#anyways back to having a crashed brain and showering this got out of hand lol

[realcube]

comfort with the haikyuu!! boys hcs 💝

characters: kenma, bokuto, ushijima, tsukishima, akaashi

thanks to anon for the request (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

ALL AGED UP! (no mature themes though) (i just like the post-timeskip domestic dynamics)

tw// hurt! reader, swearing, mentions of death, fluff, angst if you squint

Kenma Kuzome

bb has cat senses so he can tell when you’re sad

he can also tell bc you do the exact same thing he does when he’s sad, which is cuddle underneath blankets in bed, play animal crossing and blare lo-fi music to conceal your faint sobs

so when he walks into your shared room and notices you wrapped up in blankets on the bed, he does his best to suppress a snicker whicH HE FEELS SO BAD FOR HAVING IN THE FIRST PLACE

like he knows you’re sad but a part of his mind is just like ‘heh, (y/n) burrito.’ like you just look sO FKN CUTE!!

anyway, the first thing he always does when you’re down is approach you on the bed, sneak under the blankets and join to you to become a (y/n) & kenma burrito 

also, he might turn the speaker off depending on how loud the music is lol but if it’s at an okay volume then he’ll just leave it on and vibe with you for a bit as he desperately wracks his brain, trying to come up with something reassuring to say 

you usually comes up with the something basic like, ‘what’s wrong?’ but i mean, you don’t really mind - at least he’s making an effort and you know it must be difficult for him to think of things to say lol

depending on how sad you are, you might just tell him straight-up what happened or you might text him bc you don’t think you’ll be able to choke out an answer without bursting into tears again

then he’ll ask you if you want to be alone and act accordingly 

assuming that you say ‘no’ bc you want his presence, he’ll just recollect on the last time you comforted him while he was down and mimic it tbh

..you always comfort him so well 🥺 and whenever you console him, he always feels so much better so he just thought that maybe if he imitates you, then it’ll work just as well

so he started off by resting his head on your shoulder and whispering kind things in your ear just like you did to him, ‘you know i love you, right?’ , ‘i hope you feel better soon’, ‘do you want me to bring you some food?’

he’ll seriously do everything in his power to make sure that you’re as comfortable as possible 

and he’ll stay as a (y/n) & kenma burrito until you feel better or until the sun rises  ( *^-^)ρ(*╯^╰)

Kōtarō Bokuto

i’ve said this before and i’ll say it again - he’s such an empath and so overdramatic

so when he comes home from work and you don’t run up to the door to give him hugs & kisses- he’s about to burst into tears himself

so he sulks up to your room now IMAGINE HOW SHOCKED HE IS WHEN HE WALKS IN TO SEE YOU CRYING UNDER THE BLANKETS

emo-mode engaged :(

his hair deflates as he pounces on you and wails, ‘(Y/N)! WHY ARE YOU CRYING?! ARE YOU OKAY?! WHO HURT YOU?!’ (ಥ _ ಥ)

and the bitch dives on you while you are under the blanket, essentially scaring and suffocating you 

‘bokuto, get off me!’ you shrieked, wriggling out of his grip and out from under the blanket

 when he notices you had escaped the blanket with tear-stained cheeks, he felt even worse 

he threw himself into your arms, howling, ‘(Y/N)!! I AM SO SORRY!’

at this point all the blood had rushed to your head and you had kinda forgotten that you were sad for a moment or two

‘bo! you should know you’re own strength by now.’ you muttered, rubbing the underneaths off your puffy eyes

‘I KNOW!’ he wailed once more, burying his face into the crook of your neck

you sighed while rubbing his back, unable to supress a slight giggle, ‘bokuto..’ 

there was ages of silence between the two of you before he pulled away to look you in the eyes and asked, ‘(y/n), why were you crying before i got here?’

you’d explain the issue to him and he’d do everything in his power to solve it because the way he sees it, why should he try console you when he can just fix the variable that’s making you sad in the first place?

like, if you were just fired from your job, he’ll go full karen and he will call corporate to demand for your job back if you don’t stop him

or if your loved one died, he’ll become a fkn medium or study resurrection

or if you’re just stressed from exams/tests, he’ll just be like ‘why do you need to go to uni anyway?’

‘so i can get a qualification.’

‘why do you need that?’

‘so i can apply for a job.’

‘why do you need a job?’

‘so i can make money, so i don’t starve.’

‘you can have my money!’

you couldn’t help but chuckle at how much life-experience bokuto had, yet he will still so naïve; honestly, you couldn’t even tell if he was joking or not. ‘what if we break up?-”

“DON’T SAY THAT!” he gasped, instinctively tightening his grip on you

Wakatoshi Ushijima

both you and ushijima’s pride did not allow y’all to cry in front of one another 

if you ever had to cry, you’d just run to the bathroom, lock the door, turn on the tap to drown out the sound of your sobs and just let it all out

and if he ever had to cry, he’d just do it in the shower

but like- you both knew when the other one had been crying because of their puffy, damp eyes but you both mutually agreed to not mention it

i mean, up until now y’all had both been able to flourish in the relationship while dealing with emotions on your own so why bother changing?

and if anything, you both felt more comfortable crying to yourselves

 that was, until today

you had cracked under the pressure of your job - you were simply sitting at your desk in the study room, doing some work then it all just came crashing down

ushijima had just stepped out of the shower in his towel and was currently wandering around the house in search of you, to inform you that he ran out of shampoo so it would be greatly appreciated if you were to add it to the shopping list 

but when he entered the study to see you sitting there by your computer, bawling you eyes out..he froze

like he had to do a whole double-take bc he wasn’t sure if he was seeing this correctly

your face was buried in your hands so you didn’t notice him at first but then you heard him awkwardly clear his throat from the doorway and your neck immediately jerked to look at him

it was quite embarrassing for the both of you, ngl

like he was standing there half-naked, staring into your red eyes in hopes that what he saw was just a hallucination

after what felt like hours of deafening silence, ushijima broke it by muttering under his breath, ‘uh, is everything okay?’

‘everything is fine, toshi.’ you replied, forcing a bright smile onto your face as you went back to typing, ‘did you come down here to tell me somethi--’

‘i can tell that there is something wrong.’ he stated, walking towards you while using one had to hold his towel in place and draping the other over your shoulders to pull you into his chest. ‘do you want to tell me?’

you let out a long sigh, resting your cheek against his chest while still staring at the many tabs you had open on your desktop 

but ushijima quickly fixed that by taking your chin in-between his thumb and index finger, then turning your face to look up at him, 

‘work?’ he hummed his assumption

‘yeah.’ you mumbled, quite surprised at how understanding he was being

but then again, ushijima obviously knows what it feels like to be overworked and burnt out too, so he was able to provide a lot of empathy in that sense

Kei Tsukishima

ok a bit of tsukki slander but i feel like tsukishima would make it worse WEILUBRGBE

wait no well, he doesn’t make it worse but he doesn’t make it better either

like he’ll walk into the living room and see you curled up under a blanket on the couch, lightly sobbing from underneath- and he honestly doesn’t know how to act

this is the first time he’s seen you cry bc usually y’all keep your emotions to yourselves - you’re both v independent like that （￣︶￣)

anyway, mans thinks he can just tease the sadness out of you 🙄

‘awh, is my little couch goblin feeling sad?’ he said shakily, clearly intimidated by your figure lying on the couch, and you could tell he was nervous per his use of the nickname ‘couch goblin’

‘‘TSUKISHIMA, FUCK OFF!’ you barked, hastily wiping away your tears and clinging to blanket to prevent him from pulling it away, as the last thing you wanted him to see was your weary figure just so he could tease you about it 

‘bitch, i live here.’ he hissed, rubbing the back of his neck - feeling rather conflicted

on one hand, you seemed serious when you asked him to leave; plus, the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable by staying when you’re already sad

but on the other hand, he genuinely wanted to help

he’d feel bad if he were to just leave his s/o in tears when he could’ve done something to make you feel better 

‘do you really want me to go?’ he asked and for a change, not a hint of mockery or sarcasm was found in his voice

there were several moments of silence until you mumbled from under your blanket, ‘no.’ then proceeded to lift up your arm to allow him to crawl under the blanket and join you

he did so, pulling you against his chest so you could sob lightly against his cotton shirt while being engulfed by warm darkness

‘what could’ve possibly went wrong to make the evilest blanket demon cry?’

‘evilest blanket demon’ - that was definitely a new one, and you’d be lying if you said a small snicker didn’t escape your mouth at how monotonously he was able to deliver such a unique nickname

and after years of being in a relationship with tsukki, you’ve learned to find comfort in these nicknames considering they were a big part of how he expressed love 

in his vocabulary, ‘you’re so annoying.’ is equal to ‘i love you’

so him calling you an ‘evil blanket demon’ was, in his eyes, the highest and most sincere form of flattery

you eventually tell him what happened that made you sad and he just listens 

feel free to ramble on about anything/everything that’s worried you for the last few months bc he’s all ears 

he figured that other than make you dinner and hug you, that was the best thing he could do to help bc he was far from a romantic who’s good with words 

if he tries to console you verbally it would probably come out like ‘uh, don’t cry - i understand what you’re going through, i think, but like- cry if you want. this must be tough for you, to be honest.’

so he just listens to what you have to say and occasionally inputs a lil’ ‘mhm’ or ‘yeah’

he’s probably the most patient with you so you could stay sad on the couch for the next few weeks, as long as you’re eating the meals he delivers to you and you’re staying healthy, he’ll just let you mope until you feel better tbh

Keiji Akaashi

boyfie material right here

i’m hardly an akaashi simp but he’s probably the best at comforting you while you’re sad tbh

because he’s literally been dealing with bokuto and his emo-mode for god-knows how long so he’s very good with reassuring people😌

also, i just know that this man can detect emotions so well- evEN THROUGH TEXT ISTG

he’d text you the usual ‘goodnight ❤’

and you’ll quickly wipe away your tears that were blurring your vision to reply ‘goodnight 💕’ 

then he’ll deadass text back like ‘i’m coming over. what’s wrong?’

HE JUST KNOWS!! don’t question it bc he doesn’t even have a logical answer lol

anyway, he’ll arrive and immediately begin with the reassurance before you even tell him what’s wrong 

‘you’re coping so well, (y/n).’

‘i’m so proud and i love you so much.’

‘is there anything i can do to make you feel better?’

‘would you like a hug?’

‘you’re beautiful, (y/n). i hope you know that.’

‘do you want me to get you ice-cream?’

a king- 👑

also, you weren’t embarrassed to cry in front of him either bc you had seen him cry before 

plus, y’all both established at the very beginning of the relationship that you’d both try be as honest and open with your emotions as possible

so now, you were both sitting beside each other on your bed while sharing a banana split that akaashi made (you put the sprinkles on though so you basically gave it flavour ✨)

akaashi is definitely the therapist friend to so he gives great advice 

but if you don’t want his advice and you’d prefer him to just listen, then he can do that too 

honestly, he’d do basically anything to make you feel better 🥺

[bibbawrites]

Family Ties - Charlie Gillespie x Reader (16+)

Request: Can you please do one where either Charlie is meeting your family or you’re meeting his and he keeps trying to be touchy/wanting to have sex but you/him don’t want to get caught xx

Word Count: 1721 words 

Summary: your annual family trip gets a little bit more hands on when your boyfriend Charlie and his family join you

Warnings: heavy makeout, touching, a little bit of grinding, swearing, mentioned and implied sex 

A/N: sorry if this editing is shit my brain is not working lol  hopefully y’all like this one, ive been debating on rewriting it for what feels like years but fuck it i dont have that motivation lol  also idk if theres beaches in canada like what we have here in aus but if there isnt oh well in this fictional version of canada they have aussie beaches  anyways, enjoy! 

Tag List:  @happinessinthedarkesttimes​​ @littlemissaddict​​ @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic​​ @headheartbellarke​​ @lovesanimals​​ @bartok-the-magnificent​​ @juliefromaustralia @multi-universe21 @rangerelik @kaitieskidmore1 @katrina765​​ @fandomxreaders​​​ @ifilwtmfc

It had all started when you had jokingly suggested that you should invite your boyfriend Charlie and his family along on your annual family trip to the beach. Your mother had agreed, and before you knew it she was on the phone to Charlie’s mother working the whole plan out. 

Your family lives in Quebec, and Charlie’s in Dieppe, so your mum’s quickly decided that your family would drive to his house, and then the two families would continue the rest of the way together.

So that’s how you ended up in your dad’s old truck, pulling into the driveway of the Gillespie house at 6am in the morning after almost 8 hours of driving.

You jumped out quickly, wanting to get away from your brother’s annoying rap music and your sister’s constant whining about being bored as quickly as you could. The front door of Charlie’s house swung open and within a few seconds you were being pulled into the arms of your boyfriend, inhaling his familiar scent.

“God I missed you.” He murmured into your shoulder and you grinned.

“I missed you more handsome.” You replied, exchanging a soft kiss. 

Charlie’s family joined him outside and after a few quick introductions, you were on your way to the beach, this time tucked away in the passenger’s seat of Charlie’s car. 

- 

Once you arrived your families spent the day at the beach, and Charlie couldn’t keep his hands off of you. By the time you finally headed off to bed you were certain that every other person in the house was sick of his touchy behaviour. 

You made yourself comfortable on the bed, watching Charlie as he entered the room, shutting the door behind him. 

“I don’t think your dad likes me that much.” He said with a giggle, flopping down onto the bed. You rolled over to look at him.

“He’d like you a lot more if you stopped looking at me and touching me like you want to fuck me at every free moment you have.” You stated, and a light blush appeared on Charlie’s cheeks.

“You think he noticed that?” He asked, pressing his nose against yours.

