. Morgan leans down by my ear, but he makes no effort to quiet his voice. "you should ask about her tattoos."

"you have tattoos?" my eyes widen at this, voice a little louder than usual. Hotch glances over at us from his seat a ways away, but doesn't say anything. Reid is passed out on the couch, strangely tired for the middle of the day; Rossi's writing something in his miniature journal.

"that's not anyone's business." she says more to Morgan than to me.

"I wanna see!" I set my glass of ice water down on the table and straighten up. Emily pretends to be exhausted by the persistence, but she closes her magazine momentarily.

"look, I can't show them all here." she raises a suggestive eyebrow.

"then how does Derek know?" I smirk. Emily makes a face, but Morgan is the one who replies.

"this one gets a little loose-lipped when she drinks too much." he teases. I snort and glance at Emily. I've seen her tipsy before, but never drunk. at most, she gets affectionate with all of us and calls us her best friends in the whole world. which, honestly, isn't an unwelcome sentiment.

"I do not." she argues.

"yeah, you do." Reid mumbles from the couch cushion where he's been resting his head. I jump at the sudden noise, and we all turn to him.

"look who's up." Emily smiles. Reid stretches his legs out, limbs so long that his feet hang off the end of the couch. he's wearing mismatched socks again today, one with bananas and one covered in sushi rolls. I smile to myself.

"I'm not," he argues. "someone had to correct you."

Morgan and I let out an amused laugh. my eyes dart between Spencer and the two other agents. "I feel like I'm the only one here who hasn't seen Prentiss drunk."

"yes, you have." she frowns.

"no. not, like, plastered."

"don't let Garcia hear you say that." Morgan laughs. I snort.

"why?"

"any excuse to party, and she'll take it." he shakes his head affectionately.

"she'd just call it bonding." Prentiss adds in. I have a soft spot in my heart for Pen. for all of the darkness we see here, she makes it a little bit brighter with her quips and sparkly pens and neon glasses. she's a blessing.

"what's so bad about that?" I defend for her sake.

"nothing's wrong with it, per se," Emily shrugs. "it just means we aren't as professional as we should be."

"I'd argue that our job actually means we get to let loose more when we have the time." I shrug. Morgan offers his fist to pound, and I oblige with a satisfied smile.

"you two are children, you know that?" Emily gestures between Derek and me. I shrug, about to return to my crossword when she speaks again. "how many tattoos do you have, Clea?"

I blink for a second, deciding whether or not to lie. it would be kind of cool to sound badass, but I don't know if I even have the mental capability to fib to a bunch of profilers. "none."

"what?" Morgan looks at me with confusion.

"yeah, none. why is that such a big surprise?" I laugh at their reactions. Prentiss is alarmed, too.

"I don't know-- you seem like the kind of person to get a heart tattooed on your thigh or something." Morgan shrugs. I make a face, silent.

"that's offensive."

Prentiss snorts and finishes her drink. I peek over and see Reid with his eyes closed but a slightly amused smile on his face. by the couch, I can see through the window. we're slipping through gray clouds that are saturated with rain, and the weather change causes the jet to shake a bit.

my fingertips wrap around the arm of the seat and Emily eyes me warily.

"you okay?"

"don't like flying." I answer, nostrils flaring slightly. usually with these trips, I've been able to hide my apprehension for flying by holding onto my knee below the table or something, but the sudden jerks are putting me off.

it's stupid-- plane anxiety is ridiculously common, and I don't think it's necessarily unwarranted. the problem is that to a bunch of people trained in behavioral analysis, it shows a blatant fear of not having control.

which is true, but it's not like I need that plastered all over my face every time we board a flight.

"would you get a tattoo if you could?" Emily changes the subject, thankfully, and I bite down on my bottom lip.

"I think so, yeah." it's said without much thought; all that's on my mind right now is wondering what our ETA is. Morgan shifts in his seat to smirk.

"really."

"sure."

he nods appreciatively before turning to look back out the window. droplets of moisture are collecting there, but they only distort the image of Portland stretched out below. the water is steel gray and rippled with wind.

I've never been here. for some reason, I find myself wondering what it smells like. that mingling of city scent and ocean, if they meet in the middle to form their own distinct identity. if it will settle on my tongue and in my clothes.

it's funny to me that when I go to different places and return, I don't notice how different it all smells until I breathe it in through the fabric of my shirts, and from there it all comes rushing back. Spencer mentioned during a case once that scent creates the most powerful memory reaction out of all our senses-- and I believe it.

DC smells like humidity and rain-slicked streets, Montana like dust. even the jet has a particular one that I don't associate with anything right now, but I know I will in the future. like I'm standing in the formation of a memory.

half-baked.

...

we've got the hoods of our raincoats up as we make our way into the office of our latest victim. Morgan holds the door and I wander in, staring up at the enormous glass walls of the place. a stray droplet falls from the hood of my jacket and onto my nose, rolling down the bridge and causing me to sniffle.

her boss is surprisingly dismissive of us when we get to his office, reluctantly getting off a phone call and giving me something of a dead-fish handshake. as we take a seat at his desk, I can smell the overbearing stench of his expensive cologne.

he's got exactly the kind of look that I wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole: taut, judgmental face with a stiff mustache and slicked-back black hair that honestly is probably dyed. his eyes linger on me for a bit longer than I appreciate, but I clear my throat and try to brush off the discomfort.

Winona's body was found in a ditch off the side of a highway, dumped like trash. based on the ME report, she was alive when he threw her in, but died shortly after from her wounds. the whole thing is gruesome and as her employer notes her tendency to daydream and occasional tardiness, I want to reach across the table to smack him.

Morgan is able to keep his cool better than I can, nodding. I know it's important to know her behaviors in order to build our profile, but I still don't like the way this guy is talking about her.

"she wasn't really the strongest employee we've got, but she was nice enough around the office." he shrugs. I notice the gold wedding band that glints on his ring finger, the way he leans back in his swivel chair. he's got evaluative eyes.

by the time we're done, I'm practically flying out the door of his office and hurrying to the elevator. we got what we needed to know from him, if not through a somewhat convoluted method.

"nice guy." I note sarcastically after punching the down button. Morgan tucks his hands into his jeans pockets and looks at our warped reflections in the elevator doors.

"we talk to a lot of people like that. you get used to it."

"didn't seem too concerned about her at all."

"I don't think guys like that are concerned about much more than themselves."

"you should have mentioned a tax evasion investigation happening around here," I smirk. "that would probably put the fear of God into him."

Morgan chuckles and looks over at me. it would be unprofessional to fist bump with so many people around, although the smile we share is definitely a great equivalent.

as we pack into the metal box with a bunch of employees, they look at us curiously. the enormous FBI label on the back of our jackets probably doesn't help, but I pretend to look like I know what I'm doing as we step out into the lobby.

in all reality, faking it until I make it is the only thing I know how to do.

...

the late night cravings come as a surprise as I stand over a map of Portland. my eyes are starting to cross from staring at all the minuscule details for so long, and my fingers are twitching from a mixture of hunger and overloaded caffeine.

we were supposed to go to bed about two hours ago, but I know for a fact that I'm not the only one sitting in my motel room with open files and a determined expression. I do happen to be the only person rooming alone, however, and the silence has been helpful.

Reid's been working on a geographic profile, but there's something missing. I'm not sure what it is. all I know is that if I don't figure it out soon, it's going to eat away at me. based on his activity patterns, there are only a few more days before this guy abducts another woman.

except now I'm just thinking about how much time we don't have, and that sort of sends me into a spiral, too. I'm prepared to always be running against a clock for this job, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. I'm going to lose it if I stare at any more tiny lines indicating roads or side streets or whatever else demands attention.

I need to get out of my head.

before taking time to really consider anything else, I grab my phone and look up pizza places nearby. what I need right now is some sustenance and tv-- or at least something to distract me enough to recharge.

I change into my pjs and wash my face while I wait for the delivery person to arrive, try to ease the day out of my bones. there used to be a whole process for me after work every day, where I'd shut off my brain. The Real Housewives of Atlanta provided ample help for this, along with fuzzy socks and glasses of red wine. I can make do with this.

once the pizza guy comes and I pay for my food, I don't even make way to my room; instead, I go to the person I know who needs this more than I do.

"Clea?" Spencer rubs his eyes as he swings open the door, glasses held in the other hand.

"hi." I smile brightly.

"what are you doing here?" his soft tone and the dim light from a motel lamp in the corner tells me that Morgan is asleep right now in the other bed.

in response to his question, I hold up the box of pizza with a grin. his eyes widen.

"I can't eat all this alone." definitely a lie, but saying that he needs to take a break probably wouldn't sway him enough.

for a second, Spencer seems to debate this in his head. when he runs a shaky hand through his hair, I roll my eyes. "it's pizza, dude. not a wedding proposal. you can go back to the case in twenty minutes."

he nods this time and looks up at me as I turn and start toward my room. closing the door gently behind him, I don't miss the way he increases his pace a little to catch up with me.

"did you get mushrooms?" he asks. I throw him a disgusted look before realizing what he's talking about and breaking into a grin.

"you remembered!" I reference my hatred of the fungus. Spencer smiles with pride, turns his gaze to the carpeted floors. I unlock the door and let us in.

"of course I remember," he snorts. "it's hard to forget."

I giggle at the way he immediately uses the sink to wash his hands, and I join him after setting the box on the bed.

"favorite soap scent?" I ask absently. suds cover my fingers as he rinses the water from his. normally, this isn't a question I'd ask, but Spencer seems like he would have a response.

"you know, I really enjoy anything fresh-smelling," he thinks about it. "like waterfall smell."

"I like those, too."

"what's your favorite?"

"there's this brand that I love that specializes in antibacterial soaps, and they have a lavender one that literally makes me ascend." I laugh. Spencer is drying his hands with a folded towel and his face lights up.

"Ravi's Organics?" he suggests. my heart leaps with recognition.

"yes! oh my god, have you used their cracked cinnamon one?"

"I have the hand sanitizer in my bag." Reid's eyes are so pretty. they sparkle with a hazel color, almost chocolatey in the cheap motel light.

"they have a hand sanitizer for it?" my jaw drops. he nods and I shake my head slowly. we walk over to the bed to eat the pizza. he seems hesitant, though, and pauses.

it takes me a second to remember that Spencer has different boundaries and is just kind of awkward in general. even though there's no obvious tension between us, I don't want to make him uncomfortable, so I plop down on the floor.

"you like Ravi's Organics." he states it back to himself more than to me, and as I pop open the box to reveal a beautiful pepperoni pizza, I nod vigorously.

"yeah, it's actually kind of a funny story," we start to dig in immediately. I lift an enormous slice to my lips and bite into the perfection. it's so good. "when I was little, my parents used to call me Rascal."

"Rascal?" he laughs through a bite of food.

"like the raccoon? from that book?" it's a kid's story.

"why?" he snorts. I take a second to chew before replying.

"I just get really overwhelmed by certain sensory things-- like, I hate being sticky or having any kind of weird texture on my hands. so whenever we went out to eat or anything, I would always sit on the outside of the booth so I could run to the bathroom and wash my hands as I pleased." I explain all of this with a slight frown on my face. it's true, I've just never really thought about it.

"I don't like sticky stuff, either." he offers.

"yeah, it got pretty bad. but I guess I just grew out of it. I'm not sure when." I pluck a piece of pepperoni off the top and slide it into my mouth.

Spencer takes in this information for a second while he eats, and I'm momentarily worried that I've overshared. he came for some food and now I've served up a weird childhood memory to accompany it.

but then he does something funny and altogether endearing.

"actually, raccoons are very cleanly creatures, despite their dietary habits." he tells me.

frankly, it makes me feel better than anything else that he could have said. "fastidious little things, right?"

"exactly." he chuckles. his shoulders are hunched, elbows leaning on his knees.

"fix your posture." I say gently, noticing the way his spine curves abysmally when he's sitting across from me. his cheeks turn a pretty pink, but he follows directions.

"is it that bad?" he's a bit embarrassed. immediately, I soften and do what comes easily, making a joke.

"if you don't work on it, you're gonna be living in a French cathedral by the age of thirty."

Spencer snorts-- genuinely almost chokes on his food-- and looks at me with his almost childlike eyes. there's something in them that I can't decipher at all, almost so obvious that it completely goes over my head.

"that was mean." he's still trying to recover from the onset of giggles, and I lean forward to grab another slice, suppressing a proud grin myself.

"your future straight-backed self will thank me."

"I'll remember that." he nods dutifully.

"I'm sure you will."

we share a secretive smile before I bite into my pizza and launch into a different subject. the more I learn about Spencer, the more I want to know. I feel like there are things beneath every new surface that would be fascinating to understand.

"what's it like having an eidetic memory?"

he frowns like he isn't sure how to answer. I thought he'd already have something locked and loaded, a prepared response for a question he definitely gets frequently. when he opens his mouth, I find myself hanging on every word. "it's... interesting."

"blessing or a curse?"

"both."

"would you ever give it up if given the option?" I narrow my eyes a bit. I'm especially curious about this.

"no." this is delivered with certainty. for a second, I stare at him with about a million more questions in my head. of course, they're completely out-of-bounds and way too personal, but they're still there.

"hm." I say instead. as usual, delivering thrilling commentary at every turn.

Spencer peeks at me over his pizza for a second, seeming to want to say something else, but decides against it. our eyes meet; I'm not sure what it is, maybe a silent agreement or something else that's unspoken, but we decide not to press further on either end.

whatever he's got tucked away in that big brain of his, he's not ready to talk about it with anyone-- much less a new colleague in a dumpy motel. there's a time and place for certain things, and boundaries to respect.

I change the subject before he can make some lame excuse to leave. for some reason, I just don't want him to leave me here in this room.

taglist (lmk if you wanna be added/removed for this series): @reidsconverse @voidsfilm

[five-rivers]

Intervention

Prize for @reblogthegods!  This is a no one knows AU!

Enjoy!

.

.

.

Danny touched down behind the school and leaned against the wall, one hand firmly over the gash in his hip.  He blinked at it, feeling bleary.  It wasn’t bleeding, exactly, ectoplasm was too viscous for that, and it tended to gel quickly, but…  Yeah. It didn’t feel good either, and it had been oozing before.  

He should get it cleaned out and put a bandage on it.  Fast. Before he missed even more classes.

Also, what would happen when he changed back to human?  Like, when he changed back, his wounds were usually less bad, but they were never completely gone, and he usually didn’t get anything quite this deep.  Or long.  

Mostly he just got bruises.  Or scratches.  One time he thought he’d broken a couple of fingers.  Which had motivated him to learn how to punch properly, but, well. Yeah.  

Cuts like this were new and terrifying territory. Why did that ghost have a sword?

Maybe he should just try and stay a ghost for as long as possible?  Would he heal faster like that?  He didn’t know.  

Between keeping everything secret from everyone, protecting everyone, and trying to live his life to whatever extent ‘live’ and ‘life’ still applied to him, he hadn’t any time to test the- the limitations of- of whatever he was now.  Maybe he could have made time, but he hated this so much.  

He just-

He just-

(He wanted to be a normal person in a normal town with a normal family.)

He took a deep breath, and trued not to notice how it didn’t make him feel refreshed, or that he hadn’t been breathing since he sat down against the wall.  

Right.  First aid.

And he still had classes.  

Slowly, he reached into the wall and pulled out the kit he had hidden there.  

.

He slouched into sixth period, avoiding Sam and Tucker’s eyes.  No one else really paid him any mind, although the teacher frowned at him.  It was still passing, though, and he didn’t get called up or told to go to the office.  So.  A win.

It didn’t feel like a win.  It felt like pain.  

Sam leaned forward.  “Where were you?” she hissed, through her teeth.  “You missed fifth period completely.”

Danny shrugged and regretted it instantly.  

It hurt.  

Tucker huffed and turned away.  “If you’re going to skip class,” he said, “you could at least tell us what you’re doing.”

“I’m just—” started Danny.  “I’m not doing anything.”

“Don’t lie to us, Danny.   We—”  She bit down on her lip.  “We are still friends, right?”

“Of course we are!”

Sam looked dubious.  Tucker, for all his staring as he came into the classroom, wouldn’t meet his eye.  

Then the teacher started class.  

.

“It has to be drugs,” said Sam to Tucker, sitting on the steps in front of the school.  “I don’t know how Danny could be that stupid, but it’s the only explanation.”

