#anyway. SHES COMING TOGETHER. I gotta name her but like. I’m very proud of myself for picking this project up again

[jensonsbuttons]

oh that’s funny. you think mclaren got p1 in constructors when it was actually me

[nymphbnny]

perfect strangers

MINORS DNI // 18+

part one; part two; part three

genre: nsfw

pairings: jean kirschtein x female reader

word count: 2.6k

tags/warnings: penetrative sex, dom jean, fingering, praising kink, slight body worship, dirty talk, sneaky.

synopsis: your recent discovery makes you certain that you won't be able to control yourself around him and neither will he, hence you decide that it was time to make an agreement that was rather spicy.

a.n: hey babies! so i finally decided to turn this into a short series since some of you were intrigued with the idea of having a continuation for the previous part i wrote. i hope you like it, enjoy <3

“How was I supposed to know?!” I yelled as soon as Jean exited our apartment. I had put on a random t-shirt to follow Connie to his room, trying to convince him that I had no idea that I fucked his best friend.

“Y/n he literally told you his name is Jean and he was attending my party. You’re acting as you’ve never seen him before!” he scolded taking off his shirt and throwing it across his room.

“Oh for fuck’s sake Connie. The last time I saw Jean I was 16 and he didn’t look like that. He’s so fucking different now how was I supposed to know. And to be fair, he was studying abroad for I don’t know how many years, how was I supposed to know that he metamorphosed like that.” I motioned my arm out, my other hand resting on my hip.

He groaned, rubbing his temples before he looked back at me. “Look,” he spoke softly. “I don’t want to fight with you over this okay? You’re right, I should’ve told you that he was coming back. He graduated a year ago and was considering coming back to his hometown, here. Let’s just forget it all happened okay? It’s a simple misunderstanding.” I nodded, resting my head on his chest as he embraced me into a tight hug.

“Now go take a shower you reek of sex.” he snickered earning a punch on his arm. He winced rubbing his flesh, a proud smile setting on my face.

***

The week went by smoothly. I told Sasha and Hitch what happened and they both had different reactions. Hitch was gushing over the sex and Sasha on the other hand confessed that she forgot to mention that Jean was coming back to stay here. It’s okay though. We all passed it and I was working my ass off to finally graduate.

Connie was spending his days with Jean, which granted me a lot of peace and tranquility. At least, that’s what I thought.

I hadn’t spoken to Jean ever since we hooked up, figured that Connie already explained the whole situation and moved on.

Three knocks on my door broke my focus, a loud frustrated sigh leaving my lips. “What Connie!”

“Actually,” a voice on the other side of the door caught me off guard. “It’s Kirschtein. Can I come in?” A knot formed in my throat.

“Sure.” he turned the knob, slowly coming in. “Connie knows I’m here by the way.” I nodded, adjusting my seat.

“What’s up?” the tension was awkward. The tension shouldn’t even be present in the first place. But how could I not get aroused when he was wearing a black tank top showing off the tattoos on his sleeves with a pair of sweats. He looked effortlessly attractive.

“- and like I said it will never happen again. Y/n?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, yeah. Never happen again. I’m very sorry but I need to finish this assignment.” He chuckled and nodded leaving me alone with my thoughts. Did I just make him talk to himself because I was too busy checking him out?

I shook my head, assuming that whatever he said wasn’t worth my time. Time went by rather quickly and the assignment was done earlier than I expected. It was already ten pm, and I had promised the girls I was going to meet up with them for some drinks.

I picked my outfit and applied some makeup. Simple and effective. We were going to spend the night at Sasha’s so I didn’t make much effort to look hot.

The place was empty when I left and I assumed that Connie was helping Jean to rent an apartment for himself.

Sasha’s place wasn’t very far from mine. As a matter of fact, it only took me ten minutes to get there. Once I got there, the girls were already ordering pizza and picking out some movies to watch.

“Hey whores.” I greeted them, earning cheers from Hitch and Sasha. “Oh my god, Mikasa I missed you!” I rushed to the dark-haired girl who was sitting on the couch and engulfed her into a tight hug. I haven’t seen Mikasa since I moved with Connie. We used to live together, but after she and Eren got together, he wouldn’t leave her alone. So I figured it would be best if I left and lived with my brother.

“I missed you too! I looked for you everywhere at that party where were you?” she asked taking a sip of her soda. Hitch began coughing dramatically as Sasha giggled next to her. “Oh quit it.” I teased rolling my eyes.

I ended up telling her everything, her face displaying a plethora of expressions. “I mean, Jean did change I can’t argue with that. But didn’t he recognize you?”

I shrugged. “I changed too. Puberty hit me like a truck.”

“Cheers to that.” Hitch raised her cup. We laughed and talked for hours. I missed going out with them like that. Fortunately, college will be over soon and I’ll have some time for myself.

Movies were playing in the background but we paid them no mind. We ate our food and cleaned the living room, not wanting to bother Sasha with the cleaning since she was having Niccolo over tomorrow.

I glanced at the clock that was hanging above the door. I gathered my stuff and tucked them in my bag, drawing all of their eyes on me.

“Already? Come on stay longer!” Sasha whined. I smiled softly at her and shook my head.

“I can’t, I’ll see you guys soon.” I waved at them and walked out of the door.

***

“Connie! I’m ho- what are you still doing here?” I froze at the entrance, my keys still hanging from my index finger, my eyes fixated on him as he only stood in basketball shorts.

“What do you mean what am I still doing here. I moved in here remember?”

Silence. Nothing but intense and awkward silence. Moved in? Since when?

“I told you when I came into your room. Weren’t you listening to me?” I stared at him blankly, not able to explain how caught in thought I was when he came into my room. I was too busy checking him out to care about what he was trying to tell me.

“Why didn’t Connie tell me?” I closed the door and locked it slowly, my legs feeling weak, the idea of living with him and seeing him walking around like that making me weak. And extremely horny.

“He said he’d rather if I told you. You know, break the ice.” he shrugged and walked forward, his chest now a few inches apart from mine. “You changed a lot from what I remember.” he lowly said tucking my hair behind my ear.

“So did you,” I replied, staring at his lips. He licked his bottom lip and held my chin between his fingers, forcing me to maintain eye contact.

I was a sweating mess. I still couldn’t believe that this was Jean, the horse face. What kind of water did he drink, and how did he get so big? Look at those muscles-

A sudden feeling on my lips interrupted my chain of thoughts. I soon realized that he held my bottom lip between his brown ones. “Kiss me back y/n, I know you want to,” he whispered, his breath brushing up my face.

It didn’t take me long to pull him to me, crashing my lips on his. He was intoxicating in ways I couldn’t understand nor explain. I needed him close to me at the moment and I didn’t care why.

“Yo, Jean where did you my video game?!” Connie’s voice boomed from the hallway, forcing us apart. Realization slapped my face when I looked at him and saw his cocky smirk. I just kissed him, even though I promised myself I’d never do anything with him ever again.

“I’ll get it!” he yelled back, the same expression resting on his face, his back facing the hallway. “I’d apologize, but you pulled me back. Anyway, I’ll see around beautiful.” he winked and began walking towards Connie’s room, his back muscles flexing at his movements.

What am I doing with myself?

***

The atmosphere felt nice. I couldn’t sleep so instead I lied down on my bed and watched the stars from my window. I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened hours ago and how I had to sit with them and pretend as nothing happened.

Jean was certainly not the little boy he was years ago. He got more confident and a lot more handsome. He was fucking with me and I thought, why shouldn’t I fuck with him too?

After all, I know for sure he didn’t tell Connie anything. He’s too protective of me and if he knew, well let’s just say Jean would be moving out by tomorrow. He trusts him blindly and I honestly just think he doesn’t want me to hook up with him again because he’s just like him.

He likes to mess around. Not the type to stay in the morning after. But neither was I. I sighed and dragged my legs out of bed, my body following.

“Shit now I gotta pee,” I whined stomping slightly on the wooden floor. I ruffled my hair with my hand and slipped on my slippers. I was wearing Connie’s t-shirt, so it was long enough to hide my thighs.

I walked to the bathroom when suddenly a hand grabbed my arm and yanked me into the guest bedroom. My mouth was quick to be silenced by another hand as I was about to squeal.

My back collided with the wall, my hands pinned on each side of my head.

“Jean let me go.” I struggled to get out of his grasp but he kept grinning at me. “Sure.” He let go of his grasp.

I looked around to notice a towel on his bed. “I was going to take a shower but then I heard your footsteps, couldn’t let you get there before I did.” He walked away, throwing his towel over his shoulder.

“Is that all?” I cocked my eyebrow, crossing my arms. He looked me up and down before saying: “You tell me. Need anything else?”

I looked at him briefly, calculating my next move. “An agreement. Connie can’t know.”

“Fuck yeah.” he dropped his towel and stepped closer to me, holding my face with his hands as he crashed his lips on mine. I kissed him back instantly, my fingers finding their way through his hair.

His tongue slipped in, caressing mine. His hands went down my body to squeeze my ass, pulling me even closer to him. My hands traveled across his bare chest, going over his pecs and then gliding one hand down his abs, while the other sat on his shoulder.

We pulled apart, his arms going under my thighs to pull me up and sit me onto the mattress. He walked to the door, locking it before he looked back at me.

Jean crawled over my body, caging me between his arms. “Divine.” he smiled and sat up, his hands tugging at my top. I helped him take it off and threw it on his chair. I was nude underneath him. It wasn’t the first time, yet he still looked mesmerized.

He licked his lips, his fingers tracing my cunt before dipping into my entrance. I arched my back at the sudden intrusion, trying my best to remain quiet.

“I missed your little cunt.” he chuckled massaging my insides slowly. I gasped, my hand immediately covering my mouth.

He rubbed my bud with his thumb, his pace never changing. It was torturing and slow, but I knew we couldn’t make a lot of noise nor make lots of movements that could awake Connie. We had to go nice and easy.

My legs squirmed, the combination of playing my nipples and watching him touch like he does driving me to the edge. My eyes rolled to the back as he added a third finger, my walls clenching tightly around them as I felt myself orgasm around them. “Good girl.” he praised with a chuckle, removing his fingers from my opening.

“Suck your juices off come on.” he tapped my hand, motioning me to remove it and take his fingers in. I stuck my tongue out, his ling digits finding their way down my throat making me slightly gag. “I didn’t know you were such an obedient girl.” he cooed, as I sucked off my arousal.

Jean sat back up, removing his shorts along with his briefs, his erection slapping on my lower stomach. “As much as I’d love you to suck me,” he paused pumping his cock. “I have to say that I miss being inside you.” And with that, he slid all the way in, his mouth silencing my moans.

He stayed still for a while, his eyes staring into mine intensely, almost as if he was trying to tell me something. I nodded my head, his hips moving at my signal. His thrusts were slow and deep, going over every spot. I wrapped my arms around him, my forehead resting against his, as he breathed heavily.

“I want to fuck you dumb, but he’ll hear your moans.” he taunted rolling his hips, his tip almost hitting my cervix. “So good.” I whimpered, wrapping my legs around him, my heels digging into his lower back.

“Jean…” I was close and my legs were a shaking mess. “That’s right baby, say my name.” he breathed in my ear, slightly speeding up his thrusts. I bit onto his shoulder, my orgasm ripping through my body.

I tightened around him, his strokes getting sloppier. It came to my attention that he wasn’t wearing protection, and I wasn’t about to get adventurous like last time. “Jean… pull out…”

“Beg.” was his only reply to which I complied. “Please, anywhere, just not-“ He harshly pulled out, and instead of jerking himself on my stomach, he reached up to straddle my chest and stroked himself. “Open.”

I stuck my tongue out, his hand now replaced with mine as I jerked him off, ropes of cum shooting down my throat. “Such a good girl.” he chuckled, rubbing his hand over his face.

He got off me and pulled his hair back using both hands, his naked body walking around the bed to grab some tissues. He cleaned off my arousal and handed me some to clean the corners of my lips.

“If only you could see how messed up you look,” he smirked and threw me my t-shirt before grabbing his towel and sliding on his shorts.

I put on my top and got off his bed. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and internally yelled at myself. I looked like a mess. My hair was tangled and my skin was all sweaty. Guess I have to take a shower too.

I looked over at Jean to see him staring at me with an amused look on his face. “What?” I cocked my eyebrow. He shrugged and smiled at me. “Connie and I are going out to get some lunch tomorrow. What’d you say?” he requested.

“I mean yeah sure. But Jean he can-“

“Can’t know alright.” he rolled his eyes. We stared at each other for a minute before I decided to leave his room.

As I made my way past him, his hand flew to cup my swollen cunt. “This belongs to me.”

[yannowhatigiveup]

My One And Only - Ch 4

Previous | Next

E chapter 4 is here. This one is longer than the previous chapter I think anyway enjoy this chapter!

Then Nino whispered to Alya "Do you think she likes Luka again?"

"I..don't know, but I'm gonna find out one way or another"

————————————————————

The trip went smoothly. Surprisingly, Lila hadn't done anything at all. Maybe she admitted to what she had done. Her loyal 'minions' had avoided her slightly today but Marinette knew they would come crawling back to Lila tomorrow, as if this never happened. Though, Marinette was grateful to have Alya, Nino and Adrien by her side. And Marinette was also surprised at how Chloe came to her defense, kinda. When the bluenette was getting her bag from her locker, she overheard Chloe confronting Lila.

"You were the cause of Marinette's late appearance weren't you? Ridiculous! Utterly Ridiculous! The only one allowed to mess with Dupain-Chen's is me, got that?" The blonde said. "If I ever find you bullying her in anyway I'll have you expelled!"

Marinette was thankful that Chloe had come in her defense, in her own way. Marinette was about to catch up to her friends, who were getting closer to the exit, when she felt a vibration from her phone in her pocket. She took her phone and saw a message from 'Uncle Jagged'. She opened it and read it.

Uncle Jagged: Hey Nettie! Sorry about the late notice but I've been called for an interview. We'll need to reschedule

Marinette began typing

Marinette: It's no problem Uncle Jagged! I'll be free for more less the rest of the week

Uncle Jagged: Yeah I'm free tomoz, you can drop by then

Marinette: Kk

Marinette but her phone away. 'I can spend more time with Damian' she thought with a smile on her face.

"Hey Marinette! You free later?" The voice of her best friend echoed in the near empty school. "We were planning on going to Adrien's later, his father finally allowed us to come over!"

"I'm afraid I can't" Marinette said, feeling a bit guilty. "I'm busy, actually-" she glanced at her phone for the time "I gotta go! See you guys later maybe!" Marinette then ran out the building.

"Oh that's...fine" Alya said while her best friend ran by. "I wonder what's so important that she passed up going to Adrien's"

"You guys sure you don't wanna join me in the car?" Adrien asked.

"It's fine dude! Alya and I can walk"

"If you say so" Adrien answered, unconvinced. As he got into the car, he used this silence so that he could here his own thought clearly. 'I...I think I like Marinette, no I'll admit it. I know I like Marinette but does she like me back?'

~~~

Alya and Nino were walking down the street together, hand in hand, before Nino started a conversation. "Do you think Marinette has stopped crushing on Adrien?"

Alya shook her head vigorously "There's no way! She has nearly every photo of him in existence and she memorized the boy's schedule boy heart don't forget!"

"But then how do you explain how she was acting earlier?" Nino stated, firmly believing his own theory. "She didn't trip on her words at all! Even when she was tired she would always stammer while talking to him"

Alya then thought about what her boyfriend was saying. "You're right! And to think Adrien just started showing signs of liking her". Alya sighed in sympathy for the blonde boy. "Do you think she likes Luka again?"

"Who else could it be?" Nino asked but didn't wait for his (rhetorical) question to be answered as they reached the gate to Adrien's house.

~~~

Marinette rushed home to change and to drop her designs in her room. She's gotten a lot better at designing and making her designs, so much better that everything she would where would be her original designs and she was proud of it. She quickly got changed into a light cream top with long sleeves, the cream top was so light in colour that it could basically be passed off as white. She also had a pair of jet-black leggings to match. "What do you think Tikki?"

"You look great Marinette!" The kwami yawned.

Happy with her outfit, she grabbed her sketched book, put it in her bag, grabbed her shoes and ran downstairs. "I'm going to a friend's place, I'll probably be back in the evening. Bye Maman! Papa!"

"Bye Marinette!" Sabine shouted, luckily Marinette's parents were too busy working on a cake to notice how Marinette was dressed purposefully to impress. Marinette also noticed how Tikki looked tired so she tried not to run so the little kwami could get some sleep.

She soon arrived at Le Grand Paris. She felt very out of place as the doors opened for her but she walked without fear to the reception. 'Here we go'.

"Yes Miss, how may I help you?" The female receptionist asked.

"Hi, um I'm here to go to Mr Damian's room"

The receptionist nodded "Alright just give me one minute" she seemed to brace herself to call the room's phone which Marinette didn't understand. True Damian isn't that great with expressing his emotions but he wasn't that bad. Well, not to her at least. She blushed slightly at this realisation "Sir? There's someone here to see you"

"Ask for their name" a voice from the telephone said.

"Excuse me miss what's your name?"

"Marinette" the bluenette said.

"She says her name is Marinette, sir" the receptionist said with a slightly shaky voice.

"She may come in" the voice from the telephone rang.

The receptionist put the phone down and told Marinette the floor and room number. Though she already knew the room number, she didn't know what floor he was on so the information was useful. Marinette then walked to the lift and pressed the button that would lead her to the floor Damian was on. When she reached the door she had to breathe in a little before knocking on it. Surprisingly it opened right away, by Damian of course.

"Hi again, Damian" Marinette said switching to English. When she opened her eyes she saw that Damian was examining her. 'Did I put something on that didn't match? No it can't that' Marinette then blushed a little. Though she didn't even know the guy for a full day, her crush for him had blossomed, tremendously.

Damian glanced at Marinette's outfit, it complimented her personality and physique perfectly. He then realised he might had been staring for some time now and shook his head to snap out of the trance. "Yes, hello again. Please, come in" and he opened the doors for her. Damian watched as she looked around the suite, examining her surroundings, while Damian went back to examining, well, Marinette.

"Wow, You got one of the big suites" Marinette said, her eyes outshining anything bright in the room.

"Yeah" Damian mumbled and he could tell that the girl seemed pretty self conscious about her outfit. 'Because of me staring no doubt'. So to cheer her up, he said "You look lovely by the way"

The girl's face turned into a bright red. "You really think so?"

Damian nodded. "That hair clip suits you. If you're top was pure white, I would've been convinced that you were an angel, not that you aren't one already" Damian thought of something. "Actually, Angel is not a bad nickname for you. Is it ok if I refer to you as that from now on?"

Marinette was consumed by happiness. "Thanks for complimenting my outfit at being able to pick out all the little details" On her face was now a look of pure love and joy. "And since you'll be calling me 'Angel', I think it's only fair if I call you 'Shaytan' from now on" This made Damian laugh.

"Courtesy of my brothers no doubt" Earlier, Damian had told her that his brothers usually called him 'Demon Spawn' and she laughed, not seeing why they call him that. He knew that Marinette was aware of his 'ice-cold' personality but she never judged him for it. "And is it ok if we watch this Jagged Stone interview? My brothers and I are quite big fans, Tim and Jason are even bigger fans for MDC. Full out fanboys"

Marinette giggled, "Sure I don't mind! I'm a fan of Jagged Stone too". Damian then went to turn the TV on while Marinette wen to out her bag somewhere, but she kept her phone with her. She then sat next to Damian on the sofa, leaving about a pencil's width between them. Damian was fine with this, actually, he would be fine if Marinette full on hugged him with sitting there. He didn't mind.

Then, Nadja Chamack's voice echoed in the more or less quiet hotel room. "So Jagged Stone, many of the viewers, myself included, Have been all wondering the same question: Who is this MDC?"

Jagged Stone chuckled. "Well I'm not going to reveal her name yet but I can tell you, she is honorary my niece."

"Interesting, very interesting" Nadja said. "Is it possible if we could have an interview with her?"

"If she's willing to pick up her phone then sure" Jagged chuckled again while reaching for his phone and dialing a number.

Then Marinette's phone rang. Damian did get a bit suspicious at first but didn't want to invade her privacy. That was until Marinette's voice echoed through the TV's speakers.

"Hi Uncle Jagged!"

———

Taglist: @little-bluestar,@miracleofadisaster

[spacedikut]

“i want to love someone and be loved” ; spencer reid - part 2

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: spencer decides it’s time to tell you, but he needs some help. 3887 words. part 1

a/n: THIS is the longest fic ive ever written but im actually kinda proud of how it turned out? i hope this is a good sequel :)

Spencer chickens out of telling you the next day.

He avoids you all weekend, actually. You resisted texting him the day after Rossi’s because you assumed he’d be busy – with his big plan involving a girl that isn’t you. You’re not bitter – but Sunday comes around and you message him not long after you wake up and six hours later there’s no response.

Twelve hours later - there’s no response.

Monday, you don’t have time to say hello to anyone – there’s a case waiting for you, somewhere in Florida.

Reid avoids your eyes. His body language tells you something is wrong, so you assume whoever he confessed to didn’t reciprocate (they’re insane) and he’s dealing with it. So you don’t press.

Spencer pretends to sleep the entire jet ride. He’s avoiding everyone, not just you.

He spent the whole weekend beating himself up. He drove to your apartment on Saturday, sat outside for so long a neighbour knocked on his window and asked if he was lost, but couldn’t bring himself to step foot out of his car.

So he locked himself in his room, away from you and your loveliness and away from his phone because he knew you texted him and he knew you’d send some soft message about being there for him if he needs anything and he didn’t need to be reminded of how beautiful and out of reach you are.