“I can’t imagine he wouldn’t. You haven’t been subtle at all. We’ve only been here for the day and you’ve tried to jump me three times and that’s not even counting the shower sex.” He grinned cheekily at your words.

“I can’t help it, you’re just so hot.” He whined, and you rolled your eyes.

“But we’re on a holiday with both of our families. You gotta tone down the horny.” You said. He sighed dramatically.

“Fine, I’ll try to be better tomorrow. But for now, we’re all alone... and it’s our first night...” He trailed off, pouting, his eyes dark with lust. You nodded once and that was all the consent he needed, crashing his lips against yours and making quick work of climbing on top of you and sliding his tongue into your mouth.

You moaned, your fingers scraping down his back as he grinded his hips into yours. 

“Fuck.” You mumbled against his lips, your hands finding a place in his hair. You tugged lightly on his hair causing him to moan into your mouth. 

“Hey Y/N?” Your mum’s voice called. 

“Shit.” You exclaimed, pushing Charlie off you. Not expecting the reaction, he jumped slightly, falling off the edge of the bed with a thud. 

You giggled as your mum opened the door, frowning as she took in the sight. 

“Charlie, why are you on the floor?” She questioned. You laughed harder. 

“Fell.” He replied simply, rolling over to stand up, climbing back onto the bed. 

“What’s up Mum?” You asked, hoping that you didn’t look like you had been making out with your boyfriend only moments ago. 

“Did you remember to grab the bag of board games? We were going to play Monopoly.” She said, leaning against the door. You nodded. 

“I put it in the little den room.” You told her and she smiled. 

“Thanks Hon, you two are welcome to join us if you’d like.” She invited. Charlie shook his head. 

“We’re good thanks Mrs Y/L/N. My mum is scary good at Monopoly so I’d rather not lose to her again.” He grinned and your mum returned the smile. 

“Well the offer is there if you want it.” She said, before leaving the room. You let out a sigh of relief. 

“That was a close one.” You mumbled. Charlie nodded, leaning in to kiss you again. You pulled back, giving him an incredulous look. 

“Really? You’re still horny after being interrupted by my mum and monopoly?” You asked. Charlie pouted. 

“A bit.” He admitted. You rolled your eyes at him, pushing him away. He whined but gave in, curling up next to you instead. 

“Tomorrow night.” You said, flicking the tv on. Charlie snuggled his face into your upper back. 

“You promise?” He mumbled against your skin. You nodded. 

“I promise. But only if you’re good during the day.” You bargained. He thought for a moment before humming in agreement. 

“Deal.”

- 

“This is not being good.” You whispered to Charlie as his hand crawled up your thigh at lunch the next day. 

It was tradition for your family to get lunch at your favourite restaurant on the second day, and you had barely been there twenty minutes when Charlie started to get fidgety. 

“I’m not doing anything.” He lied, giving you an innocent smile. 

“Bullshit.” You muttered in reply, and Charlie shook his head, making a disapproving sound. 

“Language.” He faked disappointment. 

“Fuck you.” You rolled your eyes. He gave you a flirty smile. 

“Oh I wish you would.” He teased, his voice deepening slightly. 

“Charles.” You warned, and he sighed, sitting back up again, his hand returning to your knee. 

“Remember our deal?” You said quietly, and he nodded. 

“How could I forget, I’m so sexually frustrated I might explode.” He admitted. You stared at him in disbelief.  

“We literally had sex yesterday evening.” You whispered, your voice hushed. Charlie nodded, eyes wide. 

“Exactly! It’s almost been a whole 24 hours.” He sighed. 

“A whole 24 hours since what?” Meghan questioned, and you choked on a mouthful of fish, grabbing your glass of Coke quickly to wash it down. 

“None of your business.” Charlie retorted. “Stop eavesdropping.” 

“Don’t have private conversations around other people then.” Meghan bit back, but dropped the conversation anyway. Charlie gave you a relieved look. 

“That was close.” You muttered. 

“You’re telling me. Almost enough to get rid of the semi in my pants.” He winked and you hit his arm.

“Charles. Stop it.” You reprimanded. He grinned cheekily. 

“You love me.” He sung, placing a wet kiss on your cheek. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. 

“I’m reconsidering.” 

- 

“So what were you and Charlie discussing at lunch that was so private?” Meghan questioned, once you, her and your sister Isabella were alone sunbathing later that afternoon. You cringed slightly. 

“You don’t want to know.” You replied. 

“Oh god was it a sex thing?” Isabella gasped, and Meghan’s eyes widened in fear. You blushed. 

“I told you that you didn’t want to know.” You said simply, and they both squealed in disgust. 

“Do mum and dad know that you’re sleeping with Charlie?” Isabella asked after a pause. You rolled your eyes. 

“I’m a fully grown adult Bel, I don’t need parental permission to have sex with my boyfriend.” You told her. Meghan fake gagged. 

“Can we not talk about this? I do not want to think about my brother having sex.” She begged. You grinned slightly. 

“You were the one who brought it up.” You said. Meghan sighed. 

“If I’d known it was a sex thing I would have never.” She replied. 

“With Charlie it’s always a sex thing.” You answered. 

Meghan and Isabella groaned in unison as you giggled, flopping back into your chair. 

You really needed to get some girl friends who weren’t your sister and your boyfriend’s sister.

- 

“Was I good today?” Charlie questioned, jumping onto the bed next to you as you scrolled through Instagram that night. 

You put you phone down, pretending to think. 

“Well, you tried to tease me at lunch and then tried to discuss it, which then led to me having a very awkward conversation with our sisters about our sex life. So I’m gonna go with no.” You said. Charlie’s eyes widened. 

“Y/N!” He gasped. “You can’t do that to me.” 

“Why not? I told you to be good and you weren’t so that’s on you.” You replied, returning to scrolling on your phone. Charlie placed his head on your chest, pouting.

“But...” He trailed off. You raised an eyebrow.

“But what?” You questioned. He sighed loudly.

“But I’m so horny.” He complained. You rolled your eyes.

“That sounds like a you problem.” You replied.

“Baby.” Charlie whined, dragging out the ‘y’. “I’m gonna get blue balls, do you want that?” 

“You’ve got hands. And I know you know how to use them.” You said. He sat up, giving you his infamous puppy eyes.  

“Please?” He asked. You stared at him, not wiling to budge.

“Your sex drive is frankly disturbing Gillespie.” You told him.

“I know.” He agreed, batting his eyes at you. “Please?” 

You groaned.

“Fine.” You said. His eyes widened.

“Really?” He questioned, a grin appearing on his face.

“Yes. Quickly, before I change my mind.” You nodded. Charlie moved forward but paused.

“Wait.” He said. You frowned.

“What now?” You questioned, your tone clearly showing your exasperation. 

“You want to do this, right? I’m not making you do anything you don’t want to be doing?” He asked, suddenly serious, and your frown fell as your heart filled with love for the boy in front of you and the fact that he was still asking for consent despite how desperately horny he claimed to be. You lent in, kissing him gently. 

“I promise you’re not forcing me to do anything I don’t want to do.” You said softly.

“You’re sure?” He checked. You nodded. 

“Positive.” You reassured him. He grinned. 

“I love you.” He whispered, leaning closer. 

“I love you too.” You replied. 

And with that Charlie pulled you towards him, ready to show you just how much he really loved you. 

[ahtsumu]

the mystery of love ; kuroo tetsurou

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x f!reader

synopsis: kuroo tetsurou does not believe in soulmates. he believes in science, himself, and sometimes other people. but that doesn’t mean he can’t believe in love.

tag(s): sweet summer lovin’, friends to lovers, inspired by call my by your name, university student!kuroo tetsurou, lab intern!kuroo tetsurou, so much pining lol, fluff, angst, slow burn ; warning(s): profanity, mentions of alcohol ingestion (it’s legal bc they’re in italy!), suggestive themes ; wc: 4.8k

a/n: happy birthday tetsu!! i hope you guys like this. i really enjoyed writing it ♡

Kuroo Tetsurou does not believe in soulmates. He believes in science, himself, and sometimes other people. At least, that’s what he tells you. Sometimes you treat this information as a source of hope; other times, you’re not sure what to make of it.

This, you realise with his shoulder pressed against yours and both your bodies sprawled across his wrinkled bed sheets, is one of those other times. You turn your face to look at his.

“What?” he asks, one side of his mouth curling up in a smile.

For a moment, you wonder what would happen if you just said it. You could blame the alcohol. Get away with it scot-free. While you mull the option over in the dead silence of his room, your brain suddenly registers the music still playing from the living room. The low bass reverberating through the walls. How close your lips are. The sound of his breaths.

“Earth to Y/N?”

And like that, the little what-if that rose in your mind falls back with its tail between its legs. You bite your lip, look around his room like the walls have a script printed on them. Unfortunately, they do not.

“I was just thinking about my shirt.” It’s not great, but it’s the best you can do while still feeling the vodka and orange juice burn in your stomach. And smelling it on yourself.

Kuroo’s laugh booms through the room and you can’t help but giggle along with him. “I said I was sorry!” he says, hazel eyes twinkling with mirth. He pauses and glances at his closet, then nods his head in its direction. “Take a hoodie. Your pick.”

A smile–– one you try to downplay but fail miserably to–– creeps up your face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo replies. “You can also shower here if you want. It's the least I can do after spilling my drink all over you.”

When you emerge from Kuroo’s bathroom in one of his thinner hoodies, a lot soberer and drying your hair, he’s not on the bed anymore. Quietly, you step out of his room and look for him through the house. People are crashed everywhere–– on the sofa, over the kitchen counter, even propped up against walls. The floor is covered with plastic cups and mysterious pools of liquid. Wrinkling your nose, you try your best to step around the messes, looking in every corner in the house for the raven-haired boy.

You find him back in his room, actually. He’s back on his bed scrolling through his phone, the light illuminating his sharp features. When he hears you close the door behind you, he looks up, eyes immediately zeroing in on the black hoodie over your torso. The corner of his mouth twitches up.

“Where’d you go?” you both ask at the same time. He chuckles; you grin. Crawling back onto the bed, you tell him to go first.

“I went around to make sure nothing’s broken,” he explains. “Perks of being the only sober intern in the house, I guess.”

A beat passes.

This house is rented. You forgot about that. All his expenses are paid for by your mother’s lab. You forgot about that. He fits in your world so well, like maybe he’s always had a spot there, that you forgot that Kuroo Tetsurou is only here for the summer.

“Right.”

Kuroo raises a brow. “And you?”

“I went to look for you.”

He smiles and holds his hands out like a magician at the end of a trick. “Well, you found me.”

“Yeah,” you muse. “I guess I did.” Aren’t you lucky.

With that, something shifts in the air. A contemplative expression crosses Kuroo’s face. Maybe he’s realised how his words come out sometimes. Kuroo often says things that sound like they have more than one meaning and it used to throw you off, but now you just go with it. You’ve even picked up that habit yourself. “Do you ever wish that you’d met someone earlier? Maybe under different circumstances?” he asks.

Sighing, you fall back against his mattress and stare up at the ceiling. Telling the truth feels easier when you can’t see him. “Yeah. All the time.” A few seconds pass. “Do you think we would’ve been friends if we went to the same college?”

He also lies down. You’re both back in the same positions you were in an hour ago, but something’s changed. “No,” he admits. You’re not surprised–– that’s what you’d expected. “I’d be a junior and you’d be a freshman. We probably would’ve never met. And even if we had, I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging out with a… freshie.” He chuckles softly at the end. “And look at me now,” he adds softly, more to himself than you. You look over at his face. A contemplative smile rests on his lips.

That urge to just say it returns.

“Kuroo, I think––”

“You’re my favourite p–– oh, my bad. You first.”

And it goes away again.

“Um, uh,” you stutter, “how long do you have left here?”

Kuroo raises his brows. “On this planet? Hopefully a while, Y/N.” He sees your unamused expression and drops the front. “Three more weeks.”

Your eyes widen. Eight weeks have already passed. Blood rushes to your ears. Eight entire weeks have already passed, meaning that in three weeks, Kuroo Tetsurou will leave forever. And in four, you will, too. Except you’ll come back. You’ve done so every summer since you were born, probably will do until you die.

But this place will never be the same as it used to. Not after him.

“Y/N?” Once everything comes back into focus, you see the concern riddling his features. “Everything okay?”

“Hmm? Yeah.”

Say it.

“You didn’t have too much to drink, right?”

Say it.

“I just got buzzed. What about you?”

“The only drink I was planning on having all went to your shirt.”

Say it.

“Kuroo.”

“Yeah?”

Not yet.

“Let’s go on an adventure.”

At two AM, everything is different. The streets feel different, the villas look different, and you–– you can’t put your finger on it but Kuroo Tetsurou has changed, too. He sits behind the wheel of your father’s white 1953 Cadillac with the convertible roof down, unruly hair blown back by the breeze, a euphoric grin stretched over his face. In the passenger’s seat, you sit with an equally large beam and your hands raised into the dark sky.

“Where to, Miss?” he shouts over the wind.

“The stars,” you shout back with a laugh. Kuroo’s cat-like eyes briefly flit over to your side profile, lips curving to form a smaller, more tender smile. But you miss that–– your gaze falls on him just a second after his return to the road.

“I heard you say Jack’s,” he says, smirking.

The 24/7 diner sticks out like a sore thumb in the row of sun-baked stucco and stone buildings with its bold neon lights and shiny exterior. During the day, it seems gaudy, way too American for a small town in northern Italy. But at night, this place feels like home. You’ve been stumbling into Jack’s completely shit-faced since you were sixteen. Of course, all those other times had been with the kids of your mother’s coworkers. All those other times, you could hardly remember what you even ordered when you woke up hours later.