“Maybe the hospital gave him painkillers back in August and he couldn’t get off of them?” suggested Tucker.  “I think that happened to one of my aunts…  She got better, though.”

“Maybe,” said Sam.  Her face twisted up.  “But how is he paying for them?  Like, he doesn’t have an allowance.”

“Underground fighting ring?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Someone’s beating him up,” said Tucker, “and it isn’t Dash.”

“Dealer?”

Tucker shrugged, scowling at his PDA.  “I hate this,” he said.  “I hate – Why won’t he talk to us, Sam?  It isn’t like we’d throw him under the bus or rat him out. He knows that.”

“He should know that,” corrected Sam. “And I’m so mad at him, but…” She trailed off, staring down at the weathered concrete of the steps.  

“Yeah,” agreed Tucker.  “Do you think we should tell Jazz?”

“Heck, no,” said Sam, immediately.  “What is that going to do?  We need, like, an intervention or something.”

“Don’t you need someone’s whole family for something like that?”

“I’m going to intervene right in the face of whoever is selling Danny drugs.”

“Ah, the violence route,” said Tucker.  “How did we get here so quickly?”

“Shut up,” said Sam.  “Anything else we do is just going to get Danny in trouble, and I’m not doing that.  Even if he’s being a garbage friend right now.”

“Yeah…” said Tucker.  “So how are we doing this?”

“We?”

“I may not be the best friend in the whole wide world, but even crappy friends don’t let each other beat up drug dealers in alleyways on their own, even if they do have five years of self-defense classes under their belts.  What if this guy has a gun?  What if there’s more than one?”

Sam buried her head in her hands.  “Frick,” she said, very softly.  

“Would this count as vigilantism, by the way? That’s illegal, right?”

“Frick,” repeated Sam, more passionately.  

“Is this going to be our superhero origin story?” asked Tucker, turning his eyes skyward and making his voice waver dramatically.

“Don’t even joke about that.  The only superhero we know of is dead.”

Tucker turned to look up at Sam.  “I still can’t believe you believe that.  Something weird is going on, but… ghosts?  That sounds more like Danny’s parents than anything acquainted with reality.”

“You’d believe it, too, if you were there,” muttered Sam.  “If you—”  She shook herself.  “Whatever. You, me, tomorrow?”

“If I knew what you were asking me to do, I’d probably say yes.”

“Following Danny, duh.”

“Sure, but… Joking about punching drug dealers or whoever is beating Danny up aside, we should probably treat this as just recon. Because I don’t want to get shot by some crackhead in an alley.  Like, if I did become a ghost, my parents would kill me.”

“Not if the Fentons got you first.”

“Aw, Sam.  You wouldn’t let them hurt your bestest undead friend, now would you?”

“Best undead friend?  No.  You? Yes.”

Tucker snorted, choked, and started wheezing.  

“Anyway, I’m not getting into a fight with you anywhere near me.  If you didn’t take yourself out, you’d take me out.”

“Don’t say it.”

“Bad luck Tuck.”

“Ugh, you said it.”

Both of them sighed, staring across the street without really seeing anything.  

“Tomorrow, then,” said Sam, feeling vaguely relieved.

“Tomorrow,” agreed Tucker.

.

Whatever had decided to crawl out of the woodwork to torment Danny today hovered on the edge of his awareness, making him shiver intermittently as he played the most aggravating game of ‘hot and cold’ in the world.  Where was it?  He’d lost track of it after he chased it away from Mr. Quigley, the janitor.  

His breath came out blue, briefly, and green flashed in the corner of his eye before something checked him against the shoulder.  He stumbled, biting back curses (he was a superhero, now, technically, and he needed to be a good role model), and gripping his hip.  The cut from yesterday had healed a lot, but not completely.  

But- He knew the ghost was close, now.  Close and fast.  He’d been trying to save his energy by tracking the ghost down as human, but now…  He felt himself smile.  

It was not a particularly nice smile.  It was full of all the stress and nonsense he’d had to put up with since August.  

He was going to beat this little interloper into the ground, teach it better than to haunt his town, hurt his people and get away with it.

Bright white light swept over him, and he jumped into the air.  

.

“Holy—”

“No,” said Tucker.  “We did not just see that.  I refuse.”

“That was—” Sam made a large sweeping upwards motion. “He just flew off!  What the heck kind of drugs do that?  This is—This is—I don’t even know how to say it!”  She kicked a nearby garbage can and then sunk down into a crouch.  

(Even in this state of mind, she was not kneeling on the ground here.  It was gross.)

“We didn’t—It’s got to be something his parents made.  Like Fenton Ghost Steroids or something,” said Tucker, who was shaking.

“His parents,” said Sam.  “His parents.  They’ve been shooting at him, Tucker.”

“I mean…  Yeah.  I guess so. But we didn’t…  Sam,” he croaked.  “Did Danny die and not tell us?”

“No.  No. Just, no.  No way.  He—You were right, earlier.  It has to be ghost steroids or something, and his parents don’t know, so that means we still have to beat up his dealer, but they’re probably a ghost, how do we beat up a ghost?”

“We could ask Danny’s parents?”

“God, no!”  She shook her head violently.  “Did you miss the part where they’re shooting at him?”

Tucker shrugged, defensively.  “Well, who else could teach us how to fight ghost drug dealers?”  He pushed his glasses up his nose and stared up at the sky.  “Maybe it’s not drugs, though?  Like, in retrospect, if it isn’t painkillers, I can’t really see Danny taking drugs.  Even ghost drugs that give you superpowers.”

“I hate all the words that just came out of your mouth.  I must be having a psychotic break.”

“Hey, wait, that’s my line.  I’m the one in denial.  Give it back.”

“Find your own denial.”

“We can’t both be in denial.  Someone needs to drive this car.”

“Drive you right off a cliff, that’s what I’ll do. And I’m going to kill Danny for not telling us about whatever this is.”  Sam’s gestures grew progressively more violent.

“I don’t think you can kill a ghost.  They’re already—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”  

Tucker held up his hands in surrender.  “Do you think we should wait for him to come back?”

“He probably won’t,” said Sam.  “I mean… he can… fly… apparently.”

“Yeah.  Can’t believe he had his superhero origin story without us.”

“This isn’t a joke, Tucker,” snapped Sam.  

“Well, I’m sorry I have a coping mechanism, okay?” Tucker sighed.  “Should we go back to class?”

“I guess,” said Sam, kicking at the ground. “We’re jumping Danny at the first opportunity, though.”

“Duh,” said Tucker.  

.

Danny limped into seventh period, drained, and flinched away from Sam and Tucker’s glares.  He felt sick.

There wasn’t anything he could do about the ghost attacks except try to finish them faster, but he’d been a terrible friend lately. They probably were starting to hate him. They were going to leave him.  He could tell.  He couldn’t even blame them.  

If he told them—

No.  

They’d be in danger.  

Danger from what, at this point, wasn’t clear, because even if they knew, Danny wasn’t going to let them near any ghost fights, but danger was definitely involved.  A lot of it.  

But if they stopped being friends with him…

The cold thing that had taken up residence in his chest cringed, and he stumbled.  Dash laughed, made an inane comment about his coordination, and lobbed a ball of paper at the back of Danny’s head.  Danny barely noticed.

He didn’t want that.  He needed his friends.  

Sam and Tucker were having some kind of conversation with only their facial expressions by the time Danny sat down, effectively ignoring him.  Now the little ball of cold in his chest felt crushed.  

(Just barely, he resisted the urge to check his pulse.  Whatever had been added to him, he still had that.)

(He was still alive.)

Sam and Tucker were very studiously not looking at him.  

He sank lower in his chair.  

It hurt.  

.

As soon as they were able to, Sam and Tucker dragged Danny into a secluded nook formed by the intersection of two of the school’s exterior walls and shaded by a large bush.  It was unlikely that anyone would bother them there.  

Danny looked surprised, apprehensive, and oddly pleased at the same time.  

“Uh,” he said, very eloquently.  

He probably intended to say more than that, of course, but Sam didn’t give him the chance.  

“We followed you when you skipped today,” she said.

Immediately, all the blood in his face drained away, leaving him bone pale.  “What?”

“In our defense,” said Tucker, “we thought you were meeting a drug dealer.  Or going to fight in an underground club.”

“No, we didn’t,” said Sam.  “Well, we did with the drug dealer, but not the underground fighting ring.  That’s stupid.  Drugs make so much more sense.”

“You think I’m on drugs?” wailed Danny.  

“Thought,” emphasized Tucker.  “Past tense.”

“That’s not any better!”

“Au contraire!  Now we think you’re on ghost drugs!”

“I am not on ghost drugs!” hissed Danny. “Where would I even get ghost drugs?”

“Your parents?” suggested Sam.  

“Why would my parents have ghost drugs?”

“To drug ghosts with? I don’t know, man, your parents are weird.”                                                                                                                                        

“Why would ghost drugs even—Wait.  How much did you even see?” asked Danny, squinting suspiciously.  “Did you actually see anything, or are you just trying to get me to say something?”

“To be fair, we are trying to get you to say something.”

“We saw you turn into the ghost boy and fly off after a ghost,” said Sam, sharply.  

“Oh.  Heck.”  Danny leaned against the wall.  “You did see something, then.”

“Yeah, and we want to know, if it isn’t ghost drugs, how?  And why?” asked Sam.  “And why didn’t you tell us?”

“I just, um.  I didn’t—This is just—I’m freaked out, okay?  This is really freaking weird, and I—You’re not going to tell my parents, are you?”

“If you’re getting high off of ghost drugs,” said Tucker, “then, yeah, maybe.  Don’t think we haven’t noticed you looking like hell.  There’s got to be a bunch of side effects from ghost drugs.”

“Oh my gosh, Tucker, I’m not on ghost drugs.  There are no ghost drugs, and, considering everything, I’d really prefer it if you didn’t give my parents the idea of ghost drugs because that’s the absolute last thing I need.”

Danny finished the sentence in a rush and now he was breathing too much, which was just great, because apparently that was a thing that could happen to him, now.  Going from maybe not needing to breathe to breathing too much…  He was really having doubts about his humanity right now, and his friends were mad at him because they thought he was on ghost drugs.  Ghost drugs.  

“I’m not on ghost drugs,” he said, perfectly calm.

“Are you—Dude, I think you’re hyperventilating.”

Okay.  Maybe not perfectly calm.  He slid the rest of the way down the wall to the ground, which, wow, was a thing he was doing a lot, lately.  

“Danny?” asked Sam, hesitant.

“I’m fine,” he said.  “Mostly.  Just. Give me a minute, okay?”

They gave him a minute. The minute spiraled into five. Then ten.  Which was a really long time to spend in anxious, awkward silence.

“Okay,” said Danny.  “So.  Uh.  Accident.  In the lab. With the stupid ghost portal.  It kind of messed me up a bit.  Like.  And then I’ve been able to, uh, turn into a ghost.  Since then.”

“You can just… turn into a ghost?” ventured Sam.  

“Yeah.”

“Just, like, whenever?”

“Yeah.  Pretty much.  At the beginning I couldn’t control it at all, which was pretty, um…  Yeah.  And I can’t when I’m too tired.”

“So, you can die on command?”

“I’m not dead!” snapped Danny.

Tucker took a step back, hitting the bush.  “Sorry. I’m just trying to wrap my head around this whole… thing”

“Yeah,” agreed Sam.  “I mean, you’re breathing and everything. That means you’re alive.  You’re not dead.”

“I’m not dead,” repeated Danny.  “I’ve just got, like, ghost powers, or something.”

“Yeah.  That makes sense.  Because you can’t be dead and alive at the same time.”  Sam laughed.  It sounded more than a little forced.  “That would be—That’s impossible!  Right?”

“Right.”  Danny took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  He was alive.  Sam agreed.  

“And, uh, thanks,” said Sam.

Danny looked up, surprised. “What?”

“For saving me from that ghost,” explained Sam.  

“Oh.”  He blinked.  “You’re welcome?  It really—I mean, of course I saved you.  You’re my friend.”

Tucker leaned in.  “I think Sam has a crush on ghost you.”

“Tucker, if I kill you, they’ll never find the body,” said Sam.

“No murder, please,” said Danny.  He sniffed. “Are we—Are we okay, now?”

“No,” said Sam.  She poked him in the head.  “I still don’t get why you didn’t tell us.  And you have to tell us everything.  And let us help you.  Because you really do look like you’re on drugs.  That’s how crappy you look.”

“You can’t,” protested Danny, alarmed.  “I’ve got, you know, but you-!”  

“I don’t think she means actively fighting the ghosts, dude.”

“The hell I don’t.”

“Okay, maybe Sam wants to actively fight the undead, or whatever, but you need people to cover for you, at least.  Your skipping out of class thing is… not subtle.  Why do you do that, anyway?  Why not go after the ghosts when it isn’t school time?”

“I don’t really have a choice,” mumbled Danny.  “I can feel them, and it’s like, I don’t know…”  He looked up.  “Can we… talk about this somewhere else?  I don’t want to do this in the open.”

“Crud.  Yeah,” said Tucker.  “No superhero stuff where normal people can hear it.  Come on, we can camp out in my attic or something.”

“Are there even normal people in Amity Park?” asked Danny, pushing himself off the ground.  

“I don’t—Oh my god, Danny, what is that?”

“What is-?  Oh.  Yeah. So.  Ghosts are not gentle.  And some of them have swords.”

“You got stabbed?” wheezed Tucker, his voice squeaking.  “By a ghost?”

“More like slashed, but…” Danny raised his hands helplessly. “Yeah.”  He rubbed one of his eyes.  He was exhausted.  

“Are you… okay?”

Danny laughed.  “No.  No, I am not. Can we go, now?  Please?”

“I’m saying this as someone who hates hospitals, but you should get that looked at.  Really.”

“I’m ninety percent sure I have ectoplasm in my blood, so I’m going to take a hard pass on that one.”

.

“Ouch!” said Danny. His most recent fight with a ghost had been violent, and he’d yet again come away with injuries Sam and Tucker deemed ‘serious.’  “Are you sure you’re doing this right?”

“Look, Mr. No-Hospital, I had to learn first-aid from YouTube.  And I’ve only had a week to learn, because you didn’t tell us you decided to take up the family business.”

“Still more than what he did for himself,” said Tucker, peering over the back of Sam’s sofa.  “It’s just butterfly clips, anyway.  Not stitches.”

“Heh, butterfly clips,” said Danny.  “Makes me think of—Ouch!—barrettes.”

“Berets?” asked Tucker, adjusting his hat.

“Barrettes.  Hair barrettes.  Like, you know, the one Star wears all the time.  With the flower.”

“Oh.  Yeah.  No, I get what you mean.  But, yeah, you’re right about Danny’s medical skills.  Or should I say, the lack thereof.”

“Guys, I’m injured. Can you give it a rest?”

“Hm.  As you let yourself walk around with a mostly untreated stab wound, no.”

“It was more of a slash,” protested Danny.  Again. “A cut.  Not a stab.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” said Sam.  “Anyway, I’m done.  And you’re lucky whatever’s going on with your body keeps you from getting infections. I had to pick so much gravel out of your back it isn’t even funny.”

“Are we sure he can’t get infections?” mused Tucker.  “He could just be really lucky.”

“In no universe am I lucky,” groaned Danny.  “You’d think the freak lab accident would have shown you that.”  Danny sat up and stretched before pulling his shirt back on.

“Speaking of,” said Sam. “Are you ever going to tell us what actually happened?  You said it had to do with your parents’ portal, but…”

Danny had frozen.  “I…” he said, softly, not looking at either of them. “I will.  It’s just… not yet.  I’m not…  Just not yet.”

“It’s cool, man,” said Tucker.  “Take your time.  We’ll be there when you’re ready.”

Danny smiled.  “Thanks.”

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Yanois - Second Impressions Can Bring Misfortune

Read Part One here, or check it out on AO3!

Though their first meeting could have gone better, Illinois might be a little fond of the mystery prisoner. Let’s just hope his famous luck doesn’t run out…

Warning: There is an instance of deadnaming under the read-more. It’s accidental, but be mindful if that might cause a little upset. (I promise this doesn’t end on a bad note)

Word Count: 2,448 (sorry, it’s four hand-written pages)

-

After his encounter with the brash prisoner, Illinois found he couldn’t get the other man out of his head. It was hardly an attraction (no, shut up! It wasn’t!), but he accepted that there was a level of interest in the unknown. Perhaps it was the prisoner’s standoffish attitude, or how he seemed utterly disinterested yet keenly focused. He didn’t heckle during the lecture, so he wasn’t there for the sole purpose of causing trouble.