Derek seemed to be waiting for him Monday morning, arms crossed as he held a cup of coffee. It was weird seeing him in before Spencer.

“How’d it go?” He immediately asked.

“How’d what go?” Spencer mumbles, flinging his bag on the floor by his desk. He slumps in his seat.

Derek raises a dark eyebrow, “You know what, pretty boy. You had a big thing? Big plan?”

“Didn’t work out.”

It doesn’t take a profiler to realise Spencer is very clearly saying leave me alone. Leave it alone.

Derek isn’t one to leave it alone. Especially when it comes to Spencer.

He sighs and moves a little closer to Spencer’s desk, just in case someone overhears them.

“What happened?”

“That’s exactly it,” Spencer slams open a file, “Nothing happened.”

“And why did nothing happen?”

“Because I’m an idiot that can’t even tell a girl how I feel.”

“Whoa- hey!”

Derek spins Spencer’s chair so they’re face to face. Derek takes one look in Spencer’s eyes and knows what’s going on – he got too into his head and backed out at the last minute.

“You’re not an idiot. Why didn’t you do it?”

Spencer shrugs, “I got to her apartment. I had flowers, too. I don’t know.”

Derek’s evidently concerned – Spencer’s beaten up over this, over whoever this girl is, and he deserves the chance to experience love. Spencer deserves a lot more than he himself thinks he does.

“You seemed really excited, man. You can still do it. Just cause you try once and it doesn’t work out doesn’t mean you can’t ever try again.”

Spencer stares off into the distance, accidentally ignoring Derek as his thoughts slip out of his mouth, “Yeah, it probably wouldn’t have worked anyway – I was stupid to think I could get someone like her.”

“Hey, no.” Derek nudges Spencer’s shoulder so he looks at him again, “Don’t talk like that. You’re one hell of a guy, Reid. All you gotta do is get that confidence that you had Friday night back, and you’re all set. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Spencer gives a feeble nod. Derek moves back to his desk, knowing he isn’t convinced, but he isn’t done yet.

+++

Later, in Florida, Spencer’s making a coffee in the precinct’s kitchen after waiting twenty minutes for you to leave. Luck’s on his side, for once, and you’ve been working non-stop with Prentiss going crime scene to crime scene so he hasn’t had to actively avoid you. You smile at him every chance you get, though, and it distracts him.

Someone clears their throat behind him. It’s Penelope, whom Spencer didn’t realise was invited on this case.

She looks guilty. Spencer recognises that face; the face she has when she’s done something she shouldn’t have or knows something she isn’t really supposed to. Given current circumstances, Spencer bets it’s the latter reason.

“Morgan told me something he shouldn’t have.”

Bingo.

He leans against the kitchen counter, stirring his coffee absentmindedly.

“What did he tell you?” He asks, feigning tranquillity. Inside he’s screaming non-stop.

She’s got her hands clasped together in front of her, almost innocently, and fiddles with her fingers, “He told me you needed assistance in the love department.” Before he can object, she continues, “And I am willing to do anything if it means our resident weirdo-slash-genius falls in love and gets to experience some much needed cuteness.”

There’s no point in lying to her. There’s also no point in being mad that Morgan told her about his situation – they’re kind of a package deal. And, who knows, Garcia might be able to help.

“So…” She sways, trying (and failing) to appear nonchalant, “Who’s the lucky lady?”

Spencer shuffles on the spot, scuffing his shoes against the floor. He debates whether he should tell her, since, you know, you’re in the next room over, but Spencer worries that Garcia is so good at her job she’d somehow find out through hacking Spencer’s phone, or maybe somehow hacking his dreams. His subconscious. He’s terrified of Garcia and her abilities.

“You can tell me.” She insists, “I’m much better at keeping secrets than Morgan.”

Spencer turns away from her, she steps closer, and he mumbles your name.

“What?”

“Y/N.”

“WHAT?!”

Spencer spins, hands coming up to tell Garcia to shut up and Garcia immediately covers her mouth in both shock and hopefully so she doesn’t shout again.

“Since when?!” She screeches. “How could I not have known?! Oh God, almighty Doctor Reid, I feel like I’ve failed you by not realising earlier.”

Her enthusiasm makes him smile, for the first time in far too long. Garcia has that power – this innate skill to comfort those around her and make them feel special, make them smile when the world feels like its collapsing.

“Let me help!” She requests.

Spencer’s clearly hesitant. He knows it’s a bad idea.

“Please!” She begs, “I just- I have so many ideas of how you can go about this. Let me brainstorm, get back to you, and if I’m too over-the-top you can tell me no and we’ll pretend it never happened!”

He takes a deep breath. Yes, Garcia is the definition of over-the-top, but that’s one of his favourite things about her. It’s your favourite thing, too. And he did tell Morgan he had big plans. Anything involving Garcia is a big plan with big payoff.

“This is between us.”

“I’ll take it to the grave. Unless you realise how amazing my ideas are and use one to tell Y/N how you feel and then years later I get to commend myself during my maid of honour speech at your wedding.”

She looks ecstatic, hands now together under her jaw as her eyes twinkle. Spencer can’t help but laugh at her eagerness.

+++

The next day, the team returns to Quantico after a semi-successful case. The general mood is good and Morgan invites everyone out for drinks – Spencer declines, but you have your first full conversation since last Friday.

“C’mon, Spence,” Your head rests against the jet seat and you blink sleepily at him, “I feel like I haven’t spoken to you for years!”

Spencer gives you a small smile, “I promised my mom I’d call her tonight. Sorry, Y/N.”

You nod in understanding, “Will you tell her I say hi?”

“Of course. She loves you.”

You grin at eachother, immediately lost in your own world. You’ve missed him more than you realised, and you have no idea what’s going through his head, but you’re happy that you’ve had this – a Spencer Reid smile that makes you feel at home and on top of the world simultaneously.

Spencer has to tear his eyes away before he blurts something stupid, like she’s not the only one that loves you.

+++

“Spencer!” Garcia greets, Cheshire cat grin on her face. “I need to see you in my dungeon, please. Immediately.”

Spencer drops the file he’s holding. Unfortunately, Penelope’s request caught the attention of the whole team.

“What business do you have in the villain’s lair, Reid?” Derek asks. You’ve looked up from your computer, Emily smirking and leaning back in her chair in expectation.

“Uh…”

“Important nerd business. Go away.” Garcia says, eyes narrow as she tugs Spencer’s hand. He’s whisked away from any further questioning, leaving the befuddled team behind.

He isn’t sure what to expect when he stumbles into Penelope’s second home, but the display in front of him explains why he overheard a conversation about missing evidence boards earlier. Penelope’s obviously been using the new printer in her cave to her advantage – there’s at least twenty different pictures printed out on one board titled “date ideas”, then the board on the right has a picture of Spencer and you in the centre with a perfectly drawn heart around it. Under and around that is a mixture of love quotes, including song lyrics and quotes directly from romantic movies. He notices “The Parliament of Fowls” on there – Garcia remembers that he mentioned it’s considered the first Valentines poem?

“Whoa,” Is all he can say.

“I know it’s a little intense,” Garcia squirms, “But! I started scrolling through Pinterest and couldn’t stop. I don’t know what came over me, maybe some type of love deity, but I started thinking about you and Y/N in a classic love film in, like, black and white and I…”

She’s out of breath from animatedly explaining.

Spencer laughs through his nose, almost a scoff, but he’s impressed. He shouldn’t have expected anything else from the Penelope Garcia.

As Spencer wanders towards the first board, Garcia follows him like a shadow, “My personal favourite is-“ She points to a picture of chocolate fondue with faceless people in very little clothing, “-this one.”

Spencer awkwardly clears his throat when he begins to think of you and him like that.

“A little much for your declaration of love, though, I get it,” Garcia nods.

He scans the board – heart speeding up when he moves from idea to idea and picturing you and him in each one. He can’t help but think no, that one would be good for our anniversary – ah, she’d love to do that one for her birthday.

“What’re you thinking?” Garcia asks quietly. She knows his brain is whirring like her computer drive, so she approaches him gently.

“This one.” He says. “Where should we do it?”

Garcia grins behind him. The one he’s referring to shows a dinner table set up outside, brown wooded table with white wooden chairs opposite eachother. There’s flowers at the centre, a bottle of wine already poured in each glass in front of a basket of cookies, and the area around is shrouded by shrubbery, fairy lights hanging delicately from every-which-way.

It’s perfect. You love fairy lights, Spencer loves cookies, and the set-up looks private enough for Spencer to feel confident when he empties his heart and soul to you.

“The roof.” Garcia says wistfully.

“We have access to that?”

“Yes.” They both know they don’t. “Leave it to me. Oh… one more thing.” She adds, hesitantly, “Can Morgan help? I’m a lot of things, including emotionally strong and your love guru, but physically I’m gonna need some assistance.”

Spencer doesn’t even need to agree – Morgan’s gonna involve himself no matter what.

+++

Five o’clock is quickly approaching and you’re slumped over your desk, lost in your work. You need to be lost in it, because ever since Garcia released Spencer from her office right after lunch he’s been sneaking glances at you (he’s not sneaky) and has made several attempts to approach you but decided against it, sharply turning and pretending he meant to go another way instead.

You are beyond confused. You assume it’s to do with the girl he’s been trying to get over – you hope he’s been trying to build the confidence to tell you exactly what happened and maybe, you really hope, he’ll invite you over for the weekend so you can slip back into your old routine.

“Psst.”

You assume they’re not trying to get your attention, so you don’t move.

“Psst!”

You still don’t move.

“Y/N!”

Your head snaps up to Spencer leaning over the divider between your desks. He looks alarmed – which is odd, given he’s the one who called you – and he opens and closes his mouth a few times before he finally speaks.

“Are you busy tonight?” He sits back and, if he wasn’t so goddamn tall, all you’d be able to see would be his eyes. His added height means you can see his eyes and his nose. You wanna kiss it.

You smile – this is an olive branch, “I am completely available for whatever it is you might need.”

You sound incredibly eager, which you are. You miss him.

His cheeks move upwards, a smile, “Can I talk to you, later, on the roof? Uh-“ He clears his throat, “-I need to tell you something.”

You raise an eyebrow, “You’re not gonna push me off, right?”

“No,” He laughs.

“Promise me.”

Now he guffaws, “I would never, Y/N!”

“Promise me, Reid!”

“Alright, alright! I promise!” He’s jokingly raising his hands in a form of surrender.

You give him another smile and turn back to your work. You feel at ease, now, thinking he’s finally gonna tell you what happened on the weekend – finally you’ll be able to help him and go back to normal.

Spencer, on the other hand, is the exact opposite of ease. He’s about to pour his heart out to you.

He takes a deep breath and looks back to his computer, which is open on a tab titled “How to Tell Someone You Like Them.”

Step 3: Be Confident.

Spencer opens a new tab and searches, “How to be confident.”

+++

Garcia hacks into Spencer’s computer to open a document and type that the roof is ready. She wishes him luck, tells him she loves him, and calls dibs on being the godmother of your future children. As if she doesn’t have enough godchildren as it is.

He clears his throat and your head snaps towards him. You’ve been done for a while, playing Tetris on your phone, waiting for Spencer to take you to the roof where he swears he won’t kill you – you’re not entirely convinced.

“Um-“ He scratches his neck, “You ready to go?”

You nod and give him a weak smile in hopes it gives him some type of reassurance.

“Whatever happened, it’s okay, Spence.”

All he does is nod in return, gathering his coat and bag. He doesn’t really register what you say, or he would’ve been very confused.

You follow him up to the roof. The elevator ride is silent and Spencer is jittery; his hands twitch and tap against his legs, he’s bouncing on his toes and he keeps looking at you through the corner of his eye. You’ve taken several deep breaths to calm your racing heart – you hate heights, and this is the closest you’ve been to Spencer in a week. This will be the longest conversation you’ve had with him in a week, too.

The second the doors open, Spencer leaps in front of you.

“Wait!”

You jump back in surprise, “What? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Completely fine. Just… when we get there, let me explain first, okay? Before you say anything.” He’s pleading, as if you’ve already told him no. You look at him with furrowed brows and mumble an ‘okay’.

You’re visibly confused as you trek up the flight of stairs to the roof. Spencer pushes open the fire door and the first thing you notice is how bright the roof is – you always assumed it’d be dark, little light, especially at night like this.

Wait.

There’s fairy lights… everywhere. You’re pretty sure this isn’t the norm for the FBI roof.

Spencer is equally as awed at what he sees before him - it’s exactly the photo he saw in Garcia’s cave brought to life, but he’s too distracted by you to fully appreciate it. You look like a child on Christmas; eyes wide, pupils blown, mouth slightly agape. You’re gorgeous.

“What…is this, Spence?” You wonder, noticing the set table, fingers grazing the roses that sit in a vase in the middle. They’re fresh and smell wonderful.

He stands a little behind you, fiddling with his hands, and clears his throat, “Would you like to take a seat?”

You do. When he finally sits, he pours you a glass of wine and you immediately take an anxious sip. Although Rossi is a big fan of wine, you rarely take interest in it only when Spencer’s involved. You’ve come to associate wine with him – a smile peeks out from your glass as you stare at the man opposite you.

“I need to get something off my chest. But there’s cookies, if you want one,” He picks one up from his plate, breaking it in half and giving it to you. He’s stalling, but you seem to take the bait and bite into it.

“Are these from the bakery two blocks away?”

“Yeah,” He replies, but he isn’t really paying attention. He doesn’t know where to begin.

You wait patiently for him to open up. You’re still unsure of what to make of all of this – the beautiful setting, the wine, the flowers, the lights. God, the lights are dazzling in the Virginia night sky. You need context, and you need it now.

“Spence-“

“Listen.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, I just…” He trails off, “I need to say what I need to say before I back out again.”

You fold your hands in your lap. You’re ready for whatever’s to come.

“Do you know how long we’ve known eachother?” He asks. His head tilts like a puppy.

“Nearly five years. Our friendaversary is coming up, you know.”

You realise, then, that this must be a celebration for that – that explains the… typically romantic setting. Before you can open your mouth to ask if that what’s this is, Spencer speaks.

“Four years, three-hundred and sixty days. That’s how long we’ve known eachother.”

“If we were dating, we would’ve been my longest relationship the second we passed a year.”

You don’t know why you said it, but it flusters him. He has to pause to take a breath and collect his thoughts.

“I’ve been in love with you for four years and three hundred and fifty-eight days, Y/N.”

It’s silent as you process and he figures out how to continue.

“I knew you were special when you were introduced to us. Hotch already had such a soft spot for you, and you had this way about you that made us all fall in love instantly. I remember Garcia did a background check the second she found out your name and she said you remind her of me and I… that freaked me out, to be honest. I thought you’d try to replace me.” He huffs a laugh, but can’t bring himself to look you in the eye, “I realised I was in love with you when you drunkenly defended me. Do you remember that?” His eyes flicker to yours for half a second – you’re wide-eyed, “You’d known me for two days at that point, but we’d already done a case together so we were celebrating. And these guys at the bar were whispering about me, acting like I couldn’t hear them, and the second you realised what was happening you stood up, stormed towards them and gave them a piece of your mind. It was incredible.

“You barely knew me, at least personally, but you thought so highly of me you scolded a group of drunk bodybuilders without a second thought. You made them apologise – it was hysterical watching someone half their size force them into submission like that – and when you were done you asked if I wanted to leave and go get ice cream. We couldn’t, cause you vomited on the way there, but I knew in that moment I loved you and I feel so hard, so quickly, I didn’t know what to do. And you never… you never indicated you thought of me as anything other than a friend so I didn’t try. Then you dated Greg who, in my opinion, sucked on his best days, and you encouraged me to date Abigail and I…”

He’s run out of breath and of things to say.

“I just love you, Y/N. I’m in love with you.” He adds, “I hope that’s okay.”

He finally looks at you, then. You’re just staring and he panics when he can’t make out what you’re feeling. He’s always been able to read you, you’ve always hated the saying that eyes are the windows to the soul because your eyes are always your tell, but now they’re… glassy.

You’re crying.

“Spencer…” You gasp, throat tight.

“It’s okay.” Spencer gives a tight-lipped smile. He knows what’s coming. He should’ve expected it. He has been expecting it.

“I love you too, Spence.”

Spencer chokes on air. He takes a gulp of wine.

You give him a teary smile in disbelief, “I’ve always loved you, Spence. I thought you knew that – I thought that big brain of yours knew exactly how I felt and… you didn’t do anything about it so I thought you didn’t feel the same. Spencer…”

He slowly moves a hand to place it palm-up on the table. Immediately you place your hand in his, your grip tight as you lovingly stare at him. This feels unreal.

“I’m in love with you too, you idiot.” You half laugh, half cry, “If you’ve really loved me this long, we’ve wasted so much time! God, we’re both idiots.”

Spencer’s crying too, now, and he starts laughing with you.

You’re two idiots in love, sitting opposite eachother on the roof of your place of work in a dream-like surrounding filled with fairy lights and flowers, and you could’ve been doing this for years.

Spencer sniffles, looking at you through his wet eyelashes, “Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

“If I say yes, will I get more dates like this?” You tease.

“Well, Garcia has a whole evidence board of date ideas she stole from Pinterest. We have enough ideas to last a lifetime.” He giggles.

“Penny was in on this?!”

Spencer gives a heh, “This is all thanks to her, so yeah.”

“She’s always had our backs.”

“She’s also now going to be convinced she’s cupid.”

You laugh again, and can’t help yourself when you lean across the table, still gripping Spencer’s hand, and letting your lips fall on his. Spencer leans into you, lips moving against yours as you both try to suppress grins.

You pull back slightly, Spencer’s lips following you, and whisper, “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

He kisses you again. And again. And again, just cause he can.

Big plan, big payoff. You’re worth every little stress and more.

[arhvste]

OIKAWA TOORU - WALLET PHOTOS

- summary - you knew your husband was a romantic but you didn’t know he was this much of one - fluff (x f reader)

a vent one, i didn’t like my previous statement but long story short, today i found out i’m unable to have kids which has caused my parents some upset so i’ll be a little less present this week as i try and help them let it sink in, thank you <3

being the wife to a pro volleyball player had it’s ups and downs. yes, you were incredibly proud of every single one of his achievements and you were ridiculously happy that he was living his dream but, the time you spent together was limited. with him travelling and training so much and you being restricted to stay at home a little longer due to the fact you and oikawa shared a 3 year old son together, you didn't get to see as much of him as you did when you first started dating in your third year of high school.

oikawa had suggested the name ‘kosuke’ which meant ‘rising sun’ as he was adamant about giving his first son a name which somehow related to his best friend and practically brother, haijime who’s name meant ‘beginning’. of course you agreed as haijime had been with you both through many experiences while you were together, and it was him you owed for keeping your husband in check all those years.

haijime cried the first time he met your child and his name was explained to him.

“shut up shittykawa.” the man sniffled as you handed your husband’s best friend and your child’s new uncle, your son to hold for the very first time.

since your child’s birth, haijime had made sure to spend time with your family and drop by even when oikawa was out of town so he could bond with his technical nephew.

today was one of those days. oikawa was training as the hours of the day dragged on and yourself and haijime were sat on the sofa basking in the warm sun that drifted into your living room through the clear windows. your son was left to his own devices babbling and grabbing at his own feet only to tumble over and attempt to keep grabbing them.

you sighed as haijime turned to you with a small smile.

“stressed?”

you hummed and turned to the man.

“not particularly, just miss him.”

haijime let out a quick ‘ah’ and nodded as he turned to look at your son.

“i know he misses you too so don’t tell him i told you this but, he carries a few pictures of you and kosuke around and shows them off wherever he goes.”

you snorted as threw your head back slightly.

“really?”

“mhm, keeps a few candid photos in his wallet and shows them off at any chance he gets. he thrives in attention and probably feeds off of the compliments your sons pictures receive.”

you smiled. that sounded like something he would do.

you and haijime spent a few more hours catching up to which your son spent majority of the time pulled up on his uncles lap as he grabbed and giggled whenever haijime spoke and smiled down at him.

eventually the sun began to set and haijime bid a farewell to you and your son and told him to say hi to his best friend for him and let him know that he’d drop by whenever he’d next be around. you nodded and waved at the man until he was out of your sight down the pretty and peaceful street.

turning to kosuke you offered the boy a warm smile to which he happily returned.

“oh you are so a mommy’s boy!” you laughed as you carried your son to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

kosuke was sat in his highchair as he mindlessly watched whatever was catching his attention on the tv that played in the background of you cooking. his laugh and incoherent noises faded into the background as you cut vegetables and admired the view from outside your back garden.

you were so focused elsewhere, you failed to hear the sounds of the door opening and footsteps approaching. kosuke’s babbling and excitement got even louder as the sounds of your husband grew closer but you ignored them and stayed in your own little world to which oikawa immediately pulled you out of when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind.

“t-tooru! you idiot i have a knife!” you whined as your husband laughed and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“sorry sorry i couldn't help myself, but you’re so talented i knew you wouldn't harm yourself anyway.”

you frowned as you continued to cut vegetables as oikawa stayed wrapped around you.

“you’re so beautiful y/n, how’d i end up with you?”

“relentless flirting and clinging until i said yes.”

“mean y/n!”

you snickered as you put the knife down so you could turn to face your husband properly.

he smiled as he studied your pretty features as the golden sunlight enhanced your features only making you look even more unreal to oikawa who only sighed in happiness. 

pressing a soft kiss that held nothing but warmth and pure love, oikawa cupped one side of your cheek and let his other hand lean against the kitchen counter ultimately trapping you against him.

“aren’t you going to say hi to your own son?” you mused as oikawa pulled away.