But this time, you walk in with Kuroo Tetsurou at half-past-two in the morning, the chemicals running through your bloodstream epinephrine and dopamine, not ethanol; if you’re drunk then it’s on a feeling and your only poison is the boy next to you. You study his face and consider that thought. No, he’s not poison. He’s the antidote.

“Y/N!” the server exclaims, rushing over with two menus. “And Kuroo! My two favourite customers, but together this time!” Giovanni ushers you two to a booth by the window and takes your orders, purely for show, of course. He knows your orders by heart: the Lorenzo for Kuroo and the Quentin for you.

“With fries on both, please,” Kuroo adds, throwing you a wink. “Aren’t I a gentleman?”

“You only did that to have more for yourself,” you reply drily. Having him over at your house for dinner every night made picking up his idiosyncrasies so unbelievably easy. You know them like they’re your own. You know him like he’s your own.

Kuroo clutches his chest and pretends to be offended, then changes the conversation to what happened at the lab today, or rather, yesterday. That your mother and the other researchers are so close to finding a cure for the strain of virus that’s recently hit crickets in southern Italy.

“You should drop by again sometime,” he says. “Last time you came around was, what, two weeks ago?”

Your face breaks in a grin. “Are you saying you’ve missed me? Chemistry getting boring?” you tease, drawing a loud laugh from him.

“Sodium hydrogen, you little shit.” Your mother’s used this one on you before, but hearing it from him makes you giggle anyway.

Giovanni comes back with two plates, each loaded with fries. You both say your thanks and he retreats to the kitchen again, but not before wiggling his eyebrows at your reddening faces. Wordlessly, you grab your fork and knife and transfer at least half of your fries onto Kuroo’s plate. Kuroo stares at you with the slightest smile. That look sends your stomach into flips.

“What?” you question nonchalantly, cutting into your burger.

“Nothing,” he says, mirroring your actions. “Nothing at all.”

It’s hard to imagine that after spending almost every day together for eight weeks straight that there’s still more to learn about each other, but there is. You tell him more about your real home. Your best friend who called you at 3 AM last night because of timezones. Stories from every summer before this one, when you were a different person in the same place you are now.

He tells you more about Kenma, his best friend from high school. How they played on one of the best volleyball teams in Japan. Stories from training camp, literature class, the metro ride home after school–– you listen to every single one in rapt attention. There’s not enough time in the world for all the things you want to know about Kuroo Tetsurou, so you take what you can get. If only you’d known him before you’d known him.

“If we’d met earlier here, do you think we would’ve been friends?” you ask after paging Giovanni for the check.

“No,” he replies, picking up a few remaining fries with his fork instead of his fingers. The corners of your mouth turn up. That’s your thing. He considers the scenario seriously. “I think we met right when we should have.”

“What about the future?” you press, leaning into the conversation. “Let’s say we meet in two years here, instead of now. Would we be friends?”

Kuroo sets his fork down, eyes you steadily. “What’s this about?”

You blink. “What?”

“What’s with all these hypotheticals today?” Perhaps worried that he came off too harshly, Kuroo adds, “I thought I was the scientist.”

“I just… it feels like I’ve known you since forever.” This feels like it was meant to be, you don’t say. And I want to know you forever.

A sigh–– fond, but still a sigh–– blows through his lips. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates,” he says with a wicked grin.

“Are you calling me your soulmate?” The question, shamelessly genuine, painfully hopeful, leaves your mouth without you intending it to and you regret it instantly. Because Kuroo Tetsurou has told you many times that he does not believe in soulmates.

Is it so bad to dream, though?

You watch him carefully but he doesn’t say anything, just continues smiling wryly like you’d intended to tease him. Like he knows that you know better. But you don’t.

“Are you?” he suddenly replies. Sharp eyes hold yours, daring you to respond. Do you dare?

At that moment, Giovanni returns with the check. “Who’s paying?” he asks, unaware of the tense exchange that just occurred across the table. Inaudibly, you sigh in relief. Kuroo is about to say that it’s on him when he catches himself in the middle of his sentence, looks your way, then back to Giovanni. He says you’ll go Dutch. You nod in approval.

“So,” Kuroo drawls once you’ve both paid for your meals. “Where do we go from here?”

Good question.

Kuroo Tetsurou has never been to an outdoor club period. And though he’s been clubbing, he has never once gone dancing in his lifetime. You tell him that’s about to change as he parks the car in a lot near the venue. Before him, all your summer nights were spent here.

“You’ve been here for two months and you haven’t been to an outdoor club yet?” you ask while unbuckling your seatbelt. That can’t be possible. If you’d been in his shoes… an attractive college student in a foreign country for the summer, you would have gone wild.

“Nope. I’ve been a little busy, y’know, spending my days in a lab, handling chemicals, studying viruses, washing lab equipment, writing up reports for your mother and her colleagues, working on my own research on the side… the usual.” He flashes you a bright, sarcastic smile.

“Poor baby,” you coo, ruffling his hair. Kuroo laughs while you continue messing with the dark locks. “Was your first full day here the only tourist-day you’ve had so far?” His weekends, you already know, are spent either lounging around cafés, pools, or the great outdoors with you or the interns. But you’d assumed he’d had time to do some exploring on his own.

Kuroo nods. “And my guide wasn’t even that great,” he mutters, shooting you a dark look. “She sped through every attraction and hardly spoke a word outside of the tour to me. I think she hated me.”

You giggle and open the door, letting the music from the outdoor speakers infiltrate the bubble inside your car. “Maybe she was just nervous!” you say as you get out. That’s a lie.

“About what?” Kuroo follows suit, the gravel crunching beneath his feet. “I was so friendly to you and you just brushed me off each time.” He pouts.

But you don’t reply. Instead, you just grab his hands and pull him towards the venue. As you step into the boundaries marked by fairy lights and rustic wooden fences, Kuroo stops in his tracks and tugs on your intertwined hands. You glance down before up, trying to memorise how his hand looks around yours in the few seconds you can steal.

“Y/N,” Kuroo says. The strobe lights paint his skin pink, blue, purple like it’s a canvas. “Tell me why you were nervous.” Grammatically, it’s a command. And yet it sounds like he’s begging.

“What’s it mean to you?” you ask, feeling your heartbeat speed up in your chest. So what if you just… said it? What would happen?

“Everything?” he replies with a cheeky smile. The odds that he seriously means that are slim. But… they’re there. You shake that possibility out of your mind. That’s just the hope talking.

“Depends how convincingly you say it.” You tug on his arm. “C’mon. Let’s dance.” But he doesn’t budge–– he just continues to stand by the entrance of the club with an expectant look on his face. People are starting to stare.

“Fine,” you say with an eye roll. “I’ll tell you." Kuroo smirks, something self-congratulatory ready to leave his mouth, but then you let go of his hand and dance backwards into the throng of moving bodies. “But first, you’re gonna have to dance with me!” 

You allow yourself to be swallowed by the lively music, the people, the moment. Seconds later you’re deep enough into the crowd that you lose sight of Kuroo. Something in you says that he’ll show up soon, though. For now, you let yourself breathe. Forget about the heaviness of what-if’s, the itch to confess, the dread of the aftermath. Feelings are a lot like gravity. Sometimes they keep you grounded, other times, they weigh you down. This is one of those other times.

You dance up to a friendly-looking group of teens your age. Three guys and two girls. You shout your name and follow up with how it’s nice to meet them, hoping one of them finds you nice enough to keep around. Dancing alone in a club is one of the worst things that can ever happen to someone. Luckily, one of the girls–– the one wearing a purple wig–– pulls you in for a hug, drunkenly shouting back, “Bianca!” Bianca pushes you into their circle next to one of the guys and, just like that, you two start moving to the beat, feeling it in your feet, shoulders, hips. At one point, you turn around and take a good look at his face. The guy’s cute enough, but he’s not Kuroo. Still, you say nothing as he moves closer to you and grabs your hand, lifting it up and motioning for you to twirl.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grip firmly onto your waist and pull you out of the circle. “Hey!” You look down, suddenly realising they’re Kuroo’s. A shiver runs down your spine. He spins you around to face him. His lips are set in a firm line, eyes completely devoid of humour, nostrils slightly flared.

“Hi,” you say quietly, testing the waters.

“Hi,” he replies curtly. His hands are still on your waist. Selfishly, you choose not to point that out. Instead, you try to defuse the situation with a light question. Playful tone.

“Where were you this whole time?”

“Looking for you.”

“Well… you found me.” You flash him a sheepish grin. A peace offering of some sort.

“I did.” He doesn’t take it.

“Lucky you.”

Irritation finally seeps through his features. “You just left me on the dance floor!” he snaps. “And then when I find you after searching the entire venue, you’re dancing up on some random guy!”

“It was in good fun!” you retort, wriggling out of his grip. “And I wasn’t dancing up on him.” You want to ask if he’s jealous so badly, but you take a good look at his face and decide against that.

“Fun?” he asks incredulously. “Worrying about losing you, worrying about myself getting lost, then having to worry about that guy after finding you isn’t very fucking fun to me, Y/N!” The words fly out of his mouth like daggers without pause. Once finished, he looks at you with a disappointed gaze, shaking his head lightly, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking down at your shoes. It doesn’t matter if you disagree with him–– a sort of shame drills itself so deeply into your conscience that all you can think about is making things right again. “I didn’t think my actions through.”

A second passes. You wonder what he’s thinking.

“Hey, look at me.” Kuroo lifts your chin up with an index finger. Your wide eyes meet his narrow ones. Just as a pink beam glides over his face, his gaze softens, falls down to your lips. And then you feel his thumb on your chin, barely grazing the skin of your bottom lip. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down. The revelry in the background fades to dull beats against your eardrums. Suddenly, you register that he smells of, as usual, blackcurrant and amber.

But now you also smell of blackcurrant and amber.

You’re wearing his clothes. You smell of him.

Kuroo’s eyes crawl back up to yours, wide like he’s just been caught in the middle of a crime. You blink expectantly, ignoring the furious way your heart pounds in your chest. Shallow breaths puff through your slightly parted mouth.

“I am.” It comes out barely a whisper. C’mon. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me––

You gently touch the hand he has on your chin. Kuroo jolts back like he’s been burned. “I’ll, uhm, I’ll be in the car,” he stutters, looking away from your face. He pushes through the sea of people, leaving you all alone on the dance floor, body doused in blue light, fingers touching the area his thumb had been as if preserving its print.

Kuroo hardly notices you slip into the passenger’s seat minutes later. He’s got his forearms hanging over the steering wheel and gaze fixed ahead into the darkness, mind probably running off to a place he wishes his body was, too.

As soon as you’ve buckled yourself in, Kuroo starts the car.

The entire drive home is silent.

Once Kuroo pulls into your courtyard and parks, he turns off the engine, unbuckles his seatbelt, and steps out of the car. Wordlessly, you follow his actions and meet him by the stairs to your door.

“Hi,” you say quietly. He doesn’t look at you.

“Hey.”

The two of you stand outside your front door in silence as you both consider what to say next. This can’t be the way it ends.

“I shouldn’t have… done that,” Kuroo says first.

“Done what?” You choose to play dumb. Call it selfish, but you want to hear him say it. Maybe then it’ll feel as real as it had been. Kuroo sighs and leans his shoulder against the stone wall, crossing his arms over his chest. There’s no way he can dance around what happened. Perhaps the past two months can be summed up as the development of a strong friendship with skilled doublespeak and metaphors and just enough artistic licence, but this can’t. And Kuroo knows that. He can’t feed you an alternative truth like he’s done so many times before. What’s more, he can’t lie to himself anymore. So maybe it’s better just to not speak at all.

Your eyes burn holes into the side of his face. Fine. You’ll concede first. “I was never nervous.”

Kuroo blinks, turns his head around to look at you. “What?”

“I was never nervous. I was playing it cool because I didn’t want to risk befriending you and getting attached.” I’m still playing it cool, you don’t say. And I’m already attached. “Guess I just came off as a bitch instead.” You laugh. “But can you blame me? You were this cute, older guy. Smart, too, since you were interning with my mom. You were my dream guy.”

An amused breath blows out of his nose. “Were?” he questions, grinning, only remembering the fragility of your platonic relationship a second later. “Um––”

“Are.” It slips out of your mouth without you realising. Fuck. Kuroo stills. It’s too late to take back your words now, so you might as well just keep going. “You still are my dream guy.”

Seconds pass and neither of you says anything. Sweat gathers in the palms of your hands. You start to feel your heartbeat through your neck. The buzz of the cicadas grows louder. Oppressive. Behind Kuroo, the sky is starting to turn pale blue and pink in the horizon. That means it’s almost sunrise. The night is almost over, and, hopefully, so is this awful conversation.

“And… you don’t feel the same.” Funnily, you feel like you’re lying. You’re telling Kuroo how he feels and you think you’re lying. Does that make sense? None of this night even feels real. God, you hope this has all just been a dream. Mustering a soft smile, you say, “That’s okay. Thank you for the party. And the adventure.” It was fun while it lasted. You feel the house key in your pocket and turn to unlock the door. “I hope this doesn’t change anything between us, Kuroo. Can we still be friends?” The words leave your mouth feeling like barbed wire. You know damn well you can’t still be friends.

And suddenly, you feel his calloused hands around your cheeks. Suddenly, his hot breath fans over your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he murmurs.

Your eyes close instantly. “Yes, please.”

And suddenly, his soft lips are on yours.

Kuroo breaks the kiss seconds later. “Fuck,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours, touching the tips of your noses together. “Y/N, I don’t want to be friends. Fuck.” A dry chuckle leaves his mouth. He pauses to collect his thoughts but decides that that can wait. Instead, he presses another kiss to your lips so fervently that he backs you up against the wall with no space between your bodies. You wonder if he can feel your heartbeat like this, chest to chest. Kuroo’s hands travel down your waist and rest on your hips. His tongue runs across your tongue, your teeth, the insides of your mouth. You gently suck on it, drawing a satisfied moan from him. When the kiss ends, you see that his lips are red and cheeks are swollen. A warm feeling spreads through your chest. “I thought I could be happy just being friends with you but I can’t. I want you so bad it hurts. Not to mention, when I saw you in my hoodie?” His fingers pinch the material. “I thought God was testing me or some shit.”