But the question that plagued Illinois was painfully simple: what was the prisoner’s name? He hated how badly he wanted to know. Ah, the curse of the archaeologist - insatiable curiosity! With no starting point, Illinois took inspiration from his work and fetched his laptop to start the research.

Most prisoners were from Texas, but not all. The stranger’s accent suggested he was potentially from New York, so Illinois decided to sieve through articles that made reference to a transferral to a Texan prison first. His abundance of good luck meant that it only took an hour to find a result that was most fitting. The article was several years old and discussed the outcome of a rather tragic case. The information was put to the back of his mind - Warden Murderslaughter always said to never talk about an inmate’s crime unless they bring it up first - as Illinois instead took the important information. The photograph used of the criminal was old, but it matched. Which meant… He had a name! All he had to do was wait until the next time he was set to visit Happy Trails Penitentiary.

-

As luck would have it, he merely had to wait a week. When he wasn’t travelling as part of archaeological trips, Illinois would volunteer two Saturdays a month to teach the inmates. Unlike his history lectures, these consisted of smaller groups of prisoners undertaking a short course on several points in history; which would be rounded off with each prisoner completing a short research project on something that interested them in the course. All he needed was to put his possessions in the room he used for classes, and then he would be free to find the right prisoner if he arrived earlier than usual. The inmates followed a set schedule with minor variations depending on when their work shifts were. He had been volunteering long enough to know when one of the crossover periods would take place. It would be easy to find him!

The rec yard was fruitless, as was the library. But it was upon leaving the chow hall that Illinois spotted the man of the hour. He seemed in a hurry as the prisoner dashed toward the hall.

“Ah! Can I have a moment?” Illinois called out. The tattooed man screeched to a halt, bemused once he realised who wanted his attention. Unfortunately, no one else was around, so it had to be him. 

“Sure. Fine. What?” His eyes didn’t stay on Illinois, but instead darted to the clock.

“I know this is likely a bad time, but I’d like a chance to talk. We got off on the wrong foot last time.” Even Illinois knew it didn’t go well. “Are you free after your shift?”

“U-uh…. Yeah?” Thrown by the turn of events, it appeared the bold prisoner was willing to cooperate. “I know I’d never hear the end of it if my friends heard I refused. They’s is always singing youse’s praises. ‘Sides, second chances is always a good thing, right?” He looked as though he was about to say something else, but decided against it. Regardless, Illinois was elated.

“Excellent! In that case, I’ll be in the classroom just opposite the library until seven this evening. Call by when you’re free. Even if there’s a class going on, sit in on it anyway.” The prisoner nodded and hurried past once he knew he was dismissed. Before the other disappeared into the chow hall, Illinois belatedly realised he should be more polite about this. He guessed the other might be swallowing his pride in accepting the invitation to chat, given their first meeting. The least he could do was show some manners.

“Thank you! I look forward to chatting, █████!”

Whatever progress had been made was instantly thrown aside. The prisoner froze in the doorway. Though his back was to Illinois, the archaeologist could see that the other was rigid. It wasn’t a reaction Illinois associated with hearing one’s own name…. Unless it was a name they didn’t use anymore.

“O-oh my God, I’m so sorry, I had no -” For once, Illinois found himself stammering in a frantic attempt to get an apology out. It was to no avail, as a fistful of his shirt had been grabbed and he was slammed against the wall.

“I don’t know what sorta shit game youse is playing,” the prisoner hissed, “But if youse is gonna act like youse is better than me by being such a sly bitch…. I really wanna beat the shit outta youse, but I don’t wanna get in trouble.”

“Yancy! That’s enough!” The prisoner - Yancy? - dropped Illinois without hesitation and didn’t struggle when two guards rushed over and restrained him. “Bring him into th’ chow hall to calm down. I’ll speak to him in a sec. As fer you…” Yancy was led away by the guards, and it was hard to ignore how withdrawn he seemed compared to minutes earlier. With heavy guilt, Illinois pulled his attention away to finally acknowledge Warden Murderslaughter, who had been the one to stop the disaster in its tracks. His lips were pursed and his arms crossed as he shook his head. “I’m disappointed in you, Illinois. Out of all our volunteers, I thought you would’ve known our most important rule better than anyone else: don’t provoke th’ inmates with topics that are touchy fer ‘em.”

“But I didn’t know -” Illinois’ head turned toward the chow hall’s entrance. “I only wanted to get to know him. I didn’t mean to…”

“Who told you that name?”

“No one?” He looked back at the Warden with confusion. “I read it in an article covering the trial online.” The Warden pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh.

“Son… You could’ve saved yourself a whole lotta bother if you’d thought to ask someone here, even over the phone. It isn’t like you to mess up like this.” He put an arm around Illinois’ shoulder and began guiding him toward the staff breakroom. “The name you used is correct, if you go by legal documents or the press, but it’s not the name he goes by. Everyone calls him ‘Yancy’. See, his birth name has links to pretty painful memories that I don’t think he’ll ever recover from, and he’s been striving to prove he’s a better person as ‘Yancy’. So to turn ‘round and use th’ wrong name is like a slap to the face and a surefire way for him to hate you. Now, I know you had good intentions and it was an honest mistake, but you need to be more careful. Next time you see him, give him a good, proper apology. Just know he’s probably gonna be frosty toward ya. I’ll go talk to him and check if he’s okay, let him know you didn't mean to use the wrong name.” The Warden threw a glance over his shoulder with a hint of a smile. “Yancy’s a good kid, despite how he acts sometimes. He’s been through some rough times, but his heart’s stayed in the right place. If he can have a friend outside the prison… I think it’ll do him some good. Now, get yourrself a coffee before you start classes.”

Illinois blinked, genuinely surprised to realise they had arrived. Murderslaughter gave him a hearty slap on the back of the shoulder (Illinois had learned long ago the art of hiding the wince from the strength of such actions) before making his way back to the chow hall.

---

In the chow hall, Yancy was a mess. He sat far away from anyone else who might have been there. A cup of water had been given to him, but it was used more as a stress ball rather than a drink. He didn’t know what to think. How could someone act like they wanted to be a friend, then turn around in the same breath and say something that implied the complete opposite? Why remind him of what he did long ago? The cup was put aside so he could slump across the table with a defeated groan. █████… Was that all he was ever going to be to the outside world? Would the attempts he has made to be a better person forever go unnoticed under the large, looming shadow of his crimes? Then again, prisoners like him were locked away to be forgotten about by the world.

His form tensed the moment he spotted the Warden sitting opposite him. This was it - he was going to be scolded and sent to Solitary, and probably lose other privileges on top of that. How dare Yancy lay a finger on the visitor everyone worshipped!!

But it was nothing like that. Murderslaughter checked if he was okay. They sat in silence for a few moments so Yancy could try and collect himself without anyone else approaching. Then, the Warden praised him for not completely lashing out, but then took time to explain Illinois’ side of things.

“- He’s not like the reporters or anyone else who comes to ‘visit’ you. He was a moron who didn’t ask th’ staff for your name. It seems like he wants to try an’ be friends…. But it’s fine if ya don’t wanna see him today. An’ if you’d rather go lie down instead of working, that’s fine too.

“N-no… I’d rather work. Don’t really wanna be left alone with my thoughts just yet.”

-

Yancy spent the rest of the morning washing dishes. The work wasn’t ‘busy’ enough to keep his mind distracted, but it was labour-intensive and he could work out his frustration on the crockery. By the time he finished his shift and lunch, he returned to his cell with an idea - he needed to get rid of the White Jaguar model. It had to be the source of the blame.

But just like a blasted boomerang, the clay figure kept returning to him in ridiculous manners throughout the afternoon. Yancy dropped it in the trash on the way outside, only to be tapped on the shoulder by another prisoner who thought it was dropped by mistake. Trying to gift it to anyone in the Gang had them refuse - Bam-Bam had initially accepted, but changed his mind when he held the tiny model and handed it back to Yancy with the excuse that it ‘belonged’ to him. He then hid it in the long grass in the rec yard. When no one immediately found it, he went to the bathroom, returned to his cell… And was greeted with the terrifying sight of the White Jaguar sitting on his pillow, staring at him. Overcome with frustration, he decided to simply break it. He threw it at the wall with all his might. Instead of smashing, it ricocheted off the wall and toppled his radio that had been on his bed, before landing neatly on the pillow. Yancy picked it up, he swore there was a look of smugness on the Jaguar’s face, which reminded him of… Wait.

He could simply return it to Illinois and ask him never to speak to Yancy again. It would solve two problems at once.

---

“Come in!” Illinois’ voice was upbeat as he tidied the classroom after a day of workshops. The guilt from earlier had been put aside in favour of professionalism. He did have a reputation to uphold, after all. However, that professionalism immediately slipped the moment he saw who entered.

“Yancy!” The name was blurted out with relief more than pleasantry. Whatever Illinois had been putting into his briefcase was unceremoniously dumped as he gave Yancy his full attention. “Before you say anything…. I want to apologise for this morning. I made the mistake of not checking with the staff what name you prefer to go by. It was careless of me. I know I upset you, and I am truly sorry. You don’t need to forgive me, as I know it’s something that hurt you… But I just want you to know I didn’t mean to use that name, and I’ll never use it again, Yancy.”

Yancy was dumbfounded. No one who deliberately used that name apologised. They never cared that it made him uncomfortable and upset. Emotions stung him for the second time that day, but polar opposites to the anger that had nearly consumed him in the morning.

“I-I, uh… Thanks. For apologising, I mean. Takes balls to admit youse was wrong ‘bout something. But it means a lot that, y’know, youse said sorry. So… If it’s okay with youse, we can consider it forgiven and forgotten.” Yancy looked ill at ease, but Illinois couldn’t blame him. It would be better to find a new topic to talk about before Yancy decided to swiftly dismiss himself. At that moment, Yancy adjusted his stance, drawing Illinois’ attention to his hand.

“Is that the White Jaguar model I gave you?”

Yancy blinked and looked at his hand like he didn’t know it had existed until that very moment. He opened his mouth, only to snap it shut with a quick shake of his head. When he did speak again, there was the faintest hint of a smile.

“Yeah, uh… Had a few people asking ‘bout it, but I don’t remember shit from that talk so… Is it too late to join one of these class things you is doing?” Yancy mentally slapped himself for doing the opposite of what he had intended, but it wasn’t met with a cocky reaction. Instead, Illinois’ face lit up like the Fourth of July and invited Yancy to the desk so they could check if there was a class that would fit neatly into Yancy’s schedule. There was a hint of awkwardness between them, but Illinois was optimistic that this could be the start of a better chapter for them.

However, he did get a little ahead of himself and winked at Yancy just before the prisoner left. Yancy rolled his eyes, but the dismissive look had a trace of amusement in it as he left. Once the door closed, Illinois found himself staring at it for several long moments.

Okay… Maybe there was a bit of an attraction toward Yancy after all.

[kerie-prince]

the memory of you pt. 1

Gilderoy Lockhart x Healer!reader

requested: (anon) Omg thank you! If you want to write any kind of Lockhart scenario that suggests NSFW stuff then I'd totally be cool with whatever you come up with 😊 thanks again so much! ❤️

warnings: none

summary: After helping Gilderoy deal with his memory loss and get him out of St. Mungo's, you couldn't help but fall for his charm once more when he finds you on the streets of London.

a/n: I THOUGHT I QUEUED THIS 💀 i sat here at work thinking 'damn, no one liked my post? k 😭' anyways, i'm gonna break this into two parts before it gets too long lmao. bold italics are flashbacks

(gif not mine, cred to owner)

You worked with a certain celebrity for quite a while now. He was brought in one day without knowing who he was, where he came from, and how he ended up in a weird cave. His residence at St. Mungo’s where you worked lasted for a while. Other Healers declared that there was no way to recover his memory, but he didn’t seem to mind. Gilderoy was perfectly content with being happy and healthy even if he didn't know what was going on.

He was so sweet. Never gave you or any of your colleagues any trouble. He took his potions with ease, didn't make a fuss when bringing him from one room to another, and held conversations as normal. His family would visit him on occasion and it pained you to watch him not know them. But overall, he was happy.

After two years at St. Mungos, Gilderoy was let go considering that even though his memories were gone, he had enough mental stability to be out in public. Gilderoy had to go to a private academy to re-learn magic basics in adult classes. You remember the night before he left.

“So nice to start my life tomorrow,” Gilderoy had his signature smile on. He ate his dinner on his own without the help of Healers.

“Your life has already started, you just don't remember is all,” you corrected. You were preparing his bed for the last time. Since it's his last night, you were able to grab an extra pillow for him to be comfortable.

“Yes, but tomorrow I'll start a life I can remember. I'll make new memories.” Gilderoy stood up from his small table and walk to his hospital bed. He always loved the way you prepared his bed. How you fluffed the pillow, folded the blankets back neatly, and made sure the bed was warm. It wasn't special treatment as you did it for all patients, but he appreciated it all the same.

“Good night, Miss Y/L/N,” he said.

“Good night, Mr. Lockhart,” you replied.

Two years later, you're still working at St. Mungos. You've seen patients come and go since then. None quite as cooperative as Gilderoy, but they weren't all bad either.

The London streets were busy as usual today. It was slightly cloudy, but luckily it wasn't raining. And thank Merlin because you didn't have an umbrella with you. Cabs were driving right past you as you stood by the sidewalk trying to catch one. Once one stopped in front of you and you were about to climb in, another hand also grabbed for the handle. “Miss Y/L/N?”

Gilderoy stood next to you, eyes gleaming and wore his charming smile. He looked as happy as he always did. “Mr. Lockhart, hello.” It was a pleasant run in, and you'd love to chat but you had to be at work soon. It seemed that he noticed your uniform as well. “Oh, go ahead. I'll call for another one.”

“Thank you, Mr. Lockhart.” You opened the door but before you could close it, Gilderoy said one last thing. “I hope to see you again!” He waved at you as you left and kept at it until you were out of sight.

His wish was granted three months later; he was walking around the same street for probably the 4th time that week. He wasn't ashamed to admit that after that day he ran into you, he wanted to see you again. You were with a couple of friends at a pub one night celebrating a proper weekend off. Gilderoy followed you in, a bit of people that recognized him stopped him to say ‘hi’ but of course, he doesn't know them. They were fans of his before the memory loss. They took a few pictures and he went walking after you. You were seen sitting at a bar table by yourself waiting for your friends to come back from the restroom.

Gilderoy walked up to you slowly, “Hello, Miss Y/L/N.” You recognized him and by pure habit, you gave him your work smile and voice, “Good evening, Mr. Lockhart.”

“Please, call me Gilderoy,” he requested.

“Gilderoy,” you reached your hand out to shake his, “you can call me Y/N.” His smile changed, not one that you've seen in magazines and papers, but a more humble one. His cheeks became a bit rosy and he looked like he was flustered. “So, how have you been?” he asked. You took a quick sip of the water that was on the table before continuing the conversation, “I’ve been good! Just been working all the time. How about you? I bet so many great things have been going with you?”

“Not really. Since I didn't know much about my life before I was admitted in, I didn't know where to start. So I lived with my mother for a while, but now I’m on my own.” Seeing Gilderoy be so humble was a sight to see. A once self-centered, proud man has turned into a sweet, kind one. You almost wanted to thank whoever did this to him, not knowing it was actually Gilderoy who had accidentally done this to myself. “Well, are you working right now?” you asked him.

“No, I don’t really have anything to offer,” he looked down.

“That’s not true, you…” you stopped to think about what it was that Gilderoy could do. And unfortunately, it wasn't much. When word had gone out that he had actually stolen credit for all the things he had claimed to have done, people wondered if he was good at anything.

Gilderoy laughed at your blank expression. You felt bad. “Well, I’m sure you’re good at something.” You patted his shoulder gently across the table. Your friends came back from the restroom after what felt like twenty minutes. “Oh! It’s Gilderoy Lockhart, so nice to meet you,” each of them shook his hand. “What brings you here?”