“of course i am! just gotta save the best till last right?” he teased as you playfully slapped his chest.

approaching his son, oikawa had a giddy smile to which your son returned back. his strong arms pulled kosuke from out of the high chair as he gently threw him into his arms and pulled him close to his chest.

“how’s my handsome little boy been today? been good for mommy and uncle haijime today have you?”

you smiled as you watched your two favourite boys interact. 

“very good. he missed his daddy though.” you commented as you poured the vegetables into the ramen stock.

“daddy missed you too my little prince! and - ” oikawa carried his son over to where you were standing.

“daddy missed his princess too.” he smiled as he placed a kiss to your forehead.

“save it for the bedroom.” you groaned as oikawa laughed.

he pulled away as he looked at yourself and then his son.

“hey y/n, thank you.”

you quizzically raised an eyebrow.

“for what?”

“for this. for my son. for marrying me. for everything really.”

you blushed at his upfront words and put the lid on the boiling pot before facing your two boys.

“yeah? and thank you.”

this time oikawa blinked in surprise.

“me? for what?”

“for asking me to marry you, for bringing our son into the world with me, for letting yourself be happy and doing something you love, for showing off pictures of me and kosuke for every stranger you meet, for -”

“-huh? what was that?”

“for asking me to marry you?”

oikawa whined as he tugged at the hem of your sleeved.

“y/n! who told you i show off pictures, i bet it was the old lady down the street who always walks her dogs when I'm out for my run she-”

“haijime.”

oikawa let out a dramatic gasp to which his son fell into a little fit of giggles at his fathers childish behaviour.

“i’ve been betrayed!”

you laughed as you pecked his cheek before walking past him to grab another kitchen utensil.

“i think it’s cute.”

oikawa pouted before carefully placing your son back into his highchair.

“...you wanna see them?”

he didn't even give you the chance to reply as he strode back to the hallway to dig through his bag to find his wallet before returning to you with a proud smile.

opening up, oikawa showed you the selection of photos he carried around with him all day.

“haijime only told me you carry a few! you have a whole albums worth of pictures in here tooru!”

“i do not! they’re all my favourite ones look!”

oikawa shuffled through the photos showing you the various ones he kept.

there was one of yourself and tooru at your wedding, one when you were giving birth to kosuke, one of you holding kosuke for the very first time, one of you and kosuke sat behind the birthday cake on his first birthday, one of you napping in your bed with kosuke cuddled up to you and a large array of just random shots of yourself and your son individually. 

“see, all my favourite ones.”

you took a photo off the small pile and smiled. your husband really was just a big romantic, that much hadn't changed. 

the photo fell out of your grip between your fingers and you went to pick it up off the floor. oikawa quickly said to “wait!” but you’d already seen it.

on the back of the photo, oikawa had written a small caption on the back.

“y/n pleaseeeee!” he whined as he tried to swipe it before you only to lose to you.

your eyes widened at the neat writing on the back.

‘my beautiful wife and our little star on his first time watching me play a match.’

you smiled widely as oikawa blushed in embarrassment.

“you weren't meant to see that.”

“well, i’m glad i did... do they all have little captions?”

oikawa sighed before nodding curtly handing you the small pile.

each photo had a little description of what was going on in the photo and it made your heart warm as oikawa watched you with a small look of adoration twinkling in his honey pooled eyes.

“tooru, you’re such a sap, but i really really do love you.” you laughed as oikawa mumbled in embarrassment that his wife had been exposed to an even sappier side to him.

“i like to be reminded of when and where these were taken, not that i need to but when i’m old and my memory begins to falter, i’ll have these little descriptions to help me remember the blessings you’ve given me and how lucky i am.”

if oikawa tooru wasn’t making your heart speed up before he certainly was now.

you placed the photos neatly in a pile on the counter before throwing your arms around your husband who happily pulled you into him.

“i love you so much y/n, and i love kosuke just as much. of course i want to carry these photos around all day, it’s like i have a little piece of you by my side when i can't be with you.”

you pulled your head into his chest listening to his heartbeat.

“i spoke to my coaches and well, i’ll be spending a little more time with you, that's why i was home so early today.”

“how comes?” you mumbled into the cotton of his shirt he'd changed into after a quick shower after his training.

“haijime told me you’d been missing me a little more so i spoke to the coaches and they'd noted that i’d been doing particularly well recently and granted me a more flexible schedule since we don't have any actual games coming up until two months time.”

you smiled and let out a little sigh in satisfaction.

“you didn't have to.”

“well y/n, i did. and you know why? i want to expand that little pile of photos i have and i can't do that when i’m not there to take any new ones.”

“you are such a sap!”

“your sap though.”

the two of you stood there in the dim rays of sunlight peaking through the window of your spacious kitchen listening to nothing but the sounds of the tv still going on in the background and your son’s noises of amusement watching his parents embrace right next to him.

“i’m still going to kick haijime for telling you though.”

“no you won't.”

“...no i won't.”

[saturngrqy]

Friday Night Lights// GD

A/n; Hiii guys so my phone got taken and this is the first post I’ve done on a computer.. I can’t tell if I like it or not. Anyways this is gonna be cheesy af and I alr wrote something like it on my wattpad but something about football!gray is just :’) Also I have no idea how football works so fair warning

Wc: How do ya’ll find this shit anyways imma guess around 1k

Warnings: Just cheesy basic shit, fluff;’)

“I’ll see you tonight, right?” Grayson questioned for the millionth time.

“Yess,” I huffed. I grabbed my stuff off my desk as the bell rang, signaling the end of the day. Grayson stood towering over my desk before one of his friends called his name. He looked in their direction and nodded, before turning back to me. 

“I gotta go, but you have my jersey correct?” He asked.

“For the hundredth time, I have everything, and I’ll be there on time I promise,” I replied. 

He smirked down at me before turning around. Right before he left out the door he turned back to me and gave me a soft wave, making a blush rise to my cheeks. I put my laptop back in my backpack and rose out of my chair, slinging the heavy bag over my shoulder. I waved at my teacher and told her to have a good day (a/n YALL BETTER APPRECIATE UR TEACHERS) She responded with a soft smile and a “you too,” before I finally left the class. 

I headed to the parking lot, entering my car. I turned my car on and drove out the parking lot, heading home.

-

I finished doing my hair in the mirror, a simple ponytail with some strands pulled out in the front. I went back to my room, grabbing Grayson’s jersey off my dresser. I slipped it on, noticing how it went down past my knees, even with a sweatshirt on underneath. I pulled the hoodie out from under the jersey, also pulling my hair out underneath as well. 

I glanced at myself in the mirror before taking my phone out to send a snapchat to Grayson.

I posed in front of the mirror, doing a really awkward smile and a peace sign with the caption “I’m wearing itt”. 

He responded within a minute, a timer picture of him in the locker room with Ethan with a poorly drawn heart over the picture. I smiled to myself at the heart, something about the way it was so sloppy made my heart warm. I just sent back a picture of me doing duck lips before putting my phone back in my pocket. 

I put on some cherry scented lip balm and a champagne toast scented perfume from bath and body works. I fixed my hair in the mirror before heading back downstairs. I got out of my car, pulling out of the driveway to head to the school/

- 

I arrived, texting my friend Alexis that I was there. I had some friends, but I wasn’t wildly popular or liked. Grayson however, was extremely popular and was known and loved by almost all the kids, not just for his looks but also his charming personality. He was especially popular with the girls, as you can probably assume. Many girls did not like me simply because I’m dating him. People were shocked when Grayson asked me out, and in all honesty, so was I, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.

I met Alexis at the gate to the field, and we found a spot in the student section right at the front so we could get the best view. We asked Alexis’ boyfriend, Josh, who was coincidentally a good friend of Grayson’s, to save our spots while we went and got concessions. 

We walked to the concessions with our arms clung together, giggling jokes into each other’s ear before landing a spot in the line for the concessions. 

I looked at my phone, noticing a text from Grayson. 

“I say we switch it up tonight and go to Monty’s,” It read.

Grayson and I always had this post-game ritual where we would go out and get dinner. Typically, Grayson and I would tag along with his team and their girlfriends and eat at a local diner. We ate there so much they had a spot reserved for us every Friday during football season, and they knew all of our names and our orders. However this time, Grayson suggested Monty’s.

I texted back, “Why? I mean I don’t mind Monty’s but normally we go to the diner”. 

He responded quickly. “Idk, just wanna spend alone time with my girl, plus Monty’s has a new veg milkshake we have to try”.

I giggled before replying. “Sounds good to me”.

I put my phone back in my pocket. I looked back up to see Alexis smirking at me. “What?” I asked, confused. 

“He is so whipped.” She replies, snorting

I roll my eyes. “He is not, he just knows how to treat a woman.”

I hear her laugh, coughing a small “simp” under her breath. I rolled my eyes again.

We grab our drinks and snacks, me getting a bag of Doritos and a cherry coke while Alexis got a Dr. Pepper. We walked back to the stands, sitting back in our spots.

-

“And Grayson Dolan scores his third touchdown of the night folks!” The announcer tells, excitedly. I scream and yell Grayson’s name, catching his eyes as he turns to me and points, blowing a kiss. I pretend to catch it, putting my hand on my heart. He shakes his head and laughs before returning back to his team. 

There was only about 10 minutes left of the game, and we were beating the other team 20- 7. (a/n don’t kill me idk how this shit works) The other team had almost no chance of coming back after Grayson’s last touchdown. I jumped up and down, shivering, rubbing my hands up and down my arm to make myself warmer. I turned to Alexis and shook her shoulders. 

“This is so excitinggg,” I said giddily. She laughed and agreed. I turned back to watch the last couple of minutes. 

The buzzer was called, and the game was officially over, with Grayson’s team crushing the other. I almost jumped out of the bleachers, running to the side of the field. Grayson’s team cheered before he ran over to me, hugging me over the fence. 

“You did so good baby,” I whispered in his neck. 

“Thank you,” He responded kissing my cheek. I turned to him, planting a passionate kiss on his pink lips. 

“Meet me at my car so we can go get dinner,” I told him, holding his cheek in my palm. I gently tapped his cheek twice before he ran off with a nod back to his team. 

-

I waited inside my car with the heat blasted for Grayson. Suddenly the door opened, revealing a very sweaty Grayson in his team sweatshirt and sweatpants. He gave me a kiss on the cheek before going to put his stuff in my trunk. He came back in with a wide gorgeous smile on his face. 

“You scared me,” 

“I’m sorry my love. Are we ready to go?”

I pulled out of the parking lot with a smirk, driving off towards the vegan restaurant. We sat in the car listening to Man on the Moon III, Kid Cudi’s newest album that Grayson and I were obsessed with. Tequila Shots played in the background as Grayson’s hand found my thigh. 

I looked down at it before glancing up at him, noticing he was already staring at me. I blushed before looking back to the road. 

“You know, this was probably your best game yet,” I broke the silence. 

“I know right? That’s the best I’ve played all season. E said that with that performance, I’ll have college coaches looking to recruit me left and right,” He responded excitedly, making my heart flutter at his passion. 

‘I’m sure they will be, babe. You make me so proud,” I gushed.

He squeezed my thigh as a response. We pulled onto the side of the street in front of Monty’s. I unbuckled my seatbelt, about to open the door before I noticed Grayson sat still, staring at me. 

“What?” I questioned. 

“Nothing, I just love you,” He said out of the blue, making my stomach do flips. 

“I love you too,” I giggled. “Now lets go get some fucking milkshakes!”

[gooddaykate]

You Already Mean the World to Me

Marcus Pike x Reader

Word Count: just under 8500

Tags: childhood best friends, pining idiots, King Arthur/Monty Python references, some cursing, roughly unedited terrible writing

A/N: It’s finally here! Again, absolutely would not have been finished without the constant support of my dearest @thedaysarenotfull​. @hdlynn​ helped me talk through my roadblock. Let me know what you think!

You had been friends with Marcus Pike for as long as you could remember. You grew up together. You were toddlers together. You went to the same schools together. You fell in love with art together. You went to every gig his band had. He went to every art show of yours. You stood up as his “best man” in the wedding to his college sweetheart, and sat with him while he cried after she’d handed him the divorce paperwork.

You weren’t sure which broke your heart more.

You were certain that Marcus was the love of your life. He had just… never felt the same. And that was okay! You were perfectly fine loving him as much as you could. When he left a quiet but excited voicemail at three in the morning telling you that he met someone, you let all the love you held for him mold into the cracks in your heart.

Three months and many conversations about Teresa later, you got a call from him.

“Hey, Lance, I have news. Guess what.”

“Oh, it’s good you called, I’ve got news, too. Yours, though? I don’t know, Art. You’re finally moving to DC to come be with your best friend?” you asked sarcastically. The line was quiet for long enough that you took the phone off your ear to look and see if the call had dropped. “Marcus?”

“How did you know?” You could practically hear his furrowed brows.

“Wait, what?”

“How’d you know I’m moving to DC?”

“I was being facetious, you asshole. Are you serious? Are you really moving here? You’re not going to be halfway across the country anymore?”

“Nope. I got a promotion. I’ve got about a month left here in Dallas, and then I’m headed your way. I’m invincible!”

“You’re a loony,” you laughed, continuing the phrase you’ve said to each other since you were kids. “Oh my god, Marcus! That’s so incredible! I can’t wait to show you some of my favorite places. I mean, you haven’t even visited me here, Marcus, and I’ve been here for three years.”

“Yeah, I’m excited. It’ll be nice to be in the same city again, huh? Tell me your news, though.”

You laughed. “Forget city, just the prospect of even being in the same time zone is getting me excited. My news doesn’t really feel all that important, now. My show kind of took off and I had to get an agent. Now I’ve got three galleries wanting my paintings.” You knew Marcus couldn’t see you, but you shrugged anyway. “I’m not as excited by that anymore. Not when I’ll get to see you very soon. I can’t wait to have you here, oh my god. I’ve missed you so much, Art.”

“Hold the hell up, you mean to tell me that the first art show you’ve had your work in got so much traction that you needed to hire an agent? So you’re actually painting full time, now?”

“I guess when you put it that way, it does sound kind of important.”

Marcus let out a sarcastic laugh. “You freakin’ think? Man, I’m so proud of you, Lance!”

That brought a smile and heat to your face. “Thank you, Marcus,” you said quietly. “But yeah, painting full time. That triptych I did of the valley back home, remember that one?” Marcus hummed in affirmation. “That one sold for nine k. Three grand a panel, Marcus. I about crapped myself when Jenny told me how much the guy was offering.”

“That’s awesome. Did you ever meet the buyer so you could thank him in person?”

“Nah, he was some anonymous guy out of Texas somewhere. Apparently he grew up in the same general area we did. He told Jenny it reminded him of home. Enough about me, though! When will you be here officially? I’ll help you move in.”

“Three weeks. I don’t know the actual date, yet.” Marcus was quiet for a moment. “I, uh, I asked Teresa to come with me.”

In the euphoria of the galleries and having your best friend back, you’d forgotten about his potential plus one. “Oh! Oh, that’s… quick.”

He immediately jumped on the defensive. “It’s not like I demanded she go with me. She has a month to think about it. I’m going to talk to the director there and see if a place could be made for her, so she’d have a job to go to if she wants it.”

You tried to backpedal. “No, I know, Marcus. I know. It’s just,” you tried to find the words. “I don’t know, Art, you’ve been dating for three months. And I know you don’t want to hear it, bud, but I just… I just don’t think she’s all the way in like you are.”

“What?” he spat.

“From what you’ve told me I just-”

Marcus interrupted you. “Oh, that was rhetorical. You really don’t have to say it again.”

“Art, I’m sorry I just don’t think-”

The way Marcus said your first name stopped you in your tracks.

“If you can’t support me in this, then maybe I need to take a step back from our friendship.”

“Wait, Marcus, don’t you think that’s a little dramatic? I mean, I just don’t want to see you get hurt again. Art, you’ve gotta-”

“That’s enough. I’ll talk to you later.”

The line was quiet again, but you knew the line was dead this time.

“Bye, Art.” You sucked in a heavy breath and could feel your lower lip starting to quiver. “I love you.”

•

DC didn’t feel right. Marcus had moved with mostly excitement. He put a down payment on a house not far from headquarters. Teresa would be joining him today- he needed to leave to pick her up from the airport in about an hour, and then they’d start life as an engaged couple.

But Lance was missing.

It’d been almost five weeks since he’d spoken to her. He knew he’d been hasty and rude the last time they’d talked. He also knew she was just trying to help him protect his heart. But he didn’t need his heart protected. Lance didn’t know Teresa like he did. She’d see that when Teresa was finally here and they could meet. Everything was going to work out.

Marcus picked up his phone to call her for the hundredth time since moving to the same city she lived in. He missed her, and he knew it was his place to pick up the phone and apologize, but he just couldn’t.

A call from Teresa lit up his screen.

That’s odd, he thought. She should be on a plane right now.

•

The next five weeks passed slowly. The longest you’d ever gone without talking to Marcus was that one weekend when you were in high school and he went on a camping trip and didn’t have service.

This was slow torture, and you knew it was your fault. If you’d just kept your mouth shut and supported him like you had with Ashley, this wouldn’t have happened. It would have hurt you, but at least he’d still be around.

You knew he was in DC by now. Because of the way things were left, you didn’t even know if Teresa had decided to come with him, though you figured she’d be stupid not to. You had considered going to the fbi headquarters and asking for him, but then you thought better of it. The fbi probably wouldn’t appreciate some random person coming in and asking for an agent, and you didn’t really want to be detained. That probably wouldn’t win any points back in Marcus’ book.

Going to your studio was just depressing. Everything you painted was spoiled by your sadness. Your agent had laughed and called this your blue period. You just threw a pained smile her way with a nod and a shrug.

It was nearing the end of the sixth week without any contact from him, and you felt the Marcus sized hole in your heart. The other day, you ordered Indian takeout, and only when you were sitting on the couch with it on your lap did you realize that it was the malai kofta that he would usually get. That realization just served to make you cry and lose your appetite.

You were getting ready for bed when you heard a knock on your door. Thinking it was the sweet old woman from next door in need of some honey for her nightly tea again, you shrugged on your robe and swung the front door open with a smile.

But it wasn’t Miss Agnes.

Marcus’ eyes were rimmed red. He just stood there in your doorway looking at you. The sight of him brought you tears of both relief and concern. His chin wobbled and more tears sprung up in his eyes.

“Marcus, I’m so sorry. I never should have-”

He cut you off with a shake of his head. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m so sorry, Lance. I just didn’t want to hear it. I’ve missed you so much.”

You let go of the door to open your arms to him. He fell into your hug with a heavy sigh. You closed the door behind him and then just held him. You both had silent tears rolling down your faces.

Marcus mumbled something into your shoulder.

“What, sweetheart?” you whispered.

You could feel the wobble of his chin when he moved his face to answer. “You were right.”

“Oh, Marcus. I’m so sorry. That’s the last thing I wanted to be right about, hon. I’m so sorry.”

You didn’t want to be the first to let go, so you just stood in your front hall holding him. After a few more minutes of tired silence, you moved your face from the crook of his neck so he would be able to hear you.

“Marcus, honey, why don’t we move to the living room? It’ll be more comfortable. And then maybe you can tell me about it? If you’re up for that. We’ve missed a lot the last month and a half.”

He stayed quiet and glued to you for just a bit longer, before mumbling a ‘yeah’ and letting go. You grabbed his hand and led him to the couch.

“Tea?”

Marcus grabbed one of the fluffy throw blankets you had folded in the basket by the couch. “Yeah. Please.”

Walking into the kitchen, you grabbed a chamomile mint blend from the shelf and spooned some of the loose leaf into a steeper. You squeezed a honey stick into each mug  and waited for your electric kettle to come to a boil. When you got back to the living room, Marcus was sitting cross-legged on the couch with the blanket pulled over his head.

“You look kind of like a sad nun, Art.”

The corners of his mouth twitched up as he took a mug from you. You sat facing him on the other end of the couch and just waited. He’d tell you when he was ready.

“I had, uh,” Marcus cleared his throat. “I had asked her to marry me.”

Your eyebrows shot up, but you didn’t say anything. You just waited for him to continue.

“She had said yes. She said she’d move here with me and had agreed to marry me. I put a down payment on a house. I was so happy.”

“Did she change her mind?”

Marcus scoffed. “She didn’t just change her mind. She left me for Patrick Jane.”

“Wait, the asshole clairvoyant?”

Marcus rolled his eyes, but the ghost of a smile lit up his face. “Yes, the asshole clairvoyant. I guess she’s been in love with him for years and it just took the prospect of her being taken away for him to finally realize he wanted her.”

You put your hand on his blanket covered knee. “If that’s the kind of man she wants, then you’re better off, Marcus. She made it clear that she only wanted him to see what he’d lose without any regard for who she hurt in the process. I know it won’t fix anything, but I’m so sorry, Marcus. You didn’t deserve that.”

He looked over at you with more tears in his eyes. “What’s wrong with me, Lance? Why am I not wanted? What am I doing wrong?”

“Marcus Alexander Pike.” You reached out to your coffee table to set your mug down. When you looked back at him, his eyes were wide. “My best friend in the entire world. Sunshine of my life. My literal favorite person. There is nothing wrong with you, okay? Let’s pick this apart, shall we? Starting with Ashley. I can guarantee you’re not going to like this part of the conversation because I’m going to be blunt and say not nice things about people you’re too kind to stop caring about, but it needs to be said, okay?”

He nodded slowly and looked down at the mug still in his hands. You put your hand on his knee and nudged so he would know to turn and face you. When he got the memo, you nodded and continued.

“Marcus, what is your degree in?”

“Art history with a specialization in art conservation. But you know that.”

“I do. Did Ashley?”

“Well, I mean, I assume so, yes. We met in art history in undergrad.”