“Sure didn’t feel like you wanted me that way,” you retort, still breathless.

“In my defence,” Kuroo says, thumbs tracing your cheekbones, “I was very scared.”

“Of what?”

It looks like he’s about to tell you, but he changes his mind and doesn’t answer. He grabs your hand and pulls you back to the car with a cheeky grin. “I’ll tell you only if you tell me where we can watch the sunrise.”

Kuroo holds your hand, stroking your thumb the entire drive there.

After a short hike, you plop down on the grassy hillside, supporting your body with outstretched arms in the back. Kuroo sits down beside you with one of his hands covering yours, fingers intertwined like a honeysuckle vine around a hazel tree. You tell him that you grew up running along this hill with your parents. It used to be your playground. Maybe, you think, it’s time to make new memories here.

“Beautiful,” Kuroo breathes, a wonderstruck look in his eyes. The sun’s just risen halfway above the pink and blue horizon, the saturated orange casting the entire city below gold. It’s not just the city, though. He’s also gold. He’s just as beautiful. You watch him with a soft smile on your lips, noting how his wide eyes and slack jaw return to normal as he stares off into the distance. After resting your head on his shoulder, you fix your eyes on the sunrise ahead. You wonder what he’s thinking so quietly about.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you finally ask once the sun has finished revealing itself.

Kuroo blinks, returning to reality, but continues to stare straight ahead. “I was just thinking about… soulmates.”

You lift your head off his shoulder. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates now,” you tease.

“Hmm.” He turns to look at you, the sun turning his hazel eyes the colour of honey. That same wry smirk from Jack’s returns to his face.

“You wanna know why I was so scared?”

“Pray tell.”

“Because I’ve never felt this way towards anyone.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“No,” Kuroo laughs, laying his head down in your lap, looking up into your eyes. “I’m serious. I used to purposely stay away from girls in high school. Same in college. Same all the way until you somehow wormed your way into my life. That’s why we wouldn’t have been friends.” You cock your head to the side.

“Why?” you ask, running your fingers through his hair.

Kuroo’s eyelids flutter shut. He inhales deeply before talking. “My parents are divorced. The years before the divorce were… very ugly.” 

(He spares you the details of the midnight arguments, the smashed plates, the holes in the walls. He spares you the details of how he only ever knew how to fall asleep with his head sandwiched between two pillows, how he hasn’t seen his sister in a decade, how he’ll curse and snap but never yell because he always feels like a child again around the noise. That’s for another time, if you’ll have any.) 

“I still remember all the fighting and yelling. For the longest time, that’s all I knew about marriage and relationships.”

“Did you think all relationships were like that? Fighting and yelling?” you ask.

“For a while, yeah. I’m still a little scared of that, to be honest. Ending up in a relationship where all you do is fight.” Kuroo sighs. “But that’s not the only thing. I thought I wouldn’t know how to love someone, growing up like that.” At that, your fingers pause in his hair.

“Wait,” you say, furrowing your brows. A wave of immense sadness (not for yourself, for him) washes over you. “You think you wouldn’t know how to love someone else?”

“Thought.” Kuroo cracks open his eyes and smiles up at you. “I’m in the process of changing my mind.”

[alirhi]

okay. let's do this shit.

Guess what, bitches? Mama bear's back and angry all over again. Remember when I said I might dive into a ragepost about how Bucky's treated after completing the one about Loki? This is it. This is the post. Welcome to fucking Thunderdome.

I will actually try to keep it civil. No promises, but I'll try. and I will not be accepting "constructive criticism" about my rage. Just so we're clear.

Got it? Good. Let's dive in.

In case you don't want to read the whole thing (I know I get wordy) here's what this whole post will boil down to: BUCKY NEVER HAD A FUCKING CHOICE. NEVER. NOT ONCE IN HIS ENTIRE ADULT LIFE.

Now, quick reminder: I don't read comics. I know nothing about Bucky's comic canon, except what Sebastian liked to bring up as often as possible during TWS/CW promotions: at some point, Bucky boned Nat. XD Since Bucky only exists as a Marvel property, I won't be bitching about other source material being disrespected like I did with Loki. This is all MCU, my dudes. And honestly? That's enough, because though we don't see nearly enough of Bucky for my liking, we do manage to get a rich, deep backstory to him in the material we're given, partly thanks to better writing in the early days of the MCU, and partly thanks to Sebastian Stan's phenomenal acting. Unlike the writers of the Loki series, Seb knows how to show, not tell. And gods, what stories those eyes show...

Let's start with the army. In an old post illustrating what an absolute BAMF Bucky Barnes truly is, I mistakenly said he enlisted, and a kind soul educated me on the incredible attention to detail Marvel used to pay - in this case, Bucky's ID number. 32557038. As this kind, eagle-eyed soul pointed out to me, the first two digits of that number - 32 - signify that Bucky was drafted, specifically from the NY, NJ, DE area (that last part is rather obvious, as Bucky and Steve are from Brooklyn lol). Bucky didn't choose to go to war. He was drafted. He was forced to fight, or go to prison.

Bucky was born in 1917, which means - again, as someone pointed out to me a while back - he came of age during the Great Depression. As a child, he would likely have seen his parents living comfortably and able to shower each other and him and his sister with gifts and fun memories, and then POOF. Stock market crashes when he's only 12-years-old, and life becomes brutal and painful. He manages to have some fun with his best friend Steve, and spends his teens/early 20s chasing girls and keeping his stupid, stubborn, tiny friend from getting beaten to death.

Steve constantly has something to prove. He's absolutely got what my mom always called "little man's disease", and Bucky's just doing his best not to roll his eyes too much at this asthmatic chihuahua constantly trying to beat up Tibetan mastiffs. While Steve keeps lying on his enlistment forms (an actual crime) trying again and again to get into the army and prove what a badass he is (definitely not), Bucky's had enough trauma and upheaval in his life and he just wants his stupid friend to calm tf down and live. Enjoy the fact that he doesn't have to go to war and get his limbs blown off.

And then he gets fucking drafted. This sweet, resigned realist who knows exactly how dangerous the war really is, is forced to put on a uniform and go fight strangers alongside other strangers thousands of miles from everything he knows. And on his last night of freedom, when he just wants to hang out with his friend, see some cool gadgets, and dance with a pretty girl, his stupid angry chihuahua friend feels the need to lie and try to enlist again.

Okay. Gotta get back on track. Ragepost about mistreatment of Bucky, not how much Steve annoys me. Sorry. Anyway...

Bucky's drafted, accepts his shitty lot with a brave smile, and is shipped off to Europe, where he is captured by HYDRA and presumed by the Allies to be KIA. Instead, he's strapped down, tortured, and given the HYDRA version of the super serum against his will. Steve rescues him, and Bucky knows he can't leave his idiot friend to his own devices to get his head blown off, so he dives right back into the fray. And then he falls off a cliff, loses most of his left arm, and is declared dead...again. This one's pretty damn valid, though lol. Without the serum no one knew he'd been shot up with, there is no way he would have survived that fall.

Here is where Bucky's story gets truly heartbreaking: His autonomy, his ability to consent is stripped from him through electroshock torture/brainwashing. The trigger words are conditioned into him during this process, and boom. Ten words in Russian, and Bucky Barnes is gone. Even the confused, hurting shadow of him is gone, leaving only a perfectly obedient killing machine, with Bucky's pretty face. He's strong as all hell, though, so they can't keep him fully under their control for long, not without more torture, when the disorientation of being fucking frozen wears off on longer missions.

I cannot stress this point enough, guys: Bucky. Had. No. Choice. Not like the draft, where his choices (go and get shot at, refuse and go to jail, or dodge and run to Canada) just suck. No, he literally didn't have a choice. He had his ability to choose stripped from him. If that's too complex a concept to really sink in, try this: His brain was fucking raped. Repeatedly. For decades. Nothing the Winter Soldier ever did was Bucky's fault. Nothing. Ever. Not remotely, no matter how you fucking slice it. Bucky is not an assassin. I almost said "not a killer", but he was a soldier, and a sharpshooter. He definitely killed when he was himself, but that was in a war, not a series of assassinations.

So far, imo, so good. This is just a rundown of Bucky's pre-show backstory. I don't love what he had to suffer, but I do love how it was treated in the movies. People were afraid of him, but when they knew the whole situation, Steve, Nat, and Sam rallied behind him. Natasha had plenty of reason to want the Winter Soldier dead; he'd tried to kill her multiple times and almost succeeded. Sam had no reason to help Bucky at all; he didn't know him, didn't trust him, and again, TWS had tried to kill him. But he stood by Steve, and when Bucky showed the clear difference between himself and TWS, Sam stood by him, too, and fought alongside him.

And it's very realistic, imo, that Tony didn't give a single fuck that Bucky had no choice. He watched this man murder both of his parents on tape. If TWS had killed my dad and I saw proof of it, I'd try to kill Bucky, too. Grief wins out over logic. Most emotions usually do. And that's a very important point we're going to come back to in a few minutes.

Bucky was really only in like ten minutes at most of IW and Endgame, and for multiple reasons I hate those movies, so I'm just gonna skip them, kay? Kay. On to the main event!

Here's where I get pissed off. Even if I didn't have an unhealthy attachment to this character, or the depth of appreciation for his tragic backstory that I do, the lack of continuity between the movies and the show alone would still piss me off. It always does. Don't even get me started on Joss "Continuity? What continuity?" Whedon and his (iconic, but flawed) shows. Ahem. Back on track...

Let me just get one little thing out of the way real quick: I fucking LOVE The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. I love it. This show amazed me when I first watched it, and I still love it after many more viewings lol. I have only ever watched it all the way through without skipping over as much John Walker shit as possible the one time lol but I love how Sam and Bucky interact, and I fucking adore how Sam's arc was treated. I just wish they'd show the same care and attention to Bucky.

Because what they did to Bucky in this show is a fucking travesty. There was a tiny ray of hope in the pilot, when he called out Dr. Bitchface for being a terrible shrink. I thought that would be the start of him realizing he needed to find someone else and ignore the damaging shit that woman was telling him. But...nope. No such luck.

The show really had a strong start, I'll give it that. We see Bucky having nightmares of his time as TWS and struggling to hide how his traumatic memories are affecting him as he tries to live in the world again. He befriends the father of one of HYDRA's victims, which can't be good for Bucky (and we're shown it's definitely not when he sees the shrine in Yori's home to his late son) but it's sweet, how he's trying to connect and reach out to someone who's hurting and lonely.

They drop the ball a little with the whole... Bucky can hack a fucking car, but can't figure out Tinder thing. Had they just run with the fandom interpretation of the tiger photos line, that it shows that Bucky is bi and left it at that, I'd have been okay with it (and no, that is not because I ship Sam/Bucky. it's because Bucky is and always has been a certified nerd who loves technology and has consistently shown very little issue learning to use new gadgets). The outdated flip phone he handed his terrible court-mandated shrink was a burner; I liked that theory when I read it, especially since it's the only time we see him even holding a phone that old lol. This all could have fit the "Bucky is a sassy bisexual nerd" narrative and it'd be okay. Instead, the director was like "NOOOOOO that line was just to show how old he is and how he can't figure out all this newfangled technology!" Woman, you had him remotely driving someone else's vehicle with a tablet. That is NOT a man who can't figure out a damn smart phone!

But that's just a minor annoyance. What fills me with absolute rage is how everyone - not just the shitty therapist who lashes out at and purposely triggers her traumatized patients, but EVERYONE - Sam, Zemo, people who should fucking know better ALL treat him like he's a psychopath and a ticking time bomb. Like he chose to take the serum and he chose to kill for HYDRA, and he's just seen the error of his ways. *barf*

Bucky in the movies is established to be a victim, through and through. His guilt over what he was forced to do is natural, and that he sees himself as a monster makes sense... but that doesn't mean it's correct. The one and only thing I ever liked about Steve Rogers is at least he got it. He pointed out that none of it was Bucky's fault, he tried to show him that he was worth saving. That's the other reason I refuse to talk about Endgame. This post will get a WHOLE LOT LONGER and a lot fucking angrier if I open that door.

Zemo supposedly knows everything about HYDRA and super soldiers... So why does he treat Bucky like he's a corrupt serial killer? (this, for the record, is why I don't like Zemo) Why does he never point out that Bucky was given the serum against his will, or that his actions, when he had control of them, proved that he was never corrupted? Bucky never wanted to become superhuman. Bucky didn't even want to fucking fight!

Sam, despite constantly resisting the label, is shown very clearly to be Bucky's friend. By episode 3, he cares. He worries about how Bucky is getting lumped in with the other super soldiers in Zemo's speech... But he never really defends him. He says "what about Bucky?" but he doesn't point out that Bucky's a good man, he's fought so hard to help people, he does everything he can to avoid killing... And that fucking speech in episode 5. I was with him on "you gotta stop looking to other people to tell you who you are." I was like "YEAH! Tell him, Sam! Bucky, you're WORTH SAVING, boo! Your value does not hinge on someone else's opinion of you!" And then... Sam dropped the ball.