Suddenly, he was embarrassed to say that he was spending weeks trying to find you. “Oh, I was just around. I walked inside and recognized Y/N. Thought I’d say hello,” he felt a bit nervous at that moment. “Well I best be going. I don't want to intrude. Have a good evening.” Gilderoy was about to leave until one of your friends called out for him, “No, stay! I’m sure Y/N would love to catch up with you, isn't that right?” You weren't sure if it would be appropriate to hang out with a former patient. Sure, it’s been a couple years since then, but you've never had any patients become even acquaintances, let alone friends. But the look in Gilderoy’s eyes that were basically begging you to say ‘yes’ hit something in you. “If you’re not doing anything else tonight, I'm sure we would like your company tonight.”

Gilderoy was funnier than he seemed to be. Being one of the Healers that worked with him for nearly four years, you never knew about this. He was telling the story of the first time he had used the levitation spell during his adult classes and he accidentally made his professor levitate and not the inanimate object on the table. Slightly tipsy, you and your friends laughed so hard trying to picture the situation. Gilderoy said he panicked and when he tried to let him down, the professor fell from ten feet in the air on his head and passed out. Luckily, he wasn't kicked out to the class but it was certainly something the professor never let him live down.

By the end of the night, your friends had gotten plastered and left for home. You were fine; your tipsy state was gone. You made sure your friends were set in the cab and told the cabbie their addresses. Gilderoy stood behind you and watched as you took care of your friends. It was different than when you worked, but it brought back memories when you took care of him.

When the cab drove off, you turned to look at the blond man. “Well, it was great seeing you, Mr. Lock– Gilderoy,” you quickly corrected yourself. You nodded and started walking down the street before he called for you again. “W-would you like to take a walk?” You thought about it, the same thought from earlier. But you've already shared a few drinks with him, so a walk wouldn't hurt. The sky was clear and although the stars were faint, there were a couple large ones that you could point out. You walked in silence for a couple minutes until you spoke up, “The weather’s nice.” He nodded quietly. It wasn't odd for him, but it was for you. It was odd to see him not as talkative as he used to be. You supposed that when you have your memories wiped, your personality could be affected as well. But he was still somewhat himself when he was a patient, so this change must have happened in the past two years. You hoped that nothing bad happened in that time.

It was getting later and later, but something about Gilderoy was different and you liked being around this sort of new him. He’s more inviting compared to how he was when he was a celebrity. The feeling of it being weird with him outside of work was gone, and something else started. You wanted to get to know him as a person again.

You checked the time on your wristwatch and decided that you should head home eventually. “It was nice seeing you tonight. I hope to see you again,” you grinned. His eyes lit up as he looked at you, “I would love that. Maybe we can have tea sometime?”

“I’d like that. Goodnight, Gilderoy.”

“Good night, Y/N.” He signaled a cab for you and like he did the last time, he waved until he couldn't see you anymore.

—

requests open!

[sparrow-flies-south]

The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

Pairings: Dukexiety (Remus/Virgil) Summary: Virgil has a bad day. Remus makes things better, in his own way. Warnings: One line mention of transphobic relatives,  Notes: Written as a gift for @rem-sl33p as part of @sanderssidesgiftxchange! 

Thanks to @droidofmay for beta reading

Masterpost Read on AO3

It was one of those days that started off bad and got worse from there.

First, Virgil had slept through his alarm, and only woke up when Remus realised it was five minutes until he had to leave and he still wasn’t up yet. He managed to make it to work on time, but only barely. The same couldn’t be said for one of his coworkers, who didn’t bother showing up at all, so Virgil had to do the work for both of them.

And then there had been the rush of people trying to buy presents in time for Christmas, and his manager, who was exceptionally grumpy today, had kept snapping at Virgil for not doing things fast enough, even though he was doing the work of two people.

Then he’d been late leaving, so he’d missed his bus and had to wait in the cold for the next one – it started snowing, what the fuck – and then Remus had stopped answering his texts.

It took him a few stops to notice, and sure, Remus could get distracted sometimes, but what if he wasn’t. Look, Virgil knew what he was like, okay, he knew he could be an asshole at the best of times, and today certainly wasn’t one of those times. He scrolled back through the messages to try to see if he’d done anything wrong – was Remus annoyed he’d be late back, should he not have replied with that whole novel when Remus asked what was wrong, what if he’d gotten offended when Virgil replied K to one of Remus’ texts?

Yeah, he ended up with three more stops of panicking about that, before finally making it home. Theatrics really wasn’t his thing, but when he saw his door come into sight, he was about ready to burst into tears from relief.

Not that being home would solve the potential Remus problem, but still, he might be able to disappear under the covers and never came out after.

He was just about to open the door when it opened for him, and Janus stepped out.

Janus’ eyes widened –apparently he hadn’t known Virgil was out there. “Ah, Virgil. Hello.”

Normally Virgil would be happy to see Janus – they’d met in the same local trans group, and Janus had been the one to introduce Virgil to Remus, all those years ago – but right now, he just wanted this day to be over.

“What are you doing here?” Virgil asked.

A moment of hesitation, and then, “Remus and I are having an affair.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Congratulations. Can I get into my apartment now?”

Janus stepped aside. “I heard you had a long day.”

“Getting longer by the minute,” Virgil muttered, and crap, now he was doing the asshole thing again.

Janus just smiled, though. Probably because Janus was also an asshole, so it balanced out. “If you need help with that, let me know.”

Virgil rolled his eyes again. “Janus, when I complained about my cousins being transphobic, you told me to push them down the stairs.”

“I object to that, your honour,” Janus said. “The technical wording was ‘nudge’. And it’s advice that can be applied in many aspects of life.”

“Good bye Janus,” Virgil said, reaching for the door. He hesitated. “Hey, Janus? Did Remus seem, uh, annoyed? At me, I mean.”

Janus’ face softened. “Oh, Virgil,” he said. “Answering yes would be a lie too big for even me.”

Janus left, and Virgil was stuck staring at the door. This was fine. Janus had said Remus wasn’t mad, in his roundabout way of doing so. Unless Janus had lied, which he was prone to do, but not in situations like this. Or unless Remus had been hiding it from Janus, because Virgil and Janus were friends-

Okay, even Virgil could tell he was being ridiculous at that moment. All he had to do to figure out if Remus was mad or not was open the door. Then either everything would be fine, and Virgil could try to forget about his shit day, or Remus would tell him that he was upset.

Which would also be fine. Probably. Hopefully.

“Fuck it,” he muttered at last. He swung the door open, because that way he had to go inside, otherwise Remus might see and know that he was lurking in the corridor like a weirdo.

He managed to take one step over the threshold before freezing.

The room was dark – the lights were turned off, and the curtains were drawn – but Remus had strung up fairy lights, which let out a gentle red glow. As for the rest of the room-

“Are those the Halloween decorations?”

“Fuck,” Remus said, from where he was knelt in front of the TV. “I was meant to hear you coming.”

Fake cobwebs had been hung on the walls, and a cluster of fake pumpkins surrounded the TV. Sat on the sofa was the skeleton Remus had stolen when he’d worked at a haunted house. Fake animal skeletons were dotted around the place – an anatomically incorrect spider on the TV stand; a rat with ear bones on the coffee table; a snake on the arm of the sofa.

Remus quickly got up and hurried to Virgil. “Okay, so, you were meant to be blindfolded at this point.”

“Hard pass,” Virgil muttered,

“And I would be holding your hand, like this-“ Remus reached out and took it. Just the press of contact made Virgil feel better, like some of the day was sliding away from him. He shifted closer to Remus – probably more than needed, but the smell of Remus’ cologne let him know that nothing could touch him here.

“And then I’d take the blindfold off, and you’d say-“

“Is that the Halloween decorations?” Virgil repeated.

Remus grinned, andVirgil’s heart squeezed at the sight. “Okay, so, I want you to have the best day ever, and I figured, what day could possibly be better than Halloween?”

Virgil laughed, because that was so incredibly Remus.

“I even got candy!” Remus added. “Or, well, Janus did. He says hi, by the way.”

“I know, I saw him. How did you even have time to do all this?”

“Eh, I’m fast when I want to be,” Remus said with a wave of his hand.  “But, hey, you haven’t even seen the best part!”

Remus dragged Virgil into the room and to the sofa. Virgil followed, because there was no good trying to stop Remus when he was like this – if you tried, you’d just drive yourself crazy. Virgil had long since learned to just grab hold of Remus’ momentum, and wait to see whether he’d end up in a nerf gun war or trying to make the Best Birthday Cake Ever ™.

(Fortunately, Patton hadn’t minded the mess that one had resulted in.)

“Let me guess,” Virgil joked. “You’ve killed every annoying customer from today.”

“Oh, shit,” Remus said. “I didn’t even think of that. We could release them all into a forest and hunt them for sport.”

“Let’s table that idea for later,” Virgil suggested.

Remus pouted. “Fine.” He brightened again, “But look what I planned for tonight!”

Virgil looked to the TV, which already had films queued up to watch.

“Velocipastor,” Virgil read aloud. “Cat People; Attack of the Killer Tomatoes. These are all terrible.”

“I know, right? We can make fun of them together.”

“You mean I can make fun of them,” Virgil corrected. “You will spend the whole time trying to figure out how to recreate the practical effects.”

“Hey, that’s my biggest hobby. Just like how insulting things is yours.”

“We make such a good couple,” Virgil deadpanned, before freeing his hand from Remus’ grip so he could stick them both in his pockets. What he was about to say next was sappy, and Virgil didn’t do sappy. “Seriously, though, thanks. For all of this. You didn’t have to.”

Remus looked confused. “What do you mean?” he asked, as if Virgil had just told him he didn’t have to breathe. Like the thought of not going out of his way to cheer Virgil up hadn’t occurred to him, never mind that Virgil was always having bad days that put him on edge and made him unpleasant to be around.

“I mean, it was just a crappy day,” Virgil said. “Not the end of the world.”

Even if, sure, there had been times when it had felt like the end of the world.

“But I don’t want you to have crappy days,” Remus said petulantly.

“Pretty sure it doesn’t work like that. That’s just- kinda the way I am.”

“I know,” Remus said. “And I love the way you are, except for how you sometimes think you’re not a good person, because I kind of want to fight the parts of you that say. But I also want to give them a hug and tell them that everything will be okay, which is kind of terrifying, actually, because wow, I am not an ‘everything will be okay’ kind of person. More of a let’s brainstorm how to make things worse kind of person.” Remus blinked, apparently realising his train of thought had gotten so far off the rails it had destroyed a small town, and shrugged. “Anyway, I want to make your bad days better, but I’m not as good at this kind of thing as you are, so-“

“Wait,” Virgil interrupted. “What do you mean not as good at this as me? I’m rubbish at – pretty much everything involving emotions, basically.”

Along with everything else, some part of him whispered, but he ignored it. The part was quieter than it had been all day, anyway.

“But you’re not!” Remus protested. “I know you’re not, because when everything goes wrong and my thoughts are too loud, you’re always there. And you make things better, just by being there. So that’s why I’m doing this. To make things better, because you deserve better.”

“Oh,” Virgil said, unsure what to say. It was terrifying, at times, the depth of Remus’ love. Like standing at the edge of the Grand Turk drop-off and watching the ocean fall away beneath you.

“Yeah,” Remus finished, smiling sheepishly. “So, uh, I panicked and decided to recreate Halloween in the middle of December. Surprise.”

And then Virgil couldn’t stop himself from laughing, because only Remus would even think to do something like that. And only Remus would manage to pull it off so well.

“So, uh, are we done with the emotional thing now?” Remus asked. “Because we’d better get started if we want to finish these movies by tomorrow.”

“Fuck yeah, emotional time is over,” Virgil said, wiping at his eyes. “But, uh,” he hesitated, something squeezing his chest and whispered he won’t want to. He’ll think you’re pathetic. Virgil pushed it down. “Can we cuddle, first? Just for a little while?”

“Of course,” Remus said. He held out his arms, and Virgil melted into them.

Remus was warm, because he was always warm, and he smelled like the too-strong cologne he always wore, the only that Remus had once joked was Pickled Poo-Logs flavour. One of his hands reached up to run his fingers through Virgil’s hair.

“I got ya, Fright Night,” he murmured. “I love you.”

Virgil’s heat skipped at that, the way it always did, because some part was always convinced that this was it, this was the point where Remus would decide to just stop loving him. And every time, Remus proved that part wrong, without even realising what he was doing.

“I love you too,” Virgil mumbled, and then the waterworks opened, and he couldn’t stop crying.

“Ah, shit,” Remus said. “Did I do something? Fuck, I’m sorry, please don’t cry.”

“You gave me Halloween,” Virgil said, smacking him lightly. “Don’t you dare act like you could have done something wrong. That’s – fuck, that’s probably the best thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

“Okay, we’re going to have to have a conversation about the height of that bar later,” Remus said, and Virgil snorted and buried his face into Remus’ chest. “For now, uh, let it all out, I guess? Better out than in, I always say, though I normally say that about something else.”

“Thanks,” Virgil muttered, but the tears were already starting to ease off. He stayed where he was, nestled against Remus, able to feel the rhythmic rise and fall of Remus’ breathing.

[hannibard]

I recently got second hole earrings and it inspired me to write this!

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier

Read on ao3

“Do I really have to do this?” Geralt asked as he got inside his ex-girlfriends car.

“Yes.” Yennefer answered without looking at him before turning the engine on and exiting the parking.

“Hm. Can’t I just buy you a meal instead?”

“No.”

“What about one of those unicorn dildos you wanted?”

“Tempting but still no.”

Geralt sighed and raised his hand to run it through his hair before remembering that it’s up in a bun and doing so would ruin it, so he placed it back on his lap instead.

Yennefer rolled her eyes.

“Can you maybe chill a bit? You’re the one who bet that you could eat 80 hotdogs in a row without puking and you agreed that if you lost you’d get your ears pierced.” She said, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. “A deal’s a deal, you can’t just back out now.”

Geralt let out a frustrated grunt. “In my defense I was wasted at the time, but I know.”

“Then stop being a little bitch. What are you even worried about anyways? Don’t tell me you’re scared. It doesn’t hurt much, you’re barely gonna feel it.” 

“Fuck no Yenn. I don’t mind a bit of pain, you know that.”

Yennefer turned to wink at him. “That I do.”

They were both silent for a moment as they reminisce some of the better parts of their previous romantic entanglement.

Yennefer cleared her throat and asked again. “Then what’s the fucking problem?”

“I just… I’m not sure how earrings would look on me.”

Yennefer hummed and Geralt chuckled softly. “That’s my line.”

Yennefer laughed but then turned serious. “…I personally think they’d look very sexy on you and fit with your general rocker/bordering on too much leather vibe but if you really don’t want to do this then I can find another equally torturous way for you to settle this bet but without any permanent changes to your appearance.”

Geralt was somewhat shocked to see her yield this easily but he probably shouldn’t have been. He knew how good of a person she was underneath her cold exterior and he also knew that even though things didn’t work out between them she still cared a great deal about him, the same way he still cared about her. It’s the reason they became such good friends after their inevitable separation, and she would never push him to do something outside of his boundaries. 

He smiled softly even though she can’t see it with her eyes on the road.

 “It’s fine. I made a promise and I intend to keep it.”

 …

 They arrived at the piercing/tattoo parlor soon after, Yennefer telling Geralt about a new sushi restaurant she and her girlfriend, Renfri, went to last weekend as they enter the building. They walked up to the counter where a clerk with shoulder-length curly chestnut hair was waiting to assist them. “Hello and welcome to ‘Yellow Lotus Body Art’, my name’s Triss. Do you have an appointment?”

Yennefer nodded.

Triss smiled politely. “Great, could you please give me a name?”

“Geralt Rivia.” 

“Oh, for the ear piercings right? Please wait a moment while I go check if Jaskier’s ready.” She said before disappearing behind a door.

Geralt side-eyed his friend. “You made the appointment in my name?”

“You’re the one requesting their services so isn’t it natural?”

Geralt was about to reply with something snarky when suddenly the backdoor opened and the most attractive guy Geralt had ever laid eyes on walked out.

 He was a little bit younger than him, maybe in his mid-twenties and he had short brown hair in a teen Justin Bieber type hairstyle, that while long out of fashion looked really good on him and gorgeous cornflower blue eyes that seemed to look right into his soul. 