You blinked at him. “Marcus, why did you join the fbi?”

“Well, the job I had with the museum didn’t exactly pay a whole lot, and Ashley knew someone in the art recovery department that got me an appointment. And it pays a lot better, so…” he trailed off.

“So you gave up your dream job and safety for the sake of a higher paycheck?”

He scoffed. “Well, of course. There are just some things that you have to compromise on in a marriage. You’d know that if you ever let anyone close enough to try.”

You shot him a glare. “First off, we’re not talking about me, asshole. Uncalled for. Second, compromise, I get. But what did she compromise? Marcus, you gave up your dream job, friends, a town you loved all for a dangerous job because your wife said she wanted more disposable income to spend at Nordstrom?”

“I was happy to do all of that because we loved each other and she-”

“Marcus, Ashley cheated on you,” you interrupted.

“No she didn’t, Lance. And even if she did, I was just too overbearing. I pushed her away.”

You heaved out a sigh. “Okay, let’s look at the facts. I know you’ve kept tabs on her. How long after your divorce was final was she engaged to that Todd guy?”

“Tedd, actually, but three-ish months.”

“You cannot tell me that she wasn’t with that guy while y’all were still married. She was never someone to rush into things. I mean, you asked the girl three times to marry you, and she said ‘not yet’ the first two. So three months after she wasn’t Mrs. Pike anymore, she rushes into another marriage? You’re a smart man, Marcus. Use that big fbi brain to look at the facts.”

“Okay, sure. She cheated on me. But like I said, I’m the one who pushed her to that in the first place. I was too much. Overbearing, or whatever.”

“Don’t make me bring out your middle name again, sir. I’ll do it.”

Marcus just rolled his eyes.

“Roll reversal, Marcus. Let’s say you were married to a wonderful woman who gave you her all.”

He scoffed. You shushed him.

“No interruptions. Quiet. Let’s say this wife gets a new job because you didn’t think the one she loved paid enough to support you.” You held your hand up to silence the start of his protest. “Ah, ah. Theoretical, Art. Roll reversal, remember?”

His eyes rolled, but nodded for you to continue.

“So she gets a new job that puts her in danger on the daily. Still passion-adjacent, so she figures ‘at least she’s got that’. And then you meet some other woman at some country club you insist on having a membership to and you refuse to work like this is the freaking fifties because she’s the breadwinner and you’re the absolute worst.”

Marcus’ eyebrows had shot up. “Wow. You really didn’t like Ashley.”

“No, I didn’t. She was a shitty person and a worse wife. Stop interrupting.”

He shook his head. “You’ve made your point, Lance. She wasn’t right for me. I didn’t pick well there, either.”

You placed your hand on his knee again and gave a soft squeeze. “The point I’m trying to make, Marcus, is that you’re  already worthy of love exactly as you are. You deserve someone who’s going to support you in everything, just like you’d do for them. You’re also allowed to feel used, Marcus. Ashley used you to get herself into a specific station so that she could live a charmed life. Teresa used you to show the man she actually wanted what he’d be missing. Neither of those relationship failures are your fault. You are the kindest man I know. You deserve to have your love returned tenfold. You more than anyone I know. It breaks my heart that you’ve had to deal with these horrible women.”

He gave you a sad smile. “Come on, Lance. They aren’t horrible.”

“Just because you choose to see the good in people, doesn’t mean I have to. And to be quite frank about it, if I ever see either of them, I will be throwing the first punch, I don’t give a damn. I’ll go to jail. I don’t care. They broke your heart, they can go through me.” You crossed your arms over your chest and mumbled, “Bitches.”

Marcus barked out a laugh and you smiled.

“And that’s why you’ll always be my Lancelot. I know you’ve got my back.”

Your smile dropped for a moment, but you plastered another on and placed your right fist over your heart. “Always, my king.” You dropped your hand and just sat smiling at each other, and for a moment, it felt like you were kids again, just playing a silly game.

“Alright, Art. I’ve got a hankering for pancakes, so I’m going to call Bob & Edith’s and order some. I swear, they’re the best here. I’ll go pick them up and then we can chow down, yeah?”

“Sounds like a plan to me, Lance,” he said with a yawn.

You knew he wouldn’t be awake for much longer, so you decided to just hold off on the pancakes, but walked into the kitchen anyways. You busied yourself by cleaning out the tea steepers and dumping the water left over in the kettle.

“On second thought,” you called, “I know I’m tired. I’m sure you’re exhausted. So I think I’ll just hold off until we can go sit in together.”

When there wasn’t a response, you turned the sink off. “Marcus?”

You walked down the short hallway and came back into the living room to find that Marcus had fallen asleep on the sofa. His long legs were stretched out taking up all of the space, and he still had the blanket wrapped loosely around his head and shoulders. You grabbed another to drape over his body. 

Standing above him, you gently ran your fingers through his hair. He let out a satisfied hum, but didn’t stir.

“There’s another thing that I didn’t say, Art,” you whispered. You didn’t have the courage to say it to him while he was awake, but you needed it said out loud. “Watching you pick these women who only want to break your heart is torture for me. I have loved you for so long, and they have just hurt you. I wish they could have seen you like I see you. You’re such an incredible man, Marcus. You’re so kind and selfless, and so, so handsome. You make me laugh. You indulge me in late night pancake runs. I just wish I would get the chance to show you the love that you deserve.”

Marcus shifted a bit, and you paused your hand working through the curls on his forehead. When he didn’t wake up, you continued. “I know I’m not who you want, though. It’s not ever going to be me. I’m okay with that, I promise. I will just keep quietly loving you because you’re the best man I know and you deserve it. Sweetheart, you are worth so much. I hope one day you can find someone who appreciates and loves you like I do. I really, truly hope so. You really are the sunshine of my life. You already mean the world to me. I love you, Marcus.”

You leaned down to place a soft kiss on his forehead and then turned to head back to your room.

When you woke up the next morning, Marcus had left, but he had written a note and put it on top of the folded blankets he had used.

Your neighbor came over to see if you could help move her new couch in. If you need me, I’m over at Agnes’.

Making your way over with a Tupperware of scones you had made, you heard Miss Agnes chatting Marcus’ ear off.

“It’s been so nice having that sweet girl next door. She always indulges my whimsy.”

Marcus laughed. “Mine, too, Agnes. For entirely too long. I’ve known her since we were two, ma’am. She’s had to put up with me for years.”

You knew if you walked in, you’d see her hand on his shoulder. “That’s certainly not the way she puts it, my dear boy. That girl is enamored with you. I’m glad to see you’ve finally come to your senses.”

There was a deep sigh. “I was wrong for not talking to her for so long. I was mad, but she’s my best friend, so that’s not an excuse.”

Miss Agnes’ chuckle was breathy and her chair creaked as she sat down in it. “It was like her heart had been ripped out for weeks. You can’t leave the love of your life stranded like that, young man.

“Love of- no, Agnes, I think you’ve got it wrong. Lance and I are- we’re just friends. We’ve been friends since we were kids. Friends. She’s not the l- we’re just friends.”

Rather than let Marcus flounder and also have him casually break your heart without knowing it again, you walked into the room. Marcus was sitting on the flowery print couch and Miss Agnes was sitting in her usual reclining chair across from him.

“Are you done with your interrogation, Miss Agnes? Can I have my friend back?”

“Oh, fine, sweet girl, but you need to promise me that you’ll be straight with this one.”

“I always am, Miss Agnes. I brought you some scones for your tea. I’ll leave them on the kitchen counter, okay?”

She gave you a pointed look. “Well I think he needs to know that-”

“Miss Agnes,” you gave her a small shake of your head. “Please.”

Her sharp eyes stayed on you and she raised her eyebrow, but didn’t say more.

Marcus looked between the two of you with furrowed brows. “Okay, well, it was good to meet you Agnes. I’ll probably see more of you, now that I listened to reason.”

“Not all reason, boy, but enough. Keep thinking about what I said. The both of you.”

With both of you back in your home, you turned back to him with a smirk. “So what had she talked to you about that she wanted you to think about?” you asked, as if you hadn’t had your heart stepped on by his response.

“Oh, uh. She was just under the impression that we were more than just friends. Or maybe that we should be. I don’t know what she was saying, for the most part. What was that look you two shared at the end there?”

You brushed it off with a shrug. “Oh, Miss Agnes just likes to tease me, that’s all.”

Marcus hummed like he didn’t fully believe you, but he didn’t push it.

“Well, I’ve got to go to the office today, so I’ll see you later?”

You smiled. “Of course, Art. Text me your address. I’ll bring you some dinner?”

Marcus reached over and pulled you into a hug. “That would be great. Thank you, Lance. For everything.”

“Of course, bud. Any time, you know that.”

With a wave, he was out the door.

•

The decision to take the undercover case in Dallas was not an easy one.

He knew it would be a relatively easy case, but the prospect of seeing both Teresa and Jane was… daunting, to say the least. Marcus was over his anger at Teresa. He still had the lingering sadness of the ‘what if’, but Lance had helped him see that she wasn’t right for him in the first place.

He’d been off since the night he’d apologized to her. He could tell that she knew something was up, but he also knew she wouldn’t say anything about it until he did.

The truth was, he’d been awake when she came back out to her living room that night. He hadn’t meant to deceive her like that, but he knew from experience that she would have been embarrassed if he’d given away that he was actually hearing what she was saying. And he couldn’t believe it. Lance? In love with him? It didn’t add up.

And that’s why he’d been off. He didn’t know where his head was at. He’d had a crush on her his freshman year of high school, but that was it. He’d never actually considered her as a romantic partner, and it was throwing him for a loop. How the hell was he supposed to say that he wasn’t interested in her. Did he even need to say anything at all? They’d gone this long as just friends, they’d be fine, right?

But more importantly, what if he was wrong, and she was exactly who he actually needed? What if the butterflies he felt every time he looked at her were real? Lance helped him slow down, helped him breathe. She was the eye of his storm, whenever he was out of control. She knew when to apply pressure and when to leave him alone. She’d been the person he turned to when he was at his most broken.

What if Agnes was right, and she was the love of his life?

All of that was running through his head as he bent over Teresa’s desk to leave her a note saying he was happy for her.

“Uh, excuse me, can I help you?”

Marcus stood with a sigh. “Jane.”

“Pike, hello.”

He turned toward Patrick and then shifted back again. “I was, uh, looking for Teresa.”

Jane came closer. “Yeah, I’m sure she’s uh,” he looked around the glass-walled office. “I’m sure she’s around here someplace.”

This is weird, Marcus thought. “Yeah, she probably is.”

“Beard looks good.”

“It’s for an undercover thing.” It felt like they were at the start of some measuring contest and all Marcus could think of was Lance’s voice saying ‘that asshole clairvoyant guy?’  He shifted his weight to the other leg and decided to hell with it. He wanted to know. “So it’s, uh,” he smiled at Patrick, trying to show he wasn’t angry. “You and her.”

Jane walked closer still. “Yeah,” he looked down and at least had the decency to look guilty. “I’m sorry, we didn’t intend for it to happen like this.” Jane took a breath and Marcus had to look away from him. “I know it was the last thing on her mind, the idea of hurting you.”

Marcus wanted to laugh, because he knew that wasn’t the case. Asshole clairvoyant rang in his head again. Jane couldn’t have given a care less, and Teresa’s goal was to show Jane what he’d miss.

“I know,” was his response instead. “I know that.”

Asshole clairvoyant. “So do you have a plan?” He crossed his arms and stepped away from Teresa’s desk.

Jane rolled his eyes and looked away. “I don’t really understand.”

Asshole clairvoyant. “Well, I was offering her a life, a home, a family if she wanted it. A future. Have you thought about any of that?” Marcus knew the answer was no, but he wanted to hear Jane say it.

“I haven’t thought that far ahead, yet.”

Marcus hummed and furrowed his brows in mock thought. “Well, what are you offering her? I mean, other than,” he gave Jane a once-over. “Patrick Jane?”

Marcus turned at the sound of footsteps approaching.

“Hey.” Teresa looked spooked, like this was the last place she wanted to be.

Jane looked up at him with a smug twist of his lips. “Excuse me.” He walked over into the hallway, far enough away that he wasn’t in the conversation, but close enough that he’d be able to hear it.

Asshole clairvoyant.

Marcus looked down at Teresa and sighed.

“What’re you doing here?”

“I was upstairs giving a deposition, and uh, thought I’d say hi,” Marcus looked away. “Stupid idea,” he said with a sad chuckle.

Teresa responded with a nervous chuckle of her own. “No, it’s fine.”

She still hadn’t actually looked him in the eye. He looked over at Jane and watched him angle his face away like he wasn’t listening in. “Anyway, it’s good to see you, Teresa.”

“You too, Marcus.”

“Jane.” Patrick nodded back at him.

That one tense conversation was all the closure he needed. Teresa was never his, Lance had been right about that. She had been right about a lot of things. The ‘what if’ brought the storm of butterflies back to his stomach. He walked out of the office with a smile. For maybe the first time in his life, he knew the next time he gave his heart away, it would be safe. He needed to have a conversation with his best friend.

•

Two months after ‘the absurdity’, as you and Marcus had taken to calling it, he had to go back to Dallas for some work thing. He had grown out his hair and beard, said it was some undercover job. You were a little worried for him, knowing he’d have to be back in the Dallas office with Teresa and that clairvoyant guy. He told you he’d be fine, and you hoped that was true.

You hadn’t left your studio in almost seventy-two hours, but the wall sized landscape you were working on was almost finished. Marcus still hadn’t been to your studio, and that was fine by you. You’d started a portrait of Marcus because Jenny had asked you to paint something personal to get back to “your emotional roots”. Whatever that meant. Marcus being out of town and not coming to your studio meant that the portrait could sit out undisturbed while you made slight changes to the oil paints.

Jenny knocked and let herself in. “Okay, love, how’re we doing?”

You stepped back from the landscape. “Done with this one. I’ll let it sit for a week or so, see if anything needs to be layered over after it’s dried, and then it can head to the gallery. What do you think?”

Jenny hummed as she looked up at it. “It's difficult to enter into this work because of how the disjunctive perturbation of the purity of line endangers the devious simplicity of the essentially transitional quality. With regard to the issue of content, the disjunctive perturbation of the spatial relationships brings within the realm of discourse the distinctive formal juxtapositions. I'm troubled by how the mechanical mark-making of the emotional signifier visually and conceptually activate the remarkable handling of light.”

You paused and took a steadying breath. “Jenny, what in the blue blazes are you talking about? You sound like you’re talking out of your ass. Would you have said all that bullshit to Bob Ross? It’s just some happy little trees and a majestic mountain.”

“As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t have. But I’m not Bob Ross’ agent. I’m yours.”

You scoffed. “That doesn’t mean you can make up critique-y phrases. If it’s bad, just say it’s bad.”

“Oh, whatever.” She turned to the smaller piece to her left. “Is that portrait the one I asked you to do? The personal project?”

You tried to school your features so they wouldn’t soften too much at the sight of Marcus’ profile. “Indeed it is.”

Jenny looked at you with wide eyes. “Whoa, do you have a boyfriend I don’t know about?”

Your eyes snapped back to her. “No. Why would you think that?”

Jenny chuckled. “Well, if that reaction wasn’t enough, this is a pretty… striking portrait, babe.”

“I’ve just known him my whole life. That’s all that is, Jenny,” you said, still trying to deflect.

She hummed. “Then I may ask him out when I see him. He’s quite handsome.”

You swallowed and tried to collect yourself. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess he is. I could, uh,” the lump forming in your throat was making it difficult to speak. “I could introduce you, or whatever.”

Jenny’s eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms. “Girl. Just tell me the goddamn truth.”

You threw your arms up. “What do you want me to say, Jen?! That I’m in love with my best friend and have been since the second grade when he climbed a tree to get my teddy that a big kid had stuffed up there? That no man will ever measure up to him because he’s everything I’ve ever wanted? That it kills me to think of him with someone who isn’t me, but also kills me to know that it’s my reality? That Marcus will never love me the way I love him because all I’ll ever be to him is his fucking Lancelot?!”

Your chest was heaving after yelling most of that at Jenny. A dry sob clawed its way out from your chest.

She uncrossed her arms and engulfed you in a hug. “Oh, sweetie. I’m sorry. I was teasing, I didn’t think. I’m so sorry honey.”

Jenny patted your back and pulled away. “Why don’t you go home, hon? You haven’t showered. Have you even eaten anything?”

You looked away from her disapproving face. “Dry granola,” you said sheepishly.

“Girl. Go home. I’ll clean up here. Go get yourself cleaned up. Make yourself something to eat. I’ll be by in a couple hours to make sure you’ve actually taken care of yourself, okay?”

“Okay, Jenny. Thank you.”

“No worries, babe. Can’t have my star’s light dim, can I?”

•

Marcus pulled up to Lance’s studio with a stupid smile on his face. He wasn’t sure how this was going to go down, but he knew he needed to tell her he was in love with her. He’s not even sure when it started, only that hearing what she said and listening to Agnes made him realize what was in his own heart.

He pulled the door open to a quiet, well-lit room. The windows were large, so it lit everything in the most wonderful natural light. There was a massive landscape painting directly in front of him that was stunning. The mountain was towering over him like the real thing would, and the oranges of the autumn leaves were a beautiful contrast.

He heard footsteps behind him, but didn’t turn to face them. “You’re so talented, Lance.”

He looked around the studio, and his eyes landed on a portrait of himself. He couldn’t remember this ever being a picture that was taken. It was his profile, and he looked a little sad. He’d never cared for his nose, always thought it was too prominent and made him look like a bad guy, but she’d taken so much care in painting it. He could see the emotion in his painted eyes.

“When did you know you loved me?” he asked quietly.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever known, because I don’t actually know who you are.”

Marcus startled at the voice that was definitely not his best friend. He turned quickly to find a small Asian woman looking at him with bright amusement.

“Sorry, I, uh. Who are you?”

The woman laughed. “I’m her agent, Jenny. I sent your Lancelot home about an hour ago. She’d been here for three days straight with only dry granola in her system.”

“That sounds like her,” he sighed. He held his hand out. “Marcus, by the way.”

Jenny shook his hand and smiled. “Oh, I’m well aware.” She gestured to the portrait. “I wanted her to paint something personal. She’s been in her own head a lot recently, hasn’t tapped into the emotion she usually uses to paint. It’s in that one, though, don’t you think?”

Marcus looked over at it again. He’d never really considered himself a very handsome man, but he certainly felt it right now. The way she had captured his likeness… “For sure. She’s a brilliant artist.”

“And she loves you a great deal.”

Butterflies erupted in his stomach again. “It was nice to meet you, Jenny, but I have to go.”

She just smiled and waved him out the door. “Make sure she actually eats something.”

•

After you’d gotten home, you decided self care was actually in order. You washed your face and put one of those weird face masks on. You poured a glass of sweet red wine and sank down into a hot bath filled with a de-stress bath bomb Jenny had given you. You turned on your audiobook of Pride and Prejudice and settled in.

About an hour and a half later, the Bennets were talking to Mr. Collins about Rosings Park when you heard a noise in your kitchen. Assuming it was Jenny coming to check on you, you unplugged the bath and toweled off.

With your hair stuffed in a cotton t-shirt and your robe secured around your middle, you stepped out into the hall.

“Sorry for my meltdown over Marcus earlier, Jen. It’s been a particularly rough season in our friendship. And I think he knows, now, that I’m in love with him, because-”

You rounded the corner and stopped short.

“Well, if he didn’t, he does now,” Marcus joked.

You felt the dread settle on your lungs like smoke you’d inhaled. Your eyes closed. “Oh, god,” you whispered. “What’re you,” you swallowed hard and fought the bile rising in your chest from the amount of dread you felt. “What’re you doing here? I thought you were going to be in Dallas for another three days.”

You couldn’t see it, but you could hear the smile in Marcus’ voice. “They didn’t need me anymore. Got done early. I stopped to see your studio. Met Jenny. She said you hadn’t eaten anything, so I let myself in to make you dinner.”

You rubbed a hand over your face, and still hadn’t opened your eyes to look at him. “That’s nice of you, Marcus. Unnecessary, but nice, thank you.”

“When did you know?” he asked quietly.

“Know what?”

You could hear the smile in his voice again. “That you were in love with me?”

Your eyes snapped open and fell on a shit-eating grin. “There’s no need to be cruel. I will smack you across the face, Marcus, I’m not even kidding.”

He said your name and reached up, but you took a step back so he couldn’t touch you. His brows furrowed and his hand dropped. “It’s a serious question. Please indulge me?”

You shook your head and turned away, feeling the beginning of tears fill your eyes.

Marcus cleared his throat. You could hear the scraping of a wooden spoon in a pan. “The first time I realized that I am fully, truly and completely in love with you, I was standing in the office of the fbi’s special crimes unit in Dallas having a conversation with the man who took a woman I now know never actually loved me away.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“But I think what really got me thinking about it was knowing that my best friend has harbored feelings for me for, seemingly, a long time, and even though it must’ve broken her heart, she was always there when I needed her.”

You turned to face him again. He looked into your eyes and gave a small smile. “The truth is, I think I’ve been in love with you for a lot longer than I have even realized. You’re everyone’s comparison. Even Ashley, thinking back on it. You’ve always been it, Lance. It just took me a while to see it. I’m sorry.”

You let out the breath you’d been holding and brought the heels of your palms up to your eyes. “This isn’t some type of sick, joke, is it? I’ve never known you to be cruel, Marcus, so don’t start now. Please.”

He took a step closer and gingerly took your forearms in his hands. When you moved your hands away from your face, he dropped your arms and brought his hands up to your face to brush the tears away.