He not only continued the disturbing pattern of victim-blaming in this show, and in Marvel/Disney properties in general, but he gave really dangerously bad advice! No one in their right mind, mental health professional or no, would EVER tell a traumatized former assassin (whether he was responsible for his actions or not) to go confront his victims' families out of the blue with no warning and no one to mediate and keep things from going to shit. Yori already knew his son had been murdered because he was in the "wrong place, wrong time." How is it being "of service" to tell him you're the one who killed him?! Remember how I said Tony's reaction to learning the full truth about his parents' deaths was valid and would be an important point later? Hi! Welcome to later. THAT is the natural reaction to facing the man who murdered your loved one(s). And even if Yori didn't get angry and lash out, HOW IS IT "HELPING" HIM OR BRINGING HIM "CLOSURE" TO KNOW THAT HIS FRIEND KILLED HIS FUCKING SON?!?!?! This man befriended him, bonded with him, watched him grieve... And now he's learning this is the man who caused all his pain and heartache to begin with? That is so toxic and psycho I just... I can't even... UGH.

And then there's the equally toxic and damaging "deeply traumatized person just needed a stern talking to and a hug to be ALL BETTER AGAIN" ending. I loved seeing Bucky happy and socializing, but it was too soon, and it was unearned. And it sends a fucking awful message to people actually struggling with PTSD, and to their loved ones who don't know how to help them. Heaping more blame on them and then hugging it out is NOT helpful!

This show could have been damn near perfect with just two changes. That's all. Just two. 1) Someone, anyone, bringing up the reasons why Bucky was never a villain in his presence. Someone being in his corner and reminding him, like Steve did, that it wasn't his fault and he's not going to "snap". 2) More time devoted to Bucky's healing. Actual fucking healing, not the shit they tried to pass off as a magic fix-all. He can have his happy barbecue moment, just don't frame it as "everything's great now!" Healing isn't linear, and there will be both good days and bad. Some of the most fragile people in the world have the brightest smiles.

If we get a season 2, which this amazing show absolutely deserves, and they address this stuff, all will be forgiven in my book. Expanding on his story and his journey toward healing will help to reframe that "happily ever after" garbage as something more realistic. But as it stands now... Fuck Marvel.

[luminecho]

Hello Echo, question. Do you still have Four brainrot? Follow up question. Do you have any songs that you associate with Four? Thanks bestie <3

Answer 1: Steel, I ALWAYS have Four brainrot <3

Answer 2: I am literally SO FUCKING GLAD you asked, you have no idea how excited I got seeing this holy shit. HELL YEAH I do!! Take a few songs from my playlist

If I include more than 3 Sleeping At Last, Of Monsters And Men, or The Oh Hellos songs on any given playlist or list of songs you may be entitled to financial compensatio-- *looks at this list* oh whoops

1) Crystals - Of Monsters And Men - this might as well be Four’s theme song for all I associate it with him. It’s so good. So so so good.

2) Call Them Brothers - Regina Spektor - Obligatory Call Them Brothers mention. This is not original at all I've seen so many other people talk about this song with Four and-- yeah they're right this song is about Four JKHEHBFDEKF.

3) Bad Blood - Sleeping At Last - I'm biased. If you know me then expect way too many SAL songs from me in any list of songs ever because I will never shut up about SAL and they have a lot of songs I like. So there's 4 SAL songs on this list, deal with it jhkwewjkwjkfh. Anyway Bad Blood gives me so many Four feels. 11/10

3) Soap - The Oh Hellos - THIS SONNGG. Ouugghh. I could probably dissect this song if I wanted to go over every little thing in it that makes me think of Four & why but I already exhausted my song infodumping capacity on the last song on this list so perhaps some other time HDEGJDDEKF. Just. The vibes AND the lyrics. Mannn

4) Forgive Me Friend - Smith & Thell - I have both the original and the acoustic version saved to my Four playlist because I really like both versions hwdfjefke but. There's so many ways this song could be interpreted w/ Four and tbh I'm just gonna leave it up to everyone else because every time I listen to it I think of something else lol.

5) Meteor Shower - Cavetown - I don't have much to say about this one other than thinking about this song gives me a LOT of emotions jhqkdhwbefjk. Just,,, it has a lot of self-acceptance vibes to me when I listen to it in this context and I think I'm drawing those comfort vibes from the melody? Idk but they're there for me lol

6) Glitter & Gold - Barns Courtney - Someone did a mini AMV to this song w/ Four a while back for the LU zine and I've associated the song with him ever since hwdkjgefhkfev. I like the vibes. Reminds me of the forge.

7) Lakehouse - Of Monsters And Men - Idk what it is about this song. It has a mix of homesickness feels and storytelling feels and something about that makes me think of Four. Also there's a line about breaking trust in here somewhere heehee hoohoo Vio go brr.

8) I Dare You - Bea Miller - my brain can't decide if I actually like this song or not for some reason buuuut it has big Four vibes regardless lmao. Mostly in the lyrics. Definitely in the lyrics

9) No Light, No Light - Florence + The Machine - based more off the vibes of the song than the lyrics. i don't really have an explanation for this one, it's just always given me Four vibes for no reason hdwkjfgeh. Shadow too. I have it one both playlists

10) I Have Made Mistakes - The Oh Hellos - probably self-indulgent but this one has the self-acceptance and self-forgiveness vibes than go hand and hand with Four as a character so <3

11) From The Ground Up - Sleeping At Last - something about the line "in an effort to remember what being mended feels like" shakes me to my core. Am I allowed to slap the "self-acceptance" label on this song and call it a day? Cause,,, yeah the self love in this song. Ough. Also the themes of growth and being somewhere that's truly home.

12) Overture III / Awake - Sleeping At Last - Bestie this one's so self-indulgent. This song is pretty new and when I tell you that I latched onto it the DAY I first heard it FTHDGHWJKEFG. I connect so deeply with this song and I can and will project every emotion I experience ever onto Four which means he gets this song too. <3 Also it once again has themes of self-acceptance

13) September 15, 2017: Cassini - The Grand Finale - Sleeping At Last - OH MY GOD *VIBRATES INTO THE FIFTH DIMENSION*

Alright alright alright. Listen. This song is entirely instrumental. So why do I associate it with Four, you may ask?

WELLLLLLLL.

First of all, happy anniversary to the event this song was written about! Or-- well, it was the anniversary when this ask was sent djwhfkhjdewjhke. I took a while to answer it. BUT still. Happy anniversary!

Second of all, strap in cause I’m about to infodump the hell out of this song on my way to explaining my reasoning behind why I associate it with Four. It might seem irrelevant at first but trust me, I’ll get there.

(All the stuff I mention here is all explained in a much better fashion by the artist behind Sleeping At Last on his podcast episode about the song here. I'd absolutely recommend giving it a listen if you're interested!)

Cassini was written about a satellite with the same name that was built with the intention of exploring Saturn. On September 15, 2017, its journey was complete and its course was set to crash into Saturn in a brilliant grand finale. Hence the name of the song.

This song is a medley of four of Sleeping At Last’s songs, written as a mirror of the exact flight path of the Cassini satellite. (SAL has songs about each of the 9 planets + our moon.)

The song starts and ends with Saturn. The beginning is a chorus singing the tune of SAL's "Saturn" and the ending is that the song on the "Astronomy, Vol. 1" album leads straight into SAL’s "Saturn" to symbolize Cassini crashing into the planet. Cool, right?

After the opening the song crescendos with SAL’s "Earth" to represent Cassini’s launch. Cassini passed by Venus twice in its flight, so the part of the song immediately after that is from SAL's "Venus". The next part of the song (and ofc the next part of Cassini’s flight) is Jupiter! It’s very faint and distant since Cassini only passed by the planet. Aaand then finally it reaches Saturn.

Now what does any of this have to do with Four?

Welllllll, it's all a bit of a stretch but LET ME HAVE THIS hdgjhkjdwef.

I mentioned that Cassini is a medley of 4 different SAL songs.

Venus could easily be associated with Red! It’s a love song and love of course comes from the heart and all that. But it’s also a song that reflects wonder and awe and I feel like that’s a very Red feeling.

Jupiter is a song I associate a lot with Green, not only because of the song itself but also because of the planet and Green’s wind element. Jupiter is well-known for its storms! So it seems fitting for Green. Jupiter is one of the songs I have on my separate playlist for Green too. It has vibes of instinct and wanting to make things count and make a difference which I feel like fits him.

I feel like Saturn and Earth are interchangeable with Blue and Vio. I’d probably tentatively assign Blue to Earth and Vio to Saturn for now despite Earth being Vio’s element and me generally associating that song with him a lot more than Blue anyway. Saturn is a song about loss and trying to move on and I think Vio encompasses that feeling and experience. It’s very melancholy and slower-paced too, which fits Vio more. Whereas Earth is a very powerful, somewhat explosive song (which fits Blue’s vibe) about ignorance and possibly arrogance. ALSO if you go with Blue as Earth then it works even nicer because Earth and Venus are woven together very closely in Cassini. Which could represent how Blue & Red are both the "heart" of Four compared to Vio's mind and Green's instinct.

And ALL of these songs are packed into Cassini into a convenient little medley. Four songs blending seamlessly into one another creating a whole song that makes me want to throw my hands in the air and weep.

And how perfect that the day Steel sent this ask is coincidentally the anniversary of the day the song is about. jhkqdwfgehf. It was meant to be :>

[zaffrenotes]

[TRR x ES] Viewing Party

Book: The Royal Romance & Endless Summer Pairings: Liam x MC (Katrina Bailey), Drake x OC (Alyssa Devereaux), Jake x MC (Laurel) Rating/Warnings: G; mild innuendo Author’s Note: * All main characters belong to Pixelberry, I’m just borrowing them * Katrina Bailey & Laurel are the MCs I use when writing fanfic for TRR and ES, respectively; Alyssa Devereaux belongs to birthday girl @burnsoslow​ * This is my submission for @wackydrabbles​​ Prompt 80: Stop looking at me like that. * Author’s Note 2: * This is a birthday gift for my cheesy, potato loving homegirl Burnsie, who requested her very first Endless Summer/Jake fic, despite having never read any ES fic until now 🙈 for the sole reason being that she and Jake McKenzie are almost birthday twins, and my favorite pilot turns 30 this year. If you’re unfamiliar with canon ES trivia, Jake can hold his breath for 9 minutes, and Estela can hold her breath for an astonishing 14. This isn’t entirely what I had in mind when I set out to write an ES/Jake birthday fic, but I wasn’t about to miss your day because I’ve hit a whole ass writer’s wall, Burnsie! I hope you have an AMAZING day and I’m sending you so many hugs! You’re one of the sweetest ladies here, and I am so very thankful that I can call you a friend 🥰 also my real, real gift to you is coming at a later date, as I still have to work on it 😬 * and yes, that’s DDT in the moodboard - just for Burnsie, again - since I use Barnes as Drake’s FC in my TRR fics, lol * Word Count: 2000 on the dot!

It was nearly 10:00 PM on Friday evening, when Burns arranged things around the comfiest chair in her living room. The rest of her family already retired for the evening, after a small but wonderful birthday celebration in her honor at home. Within easy reach, she’d arranged drinks and snacks next to her laptop - a glass of water, a hot mug of tea, a slice of homemade birthday cake to take care of any sugar cravings, and a small platter of cheese and crackers for something more savory. She grinned softly at the newest addition to her mug collection, watching the steam rise from the contents within. 

The lavender mug arrived in the mail earlier that day from one of her friends, emblazoned with a quote from David Rose. Burns took a sip of the warm beverage before setting it down on the small side table and situated herself in the chair. She flipped open the laptop and pulled up a browser window, smiling at a gift from another friend - there was a sticker next to the trackpad with a drawing of a wedge of Swiss, quoting another memorable line from Schitt’s Creek, reminding her to “fold in the cheese.” Burns glanced to the time on the screen and logged in to her Netflix account, clicking until she arrived at the viewing party, and began typing to join the group chat. 

She was greeted with jubilant messages from Donna, Ella, Brandy, Anitah, and half a dozen other friends, wishing her a happy birthday before the show started. They’d formed an ever-growing viewing party for a new series titled Stranded in the Orchard, which was an odd amalgamation of Survivor and Gilligan’s Island. Taking a cue from reality tv competitions, there were hidden cameras all over the island to monitor everyone and reduce production crew intervention, and in a nod to Hunger Games, there was an omnipresent host that would drop messages to signal when challenges were about to take place. After four episodes, the ladies in the watching party started picking their favorites from the two teams. 

Team Ruby consisted of a group that appeared to have been shipwrecked onto the island. Leo was dubbed The Rogue; his brother Liam was The CEO; Katrina was The Attorney; Alyssa was The Teacher; Drake was The Cowboy; Olivia was The Weapons Expert; Bertrand was The Grump; Madeleine was The Whiner; Maxwell was Bertrand’s brother and The Jester; Hana was The Jill of All Trades. Bertrand and Madeleine had already been voted off when Ruby lost two events. 

Team Catalyst consisted of a group of mostly college students. Jake was The Pilot; Laurel was The Mystery Girl; Sean was The Coach; Michelle was The Doctor, even though she was only pre-med; Craig was The Muscle; Zahra was The Engineer; Aleister was The Slick One; Grace was The Brain; Diego was The Entertainer; Estela was The Huntress. Catalyst lost the last two events, which sent Aleister and Grace packing. 

Everyone settled in to watch the opening credits as they recapped last week’s episode, where Ruby won the immunity challenge and fishing gear by building a makeshift stretcher to rescue and carry Katrina from a jungle crash site to a first aid station on the beach; Catalyst voted Grace out. Burns popped a cheese cube into her mouth as she and her friends watched the two groups deal with day-to-day chores in their respective camps on Day 14 of the show. They chatted about the team members and how much Burns wanted to see Drake take off his shirt to go in the water, despite the knowledge that there were clips of him cuddling with Alyssa; Donna, Ella, and Anitah would keysmash in the group chat any time Liam appeared on the screen, even though he and Katrina were clearly sweet on each other, while Brandy and Alyssa Lauren would ask what was happening or who someone was from the Catalyst team.