He was wearing an oversized dress shirt with wide pink and white stripes which was messily tucked into his skinny ripped jeans that were folded at the bottom. Several of the buttons at the top of the shirt were left unbuttoned, revealing pale skin covered with a thick patch of chest hair that made Geralt’s mouth go dry.

For shoes he was sporting a pair of brown leather oxford boots that were short enough to show his ridiculous SpongeBob patterned socks. He had various jewelry on, such as a black choker and a simple silver necklace around his neck, rings on his fingers and also several piercings on his ears as well as his nose, eyebrows and one single silver stud on his chin and his arms and collarbone were covered in tattoos depicting yellow flowers (buttercups maybe? Geralt wasn’t sure), music notes and many other random designs. Last but not least, wrapped around his wrist was a bracelet with the bisexual flag on which Geralt was especially happy to see and it made his heart soar with hope.

The man looked at both Yennefer and Geralt up and down with a glint in his eye and grinned widely. “Hello there! I’m Julian but everyone calls me Jaskier. I do both piercings and tattoos here and I’m very happy to make your acquaintance.” He clapped his hands together. “So! Which one of you is Geralt?”

The pair gave him a dry look, or at least Yennefer did because Geralt’s was closer to smitten more than anything else.

“What? I didn’t want to make any assumptions.” Jaskier said sheepishly and bit his lower lip. Geralt’s eyes were immediately drawn to the gesture.

Yennefer leaned on the counter and nodded towards her ex with a roll of her eyes. “It’s him.”

“Perfect! Please follow me.” Jaskier said and led them down a hallway and inside a room. There was a tattoo chair in the middle and the younger man motioned for Geralt to sit on it.

“Triss mentioned that it’s your first time getting a piercing correct?” Jaskier asked while putting on some plastic gloves.

“Yeah.” Geralt answered and avoided eye contact trying to not stare at the guy too much, something which was proving to be quite hard.

Jaskier sighed and looked up dreamily. 

“I remember when I first had my ears pierced.” He said and started taking various small packages out from a drawer and arranging them neatly in a surgical stand next to Geralt’s chair.

“I was in middle school and the guy I liked at the time had earrings so I asked him where he got them just to start a conversation and he told me and then offered to come with me if I ever wanted to try it out so of course I said yes and after I did it I became obsessed with piercings so here I am today.”

Yennefer snorted from the doorway where she was standing with her arms crossed. “Wait, so you basically just did it for some guy?” she asked in a judgmental tone which Geralt was confused about since she literally brought him here for an even stupider reason.

Jaskier just chuckled unoffended. “Not just some guy! I lost my virginity to him not long after.” He said and started opening the packages and taking various metal tools out of them. “And I’d blame it on the fact that I was a teenager at the time but even now when I fall in love it’s always fast.” He turned and winked at Geralt. “And hard.”

Geralt’s eyes widened and he blushed. He cleared his throat trying to feign nonchalance “Hm. That doesn’t really sound fun honestly.”

Jaskier made a thoughtful sound. “Sometimes it is and other times it isn’t I guess. Depends on how the other party will respond.”

He seemed to want to say more on the subject, but he was done with the preparations and he had no reason to stall. “Before we start, I must inform you that all the tools I’m gonna use have been sterilized and sealed in those packages you saw earlier to avoid infection so you don’t have to worry about that.”

He picked up a marker and came close to Geralt to mark the place where the holes on his ears would be made. Once he was done he held a mirror in front of his client. “Is this ok?”

The older man just nodded and Jaskier put the mirror back.

 “Have you thought about what sort of earrings you’d like?”

Geralt had in fact not thought about this at all. “Not really.” He answered honestly.

“Whoa seriously? How do you even come to a place like this without deciding that first?”

“…I lost a bet.” Geralt grumbled while Yennefer laughed.

“Well I’ll have your friend here tell me all about it while you go back to the counter and choose something with Triss. Come on now, off you go!” Jaskier said and kicked him out of the room.

Geralt was worried that his newfound crush was more interested in his ex-girlfriend than him so he wasn’t really paying attention to what Triss was saying, basically letting her pick the first thing she suggested before hurriedly making his way back to the room.

As he got closer, he could hear Jaskier’s beautiful laugh and he quickened his pacing. He was about to open the door when the question the tattoo artist asked Yennefer stopped him dead in his tracks.

“So are you guys together or…?”

“No no, we’re just friends currently. Tried the whole relationship thing out long ago and it didn’t work out. Though I must inform you that I’m dating someone else at the moment but Geralt’s single if you wanna shoot your shot.” 

“I just might.” Jaskier was saying as Geralt re-entered the room. 

Two pair of eyes looked back at him and the piercer shot him a charming smile. “Welcome back big guy! Come here and show me what you’ve chosen.”

Geralt handed him the earrings and sat back down. 

“Black studs huh? Not a bad choice for your first time.” He said and picked up something that looked like scissors, leaning over Geralt.

“You ready?” he asked and Geralt took a deep breath which was the wrong thing to do because his lungs filled with Jaskier’s scent and it was intoxicating. If he had to use words to describe it he’d say it was a pleasant mix of lavender and something citrusy with a hint of sweat coming through as well. 

His heart started beating faster and he looked at Yennefer all panicked. She just raised an eyebrow in return. “What? Need me to hold your hand or something?” 

Geralt growled and looked back at Jaskier. “Just get it over with.”

Jaskier shrugged and got to work. It stung a bit, but it didn’t bother Geralt in the slightest. He actually barely noticed it with Jaskier’s close proximity and the sound of his gentle humming as he worked being all he could thing about.

After he was done, Jaskier picked up a few cotton swabs and poured some sort of clear liquid over them before using them to wipe at Geralt’s ears.

“All done!” He said after stepping back to admire his work. He gave Geralt the mirror from previously to look at the earrings himself as Yennefer came over as well.

Geralt was pleasantly surprised to note that he really liked what he saw. They were very noticeable with his hair being white and all but they didn’t make him look any less masculine as he secretly feared. Plus, they fit quite nicely with his all-black outfit that consisted of black jeans, black combat boots, a black t-shirt and a black leather jacket.

Yennefer whistled appreciatively. “I don’t know about you but I love them.”

Geralt shook his head. “No no, I feel the same way. Thanks for convincing me to do this.” He turned to Jaskier who was smiling back at him. “And thank you for everything.” 

“Just doing my job.” He said in a sing song voice and turned around, bending down to rummage through one of the lower drawers and giving Geralt a very nice view of his ass. His shirt rode up as well, making the tramp stamp of a dragonfly he had tattooed on his lower back visible and Geralt felt himself getting hotter by the second.

Yennefer noticed him looking and smirked but didn’t comment.

Jaskier stood back up and handed him a piece of paper and a small card. He pointed at the paper. “This one has instructions on what to do after you go home, though the gist of it is clean the holes with a cotton swab drenched in saline solution two to three times every day for 2 months and then you’d be able to take those earrings off and try on others.”

He then pointed at the card. “And this is the warranty for the black studs.” He said and took the gloves off, throwing them in a trash can.

“If you somehow happen to lose them, come by and we’ll just redo the process ok?” 

“Yes.” Geralt answered and cursed himself for his bad social skills. How does he keep the conversation going?

“Oh, and I also think I should give you my personal number, y’know, just in case something happens.” Jaskier added and looked up at him expectantly.

Geralt was quick to take the chance that was given to him. “I’d like that.”

Jaskier beamed at him relieved. He took back the paper and quickly scribbled his number down before handing it to him. “Have a nice day Geralt. And Yennefer too.”

“I’m honored you remembered me. Come on Geralt, let’s go pay.” Geralt smiled and gave Jaskier a small wave as he was dragged outside by his ex.

“Goodbye Jaskier.”

[msoogabooga]

The Insufferable Tom Riddle • (Tom Riddle x Reader)

Warnings: None

Summary: Reader has an ongoing rivalry with Tom Riddle. One question shifts the tides.

A/N: Uh hi. I haven’t written fanfiction since 8th grade. (It’s been 5 years). Hopefully this isn’t terrible and, yes, there will be a second part.

•••

Octobers at Hogwarts are nothing short of momentous. While the weather outside is perfect for walks around the castle or a good game of quidditch, it is also around the time where lessons begin to pick up in difficulty. Professors begin cramming down more homework than usual while encouraging you to take a trip to the library during your free time. You decide to take their advice today.

You sit at the end of one of the empty tables, quill in hand and your worn out copy of A History of Magic open in front of you. However, your vision wasn’t focused on the textbook nor the blank parchment paper that was supposed to contain your finished essay. No, your focus was outside the window with a perfect view of the castle grounds. Students all bundled up in their respective house scarves sit outside, talking amongst themselves. A group of Hufflepuffs sit together with their textbooks open, laughing and chatting away. A Ravenclaw and Slytherin walk by, hand in hand. And a single Gryffindor, though alone, seems to be having the time of his life climbing a nearby tree. All you can do is observe and wish that you had a group to join in. You have friends, of course, but they are all from different friend groups. And not a single one could join you in your study session. You don’t blame them, no not at all. Not everyone wishes to be crammed in the library working on a 5 page essay on a beautiful fall morning.

You sigh and close your textbook. Clearly, no work was going to be done today. You twirl your quill in your hand and continue staring outside the window. Observing people isn’t the most interesting past time, but it certainly beats chucking out a painfully lengthy essay over the International Warlock Convention of 1289. Your moment of peace was interrupted by a copy of Advanced Potion Making being slammed in front of you. You look up to see the culprit being a smug Tom Riddle looking down at you.

“Given up already?” He says, referring to the blank pieces of parchment sitting in front of you. He pulls out a chair and sits directly in front of you, not even bothering to ask if he was allowed to do so.

“Do you mind?” You reply, not finding the urge to start an argument with him like how you would usually.

You had a history with Tom Riddle. You never paid much attention to him throughout your years at Hogwarts together. He was always the odd kid who sat in the back. It wasn’t until this year when he made an offhand comment about your grades. This sparked a small competition and rivalry between you two. It was nothing official, but you always boast in front of him when you make a higher grade than him on an assignment and he returns the favor. It has since escalated from just grades. Due to his new Head Boy title, he always makes sure to give you an extra hard time, going out of his way to deduct points for any minor infraction. This always leads to you silently cursing at him, which he also deducts points for. Now he sits in front of you without invitation, wearing the most annoying look you have ever seen.

“I don’t mind at all.” He replies. “I can’t believe you’re just starting on that essay. I finished it days ago. Quite easy, at least for me.”

“I’m trying to study here, Riddle.” You open your textbook back up and begin skimming the pages again. “I’d appreciate it if you went to bother another innocent soul.”

“Oh, but what’s the fun in that? I admit, getting a row out of you is quite amusing sometimes.”

“So all of this is a game to you then? Childish. Don’t you have a potions test to study for?”

“You tell me. How did that Undetectable Poisons exam go?”

You slam your textbook shut once more and shoot him a glare. He knew that you had bombed that test hard. Now, he’s taking any chance he gets to remind you of it. You begin gathering your belongings as he smirks at you.

“Did I hit a nerve there?” He says, watching you as you get up from the table.

“I’ve just about had enough of you!” You walk away from the table, not saying another word to him. To your surprise, he had gotten up and began walking alongside you.

“Just about?” He asks, carrying his textbook in his hand.

“I’ve had enough of you.” You clarify. “I can’t even study in peace without you sticking your nose in my business. You’re so obnoxious.” You head into a random section in the library and begin skimming the shelves. You weren’t looking for anything in particular but you hoped this could make him leave you be. Half expecting it though, it didn’t.

“Obnoxious?” He asks. “Tsk tsk, what a shame. Didn’t know you felt that way. It’s quite unfortunate when I was merely coming to ask you something.”

“What is it?” You ask, annoyed more than ever with him.

“Forgiveness.” Your expression changes at this as you raise an eyebrow. You didn’t trust him or his seemingly good intentions at all. This is probably some sort of joke setup and you were NOT about to be the subject of it.

“I don’t care for your forgiveness.” You brush him off.

“Well I’d like to apologize anyway.���

“I know where this is going, Riddle. This is one of your tricks. You’ll lead me into believing you’re actually sorry and then throw one of your obnoxious comments at me. Well, I know better. I know how you are. There is nothing in the world that you can pull and expect me to fall into.”

“Well if you feel that way, then I will leave you. I will leave you alone for the rest of the year. You won’t hear from me ever again.”

To your surprise, he walks away from you. Fulfilling his promise. You’re relieved, yet, there is something that keeps poking at you. What if he really wanted to apologize? What if this wasn’t one of his jokes? Was the insufferable Tom Riddle actually being sincere for once? Though you fought against it, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Wait!” You call out before he exits the section you were in. He turns on his heel and faces you once more. A giant smile plastered on his face, though this time it didn’t feel obnoxious. It felt like a genuine smile. “What’s the apology?”

“Well,” Tom starts. “first I understand that my actions haven’t been of Head Boy status. I have been given you a rather hard time, haven’t I?”

“You could say that.”

“Well, my apologies. My intentions were not in the right place. I see that now.”

You wait for it. You wait for the big reveal of the joke, but it never comes. Instead you see Tom staring back at you with piercing dark brown eyes. Eyes that make your heart skip a beat whenever you make eye contact with him. You clear your throat and glance away from him.

“Apology accepted.” You say casually. “Now if you excuse me, I should be heading back to my dorm.”

A grip on your wrist stops you dead on your tracks. Your face heats up instantly as you turn to face Tom once more. You shake your arm away from his grip, reluctantly.

“I would also like to make a proposition.” He suggests.

“Which is?”

“I can tutor you. If you’d like. I’ve noticed, and I mean this with as much respect as possible, that you struggle in potions. I seem to have a nick for it so perhaps I can help you out.”

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch.”

You scoff. “So you’re doing this out of the kindness of your heart?” You ask suspiciously.

“Indeed.”

“Hm.” You think about it for a moment. Getting tutored by Tom Riddle? Sounds like absolute hell. But you do need help in potions. More help than you’d like to admit. Especially since Slughorn holds you to the same standard as Tom. A standard that you may never reach without his help. “Alright, I’ll bite. When and where?”

“Same spot and time as today.”

“Deal. You’ve got yourself a date, Riddle.”

“Date, huh?”

You mentally facepalm at your slip of words. “I- I meant study date.” You correct yourself.

Tom silently laughs. “Well a study date makes more sense. Though if you were to ask me on a date, I wouldn’t say no. Just let me know ahead of time so I can dress accordingly.”

With that last sentence, he is off, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Your face is painted scarlet as you sink against the bookshelf. You couldn’t believe yourself. How could you let yourself do this? It was time to face the obvious, however. No way around it: You were falling for Tom Riddle.

[anxiouslyfred]

Painted Diving Gear

Summary: Remus is a diver and teaches it to tourists so of course occasionally some of the gear gets lost. That why his soulmate, genius that they must be, has learnt how to return the gear, designs painted onto the edge to claim it before losing them once more.

/\/\

The was a familiar oxygen tank sat in the middle of Remus's flat that morning.

Honestly it wouldn't be anything worth commenting on usually, except this particular tank had been lost a month prior, left behind on a hired van by accident. The company had claimed they couldn't locate it to return the item and from the painting on its edge that made a lot more sense now.

His soulmate must have received the gas tank at some point between him realising it was missing and contacting the company. Remus had been ecstatic the first time something he lost turned up back in his flat, just with a painting added onto the edge. It seemed the artwork was enough to swap ownership between them so far as whatever the magic moving objects between soulmates was concerned.

He didn't have much time to delay though, only just having gotten up in time to head to work. The tank was easily thrown into his trunk to take in with him and some ready roll icing was grabbed to eat as breakfast on the way in. Remus might not care for having breakfast but knew better than to dive with no energy, especially in the middle of the summer vacation period.

The Diving company was already open when he arrived, another of the team having opened up and started taking bookings for the day. The oxygen tank got a raised eyebrow when Remus brought it in.

“That soulmate of yours probably gets worried sick every time you loose one of those.” Janus offered but waved to the edge of the room.

They'd made something of a display of the equipment since it started coming back. Neither of them were sure what type of paint was used on the equipment or whether it was safe to be used in the oceans or not so erred on the side of caution. The last thing Remus wanted to do was accidentally harm the creatures and corals he dived down to see and show to tourists in small groups so unfortunately the scuba gear that got painted on and returned was just left to one side for the moment.