Marcus whispered your name and tenderly stroked your cheek. “Agnes was right. You are the love of my life. I’m so sorry it took me so long to figure that out, sweetheart.”

“You have to be serious about this, Marcus,” you whispered back. “You’re it for me, and if you decide you don’t actually want me, it’ll break me. I won’t recover, and neither will our friendship. So I have to know you’re sure.”

The slow smile he gave you was filled with reverence. “What do you want me to say so you’ll know that I’m serious?”

You pressed your lips together and shook your head. “I don’t know, Marcus.”

He let out a soft sigh. “How about this?” He took your hands in his and stepped closer. Marcus whispered your full name as he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against yours. “We’ll go at your pace, sweetheart. I know you’re skeptical that this is real for me, so we’ll go as slow as you need. I’ll wait for however long it takes for you to trust this. I trust you. I know you’ll keep my heart safe. And I’ll do my very best to reassure you that I’ll keep yours safe, too.”

Marcus tilted his head to leave a soft kiss on your forehead.

“So, my dear, sweet, wonderful, beautiful, lovely friend,” he pulled back to look in your eyes. “Can I take you on a date and get to know you?”

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but him asking to get to know you definitely wasn’t it. You chuckled. “Get to know me? Marcus, you’ve known me since I was three years old. What else is there for you to know?”

He grinned and glanced down at your lips. When he looked back up, he lifted his eyebrows, asking silent permission.

With your slight nod, he leaned closer. “There’s so much to learn, Lance. What makes you smile,” he tilted your chin up and kissed below your ear. You let out a soft whimper and he smiled. “What inspires you,” he kissed the underside of your jaw. “What makes you feel like the most important girl in the world,” he moved up to kiss the tip of your nose. “What makes you cry,” he kissed your forehead. “How I got lucky enough to have a woman as wonderful as you love me.”

Marcus paused long enough for you to open your eyes to look into the deep brown of his. “How to make your knees weak.” He brushed his thumb along your cheekbone and whispered, “How to kiss you properly.”

He looked back down at your lips and waited. You knew he wanted to give you the time to pull away if you weren’t ready to take that step. You had waited so long to kiss him, though. You had wanted it for so long that you were a little afraid that if you didn’t kiss him, you’d never have the chance again.

He glanced back at your eyes and smiled. Just as he moved to give you space, you closed that distance. Your lips met his with an almost desperate passion. You brought your hands up to cradle his face, and he moved his around your torso to pull you closer. He brushed his tongue against your bottom lip and you let him in.

The two of you stayed like that until the oven timer went off, startling you into separating. Marcus rested his forehead against yours again.

“Dinner’s ready,” he laughed.

You chuckled and let go of him to grab dishes, but he tightened his hold. “I love you,” he said, looking into your eyes. “I love you, and I will wait as long as you need me to. You already mean the world to me.”

Your breath caught in your throat again at his reuse of the words you said to what you thought was a sleeping Marcus two months ago. He gave you a quick peck on the cheek and turned back around to turn off the timer and pull whatever he made out of the oven.

“So is this what I can expect for my relationship with Marcus Pike?”

He looked at you with a small smirk on his face. “A relationship, huh? I thought I’d have to take you on a date, first.”

The heat in your face was immediate. You’ve loved him since you were seven, of course you wanted a relationship with him. But he was right, there was no need to rush this.

“Well, a date would be nice, I guess.”

Marcus’ smile softened. “I’m just teasing you, Lance. I plan on romancing the hell out of you for as long as you’ll let me.”

“You’re a loony.”

He set the baking dish on a hot pad and turned to mime drawing a sword. “The black knight always triumphs.”

You hummed and matched his smile. “The only time you ever let me be King Arthur was when he faced the black knight. Did you just like having me pretend to cut all of your limbs off?”

Marcus chuckled and a light blush spread across his cheeks. “It always made you laugh. So yeah, I guess.”

“That’s it, right there.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you.

“That’s how I fell in love with you. Those little things. You gave up playing your favorite character just because you knew it would make me laugh.”

He blushed deeper and looked bashful.

“I’d follow you anywhere, Marcus.”

“You won’t have to. Because whatever happens, it’ll be together.”

Together.

You liked the sound of that.

•

Everything was planned out. The two of you had gone to Bob and Edith’s for breakfast pancakes in the morning, you’d gone to the Smithsonian to see the O’Keefe exhibit they’d just brought in, and then you decided you’d have a little fun with it and go to a wine and painting class together, completely ironically. You’d secretly flown both of your parents in, and his sisters decided they wanted to be there, so they came in, too. The wine and painting would be just the two of you, and then they’d all come in and be there for the big question itself.

What you weren’t ready for was the instructor to recognize you, and ask you to lead the staff and Marcus in a painting.

“Well, this is really just something fun for my boyfriend and I to do together, I’d rather-”

Marcus put his hand on your shoulder and drew your attention to him. “How often does an opportunity like this come around? It’ll be fun, Lance.”

You sighed and closed your eyes. Damn him for being able to talk you into anything. That’s how two dogs and a cat had found a home in your shared townhouse. “Okay.”

The instructor squealed and rushed to hug you. “Oh my god, this is going to be great! Can we do a mini version of that mountain in autumn one you did last year? Please?” Her please was drawn out long like she was a kid asking for ice cream.

“Yeah, that’s fine, I guess.”

“This is going to be amazing! Okay, I’ll set everything up, you don’t have to do a thing except walk us through your process.”

Marcus ran his hands down your arms. “I know it’s not ideal, but you’re giving them such a cool experience. How often do they get to have such a legitimately professional painter show them how they work?”

“That’s not- I mean, sure, but there was a plan, and it’s getting messed up, and-”

“Breathe, baby. It’s just a silly date night. We’ll have many more, my love.”

You glanced over his shoulder and saw your family silently filing into the shop. The panic you felt suddenly multiplied.

“Why are you so upset about plans changing? You’re usually okay with a bit more of a go with the flow date.”

The instructor came out from the back room and looked past the two of you. “Oh, I’m sorry, this is a private party.”

Marcus turned to look at who they were talking to.

“Mom? Dad? What are all of you doing here? Not that I’m not happy to see you, but...”

Your dad nodded for him to look behind him, and when he turned, you were already knelt down.

“I have loved you since I was seven years old when you climbed the tree at the park to get my teddy that Blake Jones had thrown up there down. I loved you while you loved someone else, twice,” you winked at him. He had tears gathering in his eyes. “I will love you for as long as I’m breathing, and I’m sure long after that, too. You already mean the world to me. And I figure it’s about time you’re the one getting romanced. So, Marcus Alexander Pike,” you opened the black velvet box to reveal a simple platinum band, “Will you marry me?”

He looked up at the ceiling and chuckled as a tear fell. “Of course I’ll marry you.”

Your family and the staff cheered as he pulled you up from the floor. “I love you.”

You took his hand and slid the ring on his finger. “I love you, too, Marcus. With everything I have in me.”

And as he leaned in to kiss you, you knew your heart was full. That this man was everything you’d ever wanted, and you knew he wanted you right back.

TAGS: @seasonschange-butpeopledont @plexflexico @din-damn-djarin @dirty-dancefl00r5 @cinewhore @aplaceofpeace @just--a--snail @thecrystalgempearl @mrschiltoncat @campamcam @littlevodika @keeper0fthestars @greengrassandcyansea @uncomicalhumour @agentpike @yespolkadotkitty @chaotic-noceur

[darkpoisonouslove]

Sparks of Life Opera Edition

I am still not over Singing a New Tune so I am going to recap for you the experience of writing that fic because there were many interesting moments over the course of those three days. Lemme start from the beginning.

- So I’m writing a fic that mostly focuses on sexual stuff but it is also mainly happening in an opera so my first order of business is to figure out what that opera is. Both the building itself and the show they’ll be watching. Because that is of utmost importance.

- I have already mentioned that SoL is located in New York so I looked up New York operas. I do not vibe with research most of the time but I vibe even less with having to come up with names for any kind of thing so research was definitely the choice here.

- I somehow get results about operas that are in the other end of the USA. That was not great. I get to the Metropolitan Opera House at last (which I might have known existed if I cared about opera in any way, shape or form) which is great! I am so close to starting the fic! Just need to figure out what opera they’re watching. Because I need that for reasons.

- I end up downloading a PDF with the seatings inside the Met Opera so that I can figure out where the hell they will be seating. But I leave that for later. I look through the actual plays that they’re having while absolutely failing with the navigation of their site. I find a show that catches my eye. It’s called The Magic Flute. I have zero idea what it’s about so I read the Wikipedia summary just to be aware. It mentions that a character has a moment when he’s singing about his search for a wife and I think “Perfect! Foreshadowing!” (since this is set pretty early on in Griffin and Valtor’s relationship).

- I decide to look up the opera and see if I can find a part of it on youtube to figure out how it will sound. I am pretty sold on it already because of the summary I read and also because it implies there is magic as a subject in it which would call back to canon. Still, I look it up. I find a full version of it on the internet with English subtitles... It is 2 hours and 35 minutes:

- “Wow, okay... that’s a bit much. But hey, it has got subtitles in English. Maybe I’d actually watch that... once I’m done with the fic. I’m just gonna listen to a little bit while I finish my research, though, so I can have an idea of what it sounds like.”

- Now it’s time to open the engagement fic - Enough to Be Yours - because I don’t remember what year they got engaged in and I need that to reverse engineer the year in which this fic is taking place so that I can make sure that The Magic Flute was being performed back then. I don’t have an year stated in the engagement fic, though. I have a date - 9th October which is Friday and that means the year is 2015. Great! So I need to figure out if they were performing The Magic Flute back in 2010. Great.

- That takes a shit ton of time and nerves as it turns out. I spent over 4 hours just researching the logistics for this fic and a lot of that was unnecessary but I’m getting ahead of myself.

- I cannot find out whether they were performing the Magic Flute in 2010. I get results of it being broadcast in English (for the first time, I believe) in 2012 but that is way too late for this fic to be happening. Also, they are speaking of a broadcast which just doesn’t work for me. So I am having a hard time over here.

- I find a list of the new titles in 2011 but nothing mentions The Magic Flute as far as I can see.

- I am now considering switching to another opera. I see an opera that is based on events from The Song of the Nibelungs (I cannot be assed to go back and check what the actual title was). That catches my eye because I have read a book that was titled The Ring of the Nibelungs, I believe, and I kinda remember stuff from it... which is what makes me hesitate because that was a big tragedy.

- Meanwhile, I have stumbled upon a trailer for The Magic Flute:

MY GOD IS THAT BEAUTIFUL! THOSE PROPS ARE FUCKING GORGEOUS! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN THAT YOU GET TO GO AND SEE THAT LIVE? THAT IS NUTS! (Also, when I mentioned paper birds (I think they are) in the fic, I meant the ones shown in 0:13, not the big one in the beginning but HOLY SHIT, DID YOU SEE THAT THING????? HOW IS THAT REAL?!?!?!?! IT IS SO FUCKING AMAZING!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I CAN’T. I AM DYING. THIS IS JUST TOO BEAUTIFUL.)

- I somehow happen upon an old archive of the opera (idk how I did that but I bookmarked it in case I’ll need it again) that has information about plays going back as far as the year 1900. This is nuts! I am in too deep but I can’t pull myself away. I’ve gotten this far, I will see it through.

- I search for keyword “flute” and I get results. Some of them are pretty old but I finally find what I need. Performances of the Magic Flute in 2010! Bingo!

-  ...Oh, wait, they’re all around Christmas and New Year’s Eve. Hmm... when will it be okay for them to go? I mean, Valtor has been established to have zero free time around that time of the year and I can’t see them going on the 24th or the 31st... Oh, those are matinees. Definitely no! I need them to go in the evening. And some of these are broadcasts which doesn’t work for me either.

- I looked up earlier years as well. I considered another opera again. I decided to switch up the timeline a little. It makes sense if it’s in 2009. I think they had spring performances of The Magic Flute then. Or was it 2008? Anyway, I finally settle on an early April date in 2009 (I think). Now that that’s settled, let’s go back to the seats.

- First I need to figure out what floor (let’s say) of the opera they’re on. I was thinking of the last one first (family circle) but the boxes (I figure those seats will be safest for their activities) look like this:

which isn’t vibing with me because they would be in the front row and it seems more visible. So I relocate to the previous floor (balcony) that looks like this:

That works a little better although there’s the danger of having more people in their box. But they’re sitting in box 14, seats 5 (Griffin) and 6 (Valtor) (where the arrow is pointing) and there’s only one man in seat 4 in front of them. So that is the best I can do.

- Wow, all that’s finally figured out. I decide to do all the rest of the research up front in order to be able to just write after that and not stop for another 4 hours. More on those other things later BUT I get to the part where I need to pick a vibrator and... well, I done fucked up.

- First thing that comes up for a remote controlled vibrator is Lush, of course. And I am immediately sold because it has a sound activated setting which Valtor will definitely love to utilize while in the opera.

BUT

Lush 2 (which is the first one to have the sound activated setting, I believe) came out in 2018. Even if we accept that Lush also has it, that came out in 2015. My fic is set in 2009. Searching for 2009 vibrators literally went no where so in the end I decided that the SoL verse is actually set in a parallel universe where time is a little warped so the Lush 2 is out in 2009. Plus, that way there isn’t going to be a pandemic in future installments. Overall, that works. Except that I needn’t have been so thorough with my opera research beforehand. Oh, well. It’s finally time to start writing.

- How do you write? How do you start a fic? One word in front of the other? Oh, okay, never mind. Lipstick is a girl’s best friend. Let’s start from there. And a kiss that leads to the discussion of lipstick... Damn, I forgot to spend one more hour on researching what kind of lipstick Griffin would have worn. Shame! You don’t get that detail now. I believe I didn’t even mention a shade.

- Oh, wait. Need for his breath to taste like something. Hmm, let’s see. Tonic water? Yeah, that sounds about right. Never mind that he should have probably drunk it right before getting out of the car to kiss her if it was still lingering on his breath. I mean, that’s not impossible. Just improbable.

- He’s also wearing cologne, right? Gotta research that too. How else would I get this:

and zero idea what it actually smells like despite the description. Also, did not check if that was a thing in 2009 but the story now exists in a vacuum so who cares.

- Apparently, Griffin doesn’t own any golden bracelets even though she does have a golden necklace? Or she could have a golden bracelet, just not one she likes for the current situation? Anyway, I wanted to mention Ediltrude as well because the twins always go together and that was the best I came up with. (That said, I didn’t need to put the mentions of them one sentence apart.)

- My god, I used a semicolon! That feels illegal. I sure hope I used that bitch correctly.

- Okay, I absolutely love all the banter and just flow in the car. Idk how I did that since it’s such a constricted space but I am really proud of it. However, the logistics were sometimes hard to logic my way through. I mean, Valtor doesn’t get to look at her a lot and I had to employ a red traffic light to give him the chance to do so.

- I hit a wall about three paragraphs later. Things started going in a weird direction. I was considering even deleting the last two lines but then I managed to get back on track thanks to having figured out how they met and I decided to write a little bit about that without spoiling it (that will be a fic of its own some day). Suffice it to say it was a meet-very-ugly. But it bailed me out. Also, they got over it so it’s all good.

- And now... that paragraph. You know which one I’m talking about. It stands out with the locations I’ve given. That paragraph required 30 minutes of looking at Google Earth to figure it out and I still nearly got it wrong. At that point it occurred to me that they’ll need a place to park. I mean, idk how parking is in NYC but it’s probably not the way it is in Bulgaria especially on small neighborhood streets where it’s just... park wherever (even in front of a garage if you’re brazen enough and don’t fear having your tires slashed). So first, I was going to have them coming down Tenth Avenue and passing by the backside of the Opera which is not ideal for me because I needed Griffin to figure out they’re going to the opera so that they can have the following dialogue. But there is the New York Public Library of the Performing Arts right next door so I figure Griffin will recognize the area if it’s next to a library. And I have them almost at the garage but... that’s not looking right. This garage is on 65th Street and mine is on 62nd... I have been looking at the wrong garage for the past hour. Now that I have caught that mistake, things get easier. They just drive right past the facade of the opera, take a right turn and then enter the garage. Easy peasy. For whoever’s actually paying attention to the map.

- They’re in the garage now and I have to write another kiss. Shoot! I do not vibe with writing kisses. Writing sex scenes is much easier. But I’ll try my best because this is a little bit necessary if we’re dealing with an insertion of a vibrator in a public bathroom one minute from now. (Again, logistics!) I actually went back to add in a little discomfort during the kiss (but not too much because they’re consumed with each other anyway and probably missed something) just to make it more realistic. They can’t be comfortable in the car. Also, you have got to love how I never even thought of what make the car is. But I did stop to research the tinting of the car windows.

- Now this is extremely funny but I would have had zero idea that there are different laws about how tinted your car windows can be in the USA if I hadn’t read a very extensive critique of Fifty Shades (whichever part it was that had that info). So I look up the VLT for New York and it says 70%. Great! Then it won’t be that visible through the windows what they’re doing inside. Oh, wait! VLT means Visible Light Transmission aka 70% of the light should be passing through the window. Aka it is only tinted on 30%. This much:

That’s practically nothing. You can see everything through it. Welp, then someone’s gonna see, I guess.

- Can’t believe I didn’t stop to look up clutches either. (Lmao, I was calling it a purse instead of a clutch at first even though I definitely meant a clutch. And then I remembered that clutch existed as a word. Who would’ve thought?) It’s baffling trying to figure out why my brain was prioritizing some details over others and I just genuinely have no idea what was going on.

- Griffin is blushing a lot in this. Can you tell I have no idea how else to convey Valtor giving her feelings through body language?

- I first envisioned the box being opened by the hair pin by turning it like a key. Only later did I realize that that wouldn’t be possible because the pin has two parts (whatever they’re called) and that would make turning it impossible unless all of the base fits into one hole in the lid of the box. So I had to adapt my vision to using the extensions at the ends of the hair pin like a hook that pulls the lid up once it’s clicked free. I have zero idea how that would be done but I’m sure it can be done. So yeah, anyway, the pin looks like this but with attachments at the ends to open the box:

- I might have gone a little overboard with Griffin’s reaction to having the vibrator inside her. I might have made her a bit too embarrassed but I still think that she simply wouldn’t appreciate someone knowing about what she considers a private experience (despite the very public setting).

- And I am being overly specific again with the seats but I worked for that information so you’re getting it against your will!

- Speaking of, that man in their box was pretty ignored throughout the fic. But then again Griffin wasn’t overflowing with lucidity. She is sure to have missed... A Lot, actually.

- My apologies (once again) to @her-majesty-wears-jeans​ for not letting Griffin punch Valtor in the face for the terrible pun he was about to make but I thought that that would ruin the mood so I had to skip it.

- I might have imagined things a little differently but then consent factored in and I had to change things up so that Griffin is clearly on board with everything. I hope it came through that way at least. She is on board even if she is very, very frustrated. She would never throw the bet just because it’s difficult for her. Though, I’m taking note for future fics of maybe being a little bit more explicit about the enjoyment of all parties involved. I just couldn’t really think of a way to convey it better back then and I am coming up with several ideas now and I will try to keep them in mind for future fics.

- I keep going back and forth on just how far into their relationship this is. Sometimes it feels like it’s not enough time for them to get this familiar with each other and sometimes it feels like too much for them to still be skirting their feelings for each other like that. Will update when I make up my mind about how long exactly it has been.

- In retrospect, probably should have picked up an opera that people would be less likely to bring their children to (as brought to my attention by @her-majesty-wears-jeans​). I apologize for this. Did not consider it at all.

- A wild tangent about Griffin’s sexual experiences before Valtor popped up (for the second time now). This is giving me thoughts and I am not even sure if I’ll manage to get them all out in the bachelorette party fic. Oh, no, I am getting ideas again.

- God, I had to mention those paper birds because I adore them. Also, needed to do a time skip somehow (sure hope they don’t show up at the very end or the very beginning).

- So there are some things about the whole thing with the suit jacket that if you squint, you’ll miss the very far-fetched and convoluted ways in which I could make them make sense but again, it isn’t impossible to make them operate according to logic so good enough.

- And now for the dress:

I thought it would be reasonable for Griffin to own something like that. It doesn’t look overly expensive or dramatic.

- I swear that most of the 2% angst was an accident. Griffin was supposed to say the “You paid how much for tickets exactly just so you could fool around?” line but the following few paragraphs sprang on me out of nowhere. That was where I left it off the first day I was working on it and I wasn’t sure how to continue it. Then the angst happened.

- I do not believe the retaliation part was planned but would it really be a Griffin x Valtor story if something like that hadn’t happened? XD

- “reverberated”, “multitudinous” and “unobtainable” are probably not words that Griffin’s muddled mind would go to in that precise moment but everything else I came up with for them just did not sound right.

- I completely forgot the word for neckline and was so mad at myself for that but, luckily, I managed to remember it before posting the fic. I believe the original read “he slipped a finger under the fabric of her dress, running it over the top of her breast” which is not incorrect but just not precise enough for my liking.

- Sure hope the shortened version of the opera did not cut out the ending musical sequence. But that seems unlikely.

- The idea was running overly long in my head by having them going back to the penthouse so that I could have the scene where he picked her up so I decided to move things around and have him carry her bridal style on their way from the opera to the car. It’s not like she didn’t earn it.

- Pretty sure I had planned something a little different for the last several lines of dialogue but I couldn’t remember what so we get this. Which isn’t a disadvantage. I mean, Griffin is already thinking of marrying him. XD (That’s probably a bit of a stretch at the current status of their relationship but then again, she was thinking of a wedding, not necessarily of their wedding even though I’m clearly a little romance gargoyle that meant exactly that.)