—

“Pillows and blankets are nice, but what we could really use is food,” Maxwell said, drawing an octopus in the sand with a piece of driftwood. “I don’t know how much longer I can last on coconuts and rice.” 

“Liam and Drake took the raft out this morning to try fishing with the gear, maybe they’ll get lucky,” Katrina suggested, stirring the pot of rice in the fire. She set the lid on top and stood up from her kimchi squat position, dusting some errant sand off her leg. They both looked out towards the water, as dawn stretched out across the ocean, making out shadowy forms of their friends as they bobbed in the water, just before one of them went under the surface. Behind them, the rest of their friends began to stir awake from the scent of rice cooking. 

Back at the Catalyst camp, Jake sat by the campfire with Estela; they were working on making their own fishing gear from bamboo and camp supplies after losing the previous challenge. Jake fed a length of twine through a handmade fishing pole while Estela sharpened tips on one end of a pile of branches she’d gathered. “Whatcha whittlin’, Katniss?” 

Estela glanced at Jake sideways. “Stakes. Hand over some of that twine, I need it to bind these to make spears.” With a begrudging huff, Jake unfurled the twine and ran it against the edge of the makeshift bench he was sitting on to cut it, before tossing the rest at Estela. 

“How fast can you tie those off? We’re losin’ daylight for a morning catch, if you wanna ride on the raft with me.” 

“Five minutes,” she answered, already working nimbly around a branch to secure the whittled spikes. 

The screen cut back to Ruby’s camp, where Liam and Drake stepped ashore, smiles brighter than the sunrise as Drake held up a fish trap with small rays flapping against one another. 

—

“kjsdhfksjhfksjhfks,” Burns smashed into her keyboard. “Look at my man! With the sea bounty!” 

“mevmnbvmnxb,” Ella smashed back.

“How do you know Drake did all the work? Liam’s just as wet, hahaha,” Donna chortled in response.

—

After killing their catch as humanely as possible - with Alyssa turning her face to Drake’s chest to avoid witnessing it - Leo and Olivia gutted and cleaned the rays before setting them on top of their makeshift grill to cook. Liam and Drake regaled the group with their morning under the water, as they took turns fishing. 

While Team Ruby enjoyed some protein with their rice that morning, members of the Catalyst team glumly spooned rice into their mouths as they sat around the campfire while Jake and Estela dried off; their morning fishing trip had been unsuccessful. 

Later that day, both teams received messages from the host to gather for a reward challenge. Each team made their way to a small lagoon, where they saw a structure floating in the water. A booming voice overhead instructed them to swim out to the structure and await further instructions. Once everyone from both teams had done so, a blue holographic image of the host appeared in the center to explain the rules. “The challenge is simple,” she narrated. “We want to see who can hold their breath the longest. There’s a bar you can use to keep yourself from floating up if you need it. Last one standing earns the prize for the whole team — an overnight trip at the Celestial Hotel, where our rotating film crew goes to rest. You’ll be treated to clean sheets and towels, hot showers, along with a decadent dinner and breakfast menu the next morning, before having to return to your camp.” 

Everyone’s eyes lit up at the incentive of a night away from sleeping on the beach, away from mosquitos, rodents, and the threat of being waterlogged by passing storms. Stomachs gurgled at the thought of hot meals that didn’t consist of rice, and the possibility of cocktails or wine. “Oh, we got this,” Jake murmured quietly to Laurel. “Bet I can hold my breath longer’n any of those Ruby kids.” 

“Is that so?” Leo taunted, overhearing Jake’s comment.

“Just call me Poseidon,” Jake smirked. 

“We’ll see about that,” Leo replied. “You know most of us are from an island, right? We’re basically merpeople.” 

—

“Bets! Bets on who wins this!” Brandy typed into the chat window.

“Sticking with Drake,” Burns typed. “Maybe Hana. She could have another random talent up her sleeve.” 

“My money’s on Liam. Look how broad his chest is,” Anya replied. “He’s got to have massive lungs to match.”

“That makes no sense,” Ella typed, adding a laughing emoji. “But I’m Team Liam anyway.”

“Don’t hate me,” Donna began. “Something tells me Jake isn’t boasting right now.” 

From her screen at home, Alyssa Lauren used Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe to choose Zahra. The rest of the group picked their favorites as the castaways donned goggles and got into the water. 

—

“Ready? Set! Go!” 

Sixteen heads dipped under the water’s surface, with contestants pinching their noses and puffing out their cheeks as an underwater camera filmed them. A handful of them - Olivia, Alyssa, Maxwell, Diego, and Michelle - tapped out under a minute. As the sand settled, thirty seconds passed before Katrina, Laurel, Sean, and Drake headed to the surface. Just after the two minute mark, Hana, Craig, and Zahra gave up, leaving Jake, Liam, Estela, and Leo under the water. 

Jake looked positively peaceful, sandy brown hair swaying with ease in the water. Estela tapped her fingers lightly across the bamboo rod, counting each second as it passed. Liam glanced over to his brother, who’d begun to turn pink. Half a minute later, Leo popped up to the surface, muttering to himself out of frustration. 

Three minutes in, Liam surfaced, gasping for air, leaving Jake and Estela to battle it out between themselves. Even though the hologram host blasted a horn to signal the end of the challenge, neither Catalyst member surfaced. Liam ducked down to check on them, and Jake and Estela both signaled that they were fine. Everyone continued to wait as the pair spent minute after minute under the water.

—

“Seriously? They’re on the same team!” Anitah typed. “They won already!” 

“They’ve been underwater for a scary length of time,” Brandy added. “What are they, Navy SEALs or something?” 

“I think Jake mentioned he was actually in the Navy before,” Alyssa Lauren replied. 

—

A digital clock appeared in the corner of the screen as the two Catalyst members continued to hold their breath underwater. With each passing minute, members from both groups began to worry. After eight minutes passed, the host’s voice rang out, advising them to pull Jake and Estela up from the water to end the challenge. Laurel and Craig ducked down, eventually pulling their teammates up. “Congratulations to The Catalysts!” the host exclaimed. “A boat will be waiting at your camp to take you to the hotel.” 

Laurel swatted Jake’s arm as they made their way to the shore. “What’s wrong with you!? You were underwater for nearly ten minutes! Who does that!?” 

Jake looked over his shoulder to her with a grin, mischievous sparkle in his bright blue eyes. “Ten would be a new record, my best is nine.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Imagine nine uninterrupted minutes of me holding my breath, Princess. My birthday is tomorrow, and I know exactly how I wanna celebrate,” he winked.  

Laurel’s cheeks flushed at the suggestion. “Stop looking at me like that, Top Gun.”

—

That evening at the hotel, after a sumptuous feast of lobster, crab, and an endless supply of beer and wine, the Catalyst members eventually went to bed. Much later into the night, Jake was seen sneaking into Laurel’s room. 

—

“I KNEW IT!” Burns typed. She laughed as her friends typed in responses full of lemon, fire, pepper, and eggplant emojis. She popped another cheese cube into her mouth and smiled, watching the rest of the episode play out.

[justanother-unluckysoul]

Whumptober #23

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Rating: G

Word count: 535

Summary: Returning from a hunt, Dean just wants to sleep, while Sam has the giggles and who thought it was a good idea to let him drive anyway? A bit of silliness for Whumptober prompt #23: What's A Whumpee Got To Do To Get Some Sleep Around Here?

A/N: I had big plans to write some proper whumpy sleep deprivation torture stuff for this prompt but this is what my brain came up with instead lol

Read on FFN

Ode To Sleep

Around 2am, things start going fuzzy and for once, Dean's thankful to have Sam at the wheel. His eyes are burning, head drooping. The shadows at the edge of the road seem to creep closer.

"Dean, stay awake."

Sam prods Dean in the ribs and Dean flinches.

"Stop it," he snaps.

"I don't want to carry you to the room."

Sam glances over at him for a moment, eyes intense. Dean glares back and wishes his little brother were actually in focus.

"Dean, if you fall asleep, I will take you to the hospital."

A low blow. It's just a few cuts and bruises, nothing dangerous. Nothing they can't handle. But it was a long night and Dean's flagging, while Sam's exhaustion manifests in an almost manic way.

"No, you won't."

"Yeah? And how would you stop me, Dean? You'd be unconscious."

Dean has no comeback for that. He runs his hand over his face and rests his head against the passenger window.

"Dean," Sam says insistently, and pokes him again.

"The next time you poke me, I’ll stab you."

Sam rolls his eyes.

"Sure you will. Look, we're almost there. You can pass out once we get inside."

"I won't be passing out. I'll be going to sleep."

"Whatever, man. Talk to me about something. Anything."

Dean's mind immediately goes blank, conveniently forgetting everything he's ever learned or heard or done in his entire life.

"Uh..."

"A story. Tell me a story, Dean."

A story. He can do that. Right? His brain doesn't cooperate.

"Ok. It doesn't matter," Sam says, his fingers tapping restlessly against the steering wheel, "Tell me how you like your coffee."

"Black."

"Why?"

"Uh... I dunno. It's better."

Sam rolls his eyes.

"Since when do you have problem talking, Dean? Just talk about anything, I don't care."

Since he's this tired, apparently.

"I met a girl at-"

Sam smacks his arm immediately.

"Anything but that!"

But now he's giggling like he's drunk and Dean can't stop laughing either and he thinks that they are probably way too tired to be still driving anywhere at all.

"Dude, watch where you're going, we're gonna crash," he says, and by Sam's reaction that's the funniest thing he's ever said.

It’s about that point Dean becomes legitimately concerned that they will drive off the road, but Sam manages to pull himself back together. The conversation dies and Dean's will to stay awake is quick to follow it. His breaths are slow, his eyelids heavy. One slow blink. Another. It's so hard to keep opening them.

"Dean."

"What?"

"We're here."

Dean forces himself out of the car, legs dragging. His whole body dragging.

"Dibs on the shower," Sam says, still somewhat hyper, shouldering past him as they enter the room.

Screw showering, Dean just wants sleep. He thinks the bed might be the most beautiful thing he's seen in his life and he collapses onto it. Exhaustion pulls him down. He probably should have at least taken his jacket off, spared the blankets from the dirt and blood that's on it. Not his blood, thankfully, nor Sam's. But he can't bring himself to care. He doesn't even hear the shower turn on. He's already asleep.

END

[unfolded73]

“I Love You” (1/1) - schitt’s creek ff

The second of a series of snapshot fics centered around stages in David and Patrick's relationship. Dug this fic out of my google doc graveyard and finished it! It's funny, when you actually finish fics, you can post them, lol. Set just after 4x12: Singles Week. (ao3)

Rated Teen, 2800 words. Previous fic in this series: Boyfriends

__________________________________

David unlocked his motel room and entered the quiet, empty space. Closing the door, the room dimmed until the only source of light was a tiny sliver of morning sunshine where the curtains gaped. He flipped on a lamp, dropped his overnight bag on his bed, and began gathering up a change of clothes before he showered.

“Morning, kids.” His dad barged in, looking around at the unslept-in room. “Where’s your sister?”

David rolled his eyes. “Didn’t Mom tell you about what happened yesterday? I’m sure she’s at Ted’s.”

“Eh, she mentioned something about Ted making a grand gesture in the café, I suppose…”

“Yeah, and Alexis has been pining after him for-basically-ever, so they may not get out of bed for days.” David wouldn’t have minded a few days in bed himself, because it turned out that sex with someone willing to whisper ‘I love you’ into your ear at the most perfect, incandescent moment was pretty great. His knees still felt a little wobbly, and he didn’t really feel like talking to his father at the moment.

“And where were you last night?”

David huffed. “At Patrick’s. Where else would I be?” Ray had been home but David hadn’t been able to muster any worry about it. Patrick loved him. It still seemed impossible that Patrick hadn’t lost interest in him a long time ago, and instead somehow loved him. And was willing to say so. And even more miraculously, David had been willing to say it back.

“We can’t rent this room to paying customers, you know, so we expect you to actually sleep here,” his father said.

“And we do a lot of the time.” But for the first time in a long time, a future was starting to take shape in David’s mind where they wouldn’t. A future where Alexis moved in with Ted, and maybe he and Patrick got a place together. A happy future for him and his sister, something David would have doubted could possibly exist a few years ago. And not just because they lost all of their money. “But we are adults, in adult relationships, so sometimes we don’t sleep here.” He picked up his bundle of clothes and stepped around his father, intent on a shower.

“Well, I just—”

“I mean, Alexis and I are both in healthy relationships for once. With healthy, well-adjusted people who — in spite of our considerable emotional baggage — have decided we’re worthy of love. You should be, I don’t know, throwing a fucking parade, not harranging me about where we’re sleeping.”

His father looked taken aback at David’s forcefulness, and he held his hands up in a yielding gesture. “Okay. Sorry, sorry.”

David let out a deep breath and consciously relaxed his shoulders. “It’s fine. Did you need something?”

“Oh. Your mother and I are headed over to the café for breakfast; would you like to join us?”

David shook his head. “I can’t; I’ve gotta shower and change and be back at the store soon. I can’t leave Patrick to deal with all the Singles Week shoppers by himself.” He stepped into the bathroom and started to close the door, but his father reached out and stopped it with his hand.

“I am happy for you that you’re so happy, David. You and Alexis deserve all the happiness, you really do.”

He wanted to say something snarky, but his father’s sincerity made all the attitude bleed away. “Thanks.”

As David stood under the shower spray, his mind replayed the last day, the way Patrick had gently teased him about his love for Mariah while still somehow taking it completely seriously. The way he’d smiled when David was able to say those words back to him.