So far they had 4 oxygen tanks, various scuba masks and a few pairs of flippers all painted by whomever Remus's soulmate might be. The designs had started off as somewhat plain, simple swirls and patterns done over the front of them. Gradually, with each item returned the images grew more complex, from featuring ocean life, to spiders, until today's intricate design. The was an octopus wrapped around a pile of knives, most of which Remus could recognise as ones he'd lost throughout his life. It was almost as though his soulmate was attempting to paint an image of who they thought he was, and that idea thrilled him.

All Remus could tell about his soulmate was that they were a freaking genius who figured out how to return lost items when nobody was known to have managed that ever before.

“Nah, they don't. They wouldn't try returning to someone they think could have died losing an item.” Remus brushed the comment away, making sure the latest one was stood clear to see for any customers that walked in.

Janus was finally able to properly see the painting now it was down, smirking at the image. “And it seems like they even have a collection of knives to challenge your own. Must be a perfect match.”

“Once again wrong. That's my collection of knives. They just get to look after it for a while and it's even better than some of those rusting at the bottom of the ocean too.” Remus corrected, snatching their bookings diary from the counter to check if they'd be taking walk in customers today or if something particular needed setting up on the boat.

“Of course you lose more knives than you manage to keep, how could I be so misguided?” The sarcasm rolled thickly through the reply. “Does that mean they presume you are an octopus rather than a human then?”

Remus cackled, thrilled at the suggestion. “I wish I was. Those lovely babies are so brilliant, shame today's a boring day so I probably won't get to see any.”

“You never know, the next walk in could be an avid diver needing to rent equipment and get shown the most interesting places to dive.” Janus suggested, a wobble of his head betraying how outlandish he thought the idea was.

Remus just snickered, heading through to where the boat was moored so he could check everything was prepped for use.

The walk-in customer they did have unfortunately wasn't an avid diver when Janus called him back through to the shop, but a tourist hoping to learn something about diving because of something to do with their soulmate. The reason had come out in a mumble just as Remus got through so he didn't quite catch it.

“I can do that. There's some shallows in a quiet cove just around the coast I can teach you in. Come through and I'll get you set up with the gear in your size before we head out.” Remus had already walked through into the other room, expecting the man to finish staring at their displays and follow.

A few minutes later he was still alone and Janus poked his head through the door. “Your display of returned items seems to have broken our customer. Come and fix it!” With the order given he'd returned back to the counter.

Once Remus was back in the front of the shop the man was still gaping at the items, reaching out to follow the lines of the knives on the one brought in today. “Yeah, that's some pretty awesome artwork. My soulmate does it so they can return them to me, but since I don't know what paint was used we've been avoiding using them where possible.” He commented, resting his head on top of the customers trying to get their attention.

“I'd be a fucking idiot if I figured out how to return them and didn't also do research on what paints are used on diving equipment, or can remain in tact under the pressure and salt water of the ocean.” Came a snapped back reply. “Are you seriously trying to tell me that the first time I try to learn something about my soulmate I end up in your freaking shop?”

Remus stepped back just enough the guy could turn around, tilting his head. “Well if you're the one who painted them, I guess I am. Let's get you some permanent gear so I can properly teach you how to dive over the rest of the week, or however long you're in the area.”

“Well if this gets mentioned to the friends that dragged me on this holiday that might just be permanently. What's your name anyway, or should I just call you Knifapus?” The man asked, looking Remus up and down.

There was a snicker from the counter but Remus ignored it, shimmying a little. “You can call me anything you like, Spidat, but my name is Remus.” A number of the items his soulmate had actually lost had spiders and bats on them and most were dark despite the fluffy nature a lot of them shared; the nickname had come from a year where any words Remus could combine would be mixed.

“Let's stick with Virgil or something that uses real words, shall we? Are you serious about getting me permanent diving gear, cause I don't think I can afford that?” Virgil corrected, glancing over at one of the displays of the gear they had for sale.

“Soulmate privileges.” Janus called over. “It can come out of the company funds, but only if you actually are going to use it for more than a couple of days.”

There had never been a policy like that in the company before and Janus had actually insisted to his soulmate he couldn't give them a discount for the gear just to enable them dragging him out on the sea. Remus wasn't going to argue though. Diving had always been a way for him to share his darker thoughts without people giving him concerned looks, but it had been Janus's escape to isolate and calm down for years.

“And here, I was just hoping one of those soulmate privileges would be getting to use the equipment I so painstakingly returned.” Virgil's whine was exaggerated, but the twist of his lips and quirked eyebrows showed how entertained he was by the idea. “Honestly though, I have no clue if I'm going to join you diving much. Isn't it terrifying to get that deep underwater with no way to breathe if the oxygen tank comes loose or something?”

“I taunt death daily and he's yet to do more than wave while clearing up the devastation humanity is sending to the oceans.” Remus insisted, excited to share the experience.

Virgil groaned. “Damnit, am I going to have to play, 'Let's not die today' with you too? It's bad enough with friends running into busy roads because there's a dog on the other side.”

“You're the one that came looking for him, otherwise I'd sympathise.” Janus snickered.

“Let's try a small dive today and see if you could work up to coming on the deeper dives in a few years time.” Remus compromised, still bouncing between his feet and reaching forwards to tug on Virgil's arm.

“That we can do, I guess.”

[andrewmoocow]

Steven Universe Alternate Future chapter 22: Pumpkin Patch (originally published on August 9, 2021)

AN: At long last, the homestretch of Part 3, which I have already dubbed the Tearjerking Three last time. And for our first entry into this trilogy, we finally get an update on the relationship between Peridot and Lapis, which I found to be done so dirty in Future as a Lapidot shipper. I mean, they didn't even interact with each other even when they were in the same episode together! Plus, Pumpkin just disappeared into thin air once the movie came along, leaving the only hint of where she is now are those similar gourd puppies from The Future. But enough griping, let's get my personal answer on what really happened, and maybe a big surprise that I no doubt have already spoiled on DeviantArt anyways.

Synopsis: Steven, Peridot and Lapis reminisce on the anniversary of Pumpkin's death.

Cast:

Zach Callison as Steven, Pumpkin

Shelby Rabara as Peridot, Squaridot

Jennifer Paz as Lapis, Laz, Zuli

Estelle as Garnet

Michaela Dietz as Amethyst, Ocean Jasper

Deedee Magno-Hall as Pearl

Uzo Aduba as Bismuth

Amy Sedaris as Teal Zircon

Jeff Bergman as Farmer

Featuring Billie Eilish as Turquoise

--

"Maybe I'll find myself smiling on that distant shore," Steven sang to himself while gazing at his watch as the oven timer counted down in front of him. "Maybe I'm not alone."

The timer beeped, notifying Steven that whatever he had in the oven was ready. After putting on some oven mitts and opening the oven, Steven pulled a pumpkin pie out and set it on the counter to cool. "This one is for you two, guys." He said before gazing at a nearby calendar that read June 7th. "I remember it like it was yesterday." Steven then began to reminisce on the aftermath of his visit to Homeworld.

--

A few weeks the Crystal Gems have successfully convinced the Diamonds to help them in healing the corrupted Gems on Earth, these Gems now needed somewhere to live. As far as Steven knew, there was no way they could expand the Temple to make room for all of them, and he's sure none of the newly healed Gems wanted to return to Homeworld, so the Crystal Gems decided that their only choice now was to build them their own little town. They had some basic ideas down, but all they needed now was a name.

"How about Peritropolis?!" Peridot suggested as she wrote down her choice of name on the whiteboard, with little sketches of her face surrounding the name for emphasis. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"How about something that won't stroke your ego?" Steven frowned at the idea.

"What about Barnstantinople?" Lapis proposed. "We are building it around where the barn used to be after all."

"Speaking of which, how's clean-up on that going?" Amethyst asked, looking out the window to gaze at the wreckage that was once Lapis and Peridot's barn house home. "I think some bits of it might be useful somehow."

"I say we put that on hold." Lapis stated. "That old barn caused just as much harm to Peridot and me as much as it did good."

"You serious about this?" Peridot asked her blue roommate. "I mean, we had so many good memories in there."

"Yeah, and a lot of those memories were you just bending over backwards trying to keep me happy." Lapis added. "I know you're still sad about me jumping ship and coming back with only a "Hey", but I still got things to work out, y'know."

"OK." Peridot said just as their pet Pumpkin opened the door. "Oh, hey Pumpkin!"

In contrast to Peridot being excited to see Pumpkin, the little canine fruit let out an exhausted bark before sitting down to nap, revealing wrinkles around her eyeholes.

"Hey, is your little buddy there doin' alright?" Bismuth asked. "I barely know a thing about the lifespan of organic creatures, but even I know she ain't doing so hot."

"Oh, I'm sure she's just tired!" Peridot assured Bismuth. "Just needs to rest, that's all!"

"Don't be so sure Peridot." Garnet advised the little Gem. "Pumpkin was brought to life with magic, which means she's probably lived longer than a pumpkin normally does."

"Just let her be happy Garnet." Pearl whispered into Garnet's ear. "She's already been through so much recently, and I don't think she can take anymore."

"You sure she's OK Dottie?" Steven asked Peridot regarding Pumpkin. "Nothing lasts forever, you know."

"Oh, she just needs some extra time in the Sun!" Peridot laughed. But despite her insistence, that wasn't how the story really went.

--

"Okay, a little to the left!" Peridot commanded Squaridot as the eye Gem Peridot levitated a lifeguard chair around while Bismuth, Ocean Jasper & Teal Zircon dug up the ground to build a swimming pool. "No, your other left!" she corrected herself. "Wait wait, your other OTHER left!"

"There's no such thing as an other other left!" Squaridot yelled and grumpily set the chair down next to where she was standing. "How's this?"

"Perfect." Peridot gave her fellow technician a thumbs up before turning around to see the Lapis twins walk towards the construction site. "Oh, I see our lifeguards wanna start early!"

"Why was it necessary for us to dress in these?" Laz wondered while modeling the red one-piece she was wearing. "I don't think red is my color."

"I don't know about you Laz, but I make this look good!" Zuli declared while flaunting her body in a matching outfit. "We look just like the hotties on Coast Patrol or Destiny from CPH season 3! By the way, where's Lapis? She's head lifeguard, so shouldn't she be out here with us?"

"She still has the suit, but she's not coming out because today is a special day." Peridot stated. "It's the anniversary of a certain something."

"Hey, I think I can see Steven's car!" Ocean Jasper cried out as she peeked out of the hole to find Steven disembarking from his Dondai Supremo and walking over with the pumpkin pie in hand. "And he's got a pie, maybe as thanks for our hard work."

"Naw, I don't think it's for us Ocean." Bismuth said just as Steven walked over to Peridot. "I think we should leave them alone for a bit and get back to work."

"Aw, but I wanted a pie!" Teal Zircon complained.

"I see you got the pie." Peridot said to Steven while gazing at the pie in his hands. "In case you're wondering, we worked on a new meep morp last night dedicated to her."

"Okay, why don't you show me?" Steven offered.

"I'd be happy to." Peridot smiled before turning back to everyone at the in-progress pool. "Keep up the good work everyone, I'll just be taking the rest off!"

"Yeah, take some time for yourself, Peri." Bismuth replied while Squaridot used her burgeoning ferrokinesis to lift the blacksmith out of the pool. "Just don't get too teary-eyed and fill up the pool early."

"Yeah, we're planning on filling the pool for our opening ceremony!" Teal called while struggling to get out.

"And I'm just gonna catch some rays." Laz declared as she sat down on a lawn chair, pulled some sunglasses over her eyes, and began sunbathing. However, her moment of peace was cut off by Zuli loudly blowing into her whistle and laughing.

"So, who's the pie really for Bis?" Ocean Jasper asked as she climbed out the pool before helping Teal and the two sat down next to Bismuth.

"You two got a moment?" Bismuth asked, and the Jasper and Zircon nodded in affirmation. "Well, the pie is actually for a friend of theirs."

--

Steven and Peridot kept walking away from the pool and eventually found themselves in front of the Little Homeworld house that Lapis & Peridot shared. It looked like a smaller version of the barn the two Gems once lived in, but instead of being decorated with a mishmash of items around the barnyard, it now looked like Peridot did most of the construction with bits of metal and advanced technology sprinkled onto a simple-looking two-story cabin.

"Hey Lapis, we're here." Steven called out to Lapis as he and Peridot entered the cabin to find Lapis napping on the couch with a manga on her lap and a red one-piece hanging on a clothes hanger nearby. "Lapis, wake up."

"Agh, don't go with her Pierre!" Lapis yelled as she woke up from her nap and rubbed her eyes to find Peridot & Steven before her. "Sorry you guys, I was trying on my lifeguard uniform, but then I got bored and decided to relax a little."

"You still remember what day it is?" Peridot asked while Steven presented his pumpkin pie.

"Yeah, I still do." Lapis declared sadly. "Want to see the meep morp we've been working on, Steven?"

"Sure." Steven replied before the two Gems took him upstairs to their shared bedroom & workshop, where a very large sculpture of Pumpkin stood, a big smile permanently etched onto the front beneath a pair of innocent eyes. "Almost like the real thing. Except bigger."

"Showing this to you makes me miss her even more." Peridot began to hold back tears. "I still remember how I coped with it too."

--

The groundbreaking ceremony of what would soon become Little Homeworld went quite swimmingly for the Crystal Gems, thanks to the support of their Beach City friends and the Diamonds. But amidst the rejoicing of a new beginning for Gems on Earth, there was some bad news that flew right under everyone's noses.

After Peridot marked the giant pit where the barn once was with Little Homeworld's flag, Pumpkin came strolling up to her green owner looking far wearier and more decayed than she did previously, a sight which worried them greatly. As soon as the ceremonies ended, Pumpkin was rushed back to the beach house.

"Please Steven, you gotta do something!" Peridot begged Steven while Pumpkin laid before the trio with a heavy sigh emitting from her mouth. "Pumpkin doesn't have much time left, surely you must have the solution like you always do!"

"I'm really sorry Peridot." Steven said regretfully. "As much as I would love to help you and Lapis out, Pumpkin wasn't long for this Earth anyways. Death is a perfectly natural part of life. It can be real sad and scary to watch someone you treasured so dearly go, but ultimately, their time will come all the same."

"So, she was going to die regardless?" Lapis said apprehensively while stroking the living gourd's rotting body. "I don't really see how this is possible since you did bring her to life with your powers, but I can deal with it."

"Well, I'm not!" Peridot objected tearfully. "It's not fair! I've already been through so much, why does the universe have to keep nailing the hammer into the coffin?!"

"Peridot, I know you're upset, but you gotta listen." Steven tried comforting his little green pal. "Death is completely natural, even if it's scary. I mean, my dad might die someday, and so might Connie. I'm not sure if I can die like a human though."

"Well, your race is different." Peridot declared. "None of you will ever know what it's like to live forever!" With that, she stormed out of the beach house to vent, leaving her two friends to worry for Peridot.

"I don't think I want to know where this is going." Lapis muttered.

"If it's anything like what happened to Peridot after you left Earth, I don't think she'll take it very well." Steven agreed.

--

Using a trashcan lid, Peridot flew far away from the general area of Beach City and into the countryside, where farmlands were very prosperous. Farmlands like the ones she and Lapis tended to together in the past, and the ones where Pumpkin was born. The very sight of all these fresh crops made her more miserable. What gave them the right to grow so healthy while Pumpkin looked so withered?

"Rackum frackum produce, I'll show you what for!" Peridot mumbled as she touched down in front of a pumpkin patch and swiftly got to work on destroying them. "You walked so Pumpkin could die!" she yelled as her green body became covered in orange pumpkin insides. "Why can't anything go my way for once?!"

"Hey, get offa my crops ya gremlin!" a farmer yelled at Peridot while stomping over to her with a pitchfork in hand. "You got any idea what it's like to work so hard on a great harvest, only for it to be ruined by a bunch of punks?!"

"No, but I'm sure you don't know what it's like to love someone only to lose them!" Peridot argued with the farmer, a retort that stunned him a little before he tried to look more sympathetic.

"Coping, eh?" the farmer said. "Look, you have every right to get mad, but that don't mean you can just stomp all over someone else's hard work! You gotta find better ways to vent, ya know!"

"Look, sir, I literally just ran away from home, I don't have time right now." Peridot coldly rejected the farmer's advice.