- Originally, Valtor was supposed to floor the brakes while they were out in the NYC traffic but then I decided that doing it while still in the garage with only one car behind them and both vehicles driving at a very slow speed was a lot safer so I switched to that. It also saved me writing more words which was appreciated. I thought this fic would be a bit shorter.

- I was at a loss for how many orgasms Griffin should want from him but then the commitment line happened and that was all avoided.

[acciomalfoy]

Head Boy (Bill Weasley x Reader)

Summary: Once Bill Weasley gets Head Boy there’s only one thing stopping you from talking to him - the Head Girl.

My parents pushed a letter into my hand as I was about to board the train, and my mum hugged me.

“We’re so proud of you, honey. Remember to owl us.” I hugged her back in confusion.

“Wha-“ Dad cut me off.

“We love you, stay safe.” Then I was on the train and they were gone. I opened the envelope and pulled out the letter with a Hogwarts seal. I read the parchment in my hand, and reread it. I was returning as a Gryffindor prefect. I stared at the headboys name, and I bit my lip. I had been trying to avoid Bill Weasley, on account of me having a massive fat crush on him. I was already seventeen, and I knew his birthday was in a couple months. If Bill was Head Boy, then maybe it was time I finally grew up and confronted my feelings.

“Salazar!” I swore when I saw who was Head Girl. It was a ghastly girl who shamelessly flaunted her “love” for Bill, and I knew I wouldn’t get a single slot of rounds with him. Of course, I didn’t want every round with him, but a couple would be nice. We were already decent friends, but my giggling friends had ruined the last several conversations we had. I knew it was a mistake to tell them.

“Hey, Y/n! Did you forget you were a prefect?” Bill popped out of nowhere, and I gasped.

“Bill!” I held a hand against a wall to steady myself, and he laughed. Godric, that laugh.

“You better get changed now, we have a meeting. I’ll wait for you.” He nodded towards the bathroom and I nodded.

“Sure. Thanks.” I toddled into the bathroom to get changed, and when I emerged he was leaning against the wall of the carriage, deep in thought.

“Oi, William!” I clicked my fingers in his face and he blinked.

“Finally, I thought I was going to turn to dust before you came out. Come on, meetings started.” He linked an arm with mine, and I felt a tingle of electricity run up it. We walked into the prefects room and took a seat at the back. All the heads of house were there.

“Welcome back, prefects! As you all know, Catherine Rawlings and William Weasley are head girl and head boy, making them in charge of organising rounds. If you are unable to complete rounds, you are to talk to them about it. If they find your reason implausible, or not worthy of changing the schedule, then you are able to pursue the matter with us.” McGonagall beamed proudly at all of us, and I couldn’t help but smile back. When I looked at Catherine, I saw the smug look on her face. Bitch.

“Now, did anyone lose their badges over the break?” Two hands went up, and I raised mine. It really wasn’t my fault. My cat is very temperamental.

“Honestly L/n, what am I going to do with you?” McGonagall smiled at me, and I took the badge she offered me.

“Thanks Professor. You know as well as I do how much Charlie hates shiny things.” She nodded, knowing my cat even better than I did.

“That I do.” She walked back to the front of the room.

“Alright prefects, you’re free to go.” Bill met my eyes, and the second he stood up McGonagall shook her head.

“Mr Weasley, as head boy you’ll be staying behind to sort out the rounds. Miss Rawlings, that’s you too.” Catherine swung around to smile at Bill, and I realised she had something green in her teeth. Serves her right.

“Bye, Bill. See you in the hall.” I waved before I left, feeling quite bad for myself. I found the carriage Bethany and Gabbie were in, and settled down for the long train ride. After a gruelling couple of hours, we arrived thanks to the magical train. My back was throbbing as I stood up, and Gabbie shouted in surprise when she tried to stand up and her foot was sleep.

“Help!” She yelled at she fell instantly. Bethany and I cracked up laughing as we stared at her on the floor, and we left without helping her. We could hear her shouting obscenities, and we laughed as we stepped off the train.

Once again, the magical view took my breath away. As I stared up at Hogwarts, stark against the pink sky, I was hit by the realisation that this was the second last time I would ever see this view. Things were never going to be the same, and it hurt.

“Bye, Beth. Gotta go catch the first one.” She nodded at me as I ran forward, her eyes also set on the view in front of us. I weaved in and out of students, some of them yelling my name, others glaring. When I reached the front, I saw Hagrid.

“Hagrid! Any room for me?” He laughed when he saw me, amid petting thin air.

“Have you ever been on time, Miss L/n?” He stepped aside to reveal a spare seat in Catherine and Bill’s carriage, and I laughed out loud. I really couldn’t help it.

“Thanks! See you at Hogwarts!” I waved at him as he set our carriage off and I looked at Bill.

“Fancy meeting you here, Weasley.” I held out a hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, L/n. I trust you enjoyed the train ride?” We shook hands, and then dissolved into laughter. Small things amuse small minds.

“Anyway, why didn’t you speak up earlier Bill? We could have adjusted them.” Catherine butted in, and Bill stopped laughing.

“I forgot.” He rubbed his neck, and I knew he was lying. He winked at me, and I tried not to laugh.

“What’re you laughing for? Got something to say?” Fucking hell, is it a crime to laugh?

“I didn’t realise laughing was forbidden.” I glared at her, and she glared back.

“Any chance of me getting my schedule early?” I looked at Bill with my best puppy dog eyes, and he looked away.

“Nope. You’ll get it as soon as we get there. We have to have a quick meeting to discuss the new rules, new house passwords, and schedules. Wait, do you want to choose our password?” Bill asked me excitedly. I gasped.

“Bill, that’s hardly appropriate-“ The bitch tried to butt in, but we ignored her.

“Yes! Holy shit! Can I make it nugget?” It was perfect. Reminded me of the crisp, tender chicken nuggets at home.

“Like, the gold?” Bill was confused, and I gasped.

“You mean, you’ve never had a chicken nugget?” It hurt to think that he hadn’t. Definitely something I would bring him from Christmas at home.

“No?” I shook my head.

“Doesn’t matter. That’s what I want the password to be.” Bill nodded.

“Okay, that’s settled. I was dying trying to think of a password. Way too much pressure. Hey, we’re here!” The carriage pulled into Hogwarts, and I was too busy being pleased with myself to stick the finger at Catherine.

“I’ll help you down.” Bill got out first, and he extended a hand to me.

“Such a gentlemen.” I smiled at him and climbed out with his assistance. We kept walking, ignoring Catherine’s shout.

“Oi!” We laughed as we entered the castle.

“We’re meeting here.” Bill stopped beside a pillar off to left of the main entrance, and I stopped with him.

“Can nugget really be the password?” I asked, hoping to Godric it was true. Bill laughed, and my heart soared.

“If you want it to be, then it will.” I smiled at him, and he smiled back.

“Thanks a lot.” Apparently Catherine didn’t how to be anything other than a massive bitch.

“For what?” Bill held up a peace sign, and I snorted.

“Regardless, L/n, your schedules being swapped already. I decided to take up an apprenticeship that contradicts my rounds.” Why she had to tell me that, I had no clue, but Bill stiffened.

“At least let her see it first.” Bill said quickly. Catherine shrugged.

“Sure, but it isn’t hers anymore. It’s mine.” Cow. Other prefects joined us, and McGonagall handed out our rounds. When I looked at mine, I saw I was with Griffin for all of them. Every last one. Fuck.

“I’ve swapped with Griffin.” Bill whispered in my ear, and I gasped.

“But I’ve swapped with you. Here’s your new one.” Catherine snatched mine out of my hand to give me hers. They were all with Bill, which was Griffin. When I looked at them, I realised something.

“Sorry, Catherine. I can’t do these. I take level four potions during these.” I tried to take mine back, but she pulled it out of reach.

“You’ll have to get rid of it then.” Bill raised an eyebrow.

“Give Y/n her rounds.” Catherine glared.

“No. They’re mine now.” Bill walked away, and Catherine smirked at me. Annoying bitch. Bill returned with McGonagall in tow.

“What seems to be the problem?” She asked, looking at the two of us.

“Catherine is trying to swap rounds but I can’t do hers and she won’t give me mine back.” Try me bitch. I don’t have a problem with being a tattletale if it’s to her.

“Is this true, Miss Rawlings?” Catherine sputtered.

“No! I was merely comparing rounds. Here you go, L/n.” Catherine handed back my sheet, but she was glaring. McGonagall left, and Catherine stuck the finger up at me.

“Watch yourself, Catherine. Wouldn’t want the title of head girl taken from you.” I blew her a kiss before Bill pulled me into the Great Hall, laughing.

“Thanks, Billy. Ready for all our rounds?” I ruffled his hair as we sat down at the end.

“Do you know why we have every round together?” Bill asked me, and I shook my head. I was grateful as Helena to Slughorn for offering me advanced level four potions classes, because without him I’d be good as gone.

“It’s because I like you. A shit ton. And Catherine’s a cow and she keeps trying to get me alone, but I don’t want to be alone with anyone but you.” I almost laughed at the thought of Bill being horny, till I realised what he said.

“What? You’re serious?” He nodded, and I smiled softly.

“I like you too. I’m so glad I don’t have rounds with Griffin. I almost shitted myself when I saw.” He pulled me in, and we hugged as students filed in.

“So,” I started.

“So,” He let go of me, and we stared at each other.

“Are we dating?”

“Can we please date?” I took one of his hands. It was almost double the size of mine.

“We may, kind sir.” We laughed, and I couldn’t imagine being soulmates with anyone else.

[luvrpop]

the end

source: the devil all the time part: one/? pairing: arvin russell/reader requested: no tws: n/a (canon typical in later parts but this ones safe) word count: 1652 synopsis: you make some bread, and contemplate finality. extra: i wanted to challenge myself to write a reader insert without using y/n et cetera!! im so excited for this, and very proud :) Someone once told you that there is nothing in life that isn’t a beginning or an end. You’re not quite sure what you think about that, but you figure there must be some sense of truth to it. Hell, you reckon that if those words are true every damn thing you do is the beginning of the rest of your life. This train of thought will come back to you later.

For now, you wake up in the morning to begin your day, and eventually you’ll sleep at night to end it. 

You open your dresser to begin looking for your outfit, and close the dresser to end that search. Naturally, you’ll put on your clothes to begin wearing them, and take them off at some point to end that.

You open the window in your kitchen to begin a steady flow of fresh air, but you won’t get a chance to close, and thus end, it.

Later, all the beginnings you started and endings you caused in the coming few days will become viscerally apparent to you. You’ll wonder which one is more important; those beginnings or endings? You’ll wonder if that matters at all. It probably doesn’t.

Currently, you are kneading the dough that you began only 15 minutes ago for a loaf of bread that you’ll never get to eat. Your radio plays quietly in the corner of the kitchen and you sing along, finding a rhythm in your movement. You feel as though you could live in this moment for the rest of your life and stay happy the whole time. But of course, the song ends so another can begin and your timer goes off to tell you’ve kneaded enough, and the tranquility of the moment slowly dissipates. You wet a towel and delicately place it on top of the lump of dough, and set it into a bowl and aside to begin it’s second hour of rising. That means that you have an hour to yourself, and you resign yourself to laundry. It gets boring pretty quickly, however, so you resolve to finish this load and continue a book you started reading last week. 

You’re only a few chapters from the end. You like it well enough- the characters are charming and the plot is compelling- but the pacing of it all is what’s really losing you. It started as a decent slow burn character study into the mind of a troubled woman that tragedy followed like a shy dog, which you find interesting. However, at some point it seemed like the author was as swept up in the world as you were and was caught off guard by the need for an ending. The past few chapters have been a rushed attempt at a satisfying conclusion, and the original message of the story has been lost. The woman started out as thoughtful and resilient, despite the shit life kept throwing at her. You like her a lot. At this point in the book, though, things should be calming down. They aren’t. 

You pick up the book where you left off, and immediately it seems to be trending in an unnecessarily painful direction. You wouldn’t dare tell anyone, but you definitely prefer a happy ending. The appeal in watching decent people suffer for nothing is lost on you. It makes it difficult to ignore the more uncomfortable truths of the town you live in. 

By the time you’ve gotten to the last chapter, your timer is going off again, letting you know that it’s time to move your dough from under the towel and in the bowl to the oven. You leave the book open on the counter (it stays, because you accidentally broke the spine when you first bought the book. Your best friend chided you for getting as upset as you did. “There are bigger things in life to worry about than a 50¢ paperback novel, darlin’.” He had said.) and stand to wash your hands. The front door opens and closes as you turn on the water, and you call out a greeting to your father. There is no reply while you move the dough to a pan, and you wait a moment before calling out again. This time you get an answer,  though the voice that responds is not your father. A smile creeps its way onto your face as you slide the pan into the oven and close the door. 

Something you’ve noticed about Arvin Russel is the way he refers to the people. It’s never “good afternoon,” or “thank you,” or “how are ya?”; it’s always a “good afternoon miss,” or “thank you ma’am,” or “how are ya, sir”. He calls his sister Lenora little lady or hun; his grandmother is grandma or ma’am; his grandfather is grandpa or sir. Friends are bud and fella, and enemies are any number of vile swears and adjectives. You’re doll or darlin’, and you have been since you found him hiding behind the school back on the first day of sixth grade. It’s common down here in the south to call people anything but their name whether it be from respect or the opposite, but even as a child Arvin seemed to actively avoid using someone’s name unless he was saying something that he needed you to know he meant. Most people figured he was just some overly respectful kid, but you’ve always suspected that he just understands the power of his words. As you got older, you got the sense to wonder why a kid so young seemed to know so much about power and violence, both mental and physical. You’ve heard the rumors about why he moved to Coal Creek in the first place, but it never came to you to just ask if they were true and what living in Knockemstiff was like. You never considered it your business. 

That’s all to say that when Arvin Russel greets you by name in your kitchen at 3:30 PM on a Saturday in the fine year of 1965, your hand stops on its way to the kitchen timer. A quick glance at the clock confirms that Arvin has work in 10 minutes, and you know that you live a solid 15 away from where he needs to be. You turn to face him, apprehensively studying the way he sits on a stool on the opposite side of the island that divides the room. He sits with a slump that shows an extent of exhaustion that seems deeper than the physical body. You wonder if someone’s soul could yawn. He seems like he hasn’t been able to relax all day, and even now there’s tension in his shoulders. Not to mention that his breathing’s uneven and he’s sweating like a sinner in church, so you decide to dampen a washcloth before asking any questions. He looks at you in such a way while you dab at his damp brow that chips away at your heart. He’s looked haunted since you met him, like Satan himself is dancing in his peripheral, always 3 steps away from finally claiming his soul, and you wonder for a moment if he’s always fought the devil all the time.

“Christ almighty Arvin, what happened t’you?” You ask, blotting away at his forehead.

His eyes snap into focus at that, like he’s remembering something, and he pushes out of his seat, snatching the cloth from your hand. “We gotta leave, doll,”

You look at him incredulously. “What in the world? You sit yourself back down and tell me what is goin-”

Arvin interrupts you by saying your name again. “I mean it,” he says, and you believe him. “You got- you got to get on packin’ and we gotta leave.”

“I’m not packin’ anything until you tell me what the hell is goin’ on, Arvin Russel. I mean it.” You say, and he believes you.

Unfortunately, you’ll come to understand that he doesn’t have the time to explain. 

The two of you have fantasized about skipping town more times than you could count. A couple of times, you even packed your bags into the back of Arvin’s jalopy before school, planning on picking up Lenora and never looking back at this shithole. You were serious about it too, your father and whatever spends its time haunting Arvin giving you more than enough motivation. Still, you stayed. Arvin would say he’d miss his grandmother, which was true, but you both knew it wasn't what Lenora would want. After she died, Arvin swore he should have said damn it all and left anyway.

When he makes eye contact with you again, you know whatever is happening now is different than your idealized life on the run. Every time you planned this, you both swore you’d do it all together, and that included choosing the right time. Arvin was so particular about choosing the right time. Now, it seems that whatever he did that you two are running from didn’t have a right time. It just had to happen, and he was tired of waiting. A sense of dread nags at you perversely, and you know suddenly and without a doubt that if you don’t go with him now, you’ll never see him again.

He drops the rag then and leaves the kitchen with a sense of urgency you’ve never seen, and you tear after him. You meet him in your room and you both throw together two bags of your bare essentials. You’re out the door and shoving the bags into his trunk before you even get a chance to turn off the oven.

It won’t be until you’re leaning your head on the passenger window of Arvin’s automobile, speeding past the sign that cheerily reads You are now leaving Coal Creek! We hope to see you again soon!, that you will realize that you forgot your book at home. 

[dripkingpetey]

love-e.pettersson

ive been working on this for a few days and im kinda proud of it! would love some feedback from you or requests for other story lines, i promise i’ll stop doing the friends to lovers storylines haha. i also accidentally deleted this and i was so sacred i couldnt get it back but here it is! i hope you enjoy.

*lowercase intended!*

2.2k words

he loves you, you know that right?

“why did you drag me here, i really don’t like hockey and you know that.” you said as you sighed to your bestfriend lucie while she pulls you down to your seats in rogers arena. 

“i know you don’t.” lucie said with a bright smile on her face. “but, you’re gonna learn to like it.” you look at her in confusion. “so, this is your way of torturing me as if you don’t already torture me enough by bringing me to parties.” you said while sitting down and looking at the players who are starting to get on the ice. “maybe.” lucie said with a wide grin and a mischievous look on her face before puck drop starts.

you’ve never been big on hockey, which is surprising considering you have lived in vancouver your whole life and your family is super big hockey fans. you also aren't the most extroverted person. sure, you’d go out to bars sometimes but mostly just with your close friends.

“what part of this sport do you even like?” you said as the game is going into the third period the canucks are now up 4-1 against the opposing team which you don’t even really know who they are. “well, if I’m being honest some of them are really hot but mostly cause of the sport.” you scoffed at her response. “none of them are hot from where i can see.” lucie looked at you with a shocked look. “oh you’ll get it once you get to know the players more.” you give her a confused look and put your full attention back to the game.

-

canucks ended up winning the game 5-2, lucie was very happy about it and you could tell cause she wanted to go out for a couple drinks and you didn’t want to say no so you agreed to go.

you had been at the bar for about twenty minutes and lucie was already gone which isn’t surprising, she was probably sleeping with some guy right now.

you started to panic a little when a creepy old dude came up to you and started hitting on you. “hey pretty girl, want to come home with me?” he started putting his hand on your arm which was resting on the table. you look around for lucie in panic but she’s no where to be found. 

you then feel a pair of arms sneak around your waist and you get even more freaked out. 

“hey babe, sorry i was gone for so long.” elias says to you with a smile but then proceeds to give the creepy dude the alien death stare which worked. after the dude leaves elias faces you and starts speaking. “sorry i touched you like that, it looked like you were alone and that guy was creeping you out so i thought you could use some help.” he shoots an apologetic smile at you. 

“its okay,” you give him a smile back. “thank you a lot actually, i have no idea where my friend went.” you take another look around the bar before looking back and him. 

“i’m elias by the way.” he smiles at you while holding his hand out for you to shake it. “y/n.” you say before shaking his hand. 

“so elias, what are you doing in this bar on a thursday night?” you gesture for him to sit down next to you. “if i told you, you wouldn’t believe me.” elias lets out a soft laugh while sitting down across from you. “tell me, i wanna know.” elias sighs lightly before he starts speaking again. “i’m with them,” he gestures over to brock, jake, quinn, thatcher and troy. you look over to see them all waving at you and laughing at elias, you laugh softly and wave back at the before turning your attention back to elias. “ah, so i’m guessing you’re on the canucks?”

elias lets out a nervous laugh. “yeah, why don’t we go somewhere else where the boys aren’t up my ass?” you take another sip out of your drink. “i would love to.” he holds out his hand for you and as you guys walk out you can hear the guys chirping, but when you look over to elias you can see him giving the death stare to the boys and it makes you laugh. “you have a scary death stare jeez.” elias leads you to his car. “that’s surprisingly what the fans love me for.” he smiles at you before opening the car 

door for you.

-

“…and that’s all what led me to being on the canucks.” elias said to you while eating a chip out of the chip bowl you had prepared. it had been a couple hours since you guys left the bar and went back to your apartment, you don’t know why but it felt like you and elias had such a strong bond already that you both felt like you can talk for hours and hours and never get tired of each other, he felt the same way too. “jeez, i kinda sound like a douche. i’ve been talking about myself all night, please tell me more about you.” elias said to you while you laughed at his words. 

“it’s all good, i’ve been the one asking questions anyways.” you smiled while responding to him. “no seriously, tell me something about you before i have to go which i really don’t want to by the way.” 

you look at the time and realize its almost twelve am so you proceed to give him a quick response. “well, i’ve lived in vancouver my whole life. and i’m currently going to ubc as a nursing student.” you smiled at his now very amused face. 

“see, that’s something i wouldn’t have known if you didn’t say it,” he laughs a little before he finishes his sentence. “can i get your number? i have practice early tomorrow morning but i’m free for the rest of the day if you want to hang out.” 

you smile at his words and take his phone from him. “of course you can, i’m free tomorrow too just give me a call.” you said while handing his phone back to him after you’ve entered your number. elias gives you a wide grin and you both get up so you could walk him to the door. “goodnight elias.” you look up at him with a smile as he’s standing in the doorway. “goodnight y/n, sweet dreams.” he said and then started to walk down the hallway towards the elevator. “pettersson!” you called out at him and he turns around confused. “text me when you get home.” he gives you the thumbs up and you close your door and head to bed. 

no ones ever shown this much attention to elias before, at least no one he’s truly cared about. 

he smiled to himself on his drive home cause he was excited to text you again.