The thing was, when Patrick said ‘I love you,’ it was clear he’d been thinking it for a while. Weeks, probably. Or months. Whereas David really hadn’t been. No, that wasn’t exactly true — he had been thinking it, just not using the words. He hadn’t let himself even think the word ‘love’, not after how many times he’d been hurt. Not that he hadn’t been feeling it. In retrospect, he’d probably fallen in love with Patrick when he sang at their first open mic night. Or maybe that night they’d spent at Stevie’s. Or on their first date. Or when Patrick offered to help with the store. But now he’d thought the words — he’d said them — and it was like a champagne cork that once popped out of the bottle, couldn’t be reinserted. He was fairly certain he’d repeated it in the throes of passion last night himself, a memory somehow both mortifying and sexy.

Alexis came home as he was finishing with his hair.

“Oh,” she said, looking surprised that he was there. “I thought you’d be at the store.”

“I’m on my way now,” he said, examining himself in the mirror one last time before moving to gather his belongings.

“Okay,” she said, and then she crashed into him and hugged him.

“Ew, what’s going on?” David said, but he hugged her back before he extracted himself.

“Ted told me you guys talked.”

“Oh. I wish he hadn’t.”

“David, I basically owe you for the fact that Ted and I got back together so would you please just accept my gratitude?”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He continued getting his bag organized for the day. “And while we’re being emotionally vulnerable to an uncomfortable degree… what’s been going on with you and Ted might’ve inspired some declarations of love in my own relationship,” David said, feeling like his throat was actively trying to close up before he confessed anything so heartfelt to Alexis.

“David!” Alexis clapped her hands. “Have you ever said that to anyone before?”

“Not in the context of a romantic relationship, no.”

She squeaked. “You and Patrick are so cute,” Alexis said with her limp-wristed hands held up high under her chin like she was a hamster. Or perhaps the implication was that he and Patrick were hamsters.

David rolled his eyes and picked up his bag. “I’m going now.” Just before he closed the motel door behind him, he added, “I’m glad things worked out with Ted.”

~*~

David felt a surprisingly intense swoop in his stomach when he walked into the store and saw Patrick over against the far wall helping a customer, which was weird. If the love between them wasn’t new, only newly spoken aloud, why was seeing Patrick making him as weak in the knees as he’d felt in those first couple of weeks that they had been together?

Okay, perhaps it had a little something to do with how intimate the sex had felt between them last night. David could readily admit that his breadth of experience hadn’t prepared him for what it felt like to have the weight of Patrick’s love bearing down on him at the same time he pressed inside — slow, careful thrusts that David could barely process the physical sensation of when Patrick was staring into his eyes like that. Like he was precious.

David went to drop his belongings in the storeroom and to try to gain back some of his equilibrium. He needed to not be a mess. Patrick was so solid and sure about saying he loved him yesterday. Patrick took love for granted, growing up the way he had, spending most of his adult life loving Rachel with all the capacity that he’d had to love her. Loving his parents. Loving his cousins and aunts and uncles. Loving his baseball team. Loving his hockey team. Loving his math teacher, probably. David was the one so starved of love for most of his life that the very concept had seemed foreign to him a few years ago.

Hearing the bell above the door ring, David emerged to see if the customer count had increased or decreased. If the former, he needed to help on the floor. If the latter, he and Patrick were alone in the store.

It was the latter.

Patrick was behind the register, and he gave David one of those angelic smiles that reminded him of that morning after their first kiss, when David had been half-convinced when he walked through the door that Patrick was about to let him down easy. Tell him that he’d woken up realizing that he was actually straight, or that David wasn’t his type, or one of fifty other reasons David had begun concocting the second that Alexis asked ‘And you’re sure he wanted that?’ Instead Patrick had given him one of these smiles and had kissed his cheek and had told him a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“Hey,” Patrick said, kissing David briefly on the lips and then giving him a smirk. “Long time, no see.”

“Mmm.”

“Gwen was in earlier,” Patrick said as he moved behind David to get a box of facial cleanser from the stack next to the door. “What’s the deal with her and Bob, anyway? Did we figure out if he knows he’s in an open relationship?”

“I don’t know,” David said, not in the mood to gossip and Bob and Gwen. Well, he was never really in the mood to gossip about Bob and Gwen, but especially now he wasn’t. He wanted to recapture that perfect intimacy that he’d felt with Patrick yesterday. He wanted Patrick’s eyes on him. He wanted to be the sole focus of Patrick’s attention. He craved it.

Patrick, apparently, wanted to restock the facial cleanser.

David’s brain started to spin out. Should he have told Patrick ‘I love you’ this morning already? How soon should he say it again? How frequently should he say it? Just wait until it comes up naturally in conversation, or… what? David wasn’t sure what the etiquette was, once those words were uttered. Patrick must know, he thought.

David approached him, putting his hands on Patrick’s shoulders and leaning over to kiss the back of his neck. “Hey,” he said, finally answering Patrick’s greeting.

Patrick shivered and set the box down, so David turned him and pulled him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around Patrick, loving the sensation of his boyfriend’s muscled chest through his thin shirt and the feel of Patrick’s arms around him, which never failed to soothe.

“You okay?” Patrick asked.

“Mm hmm.”

Patrick pulled back enough to focus on his face. “I understand, you know, if yesterday was kind of… intense and if you need some time to process it. I don’t want to you to feel like I’m expecting anything more from you just because we said—”

“It’s not actually that? At all?” David pulled back a little, letting his hands rest on Patrick’s shoulders where they always seemed to gravitate. “It’s not that I need to pull back or to process anything.”

“Okay.” Patrick was just giving him one of those looks of infinite patience he had. That look that said, take as much time as you need, I’ll be here.

“It’s that I want that feeling all the time? That way I felt when you told me you love me, I want it all the time,” he whispered.

“Well, I do love you all the time, if that helps,” Patrick said.

David huffed. “Even when I rearrange the store according to my unnecessarily exacting standards?”

“Especially then,” Patrick said.

“I’m in love with you,” David said. It felt important to say it that way. Not just ‘I love you,’ but ‘I’m in love with you.’ It made his heart race, to say it that way. ‘I love you’ was something he could say to Stevie if he didn’t think it would melt Stevie like a bucket of water over the Wicked Witch. ‘I’m in love with you’ was something he could only mean about one person.

“I’m in love with you, too,” Patrick said, his eyes so earnest that David felt a bit like he should avert his own gaze from them before he himself melted into a puddle.

The bell above the door rang and a woman towing a toddler behind her came into the store. David grimaced.

“I’ll take this one,” Patrick said softly. “Why don’t you see if the cheese needs restocking?”

David shot him a grateful look. “You really do love me, don’t you?”

Patrick winked and made his way over to see if the harried young mother needed any help.

~*~

After a few weeks had gone by, as autumn settled into Schitt’s Creek, the concept of it, of being loved by someone and loving them in return, struck David again and again as something he wasn’t sure he could live up to. He felt it when Patrick joined the Roses for dinner at the café and talked with his dad about baseball. He felt it when they were snuggled up on the sofa at Ray’s, eating pizza in front of the television. He was feeling it when Patrick took his hand as they were leaving the store one evening in late October, the two of them shuffling through the fallen leaves as they walked back to Ray’s together.

He caught himself imagining what it would be like to take Patrick to visit New York, to show him off to all of his old friends. Would they see what he saw in Patrick? That this smart, level-headed, generous, unassumingly sexy guy had fallen in love with him? Or would Patrick’s boring Levi’s and conservative haircut and disinterest in the latest trends blind them to what Patrick really was? Probably the latter, David thought, and he felt a surge of protectiveness against his so-called friends in his imaginary scenario. How dare they discount Patrick when he was so much better than they were in every way that counted? They weren’t worthy of Patrick.

The anxiety that had been a hallmark of those first few months with Patrick, that had made it so easy to react badly to the fact of Rachel, that anxiety had morphed into a different thing that occasionally wormed its way into the forefront of his brain: a certainty that Patrick was too good for him. He squeezed Patrick’s hand hard enough that he turned and gave David a quizzical look.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. ‘M fine.”

Patrick kept gazing at him for a few seconds before he shrugged. “Okay.” He swung their hands back and forth as they walked.

I’m not worthy of you, David thought.

“Because it seems like there’s something on your mind,” Patrick said.

“You should want to date other people.”

“I don’t.”

“I know it seems like the pickings are slim out here in the middle of nowhere, but there are other gay men. Or bi, or pan, or… whatever. There are other options for you. Better options, probably.”

“David—”

“Guys who understand that R-O-Y thing—”

“ROI? Return on investment?” Patrick stopped walking and stepped in front of David to stop his forward momentum.

“See? Guys who’ll watch sports with you and won’t criticize your wardrobe.”

“Well, you’ve pretty much given up on criticizing my wardrobe,” Patrick said with a smirk. “David, I don’t want other guys. I want you.”

“Sometimes I don’t understand why,” David said softly.

Patrick stretched up on his toes and kissed him softly, just a brush of dry lips against his own. “I don’t need you to watch sports with me.” He tilted his head to the side, considering. “Remember last Sunday, when Ray was out all day and the house was quiet, and we sat across from each other on the sofa under a blanket and just read our books? And then later you helped me make dinner?”

David rolled his eyes. “I didn’t help that much.”

“You helped some. The point is, that was a perfect day as far as I’m concerned. Days like that, that’s what I need from you.”

“We used to fuck all day when Ray was out of the house.”

Patrick smirked. “Those days are pretty nice too. All of it is, with you. Why would I want to be with anyone else?”

“Because you were a starving man when you met me, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t foods out there that you’d prefer.”

“Well, I don’t love that analogy, and also I think you’re wrong. David, are you happy with me?”

He pressed his lips together and nodded.

“I’m happy with you too. I love you. I’m not sure it has to be more complicated than that. Okay?”

“Okay.” They started walking again. “I love you, too.”

He suspected it did have to be more complicated than that someday, but maybe not today. Not just yet. Today it could be the perfect aesthetics of a crisp fall day and David’s boyfriend’s hand in his.

[visionshadows]

London Calling

So eons ago I took prompts and didn’t finish them. This was one that was from the story you won’t write prompts that went around for a bit. Look I finished something even if it’s not-fic! I don’t remember who this is from and it’s not in my ask box anymore for some reason. 

The story you won't write: 'Boys just wanna have fun' ))))))

Notes: *we’re going to handwave a lot here. Like Geno having a passport and being able to be in London in July of 2006 when we all know he didn’t get his passport back until August*

I’m also putting this behind a read more because it got long and it does actually get slightly NSFW in one part. Which I wrote at work. Lol.

1.

Sid can’t be spontaneous. Nothing in his life allows for that because people know his face. But he wants to do this, he wants one chance to experience gay pride and the best way to do that is to go to Europe. He’ll blend in better there and his face isn’t as well known as in North America. Europride is in London which means he speaks the language which is why São Paulo is not on his list. That would be even better, but the language barrier worries him. He speaks no Portuguese at all. 

So London, Europride 2006. That’s where he’s going after his rookie year. His parents know. Pat knows. He doesn’t tell Mario because … well, he just doesn’t tell Mario. Mario knows he’s gay but Sid’s never actually provided any evidence of that while living in his house. 

The hotel room is nice but not too nice. The clothes he’s got are clothes that won’t be coming home with him. He’s got a box of bleach for his hair and bright red lipstick for his lips. 

When he’s ready, he looks at himself in the mirror - bleached blonde hair, bright red lipstick, short gold booty shorts and a crop top with a rainbow flag on it - and doesn’t see Sidney Crosby. He takes a picture on his crappy flip phone (carefully not getting the booty shorts) for his mom because he promised.

Sid is ready to experience his sexuality.

2.

Sid’s sweaty and covered in glitter by the time he makes it to the bar. He hands over a credit card, smiling at the cute bartender who looks him over casually. It’s been a great few days so far and Sid’s enjoying everything. He’s made a few friends that he’s been spending most of his time with and he just wants a pint before he goes back to the dance floor. 

A big body presses against him and he turns his head, looking up at a man who rests a hand against Sid’s hip.

“Sorry,” the man says, shouting in Sid’s ear. “English bad. You get?”

The man gestures at the bartender and Sid’s pint. He pulls a card out of his pocket and hands it to Sid and Sid shrugs, getting the cute bartender’s attention again to get the man a beer. 

“Thanks much.” The man beams and it lights up his face. Sid turns a little so they’re pressed front to front. 

“I’m Patrick,” Sid says. “Nice to meet you.”

The man licks his lips, his eyes dropping to Sid’s mouth. Sid knows how good his mouth looks, knows how to play up the fullness of his lips. It makes him want to laugh, thinking about how the guys all say he has no game. If they could see him now.

“Zhenya. Nice to meet,” Zhenya’s hand slides to Sid's hip and squeezes. Sid hums a little appreciatively.

"Trust me,” Sid smiles invitingly. " It's my pleasure.”

3.

Zhenya pushes Sid against the door as soon as it is shut, kissing him hungrily. Sid grips Zhenya's ass in both hands, rocking against him.

"Fuck,” Sid groans when Zhenya tears his mouth away to breathe. "Bed. C'mon.” 

Sid's figured out that Zhenya's lack of English is not much trouble when he uses his hands to guide their "conversation". Two drinks, a few dances, and Sid was making excuses to his friends, Zhenya draped over his shoulders. It's obvious why they are leaving.

They rock against each other enthusiastically, kissing and biting at sweaty skin, neither of them able to focus long enough to do more than press their cocks against hot skin. Zhenya bites Sid’s shoulder and Sid feels a burst of warm heat against his stomach. He grips at Zhenya’s ass and ruts against him until he finds his completion, Zhenya draped on top of him.

They pant in the darkness of the room, Sid occasionally running his hands through Zhenya’s unruly curls. Zhenya finally pushes himself up and leans over to the bedside table to rummage through it, finding the lube and condoms that Sid stashed there. He’s here for a lot of reasons, and one of them is to have sex. It’s been a fruitful week.