"Well, looks like you left me no choice." The farmer shook his head before reaching behind his back and pulling out a scary mask to frighten Peridot with. "BOOGEDY BOOGEDY BOOGEDY!"

"AAAAAHHHHHH!" Peridot screamed loudly before flying away from the farm on her lid.

--

As soon as Peridot returned to Beach City, she soared right towards Steven's house, where she found him making a grilled cheese sandwich, and began pounding on his window.

"Steven! Steven!" Peridot yelled from outside, getting the half-Gem's attention. "Let me in, I wanna talk!"

"You know you can just come in yourself." Steven suggested before opening the door for his green friend. "How have things been going?"

"I got an idea for you." Peridot stated. "How about in exchange for helping me with Pumpkin, I'll do something for you in return. Just name your price, I'll do anything!"

"Peridot, are you trying to bribe me into saving Pumpkin?" Steven asked. "Didn't I tell you earlier that death is a natural part of life?"

"But you managed to save Lars from death with your crying!" Peridot objected. "Why can't you do the same to Pumpkin?! Why does she have to die while so many other pumpkins have to live?!"

"Pumpkins?" Steven asked. "What other pumpkins?"

"I vented my frustrations by whaling on some farmer's pumpkin harvest." Peridot confessed innocently. "He didn't take too kindly to that."

"I think I know where this is going." Steven realized. "Five Stages of Grief, right? First was anger, now you're bargaining. Which means depression might not be too far behind." Just then, as if on cue, Steven's phone started ringing with a message from Lapis that he readily picked up. "Hello?"

"Steven, is Peridot there?" Lapis asked from the other end of the line. "Ever since she fled the house, I took Pumpkin back to our place, and now she wants to see us both before, you know."

"See what I mean?" Steven declared to Peridot, who was now on the verge of breaking down because now, she finally realized it was too late. "Do you want to see her?"

"Yes please." Peridot began to sob and hugged Steven tight. "Promise me that you won't ever leave too, Steven."

"I promise." Steven stated, hugging Peridot back.

--

Meanwhile, at the massive construction site that would soon become Little Homeworld, Lapis gently watched over the slowly dying Pumpkin, whose normally bright orange skin now had splotches of grayish-black, as she let out a weak yip. "Don't die yet, sweetie." Lapis assured Pumpkin. "Peridot will be here soon, I know it."

And right on cue, Peridot and Steven soared right towards Lapis on the trash can lid to see Pumpkin off one last time. Peridot raced as fast as she could towards the groundwork for her and Lapis's new home and tightly nuzzled her pet gourd, unaware that it wasn't in the mood for such a tight hug.

"Peridot, let her go! She's in pain!" Lapis yelled while prying the sentient pumpkin from Peridot's embrace, much to the green Gem's agony.

"No, please!" Peridot cried. "Just let me hold her!"

"I'm sorry Peri, but I don't think she can take much more!" Lapis argued while on the brink of crying just as much. "Pumpkin's already dying. She's so scared right now, so let's just-"

"Don't try to argue Lapis." Steven solemnly interrupted Lapis. "Peridot's already having a breakdown as is."

"I'm sorry about that." Lapis quickly apologized before she turned to Pumpkin. "Pumpkin, if you can still hear me, I want you to know that you and Peridot were the only things keeping me sane here, even when I ran off to the moon." She said to the dying fruit. "I can't thank you enough for brightening my day with your cute little smile, your barking, and all the days we spent playing together. Even if we find a replacement, none can ever replace you, little guy."

"You want a turn, Peri?" Steven said to Peridot.

"Fine, but I won't like it." Peridot sniffed loudly as she walked up to Pumpkin. "You were like an offspring to us, Pumpkin." She said quietly. "When I first saw your little carved face, those adorable stubby legs, it filled my heart with so much joy. Figuratively, of course, since we naturally don't have hearts. But every step we took together, every struggle, kept me grounded here on this crazy planet. Oh stars, now I won't know what to do now."

"Mah, mah," Pumpkin barked weakly with her last breath. "Mommy."

"I promise you," Peridot declared while her gem touched Pumpkin's forehead. "I'll never forget."

And with that, Pumpkin gently shut her eyes, allowing herself to pass on with her mothers and her creator by her side.

--

The funeral that followed was a private affair, with only the other Crystal Gems, Connie and Greg in attendance, and Pumpkin buried outside Peridot & Lapis's house. However, it was after the funeral when trouble began brewing. Just like when she had first begun living with the Gems, Peridot began hiding away in the bathroom for the next week to grieve the demise of Pumpkin and seemed resilient in refusing to come out, no matter how much they tried.

"C'mon P-Dot, open up!" Amethyst called while pounding on the door. "If you're planning on flushing yourself down the toilet again, let me tell you again, I tried that once and it didn't work."

"I think I know what to do." Greg proposed his idea and held up a boombox that began playing a song he knew she would recognize. "I look up to the sky, that's full of stars-"

"I'm trying to mourn here, leave me alone." Peridot despondently declared.

"I say we should respect her wishes." Garnet stated before she turned her gaze to Lapis. "Unless…."

"You think I should go in there?" Lapis asked.

"You are quite possibly Peridot's closest friend." Pearl agreed with Garnet.

"Closest friend?" Bismuth raised an eyebrow. "C'mon, we all know there may be something more than that!"

"Well, okay then." Lapis finally accepted with a shrug and slowly pushed the door open. "Wish me luck." She then said before entering the bathroom and closing it behind her. "You still in here?"

"So, they sent you in now." Peridot observed hoarsely. "I may have lost all hope, but I can still hear you know."

"They do say we're the closest." Lapis said before she sat down on the edge of the tub where Peridot had hidden herself away beneath a cocoon of Steven's bedsheets. "Come on now, get up and sit next to me."

"Okay, if it's you, I'll talk." Peridot succumbed to Lapis's offer and rose from her comfy shell to talk with her barn mate. "I'm sorry for worrying you all this past week, it's just that Pumpkin was basically our baby! Watching her die was like watching a child die!"

"Except the child wasn't human, it was a magical living pumpkin." Lapis remarked, which caused Peridot to glare at her. "No offense."

"But still, outside of our relationship, why did you volunteer?" Peridot wondered.

"Well, because I wanted to return the favor." Lapis answered. "Remember what happened after that boat trip I took with Steven and his dad?"

--

As soon as Lapis dropped Steven and Greg off at the docks following the boat trip gone wrong, she needed someone to lean on in her time of need. It didn't matter who, it could be any of the other Crystal Gems, or one of Steven's human friends. But right now, there was only one person, or rather Gem, that she could turn to.

Lapis could now see the barn in the distance, and as reluctant as she was to admit it, Peridot was the only one who could understand her regarding a certain Quartz. "Peridot, are you there?" she called for her green housemate. "I'm back!"

"Lapis, so glad you could make it!" Peridot exclaimed while racing out of the barn. "I discovered that I can move spoons with my mind, I made some decent progress on my Camp Pining Hearts essay; though I'm still stuck on the poutine theory, and-" However, she realized a bit too late what Lapis was feeling. "Is something the matter?"

"Steven and I found Jasper during the trip." Lapis said morosely. "She wanted to fuse with me again because she says I changed her. And to be honest, I think it was kind of my fault. Unfusing with Jasper drove her mad and I even said I missed taking all my frustrations out on her!"

"Lapis, are you serious?" Peridot gasped in alarm.

"Yes, I'm serious." Lapis declared as her eyes darkened and she turned away from Peridot. "Go ahead, run off and live with the Gems again so you don't have to be another one of my victims. If Jasper says I'm a monster, then I guess I really am one, especially after the way I treated you when we first moved in together."

"Okay Lapis, I don't want your garbage right now!" Peridot yelled, briefly breaking Lapis out of her funk with the almost exact words she described the tape recorder she broke. "I can see you're very stressed out. You want to scream so bad, to hit something, to let your anger out! But whatever you do, don't lose it on other people."

"Wh-what are you saying?" Lapis asked.

"I'm mostly just repeating stuff I read online," Peridot admitted. "I think what you need is a way to vent healthily, maybe on a perfectly defenseless object."

"Like what?" Lapis raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

"One second!" Peridot exclaimed while walking into the barn and coming back out with an alien plush wearing a top hat and bowtie that she gazed at with a solemn expression. "I'm so sorry my sweet." She said softly to the stuffed toy before presenting it to Lapis. "Go ahead, hit it as hard as you can. Or maybe something else violent, whatever."

"Okay." Lapis sighed as she began feeling around the toy for something to do before grabbing at the bowtie and ripping it off the alien's neck, causing some stuffing to spill out of the hole she created. "Whoa."

"So, how did that make you feel?" Peridot asked as the alien dropped from her grip.

"Good." Lapis muttered in awe of what she just did. "I feel so much lighter now, like a real adrenaline burst."

"See, as I told you." Peridot smiled happily. "You just needed healthier ways to relieve stress."

"You're right." Lapis agreed when she got an idea. "Now, how about I try something a little heavier?" She then glanced over to a nearby pickup truck and used the water from Peridot's makeshift pool to lift it into the air. "How about this?"

"Yeah, I think that could work." Peridot nervously replied before Lapis suddenly tossed the truck into the air. "NO WAIT, THAT'S A LITTLE TOO-" she screamed and covered herself to avoid getting hit, but the truck instead crashed into the wall over the barn entrance, creating a massive hole that the vehicle filled. "Hm, guess I was wrong."

"Well, if we're gonna be living here together, why don't we make ourselves at home?" Lapis laughed and put a hand on Peridot's shoulder.

"Yeah, I think this is a good start." Peridot agreed while wrapping her arm around the taller Gem's waist and the two began brainstorming ideas for remodeling the barn.

--

"Yeah, I really was there for you back then." Peridot realized with a grin. "And from then on out, we were so close."

"You bet." Lapis replied and cupped Peridot's face in her hands. "Let me be a shoulder for you to cry on this time. I love you Peridot."

"I love you too Lapis." Peridot responded happily before the two began to kiss, and their gems started glowing as they began to fuse into a tall, slender Gem with turquoise hair, dark cyan hair in the shape of a maple leaf, Peridot's glasses, Lapis's top with a bright yellow star on it, a skirt with a bronze ribbon around her waist and dark teal sandals with bronze accents.

The new, accidental fusion of Peridot and Lapis looked around the bathroom and gazed down at her four hands. Feeling around her body, she felts the gems of her components on her forehead and back before coming to a shocking realization and let out a loud, confused scream. "AAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

"Is something wrong?!" Steven exclaimed as he barged into the bathroom to discover the fusion before him and started screaming as well, but this time in joy. "AAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

"AAAAAHHHHHHHH!" the new fusion continued screaming and covered her face in alarm at Steven as the two continued shrieking at each other.

--

"But was that fusion really an accident or maybe something more?" Peridot asked while she, Steven, and Lapis walked outside to her and Lapis's garden in their backyard.

"Maybe a mix of both?" Lapis answered with a shrug. "I mean, we did kiss each other after saying "I love you" to each other, but the fusion part came out of nowhere."

"Still, we were all so happy to see you two fuse at last." Steven said. "Words could not describe how long I've been waiting for that moment."

"I couldn't shapeshift, so I just assumed I couldn't fuse as well." Peridot observed before they happened upon a makeshift tombstone that read 'In memory of Pumpkin. A good girl to the end.' "You know, all this talk reminds me of a song I've been writing for the past few days. It may seem a little short and I pulled from other sources, but it's the best I got."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Lapis suggested eagerly. "Sing for us."

"Yeah, we never heard you do a solo before either." Steven agreed with the ocean Gem.

"Okay, if you insist." Peridot declared before she cued a nearby Robonoid tending to the garden to start playing jazzy music, and she started to sing. "My sweet little pumpkin o' mine, a living gourd with a smile so fine. You made us smile with your bark, your stem's like emerald, and filled with seeds of gold. You were our most beloved work of art."

Almost as if Pumpkin was coming back to listen to Peridot's eulogy, many similar living produce like additional pumpkins, some gourds, and squashes, began coming out to watch. "You saw fields of corn, sandy beaches too. In summers so warm, it was just us and you." Peridot continued singing. "And I think to myself, what a wonderful pet."

Soon, Lapis began to join in on the song as well. "Though your time was short, like all things are." She joined Peridot in singing with her own solo. "We'll always think of you, when we look at your star."

"Our sweet little pumpkin of ours," the pair finished the song and embraced each other. "You were a wonderful pet."

With that, the two Gems fused into Turquoise, this time on purpose while surrounded by living Cucurbita, and smiled.

"Thank you for coming today, Steven." Turquoise said to Steven. "It really means a lot to us."

"Nothing to it girls." Steven smiled while rubbing his finger on his upper lip.

In Memory of Thea "Muriel Bagge" White

June 16, 1940 – July 30, 2021

"What courage you have."

--

So ends the first installment of the Tearjerking Three. In comparison to what will come next, I'm pretty sure this will be tears of happiness at these two dorky barnmates basically becoming an item at last and even fusing too (also, I totally took Turquoise's design from @artifiziell, she makes some amazing stuff, go check her out). But next time, we move on from someone being dead for real to someone being dead to Steven. Can you guess which one? Oh who am I kidding, if you watch me on DeviantArt, I basically spoiled everything after this.

[magicalforcesau]

Fragments of the Garden - Origins - Part 3

A companion collection to Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden

(ao3 link)

Satine started to sit next to Obi-Wan every time she saw him at breakfast. Usually they would break out into an argument five minutes in, but even still he started showing up for breakfast more, and Satine always came back the next day.

It was Cody that had suggested they go find him at lunch hour and Satine had agreed easily, because she definitely noticed despite his appearances at breakfast, lunch and dinner were still another story entirely.

That was how she found herself, carrying two plates of food and following Cody with his plate down the hall to that empty classroom.

“Is this seat taken?” Cody asked shoving a couple of the desks together, surprising Obi-Wan completely.

“I- No?” He answered automatically.

“Good,” Satine responded, “It was a long walk here and I’m hungry,” She set down her plate in front of her and Obi-Wan’s plate in front of him. Cody was already digging into his food and he struck up a conversation with Satine quickly about their Charms homework. Obi-Wan was a little too dumbstruck to join the conversation, but did listen to them talk as he ate the food they’d brought him.

The end of the lunch period drew near and Cody collected Satine’s plate.

“Do you not like desserts or something?” Satine asked, noting the slice of apple pie sitting untouched on Obi-Wan’s plate. Being asked a direct question he responded with a surprised blush.

“It’s not that I don’t like them,” He admitted, “My mother says I can’t have any.”

“What? Why not?” Cody asked, surprised. Satine however remembered the women’s icy gaze and stayed quiet.

“She says men don’t like sweets,” He averted his gaze which was very unlike him.

“Well she’s not here right now,” Cody announced, “And what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her!”

“Cody’s right,” Satine found herself saying, “Plus he likes dessert so clearly her logic is false,” Obi-Wan opened his mouth, probably to argue when they heard the clamber of students heading their way. They grabbed their bags and Cody grabbed their plates and they headed out.

Satine decided that tomorrow she’d bring him 2 desserts.

***                                            

That night was their first Astronomy lesson. They were supposed to start much, much earlier, but the headmaster had, had a little trouble replacing their professor after the last one had been in some sort of accident. Satine couldn’t get anyone to specify past that, but she suddenly missed not having class when she was rolling out of bed at eleven to head towards the astronomy tower. The first years all went together, and she found herself walking next to Obi-Wan.

“Are you okay Satine?” He had the misfortune to ask, she glared at him, looking absolutely perfect as always.

“Make a note,” She told him, “to never wake me up, unless it’s an emergency,” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure when that would ever be useful information to have, but he stored it away anyways, with a nod.

They all sat on the floor of the tower as the oldest wizard Satine had ever seen, made his way slowly to the front of the class. He was holding a piece of parchment in shaky hands and squinted through his glasses to read it.

“Hello class,” He spoke in a raspy voice and Satine had to wonder if this poor man would even make it through the year, “I’m going to take attendance, please raise your hand when I call your name,” and with that class started.

Satine let her focus wander until he got to the J’s and tuned in right when Kenobi would be called.

“Kenobi,” The professor squinted at the paper, clearly struggling with Obi-Wan’s stupidly wordy first name, “B-Ben?” He decided on. Obi-Wan, who’s ears had gone red, raised his hand.