*contact name changed to “y/n<3”* 

text message to y/n<3:i just got home, thank you for the awesome night :).

-

it’s been a couple weeks since you and elias had met at the bar, you basically hung out with each other anytime you could. 

you were each others best friends at this point, sure the guys would make fun of elias for being in love with you but you couldn’t see it, elias knows he has some feelings for you but he wasn’t sure about it yet. he also didn’t want to risk the amazing friendship you guys had started.

“hey, are you coming to the game tonight?” elias asked over the phone to you.

you let out a sigh before you start speaking. “i’ll try, schools been really hard lately but i should be able to finish studying tonight.” elias could hear the tiredness in you voice and it hurt him to see you like this. “y/n, its okay. you don’t have to try and make it, focus on school its way important. you have many more games of mine that you can watch.” he left out a soft chuckle at the end of his sentence. 

“i’ll still try though, i’ll give you a text if i can make it.” you said to him as you looked at the last large text book you had to read through and look at the giant pile of coffee cups surrounding your desk. 

“okay, love you, i gotta go.” “love you too e, good luck.” you both quickly exchanged goodbyes as you started reading your last text book. you knew there was no way you were going to be able to make it to his game tonight and you felt really bad, you sighed it off as you put your attention back to studying and occasionally looking at the canucks game that was now playing on your tv.

-

the game had ended, canucks lost by one but petey is a sore loser so obviously he was sad, which made him show up at your apartment, he brought pizza from your favourite place downtown.

you were passed out on the couch though, which resulted in elias having to pull out his spare key and sneaking into your apartment.

“elias?” you mumbled out as you felt him sit next to where you were laying on the couch, he motioned for you to lay you head on his lap and you did.

“hey sleepy girl, i brought our favourite pizza.” he said to you with a smile. no matter how bad of a day elias was having, you could always make him smile.

you positioned your head so you’re now facing up at him and you give him a big smile. “thank you, can we snuggle and watch a movie?” elias starts rubbing your cheek softly. “of course we can y/n.”

the night ended with you and elias falling asleep on the couch together while watching a movie he had picked out, you both forgot about all the stress from today and just enjoyed the moment.

-

“he loves you, you know that right?” brock said to you as he came by and sat next to you.

it was the start of summer, tanev decided to host a little barbecue for the whole team before everyone left vancouver and went back to their home towns for the summer.

you were sitting in the backyard watching elias talk to huggy. “what?” you said to brock with confusion. “no he doesn’t.”

brock scoffed at your response. “dude, you can’t be serious. how do you not see it.”

you thought about what brock said for awhile before you gave him a response. “does he talk about me?” you looked at brock while taking a sip of your drink. 

“does he talk about you? of course he fucking does y/n, all the time. especially when you don’t show up to our games, it’s worse when we’re on the road.” 

you smile to yourself at what brock said.

-

you were quite tipsy by the end of the night and elias didn’t want to let you go home alone, so you spent the night at his place.

“elias?” you said in your sweet drunken tone as you both settled into his bed, and you faced your body in his direction. 

“yes?” he said while playing with your hair softly. 

“brock said something to me earlier,” you said while pulling your body close to his.

 “of course he did,” he said with a sigh. “what’d he say this time?” 

“apparently you talk about me a lot?” you said with a soft laugh and your fingers now tracing up and down his back.

“yeah, yeah i do. i talk shit about you all the time.” he says sarcastically knowing where this conversation was going.

“hey!” you said as you playfully punched him. “i was going to do something but i guess not anymore.” you said with a huff.

he lifts your chin up to face him. before you knew it you guys were kissing each other, it was a soft, long and sweet kiss.

elias pulled away with a big grin on his face and you did too. you talked to each other for the rest of the night, you ended up falling asleep before elias did but he did too shortly after.

you woke up to the smell of elias making waffles, you hugged him from behind and he didn’t even notice you were awake until you did that.

“it smells really good,” you said to elias before kissing his cheek and begging for him to hug you. 

he pulls you into his grip and whispers in your ear. “do you wanna go to sweden with me for the summer?”

you look up at him with slight shock. “yeah, why not.” you said to him with a smile and he gets very excited and spins you around, you kiss for awhile until you smell something burning and you pull away.

“shit.” elias mumbles as he deals with the burnt waffles and you’re both laughing your asses off.

[charmingradiobelle]

Into the Wilde

Meet (Not So) Cute

There are many steps of a hustle. The first one being that you have to have the confidence to actually do it. Not a lot of mammals I know have the guts to try. But when you're like me and you've been doing it since you learned how to talk, it basically becomes your whole personality. My lifeline is based on tricking other animals to get what I need so I can sell my product and earn some money. At first I wasn't proud of this, but now I've gotten used to it after 20 years.

Today's just another day of work for me. I'm going to meet up with my business partner, Finnick, at an elephant ice cream parlor to scam our way into getting a giant popsicle. Then we're going to resell it as our own branded "pawpsicles", and to earn some extra cash we'll sell the leftover sticks to some construction workers, maybe some rodents. It sounds convoluted but it's worked so far. I don't see why today should be any different.

Right about at noon, I make my towards the ice cream parlor known as Jumbeaux's Café. Sure, the place is meant for bigger animals, but that's the point. We need the biggest popsicle we can get so we can melt it down to smaller sized treats. And so no one suspects us, we have the perfect story that's sure to fool the owner.

As I cross the street, a Fresh Doe truck drives right past me, nearly running me over. I look back at the ram driving it, and he shouts at me to watch where I'm going. What an asshole. Eh, I expected him to blame me for it. Everyone in Zootopia's always blaming the fox. That's just how it is.

Moving on, I walk in front of the café, but I have to make sure no one's watching me. You can never be too careful with this kind of stuff. Once the coast is clear, I follow an elephant lady inside, and now begins the plan. I see Finnick waiting for me by the door, wearing an elephant onesie costume.

Finnick and I go way back. I've known him since I started doing this type of business. He showed me the ropes and was the first to suggest that we do this together. At first I didn't want to, since I was dead set on becoming independent. But after a few years I decided to accept his offer, since we could make twice as much money working together than by ourselves. Besides, what was the harm in having a friend? Well, we never exactly referred to each other like that, but that's pretty much what he is.

He walks past me to get in line, murmuring, "Let's get this over with." I follow him quickly and we make our way towards the front of the line, and since we're smaller than the elephants, no one notices that we cut.

The owner (I think his name is Jerry, so I'll call him that) turns around to take another order. He almost doesn't even see Finnick and me, so I have to call out to him to get his attention. He looks down at us, and I see in his face that he's not happy. I don't need to guess why.

"Can I help you?" He asks, eyeing me up and down. I get why it would be weird for a fox to buy something from a shop for elephants, but damn, he hasn't even heard me say anything and just assumes I'm up to no good.

"Yes sir, I'd like to buy a jumbo pop, please." I say politely.

Apparently I wasn't polite enough, since he just glares at me. I can tell he's observing my behavior very closely, so I try to stand still in the least suspicious way possible.

"Listen, I don't know what you're doing skulking around during daylight hours, but I don't want any trouble in here." He says. "So hit the road!"

Geez, if this is how he treats customers, then it's a mystery why this place has a four-star rating. But I want to avoid arguing with him, at least not aggressively. That would get me nowhere. I have to keep up an act. "I'm not looking for any trouble either, sir." I say in my own defense, "I simply wanna buy a jumbo pop," I gesture down to Finnick, who trots to my side. "for my little boy."

Yeah, the plan is to pretend we were a father and son. Acting cute and pulling on heartstrings is the best way to hustle, so that was our usual routine. I bend down to ask Finnick, "You want the red or the blue, pal?"

He walks up to the glass displaying the three jumbo pops. As expected, he points toward the red one. We always got red, it was just how we liked it and it always sold the best.

Jerry, however, just shoos him away with his trunk. "Okay, come on, kid. Back up." He looks down at me, "Listen buddy, what? There aren't any fox ice cream joints in your part of town?"

"Uh, no, no. There are, there are. It's just, my boy," I pat Finnick on the head. "this goofy little stinker, he loves all things elephant, wants to be one when he grows up."

Finnick pulls up the hood of his costume, which has the ears and the trunk of an elephant. It even has its own trumpet, which he uses now to emphasize my point. "Is that adorable?" I ask as he leans against my leg. "Who the heck am I to crush his little dreams, huh? Right?"

But Jerry isn't impressed. Honestly, he could not care less, it seems. "Look, you probably can't read, fox," He takes a sign and points at it with his trunk, "But the sign says 'we reserve the right to refuse service to anyone'! So beat it!"

Refusing service to someone because they want a jumbo pop seems extreme to me, but hey, I'm not a café owner. Still, we can't give up yet. We need that jumbo pop, and we have to get it one way or another.

"You're holding up the line." An elephant lady says as she pushes me from behind.

Finnick trumpets sadly and I rub the top of his head 'sympathetically'. We have to appear as cute and as sad as possible now, so maybe we can be pitied by Jerry or another one of the workers. But these elephants have no mercy. Great. Now how are we supposed to sell today? There aren't any other ice cream parlors that sell big enough popsicles that we can get in time.

Suddenly, I hear a voice from beside me. "Hello? Excuse me?"

I turn around to see a bunny speaking to the owner. She's wearing a hat and an orange mesh vest, so I guess she does parking duty. Why she's even here is beyond me, but I get the sneaking feeling it has something to do with me and Finnick.

"Hey, you're gonna have to wait your turn just like everyone else, meter maid." Jerry says to her.

"Actually, I'm an officer." She says, pulling back her vest strap to show off her badge. Huh, that's weird. I didn't think they let bunnies on the police force. Then again if she's doing parking duty, she must be new. Makes sense. Police work isn't meant for animals like her.

"Just had a quick question," She goes on, speaking a little louder. "Are your costumers aware they're getting snot and mucus with their cookies 'n cream?"

A couple elephants sitting nearby hear this, one even spits out his ice cream all over the other's face. I have to hold in a laugh.

Jerry looks down at her confused, "What are you talkin' about?"

"Well, I don't wanna cause you any trouble, but I believe scooping ice cream with an ungloved trunk is a class-three health code violation." The bunny says, "Which is kind of a big deal."

Wait, is she trying to help me? She might also be trying to help out the customers by not getting snot in their ice cream. But still, she just randomly shows up while I'm trying to buy a jumbo pop for my 'son'. It can't be a coincidence, right?

Jerry glares at her for a moment before she continues, "Of course I can let you off with a warning if you were to glove those trunks and, I don't know," She gestures for me to step forward, in which I oblige. "Finish selling this nice dad and his son a...what was it?" She whispers to me.

"A jumbo pop." I say, smiling up at the owner. "Please."

"A jumbo pop." The bunny repeats.

Wow, I honestly did not expect anyone to actually help us. I was starting to think our little ruse wasn't going to fool anyone. I almost feel bad that we're having to trick her, too.

Jerry sighs in defeat, deciding to give in. And I don't blame him. "15 dollars."

"Thank you so much." I say, then nod at the bunny. "Thank you."

But as I reach into my pocket, I'm surprised to feel nothing there. Or so, that's how it looks to the others. Of course I have my wallet with me, I'm not an idiot. It's just all part of the ploy. "Oh no, are you kidding me? I don't have my wallet!" I chuckle nervously, pretending to be frustrated with myself. "I'd lose my head if it weren't attached to my neck. That's the truth. Oh boy," I sigh and kneel down to Finnick, "I'm sorry, pal. Gotta be about the worst birthday ever."

I might have improvised that part, only to further guilt the animals around us. Hey, a fox has to have a little fun.

"Please don't be mad at me." I say, cupping Finnick's face in my paws, kissing his head. I know he hates that, but I have to do whatever it takes. I stand back up and take his paw. "Thanks anyway." I say sadly to the bunny before walking out of the line. I can feel Finnick trying to reach out to the jumbo pop, probably pouting like a child.

Before I can even walk out the door, I hear someone slam something onto the counter. Not to my surprise, the bunny pays for the jumbo pop for us. I'm surprised she actually fell for our little fib. She really is a rookie.

After we're given the red jumbo pop, the three of us walk outside the café. Finnick holds the bunny's paw while I carry the jumbo pop over my shoulder, surprisingly it's easy to lift. Just a few pounds heavier than myself.

"Officer, I can't thank you enough. So kind, really." I say to her, "Can I pay you back?"

As I get a better look at her, I catch a glimpse of something in her belt. It looks red, maybe pink-ish. But just from that one glance, I can already tell exactly what it is. I've seen it many times in my life. Hell, I'm used to seeing it almost everyday. Fox repellent.

Of course a bunny would be carrying that around. They were all afraid of us. But then why did she help me when she obviously isn't fond of foxes? I guess she's just trying to make herself feel better. Now I feel less guilty about tricking her.

"Oh no, my treat." She answers, releasing Finnick's paw. "It just— you know, it burns me up to see folks with such backward attitudes toward foxes."

Really? Then explain that fox repellent, two-faced meter maid.

"I just wanna say you're a great dad and just a..." She pauses to find the right words. "A real articulate fella."

"Well, that is high praise." I put a paw to my chest, deciding to play along. "It's rare that I find someone so non-patronizing. Officer...?" I ask, hinting that I want to know her name.

"Hopps." She tips her hat. Of course she has a last name like that. "Mr...?"

"Wilde. Nick Wilde." I hold out my paw, and she gladly shakes it.

I probably should've used a fake name so this can't be traced back to me. But I'm not worried. It's not like she's a real cop, anyway. And I'm not doing anything illegal, so it doesn't matter.

She bends down to look at Finnick, smiling widely. "And you, little guy, you wanna be an elephant when you grow up? You be an elephant. Because this is Zootopia." She pulls out a sticker from her pocket and places it on his chest. "Anyone can be anything."

Now I know she's not from around here. Anyone who actually grew up in Zootopia would know that that stupid saying doesn't mean jack shit. You can't just be whatever you want. God, someone needs to open her eyes and introduce her to the real world. Oh well, she'll figure that out soon enough.

"Ah, boy. I tell him that all the time." I say, then hand the jumbo pop down for Finnick to hold. "Alright, here ya go. Two paws!" He holds up the jumbo pop easily, probably better than me since he's actually stronger despite his size. "Oh yeah, look at that smile! That's a happy birthday smile! All right, give her a little bye-bye toot-toot!"

Finnick toots twice, and the bunny mimicks the sound with a small laugh.

"Bye now!" I say as I turn around, walking along the sidewalk with Finnick.

"Goodbye!" She says, but I don't bother to turn around to see if she waves. I honestly don't care less.

Well, that was a painfully long five minutes. But it worked. Now it's time to move into phase two of our popsicle procedure.

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Chapter 25 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream?

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)

Warnings: mentions of death, sexual assault

Important note: the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one.

~|Emily Fox|~

The boys and I have spent every waking hour together, working on music, working on the band. The dark void in my heart having been filled up by these three wonderful dorks and our music. While I’m building up my idea of a new future again, the boys have been building me up; giving me more confidence in my singing and my being. They supported me with every thought or idea I had about what college to go to or what idea I had for the band. Anything I said, the boys were 100% behind. It’s rewarding and refreshing to find a group of people to vibe off of so easily, especially after being a time apart and realizing how big of an impact they make on your life. It’s brought life back into a world that has crumbled apart. “That sounded tight, you guys!” I say, high-fiving Jeremy when we call in a break on rehearsals. “I can’t wait to play these songs live!” The boys chuckle while putting away their instruments or, in Owen’s case come from behind their instrument. “If we ever book a gig again,” Owen says solemnly. “Don’t give up hope, you guys. I’m sure we’ll book something soon,” I reassure them, and myself. Besides the Open Mic Night, we haven’t had the opportunity to play anywhere. Mostly because I was coped up in my room, crying all the time, and didn’t see the band for a good week. But you know… Still sucks. “Yes. You. Will!” Mitch’s voice resounds in the store. I hadn’t even heard the bell over the door ring; we were too busy chatting about gigs and rehearsals. “I think I might have a gig for you, Muffin.” He holds up a piece of paper, smiling smugly. “At the Orpheum,” he replies. I glance over at my bandmates to check if they heard it too. Judging by their bulging eyes and surprised glances, I’m sure they did. “Albeit it’s a school event, but you know… Still the Orpheum!” “What’s the gig exactly?” I ask, urging him to elaborate. “Bobby’s old school is holding a benefit. At first, they wanted to just do it in the school, but they booked a lowkey famous band and sold so many tickets, they can’t pack them all in the gym. And they’re looking for a band to open for them. You want me to make a call? I think you being Bobby’s niece will help us out a little.” I look up at the boys to see what they’re thinking. They’re eyes are sparkling like never before. The Orpheum has been a dream since they were Sunset Curve. “Please, try!” I tell Uncle Mitch. He grabs his phone and dials a number. The boys come closer to me as we watch Mitch in anticipation. We just hear a lot of ‘yes’ and hums until Mitch hangs up. “What did they say?!” I ask impatiently when he’s not telling us anything for an agonizing minute. Mitch almost looks upset, like he doesn’t want to disappoint either of us. “EMILY AND THE FOXES IS PLAYING THE ORPHEUM, BABY!!” He shouts really, really loudly. The four of us burst out into cheers and happy jumps and high fives. Without thinking twice about it, I grab Charlie’s face in my hand, staring into his eyes, and yelling, “THE ORPHEUM, CHARLIE!” When I realize how close we are, I slowly let go. For a while, we just look at each other until Jeremy and Owen make us snap out of the trance. That night, we celebrate in Jeremy’s garage with pizza, a movie and just each other’s company. My heart is full.

“Your VIPs are here,” Amanda, the showrunner, tells us as she knocks on the door of our dressing room. Today is the day; we’re playing a gig at the Orpheum. The gig we’ve been practicing all day and night for. “Come in!” I shout and get ready to greet Mitch, Madi and Charlie’s and Jeremy’s parents. Instead, I find my parents head in first, followed by two people I don’t know. They’re around my parents’ age. Neither of them seems too happy to be here either. “Mom? Dad?” I hear Owen say as he joins me at the door. “Surprise!” Madi and Mitch say at the very same time, showing off jazz hands. “Y—You… What? Huh?” Owen stutters and stumbles over his words, not sure what to say. I know they don’t have the greatest relationship either. He must be as surprised, if not more, as me. “Your Uncle Mitch called us,” mom starts with a small, careful smile on her face. “He caught us up on everything and told us about your show tonight…” dad continues. “We didn’t believe our little girl was playing the Orpheum!” I glare at my mother. “I thought you didn’t want to support my music career?” I ask, gritting my teeth. “We didn’t at first… But you have to know, Princess, we’re very proud of how far you’ve come,” says dad, placing his hands on mother’s shoulders. “Yeah, I came this far without you. Instead of you supporting me and believing in me from the start, I had to turn to my uncles. They didn’t choose to take care of me, but they did anyway. They love me and support me with everything I do.” Mitch gives me an appreciative smile. “I came this far because of Madi being by my side every single moment of every day I was angry and sad about my own parents not even loving me enough to be behind me 100%.” She grabs my hand and kisses my knuckles. “I came this far because of Charlie, Jeremy and Owen. They all became my family who supported me and cheered me up and comforted me because my own family couldn’t even do that for them.” I turn to Owen’s parents. “With all due respect, misses and mister Joyner, but your son is the most amazing and thoughtful person I have ever met. He’s been like a brother to me, and I can’t believe you as his family would ever do to him what you did to him. So, I’m sorry…” I turn back to my own parents. “But unless you’re all 100% behind us, I want you to leave.” “Emily…” Owen starts, but his father interrupts him. “No, she’s right, Owen. We should’ve been there for you and listened to you to learn about your world. We shouldn’t have reacted the way we did and we’re so sorry…” “We’re really proud of who you’ve become, Owen,” his mom chimes in, “Because you’re proud of who you are and everything you’ve achieved all by yourself. So, I hope you find it in your heart to forgive your old folks?” Owen glances at me, and after I’ve given him an encouraging smile, he launches forward and embraces his parents. My heart swells at the sight. “Emily…” my mother captures my attention. “Please, let us stay? We really are sorry for what we did to you. We should’ve never kicked you out. We should’ve never doubted you could make something of yourself. You’re part Mancini after all…” This is the first time she’s ever even slightly mentioned Uncle Robert. “I see so much of my brother in how you act and how ambitious you are… Please, let me just witness how you grow into a performer the way he did?” She sniffles, and that’s when I realize I’ve started crying too. I nod my head, granting them the permission back into my life, and the three of us hug. Mom holds me the way I wanted to be held so many times since the day she kicked me out. It’s nostalgic and rewarding. “What a sight this is,” Uncle Mitch says and when I look up, I find Charlie and Jeremy hugging their families too. For a while before the show starts, all of us hang out in the dressing room with our families. Luka, Owen’s sister has joined, as well as Jeremy’s two brothers. I’m glad I got to know all of them. Now, our Emily and The Foxes family has grown from the band-plus-Mitch-and-Madi to one big, happy family. Nothing can take this away from us now.