“It’s Obi-Wan, sir, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” He corrected, Satine could hear the embarrassment seep into his voice and she slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from snickering.

“Oh, sorry my dear boy,” He moved on quite quickly to, “Kryze, Satine.”

“I’m here,” She raised her hand, laughter coating her voice, and Obi-Wan gave her a sideways glare, but perhaps it had been worth waking up so late anyways.

***                                            

“Good Afternoon, Ben,” Satine greeted him, plunking down his lunch in front of him (two desserts as she’d decided) and sliding a desk over for herself, while Cody did the same.

“Ben?” Cody questioned, and Obi-Wan just rested his head on his arms with a groan.

“Don’t you dare tell,” His voice was muffled, so Satine elected to ignore him.

“The new astronomy teacher messed up his name during attendance,” Satine said gleefully.

“She won’t let it go,” He raised his head back up with a red-faced glare.

“Obi-Wan and Ben don’t even look alike,” Cody noted with a confused smile.

“I’m well aware,” Obi-Wan told him.

“Anyways, Ben,” Satine attempted a straight face, “I went to the trouble of picking you out two desserts today and it would be rather rude of you to not eat them.”

***                                            

Satine was struggling with a rather long and tedious history essay. She supposed Ben was too, because he’d hidden himself behind a textbook and she hadn’t seen him come up for air in hours.

“I’m never going to get this done,” She sat back against the plush blue couch with a sigh, breaking the silence she’d been dying to break for at least 30 minutes now.

“What part are you stuck on?” He asked without even putting the book down.

“I have all the information, I think,” She mused, “But I’m struggling with how to format it,” At that Ben did lower the book.

“Do you want me to look it over for you?” He asked and she shook her head.

“I was thinking of taking it to my mentor actually,” Satine admitted. Ben seemed to freeze at the mention of a mentor, but didn’t make any move to go back to his reading.

“That would be a good idea,” He agreed slowly, “They’ve probably written the same paper,” She could tell Ben was now attempting to hide behind his book to finish the conversation, they’d been friends for around a month and he just kept getting easier and easier to read. She grabbed the spine of his book and pushed it down.

“I’ve never asked you,” Satine thought out loud, “Who’s your mentor?” Ben froze again and she could see he was trying very hard not to avert his eyes, “I’ve never seen you with anyone else in the common room? Are they from a different house?”

“No they’re a Ravenclaw,” Ben started slowly, “They’re just much older than you’d expect,” Satine furrowed her brow at him and he continued knowing the answer would be pulled from him one way or another, “You know our fifth years aren’t a very big class,” He tried before trying again, “You know Qui-Gon right?”

“Professor Qui-Gon is your mentor?” Satine asked incredulously, Obi-Wan then did avert his eyes.

“Well like I said, year five isn’t a very big class, and people probably saw ‘Kenobi’ and decided to choose someone else,” He trailed off, “It’s not so bad I like Professor Jinn,” Satine shoved the book out of his hands and wrapped her arms around him suddenly. It was only for a moment before she pulled back.

“I’m sorry, Ben,” She told him.

“I- Well, yes,” Ben seemed a little dazed, but Satine thought not much of it, and instead went about gathering her papers together.

“I’ve got to run if I want to catch the fifth years when they get out of class,” She told him standing up, “I’ll be back later though, if you want me to look over yours,” He nodded, gathering his book off the floor.

“Alright, thank you Satine.”

***                                            

The snow was falling outside the window as the train pulled out of the station, Ben was staring out the window, brooding, and had been for some time. Satine had originally elected to ignore it in favor of chatting happily with Cody about their Christmas plans, but as time wore on, she couldn’t take it any longer.

“What are you planning on doing for the holidays Ben?” Once the words were out of her mouth, she saw Cody wince and had a sudden need to backtrack and delete the last second of her life.

“Oh, the holidays?” Ben contemplated, stretching his hands over his head and readjusting to actually look at his friends, “My parents will be throwing their annual Christmas Party. I suppose I will be hosting,” Satine remembered then, Cody’s mention of the Kenobi’s parties and she suddenly realized that going home for Ben, may not be the joyful celebration it was for her and Cody.

“You should write to us!” Satine demanded, “I don’t know what I’ll do all break if I don’t have someone to argue with,” She exclaimed dramatically. Cody rolled his eyes, but looked at Ben and nodded.

“I could use a distraction from my little brothers, I’d gladly welcome a reason to hole up in my room,” He grinned.

“My owl could use the exercise,” Ben joked, but then added, “If I can find a way, I’ll send you an owl.”

The trolley came by then and Ben bought each of them a sweet for the ride home. Satine contemplated, as she watched his eyes light up upon discovering his chocolate frog card, that she really didn’t know a lot about him. She vowed that come next semester she would start to learn even more, but until then she was just happy to be on a warm train sharing sweets and laughter with her two closest friends.

[abluescarfonwaston]

Shapeshifter AU- 15

Masterpost

“Sooooooooooo.” He drew out the word in the hopes that by the end of it he’d have a conversation.

“I didn’t ask you to come.” Lambert snapped at him.

“I know. But fishing is way more fun than stone repair. Besides I haven’t gone swimming in a while and it’s starting to eat at me.”

“It’s the middle of fucking winter.” They both pulled their jackets a little tighter around them.

“Some of my forms are insulated enough that its not actually a problem thankfully.”

“Which one’s the best? That way I know which one to skin you for.”

“You didn’t skin me that first night, you’re not going to skin me now. Especially since I’m the warmest person in the keep.”

“Right now you look colder than me.”

That was true. He was cold. That dragon form ate through his – well Ciri’s- magic like a pack of starving witchers. He wasn’t sure that he felt colder than he did before but it certainly seemed like it.

“How much further to the damn lake?”

“She’s getting close.”

Ciri was ahead of them. Well out of hearing range for him and probably her but not Lambert. He suspected at least. But he could still hear the melody of her song. Cautious. Eager. Excited.

The snow crunched under their feet and he finally thought of a conversation. “I haven’t actually met that many other witchers.” Lambert snorted. “Is your friend from a different school or did they just not want to come back for winter?”

Lambert stopped and growled at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He took a step back. Lambert took a step forward.

“The night you arrived? When you almost skinned me? You remember that right?”

He’d been camped outside Ciri’s door. She was having nightmares. He could hear it in her song. But they said he was being overprotective- Overbearing even- going to her every time she had a nightmare. So he was camped outside her door. Her white wolf ready to wake her if they became intense enough she’d bring the keep down around them.

Then Lambert had arrived.

Covered in snow from the dangerous trek up the path and exhausted and swinging.

“The fuck did a wolf get in here!”

He shifted out of the way of the blade at the last moment before jumping into human. “Geralt’s bard! I’m Geralt’s bard! Please don’t kill me!”

His stance eased but he didn’t put the sword away.

“That’s not Geralt’s room.”

“No- no you’re right. That’s Ciri’s room. His- Geralt’s child of surprise.”

“Oh I bet Eskel loved that.” He slowly eased the sword back into its sheath. “And you’re sleeping outside it because?” He didn’t let go of the blade.

“She has nightmares.” And he didn’t want her to bring the keep down around them if they got out of hand. “Why would Eskel have a problem with it?”

“That’s weird. None of your fucking business shifter.” He stalked off. The scent of him still tickling at his nose.

A smell that had changed the next time he’d smelled Lambert.

“You smelled different. Like another Witcher. Which I thought was just you but you don’t smell like that normally and not for nothing but you witchers all have a rather distinctive smell.” Like death and destiny. Heartache and heroics. Also onion. It was rather distinctive. “So I didn’t think your friend was human.”

Lambert shoved him into a tree. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

He blinked. “Alright then?”

“Don’t fucking mention him again shifter. Got it?”

“So it’s a him!” He chirped. “Promise not to mention him ever again!”

Lambert shoved him. Turned sharply and stalked off.

“So he’s not a wolf witcher then?”

“What did I just fucking say.”

“How’d you met? Was it on a hunt? Do you work together? They say two can live as cheaply as one which I haven’t found to be entirely true but that might just be since Geralt can’t live off bird seed so.”

A knife was pressed to his throat. “Don’t. Fucking. Mention him again.”

“Alright. I just thought you might want to talk about your friend.”

“I don’t.”

“I’d just be very sad if I couldn’t talk about Geralt all winter. So I thought-“

“You thought wrong.”

“Okay.” Lambert eased off and with one more glare hurried toward the lake.

He followed quick at his heels. Lambert shoved his hands deeper into his pockets.

“His name’s Aiden.”

“A lovely name.”

“Fuck off.”

“Lambert the lake’s frozen!” She called out when they arrived. “I thought we were fishing!”

“We are.” He passed her a bomb and lit it. “Better throw that quick.”

She did and he pulled her behind him as Lambert shielded them with quen when the ice shattered.

“Well that’s certainly quicker than drilling a hole.”

He grinned. “I think so.”

They huddled next to the hole. Lambert directing Ciri how to set the bait.

He stared at the water. His skin itched.

He dove in.

Above he heard them yelling mutedly. He swan through the water. A fish darted past him.

He chased it.

Chased it up and up and up and-

Right past the hole.

He popped his head out. Chirping his annoyance.

They stared at him blankly. He grabbed the net and pulled it into the water. Lambert grabbed the handle before it slipped under, cursing his confusion.

He dipped back under. Chasing a fish right into the net.

After a few attempts of course.

“That works.” Lambert said pulling the squirming fish out of the water.

He chirped his approval and caught them a few more.

Then he got bored.

He dredged the bottom of the pond, carefully avoiding the sharps that occasionally lined the muck.

And then he found it.

The perfect stone.

He pulled it from the muck. Speared his way from the depths. Scampered onto the shore.

Held it up for their inspection as he chittered its praise to them. Explaining exactly what made this stone perfect.

It’s the smoothness you see. And the color. The color and the shape and the size. Yes see this is the perfect stone. You must agree. I mean. Look at it!

They both stared at him. Heads cocked.

“Do. You want us to throw it?” Lambert asked. Face scrunched in uncertainty. “Geralt mentioned throwing sticks. Is that like this?”

He held it closer to his chest. NO. HOW DARE YOU EVEN SUGGEST SUCH A THING. THROW MY PERFECT STONE! HOW DARE YOU!

He raised his hands in surrender.

“It’s? Very nice?” Ciri suggested.

He nodded. Turned it over in his paws. It was very nice. The shape the color the-

A small patch had dried and it was. Rather less impressive.

He set it down and dove back in.

This next one. This one was actually perfect. Yes. This one was.

But the shape was.

He dove back in.

Again.

Again.                      

Again.

Ag- “Jaskier we should head back soon.”

Her hand stopped him from jumping back in. He looked up at her. Her cloak had a light dusting of snow. When had it started snowing?

Couldn’t let the pup get cold. He stepped away and shook dry as Lambert readied their haul for transport.

“Are you going to carry all those back?” He asked, motioning to the. Well rather sizeable pile of stones.

He shifted. Pulling the cloak tighter around him as the leftover moisture froze against his skin. “No I suppose not. Sometimes my instincts just get the better of me.”

“Otters collect rocks?” Lambert cast the stones a disparaging look.

“No. Its. It’s about finding the perfect clam breaking stone. Not. Not that I have any real idea what that would look like.”

His teeth were starting to chatter. Probably not a good idea to stay in this form much longer.

“You’re just trying to find the perfect stone?”

“More or less.” He agreed with her.

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Felt,” Feels. He internally corrected. “Important.”

She frowned before digging through the pile herself. Selecting one.

“Here!” She dropped it in his hand. “The perfect stone!”

He looked at it. The small oblong shape of it. The mottle in its color. The way it fit in his hand.

“You’re right. It’s perfect.”

 He paced the length of Geralt’s room. Flipping the stone in his hand. Waiting.

He didn’t know why he was waiting. He’d taken Ciri to bed. Left the witchers to their family time. Because he was tired after nearly freezing on the trip back from the lake.

Yennefer had agreed to come. She’d be here soon.

The thought didn’t fill him with dread.

He paced the length of the room. Flipping the stone in his hand. Waiting.

He really wasn’t quite sure what he was doing. What he planned on accomplishing. What instinct he was feeding.

He went over to the mirror. Pulled off the cap.

It was filling out quicker than he’d expected. It still wasn’t good. But the sheered sections seemed to have grown quicker while Ciri’s magic had warmed his chest.

His ears were cold though so he put it back on. Adjusted it until it looked perfect.

And then after too long had to give up and settle for nice.

He paced the length of their room. Flipping the stone in his hand. Waiting.

The fire was lit. The bed was made. He straightened the pillows anyway. Then he felt very silly because he’d never much cared for made beds. Preferred them ruffled and nested and smelling like them.

Which this bed did. Unlike all the beds at the inns. This one was theirs. Smelled like theirs. When he was in a form that could actually distinguish such things anyway.

The perfect stone. He didn’t know why that was so important. Why he’d scoured the lake looking for one. Why even hours later that instinct still rooted itself so firmly in his mind.

Yennefer was coming. He really didn’t think it would be a problem.

But his mate had loved her once. Or. Or something. She’d been something to him once.

Which was fine. She’d been something to him too. He didn’t know what she was now.

She probably didn’t either.

He looked at the perfectly made bed and hated it. Jumped on it. Shoving pillows and blankets and furs every which way.

“Jaskier?” He shoved the blankets around. It wasn’t right. Something about it wasn’t right. “Jaskier.”

He looked up to Geralt’s face. Grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bed.

That was better.

He rearranged the bed.

“One of my instincts is going haywire and I don’t know why. Just. Indulged me?”

Geralt took a pillow and laid down on his side. Watching him. “Lambert said you pulled up half the lake today.”

“It felt important.” He readjusted one of the blankets. Fixing a wrinkle he didn’t like.

“Is this an otter thing?”

“I don’t know!” He threw up his hands. “I’m not an otter and I’m not a dragon and I’m not a wolf and I’m not human and I don’t know how to be any of them!” He yanked on the awful cap with both hands. Stone still pressed into his palm.

“A Jaskier thing then.” He didn’t turn around to look at him. Still kneeling in the bed. “What’s upsetting you?”

He looked at the bed. Felt the stone in his palm. “This beds just ours right?” He let go of the cap. Rolling the stone in his fingers. “Even when Yennefer arrives?” The words started and they didn’t stop. “Because you agreed to be mates and I know you didn’t really know what you were agreeing to just like how you didn’t know what you agreed to when you bonded with me and I’d really like to know before Yennefer arrives if I’m going to need a different room because I can’t. Griffins mate for life and I can’t. I can’t-“

Geralt pulled him down into his arms. “This bed is just ours. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’m nervous about Yennefer too.”

“You should be.”

“Hm.”

He turned the stone in his hands. Turned over in the bed so he was facing Geralt.

“Got you something.” Geralt hm’d his interest. “The perfect stone.” He said opening his palm for Geralt’s inspection.

“The perfect clam cracking stone?”

“I don’t actually know what that would look like. I’m not a very good otter.”

“It’s very nice Jaskier.”

“I found a bunch of stones and then Ciri picked this one out. So it’s perfect.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Do you want it?”

His face twitched. “It’s your stone.”

He looked at it. His gut was twisting anxiously for some reason. “Do you want it?”

“Jaskier what are you really asking?” Geralt was studying him. He wasn’t sure either. “Is. Is this how otters propose?”

“I don’t know. I’m not really an otter.” He looked at it. Turned it in his hand. “If it was would you take it?”

Geralt took his hand and guided it, guided the stone to his lips. “Yes. I would.”

“Oh.” He watched Geralt press his lips to the stone. His breath warm on his hand. “Do I need to ask Vesemir before?”

“Why would you need to ask Vesemir?” His face curling in amusement.

“For his permission to marry you? And I suppose I’d need to ask Ciri too. It’s only fair.”

Geralt leaned forward and kissed his brow. “You can ask them in the morning. Why don’t you ask me now?”

He bit his lip. “Well maybe you need to ask. I’m the viscount. Maybe I need to be properly courted.”

“You’re a viscount?”

“Well I was. At one point.”

“Do I need to court you?”

“I suppose that depends.”

“On what?”

“Your answer.”

Geralt smiled. “Maybe you should ask the question.”

“Geralt?”

“Hm?”

“Will you marry me?”

He took the stone between his fingers. “Gladly.”