I take a deep breath, glancing over at our families in the front row, and after hearing Charlie’s “You got this”, I start playing the first notes on the piano to our new song. “Running from the past Tripping on the now What is lost can be found, it's obvious And like a rubber ball We come bouncing back We all got a second act, inside of us” The boys then chime in with their instruments as I grab the microphone, joining the boys to jam out with them. “I believe I believe that we're just one dream Away from who we're meant to be That we're standing on the edge of Something big, something crazy Our best days are yet unknown That this moment is ours to own” I turn from Jeremy to Owen and then to the crowd. I can’t look at Charlie yet. I know that if I do, I’ll want to kiss him, and we can’t have that. Got to stay professional. “'Cause we're standing on the edge of great” “On the edge of great” “Great” “On the edge of great” “Great” “On the edge of great” “'Cause we're standing on the edge of great” Charlie then takes the next verse whilst I walk out to the edge of the stage to interact with the crowd. “We all make mistakes But they're just steppingstones To take us where we wanna go It's never straight, no” I glance back at him as we sing together. He even gives me a little nod to beckon me to him. “Sometimes we gotta lean Lean on someone else To get a little help Until we find our way” Instead, I walk to Jeremy’s side of the stage, giving those people a bit of attention. “I believe I believe that we're just one dream Away from who we're meant to be That we're standing on the edge of Something big, something crazy Our best days are yet unknown That this moment is ours to own” I make my way back to Jeremy, dancing along to the rhythm he and Owen are giving me. “'Cause we're standing on the edge of great” “On the edge of great” “Great” “On the edge of great” “Great” “On the edge of great” “'Cause we're standing on the edge of...” I step onto the piano stool to give me a boost onto the grand piano itself. I crawl across, staying put on the edge as the boys and I go for the bridge together. “Shout, shout C'mon and let it out, out Don't gotta hide it Let your colors blind their eyes Be who you are no compromise Just shout, shout C'mon and let it out, out What doesn't kill you makes you feel alive Ooh-oh” Jeremy and Owen quit playing their instruments, and though we’d said this would be an a Capella moment for me, Charlie’s guitar riff surprises me instead. As I kneel in the middle of the piano, he makes his way over to me, giving me an encouraging smile. “I believe I believe that we're just one dream Away from who we're meant to be That we're standing on the edge of great” While I hit the high note, standing up onto the piano, the boys continue with the chorus. “Something big, something crazy Our best days are yet unknown That this moment is ours to own” We lapse into the chorus again, the crowd getting rowdier and cheerier with the second. This feeling right here is one I want to feel forever. With Charlie and Owen and Jeremy. And with Madi and Mitch next to me. The boys quit playing their instruments after the last chorus as I take my seat behind the piano again, securing the mic into the stand. To my complete surprise, I feel Charlie coming to sit next to me, and we sing the very last bit together in the same microphone. “Running from the past Tripping on the now What is lost can be found, it's obvious” As the crowd breaks out into a loud cheer, I can’t move anymore. All I can do is stay put and stare into Charlie’s beautiful hazel eyes that I’d missed so much. I inch closer. He inches closer. All the way until our lips touch in a soft, love-filled kiss. A kiss I’d missed for so long. “I love you, Emily Fox,” he whispers, his forehead pressed to mine. “I love you too, Charlie Gillespie,” I whisper back. Little do we notice my microphone is still on until the crowd bursts into even louder cheers. The both of us look up into the crowd first, then to Jeremy and Owen, who simply give us a proud smile, and then back at each other. He grabs my hand in his and leads me towards the middle of the stage where the boys join us too. Jeremy takes my hand, and Owen and Charlie hold hands too. The four of us take a bow, soaking in the feeling of the cheers at the Orpheum. We actually played the Orpheum. Emily and the Foxes. Me and my boys. Me, my two best friends and the love of my life. Forever. Together.

Taglist: @parkeret​​ @lukeys-giggle​ @gingerxarmy​ @lovesanimals​ @hannahhistorian92​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @thequirkybookaholic​ @ashleyleblancx​ @calamitykaty​ @lolychu​ @bookdealer5​ @tenaciousperfectionunknown​ @hemmingsness​ @siennanoelle01​ @iainttakingshitfromnobody​ @ifilwtmfc​ @luckylouiebug​ @kiss-themoongoodbye​ @camiladelrio98​ @myfriendscallmebeans​  @caitsymichelle13​ @thedarkqueenofavalon​

[thatsbucknasty]

she used to be mine (vi) waitress au

pairing: Y/N x Bucky

summary: inspired by the broadway musical. Y/N Beck is a pie baking force to be reckoned with. She’s pregnant with her lazy ass husband, Quentin Beck’s baby. As everything around her turns upside down, Doctor James Buchanan Barnes charms his way into her life.

a/n: we’ll get a peek of Bucky’s pov here. Hope you guys are still reading this, and sorry for taking so long to update.

chapter 6: a soft place to land

doctor bucky pov

-

I think I’m falling for her. The moment she walked into my office, holding that pie almost three months ago, I wanted to get to know her. I know I must’ve annoyed the hell out of her in that first encounter, I know I can be intense, but I couldn’t just refer her to a different person. I feel like we were connected, destined to meet. I’m a big romantic and I love how the universe works. I believe in my soul that we were not a product of coincidence or happenstance; maybe we’re not destined to be together but I’d surely love to just be her friend.

 Everytime she comes for an appointment I hope I’m cherishing her company as much as I should, or praising her talents because she deserves to know how amazing she is. And everytime I’m not in her presence I’m waiting  for the day I’ll get to see her again. Or hoping I’ll casually run into her at the market or in the street. Cause I’m stupid like that. Hoping some married woman, who’s also my patient by the way, will actually want anything to do with me. 

She’s sound asleep right now, and if things were different and she wasn’t in such a scary situation I might wish she’d wake up so I could tell her how beautiful she is to me and how much I want her to feel the same way I feel about her. But even if she’s had issues with that awful man, she’s still with him, so… I know it’s not going to happen and I’d just make a fool out of myself.

And where is that bastard anyway? His wife and kid are in such a vulnerable state and he’s nowhere to be seen! I swear if he comes here drunk, like she’s told me it’s his usual state, I’ll kick his pathetic ass. She deserves better than this. 

She listed a woman named Natasha as her emergency contact. A strange, scary woman indeed. She waltzed in here bossing everyone around, threatening to kill anybody who wouldn’t let her near her best friend. If I wasn’t scared for Y/N’s own life at the moment I might’ve laughed at all the interns she threw daggers at. The scary redhead went out to make some phone calls and get coffee, so it’s only me and Y/N, and the little nugget.

She looks so peaceful right now, so soft. I feel an incessant need to be near her and make sure she’s safe. Both of them really. It’s been a bad year for the both of us, that’s for sure. But all I care about right now is this woman, sleeping with an IV and a monitor by her side, and that tiny baby inside of her. I know they’re gonna make it just fine. I may be a little awkward and dumb when it comes to girls, but I’m damn good at my job, so for now, they’re both stable.

I’m falling for her hard. She baked me a pie and I couldn’t stop smiling once I was alone, just staring at it. The first pie she gave me wasn’t really for me, it was for Doctor Perkins. But the second one she made specially for me. I felt so proud that day, like I had discovered the cure to some major disease. She’s got me wrapped around her pretty little magical pie baking fingers.

-

y/n pov

-

I try to open my eyes and it’s taking an excessive amount of effort to do so. Everything’s too bright and I’m disoriented but I finally assess my surroundings and I realize I’m in a hospital bed. Oh god, my baby…

“My baby. Is it okay? I-” I whimper and try to call for somebody but there’s no one. How did I even get here?

“Y/N! You’re awake! Thank god!” Natasha and Wanda enter the room, and run to my side when they take in my panicked state.

“Nat, my baby? How is it? I don’t know how- I was- Please tell me it’s okay. I didn’t even get to give them a name yet. I-”

“Sweetie, it’s okay, shhh. You and the baby are okay. You’ve been here for two days, and we were so worried but Bucky said the worst part is over. Oh! That reminds me, Bucky said it’s a she! And she’s quite healthy, but you need to relax because whatever sent both of you here took a toll on your health and you need that to grow a baby, you know? You gotta take care of yourself, hon”.

I sigh in relief and try to relax back into the stiff hospital pillows. My baby is okay and it’s a girl. I feel like my heart stopped for a minute there but now there’s a sense of calm flooding me.

“Wait, you met Bucky?”

“Why yes, actually he wouldn’t leave your side but since Wanda and me are here, he figured you’d be more comfortable with a less crowded room”.

“Oh. That’s- um, that’s nice of him I guess”.

“Y/N? Would you like us to go fetch him?”

“YES! ...I mean, if you girls don’t mind”.

“Oh not at all. I’ll go, Wands you stay here to see if she needs anything”. Nat left the room and I suddenly feel so grateful to have such good friends in my life. I’d feel very pathetic if I was in the hospital by myself. No parents, no husband. No one else to worry about me and my baby girl.

“Okay, missy. I know you mentioned Doctor McDreamy was cute. But you never said he was THAT cute!”

“He is, isn’t he?” I feel my face heat up at her comment but it doesn’t matter anymore. They’ve met him and well, no one could hide that man’s handsome face.

“Too bad all of us are taken”. Wanda says while she cleans the chair by my bed with a wipe and sits.

Man, I gotta tell them what happened with Quentin, I feel like they’re gonna throw me a party or something. They really hate his ass.

“Yeah, about that…”

“Y/N, I’m glad you’re awake, how are you feeling?” Bucky enters the room and even though he has dark circles around his eyes and his face is scruffier than when I last saw him, he looks gorgeous.

“I’m good. Thirsty”. That’s all I manage to utter in front of the prying ears of my best friends, but I glare at them and Nat gets it.

“Oh would you look at the time, Wanda we should go back to the diner. Y/N, honey? We’ll visit after our shift’s over tonight, is that okay? You’re in good hands here, isn’t she, Bucky?”

“Indeed she is”. He says without taking his eyes off me, he smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes, he looks… concerned.

“Kay, see ya!” Nat takes Wanda by the arm and they almost jog outta here.

All of a sudden I feel extreme guilt. Bucky told me stress was bad for the baby and here I am. I feel like a child at the principal’s office. My eyes are welling up and I can’t even look at him.

“Hey, is something wrong? Are you in pain?” Bucky walks over to my side and takes a look at the monitor. I look up at him and he slowly reaches over to grab my chin. My heart does a little flutter and I hope the monitor doesn’t rat me out.

“I- I feel fine. But I’m so stupid. You told me stress was bad and- and I didn’t listen”, I can barely speak coherently in between sobs and jagged breaths, “I’m sorry- I had a huge argument with Quentin, he wasted all my baby savings and he’s having an affair, which I should’ve seen it coming, but I’m so, so stupid!”

Tears flow down my cheeks and I hide my face in my palms, then I feel the bed dip next to me and Bucky’s arms around me. He holds my back with one arm and the back of my head with another, whispering sweet words into my ear. I cling to his arms and let all my sadness and frustration be washed away by his embrace. We stay there for a little while and I try to mimic the rhythm of his breathing to calm myself down.

He’s the first one to let go and I hate to be parted from his arms, but he reaches over to wipe some stray tear and that tiny touch is enough to make me feel better.

“I just want you to know- you’re not stupid. Whatever reaction that you had and that led you here, it was completely normal. Y/N, if I may be so bold to say this- Quentin’s a lowlife. He doesn’t deserve you. I know you tried to work things out and gave him chance after chance because you choose to see the good in people, but you’ve had enough and you deserve more. You’re pretty amazing and the fact that you’ve been handling this pregnancy on your own since day one, makes you the strongest person I know”, he lowers his hand to my stomach and looks deep into my eyes, “you and that little princess you got there are alright now. It was just a scare. A very serious one, but you both are going to get through this in no time, I’m going to make sure of that”.

I smile up to him and he leans in to give my forehead a barely there kiss. Perhaps he’s right and things will be okay, maybe even more than just okay. There is hope in his eyes and in my heart, I can feel it.

“You should rest, I’ll be here, I promise”. 

Bucky takes my hand to his lips and sits in the chair next to me, still holding my hand and kissing it every so often until I fall asleep.

-

chapter 7: never ever getting rid of me

[pretendingtobeconfident]

Some things from my mental hospital that I think about a lot

The radio was on while all of us were just chillin and we heard the infamous DJ KALID WE DA BEST MUSIC or whatever he says and one of the guys gets this far off almost betrayed look and goes “DJ Khaled isn’t even a dj hes just Khaled” and I don’t know why that was so funny but the look in his eyes sparked something inside of me that i didn’t know was possible

For the kids who had insomnia, at 11:00pm when the mental health workers (fancy term that means the adults that hung out with us) shifts were over and they were changing we’d all tiptoe out of our rooms juuust a hint and boogie/vibe together because at 11:03 the clock made a noise that sounded like the chicken dance song.

I was visibly feelin the feels one day, and I’m the one that no one suspects ever feels sad, like Ted Lasso or inflatable tube guys that party by car sale buildings, I told jokes, I made people laugh, I told stories to the younger kids to help distract them, that kinda stuff, but I was too exhausted to hold back and as I’m sitting on the couch, not really doing anything, just existing, a MHW comes up to me and drops a stack of papers on my lap, with song lyrics from bands I liked, pictures of my celeb crush, and a bunch of logic puzzle-ey things because my adhd needs stimulation and challenges or else it goes crazy and I stared at her for 12 seconds before confessing my love for her as she left the room.

There were 2 MHWs with the name Jesus and one looked almost exactly like Joe Jonas and the other was very sarcastic and witty and was one of the people that treated us like we’re not sad, we’re friends that annoy him sometimes, but he still cares, BUT ANYWAYS we called that one Jesus with a hard J and the day after we bestowed the nickname upon him he came in wearing a halo. The other came in wearing a mini sombrero and I miss them all the time

We weren't allowed to have markers in our rooms but I was the only one who smuggled one in so I could play sudoku by dropping it into my sleeve and hiding it in my clothes because that's the only place they cant look and I gotta tell you I was so damn proud of myself, I felt like a goddess.

When I was in the ambulance going from the ER to the hospital (they make you ride in one) my emt was super amazing and for the whole 3 hour drive she was just showing me all these cool gadgets and secret compartments in the ambulance.

I'll add more if this gets notes cuz these aren't even the best ones

[nxrthmizu]

Hi babie! Here for your event 👀 can I request a fluff with Daichi? 😩💜 my head has been FULL of this man. I see myself as a friendly person and I tend to be not awkward when talking to someone I’ve just met. You can also say that I have ambitions and clear goals of what I want my future to be like! But I have very low confidence level. It’s very hard to get my confidence up there but very easy for it to plummet down. Thank you for doing this babie! Congratulations again 💓💓

| Wishes and Takoyaki | Sawamura Daichi 

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prompt | #1- Snow 

pairing | Sawamura Daichi x Reader

words | 1.3k 

author’s note | Aww thank you Ana! Hope you enjoy this dose of childhood bestfriend!Daichi fluff~  

»»——⍟——««

[Year 2000] 

“Hello! Are you lost?” 

He looked up to meet your eyes, tinted yellow by the candles around the two of you. Snow had started to fall softly, gathering in clumps on his dark green beanie. The Snow Lights Festival was being held at Shojing Shrine, which sat atop a little hill. The path leading up was decorated with snow lanterns, which emitted a soft yellow glow amidst all the white. 

“Y-Yeah.” He answered shyly, rubbing his hands together. He had gotten separated from his parents due to the crowd a while ago. “My parents said to meet them at the top if I get lost.” 

You tilted your head at him, smiling. “I’m lost too! Let’s start walking up!” 

“But- But it’s so far away.” He complained, pouting. “I can’t walk that far.” 

“Sure you can!” You insisted fiercely. “Just think of the food at the top! If you make it up there you can eat! And you can make wishes on emas, too,” You added. “But most importantly there’s food at the top.” 

He hesitated. “Are you going up, too?” He asked hopefully. 

“Yeah!” You grinned. “I’m here with my sister. She said if I get lost I gotta meet her at the top, so let’s go together!” 

Nodding slightly, he took your outstretched hand, blushing a soft pink in contrast to all the white around the two of you. “Okay.” 

“Oh, my name’s L/N Y/N! You can call me Y/N.” 

He frowned. “But what about formalities?” 

“We’re friends, right?” You smiled widely. “Then you can call me Y/N.” 

“Oh... In that case, you can call me Daichi.” 

[Year 2001] 

“Daichi!” 

He turned around, smiling even before his eyes met yours. Your voice was instantly recognisable by him, the tone and note memorised right down to the last detail. “Hello, Y/N.” He replied. 

After last year’s festival, Daichi’s parents had acquired your older sister’s phone number so that the two of you could hangout and become better friends. You had spent countless days at Daichi’s place and could probably walk to his house blindfolded. 

“Let’s go!” You grinned, tugging at his hand. Daichi glanced back at his parents, who only nodded in approval, calling out to the two of you to be careful. He let himself get dragged up past the snow lanterns and up the slope towards the shrine, the memories of the year before fresh and renewed in his mind. 

“Wait here.” He told you, running off into the crowd as he left you by the side of a tall lamppost. You frowned in confusion but waited anyway, and he wasn’t gone long. In two minutes, he had returned with two wooden plaques in his hand. “Here’s yours.”

A beam slowly stretched across your lips as you realised what he had handed you- An ema, a little wooden plaque where you could write wishes on. “Thanks!” You smiled brightly, the two of you heading over to the station where pens were provided. Your sloppy, seven-year-old handwriting spelt your wish on the plaque- ‘I want a puppy and to be friends with Daichi forever’. 

You peered over his shoulder curiously. “What did you wish for?” He instantly repelled away from you, grabbing his shinto tightly in his palm. 

“You can’t do that!” He said indignantly. “It’s a secret.” 

You pouted. “Fine! Not like I wanted to know anyways.” 

[Year 2005] 

Before you knew it, it was the Snow Lights Festival again. The two of you had turned eleven as pages of the calendar flew past in a blur. Daichi had dropped his slightly shy nature and become a more confident pre-teen that exerted the slight aura of a leader. 

“Y/N!” He called out your name, a slight look of amusement on his face. “Were you lost?” He teased, having noticed how you had been wandering around aimlessly as you searched for your best friend, who you were supposed to meet at the shrine. 

“I was not.” You defended yourself, crossing your arms. 

He chuckled. “Sure, you weren’t. Where’s your sister?” He peered behind you, glancing around. “Isn’t she normally with you?” 

“She got asked out for a date.” You replied giddily, incredibly proud of your sister, who had been an awkward single young-adult for the past five years. 

“Oh.” 

A silence fell between the two of you. Daichi looked like there was something he wanted to say, but decided against it. “Well, I brought money to buy takoyaki. You hungry?” 

“Hungry or not, I’m always down for takoyaki.” 

[Year 2010, Current time] 

“Daichi! Sugawara! Asahi!” You grinned brightly as you spotted the trio. Junior high had came and left, and now you were halfway through senior high. Daichi had become a tall, broad-shouldered volleyball player that was greatly respected. His leader aura had only gotten stronger, giving him a reputation of being an incredibly reliable student.  

The grey-haired boy nudged your childhood bestfriend. “Asahi, I’m going to the toilet. Want to come?” 

“Err... Yes! Of course I want to come.” Asahi coughed awkwardly. “Y/N... We’ll see you guys at the shrine?” He offered, but was dragged off by Suga, who seemed very hasty to leave. 

You stared at Suga and Asahi’s retreating backs oddly. “Isn’t the toilet in the other direction?” 

Daichi seemed to choke on his saliva. “Um. Is it?” He laughed nervously. “Let’s... Go up first?” He suggested, gesturing to the slope that you had now become so familiarised with. 

“I’m going to get some takoyaki. You want some?” You offered, already reaching inside your bag for your wallet. 

“Go ahead, I’ll go buy us two emas’.” He smiled at you. “We’ll meet back here?” 

You gave him a wink. “You got it!” 

A few minutes later, the two of you met back under the lamppost, exchanging what you two had bought. “Here’s your ema.” He handed the wooden plaque to you, holding his own, an identical-looking one in his hand. 

“Thanks. Oh my gosh, it tastes so good when it’s still hot.” You moaned, feeling the warm takoyaki ball inside your mouth. “It’s so good!” 

He smiled in amusement. 

“Oh yeah, Suga and Asahi sure are taking a long time in the toilet, huh?” You brought up, feeling suspicious. What were those two doing in the toilet??? (Asasuga??? wink wink) 

He coughed. “Um. Maybe we should go write our wishes first?” 

The two of you crouched by the pen station, writing down your respective wishes. You wished for good grades and an uneventful year, plus good luck for Daichi, Suga, and Asahi’s volleyball team. Daichi tucked his inside his coat pocket as soon as he was done writing, being very discreet and suspicious about the whole thing. 

“There’s no more space!” You grunted in frustration, trying to squeeze your ema onto the fence provided to hang the plaques. 

Daichi chuckled, taking your plaque from you. “There’s space at the top.” He reached up, easily tying it on one of the higher bars. “There. Okay, um. I need to tell you something.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “If you make a remark about my height, Daichi, I will slap you.” You warned playfully. 

“No! It’s not about that.” He laughed, a blush colouring his cheeks. “Okay, um. Remember the ema I hung up when we were seven?” 

You scratched your mind for the memory. “Oh yeah! The one you wouldn’t let me see.” 

“Yeah, well. About... What I wrote.” He coughed nervously, rubbing his arm restlessly. “I- I wrote that I wanted to be friends with you forever.” 

You cooed. “Aww!” That’s what I wished for, too. Guess the wishes do come true, huh. 

“The thing is, I want to take that back.” You must’ve looked panicked, because he rushed to reassure you. “No! Not like that. I... Don’t just want to be your friend.” He explained awkwardly. 

The two of you paused for a moment until an old lady coughed, the two of you apologising in embarrassment and moving out of the way so other people could hang their emas. 

“Oh.” You replied softly. 

“So...?” Daichi prompted. “You can say no, it’s fine, really. I just... Wanted to shoot my shot.” 

You giggled. “Then maybe we should get another ema.” 

He raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What? Why?” 

“So I can wish for us to be together forever.” 

»»——⍟——««

[Haikyuu!! Light Festival]

Here you go Ana! I hope it’s satisfactory~ 

Also I googled Asahi x Suga and apparently it’s a thing- 

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