Zhenya smirks at him and grabs Sid’s hand, pouring lube in it before spreading his legs wide. Sid’s eyes widen at the sight of Zhenya’s long legs and his soft, sticky dick resting on his stomach. 

“Yeah?” Sid touches his fingers to Zhenya’s hole. Zhenya answers him in Russian, but nods at the same time and Sid presses in, shocked at his luck. 

They fuck slower this time, Zhenya’s legs wrapped around Sid, the two of them breathing against each others lips. It’s late by the time they separate again and Sid can’t see sending Zhenya out into the night.

He pulls him into the shower and kisses him slowly and sweetly. “Stay. Sleep tonight?”

Zhenya cocks his head to the side, looking at Sid thoughtfully. “Okay. Tonight.”

4. 

Sid doesn’t see Zhenya again. That’s not what this trip is for. He does think of him though and he kind of wishes he had gotten his email or something. It’s a stupid thought. It’s not like he’s going to trade contact information with any of the people he is going to meet in London, much less any of the people he fucks. Maybe someday, but not now. Not when he’s just barely broken into the NHL.

He dyes his hair back before he leaves and bags up the clothing, leaving it in the hotel room. He looks at his reflection in the mirror again, dressed in cargo shorts and a polo and he sees Sidney Crosby again. There’s still a bruise hiding under the collar of his polo that he knows he could see if he moves his head the right way, but otherwise, he looks the same as before he left.

Home is the same as well. He trains hard and tells his parents a few sanitized stories about London. His dad clears his throat a few times and just squeezes his shoulder and says something about condoms before turning bright red. 

Andy knows he’s gay and knew his plans before he came home, so in their down time, he lets Sid tell him stories. He even listens when Sid tells him about how he can’t stop thinking about Zhenya. He still knows it’s stupid. He shouldn’t be hung up on a guy he spent less than 12 hours with, but he kind of is. 

Andy squeezes his shoulder comfortingly and then makes him run up a hill a few times until Sid can’t think about anything but how much he hates Andy and that actually does make things a little better.

5.

Sid’s in his room at Mario’s when Nathalie knocks on his door and says that Evgeni Malkin is going to be coming to dinner. Sid’s shocked because last anyone had heard, Malkin had signed another contract in Russia. He’s been excited to play with the guy so him being here is great. 

He showers even though he’s not really gross. Better to make a good impression on him anyway. When he gets downstairs, Gonch is there as well as George from the front office. He says hello to everyone and makes his way to the kitchen to help out Nathalie. He’s anxious and nervous and if he doesn’t do something with his hands, he’s going to go nuts.

When the doorbell rings, Austin comes running into the kitchen to get them and Sid washes his hands quickly before following Nathalie out. He can’t see Malkin at first because he’s hidden behind Mario, introductions being made.

“And this is Sidney Crosby,” Mario says, stepping aside. “You’ll be playing together.”

Sid can hear Mario’s words being translated by George but it’s all fuzz in his brain because the person standing there is *Zhenya*. He’s tired and disheveled, but it’s Zhenya. 

Sid moves on automatic, sticking his hand out. “Nice to meet you. I’m really excited to play with you.” He doesn’t know how he manages to speak, or if it even sounds normal. No one seems to be staring at him oddly. 

Malkin - Zhenya - takes his hand and shakes it. “Please to meet.”

And Sid’s heart crashes because the recognition isn’t there. Zhenya looks at him like he’s a stranger even though Sid’s had his dick in his ass. 

Sid manages a tight smile before letting go of his hand and stepping back. The evening is a bit of a blur after that. All of his media training kicks in and he keeps himself together, talking when necessary, polite to a fault. He even talks to Zhen - Malkin - when he needs to.

When he finally is alone again, he drops his hands into his face and lets himself cry. He knew it was stupid.

6.

They don’t talk about it. Zhenya becomes Geno and Sid forces himself to separate the two in his brain. Zhenya was a one time thing. The Sid he met wasn’t real either. It’s not like he used his name or looked like himself. Geno is real and he’s here and it’s Sid job to help integrate him into the team.

So he does. They become friends as best they can considering Geno barely speaks English. There is a lot of charades and Gonch muttering things under his breath as he translates for Geno. The words he learns first are not exactly suitable for polite company but great for a locker room. 

As Geno’s vocabulary grows, so does his personality. Geno is funny and whip smart with comebacks which makes Sid wish he understood Russian. If Geno’s this funny and smart in a language he barely understands, he must be amazing in his own language.

Sometimes he catches Geno staring at him, his expression hard to read. Sometimes he wonders if Geno’s figured out who he is - that he’s Patrick. Sid’s good at not looking in locker rooms, but every so often he catches himself looking at Geno’s long legs and remembering the way they wrapped around his body. 

He takes cold showers when that happens.

7.

“Patrick,” Geno says, his eyes locked on Sid’s from where he’s sitting on the other side of the table. They’re stuck on table duty because they’re underage and can’t go down to the bar area. Sid doesn’t actually mind - until now. 

“Excuse me?” Sid’s voice cracks and he sits up straight.

“Sidney Patrick Crosby. Is your name. Me,” Geno taps his chest. “Zhenya little name for Evgeni. Soft, for close. I like use for kiss.” He reaches out and tugs on Sid’s hair. “This. Why you do?”

So they were doing this apparently. Right here. In a bar where their teammates could show up any time. Sid’s eyelids flutter without his permission when Geno tugs on his hair and Geno’s eyes narrow.

“I’m Помните. You like.”

“G…” Sid sighs. “I dyed it. I wanted to make it hard for me to be recognized.”

Geno tilts his head in the way Sid knows means he didn’t understand completely. “I didn’t want people to know who I am.”

“Same me. Patrick look so - “ Geno looks frustrated, waving a hand at Sid’s face and hair. “Not you. I’m not know.”

“When did you know?”

“Laugh,” Geno says, a soft smile spreading across his face. “But no words. English stupid.”

Sid laughs a little at that, looking down at his glass of water. “I thought about you a lot after I came home.”

“Yes. Most pretty boy.” Geno traces a finger over Sid’s jaw lightly and Sid’s eyes close. “Best dick. Best ass.”

Sid snorts out a laugh at that and opens his eyes to see Geno with his tongue between his teeth, grinning. He can’t help but grin back at him. “You seemed to enjoy it.”

Geno waggles his eyebrows at Sid and tilts his head towards the door. “Max not come to room tonight. Go again?”

Sid knows it’s a bad idea. They’re teammates now. It’s not like it was this summer. He knows that he and Geno are going to be tied together for years to come. Sex absolutely could ruin it. 

But he’s also 19 and Geno’s offering and he knows exactly how good the two of them are together in bed.

Sid stands up and grabs Geno’s hand. “Let’s go.”

[purplesurveys]

694

What song are you listening to right now? I’m not listening to anything but the last song I played was Violet by Daniel Caesar; I don’t actually know the song but it was part of a playlist on Spotify. Admit it -- you want a Snuggie. What design/color? I don’t even know what that is, but if it came in pink I’d want one. Do you prefer movies at home or movies at the theatre? Home is cozier and costs much less, haha. How many songs does your iTunes have? Ooh, I haven’t used my iTunes in like half a decade buuuut I think it peaked with around 400-500 songs? Idk, I didn’t explore much as a kid and I liked to stick with my favorite singers/bands. Do you take a shower in the morning or the night before? When I’m off school I like to shower at night - much more comfy that way, and I fall asleep faster. But when I have to leave the house whether to go to school, the mall, to crash at someone’s place, etc. I always bathe a few hours before. Always. I hateeeeee not feeling fresh when I go outside.

What's your academic niche? (History, math, science, etc.) History for sure, but there are some science topics I’m also okay in. Who's your youngest teacher? They’re all already pretty seasoned lol I can’t actually tell. I think it’s Ma’am Cai; welp, at least among my current professors, she’s the one that acts the youngest. Have you ever had the samples people offer you at Costco? I’ve never been in a Costco but I typically don’t get samples from our local groceries because idk, they just look nasty :/ The only samples I get are the free ones they hand over at Starbucks and Coffee Bean, haha. If you had to name your kid after a food, what would his/her name be? I’d take olives and turn it to Olivia, which was always my choice for a girl anyway. But if it really had to be food-inspired I’d go with... Brie for a girl, or Sage for a boy. Miley Cyrus: Inspirational role model or a ho? Get with the times, 2009 survey. This question won’t get away with that word today. Anyway, Miley is a badass. I never changed my mind about her, maybe except for that time she did that performance with Robin Thicke. Are you stressed about anything? Right now no. I’m on a six-week break, I wanna enjoy it without thinking about the stuff that would typically stress me out. When's the last time you had a rock, paper, scissors match? It’s been a few months. What's your favorite anime? I don’t watch anime... the only show I got into was Pokemon. Did you cry when Ash let his Butterfree go with the other Butterfrees? I vaguely remember that but I probably got sad over it when I was younger. Don't you hate it when Facebook auto-corrects your smiley faces and hearts? I don’t mind it. Skinny, flared, ripped, or faded jeans? Ugh I hate all of these. I have a lot of skinny jeans in my closet but they’re always a last resort - my go-to these days is mom jeans. What are you excited for? Meh, nothing in particular. I wanna say my birthday? but who knows what the world is gonna come to be by then. Are you part of the Farmville cult? No I never played. I wasn’t allowed to make a Facebook account at the time when games like that and Petville and Plants vs. Zombies were big. What were you for Halloween? Last year I went as Dora. AND IT WAS SO ANNOYING because the party we were invited to prohibited shorts??? And 1) Dora wore shorts and 2) I searched far and wide for a pair of orange shorts? It was the first time I heard of a dress code that strict for a college party lmao I couldn’t believe it. Thankfully Rita had just bought a pair of orange jeans so she let me borrow those. Have you ever had braces? Back in high school. What year of high school are you in? I am not. What's your favorite flower? Peonies. Would you ever bleach your hair? Probably not. My hair has faced enough damage. Have you ever stood on a frozen solid body of water? No. That sounds scary though. I’ve heard and watched people fall through ice :/ Would you ever take up smoking or drinking? I’m already doing both. Thanks, college and peer pressure! Do those girls with 1,000 friends on Facebook REALLY have that many? I dunno, who knows? It’s always possible. I have a bigger problem with the fact that this question just singled out girls lmao. What holiday is your birthday closest to? Uhh Earth Hour, if it counts? If not, we have Araw ng Kagitingan on April 9 which commemorates the Fall of Bataan during WWII. Are you cyberdyslexic? Is this even a thing? I’ve never heard of this until today. Are you regular dyslexic? No. Is there irregular dyslexia? :((( What would your name be if you were a boy? I don’t know. My parents didn’t think about this either I think. Which person from way back when would you love to hang out with? My great grandpa. Either him or his cousin who wrote a book on history. What color are your eyes? Dark brownnnnnnn ugh this will FOREVER be in surveys won’t it. The forever on-going question: Is Twilight stupid or actually brilliant? It’s so stupid. BUT I LOVE IT ok.  Did you carve pumpkins for Halloween this year? No. We don’t do that here. Does your family use a real pine tree or a plastic one for Christmas? I think most households here use artificial trees. I was already a little old when I found out other countries would use real trees. Do you know anyone with a play-on name? (Chris P. Bacon, Justin Case, etc.) Not personally but super recently someone named their kid COVID BRYANT and it was all over social media for a few days. Covid Bryant. Let that shit sink in. Only Filipinos, man. Do you have any foreign exchange students at your school? Yeah, mostly Koreans and Japanese people. If you had a week to live, what would you do? I don’t have much of a choice, do I... I’m gonna be stuck at home and do the stuff I’ve already been doing in the last three weeks, and just hope I had fun.

Are you good at brain teasers? Some, but I don’t enjoy doing them in general. Is your handwriting nice? I can handle a pen pretty well, if I do say so myself. I have a neater penmanship than most people I know. What's your second language? English.  Is it uncomfortable for you to take showers in glass stalls w/out curtains? Not really but the door has to be locked. Finish the sentence: Remember, remember... The fifth of November? I dunno why I know about that though. Did you understand Shakespeare? No. I always bought the No Fear Shakespeare editions cos I had absolutely no patience to try and understand the original text. What do you want to be when you're older? Rich. What's your favorite dog breed? Golden retriever or pitbull. Are you one of those people who take like, 50 Facebook quizzes at a time? I’ve never taken a Facebook quiz. What was the last shot you got? It was at the roof of my mouth, back when I had a tooth extraction. Ever gotten cavities? A few times. Can you differentiate between the words "your" and "you're?" Yes. Do you use hair ties as bracelets? Lmao always. Don’t most girls do this? What was the last school project you did that you couldn't wait to turn in? My book report for my business journalism class. After I proofread it like 6 times and triple-checked the word count, I couldn’t waitttt to get rid of it. Have you ever graded papers? Sure. I’ve said it in past surveys, but my org hosts journalism workshops to interested schools, whether they’re in elementary, high school, or college. At the end of the day they have to come up with their own articles, and then we check each of them, correct the mistakes, grade them, and give it back to them with our comments. What was your favorite year of school up to this point? Third year of high school. I don’t really have a favorite year of college... I had lows in each of them. What's the latest you've ever woken up? 11 AM. Can you recite the alphabet backwards? For a time I did cos Angela taught me. Then I just never sang it again so I ended up forgetting. If you could master one language in thirty minutes, what would it be? Korean. Are you a sucker for foreign accents? No. Sometimes I find it hard to understand. Where were you born? Is it the same place you live currently? I was born somewhere in Manila, and I live faaar away from there now. How often do you remember your dreams? What did you last dream about? Only if I note them down on my phone. The last dream I remember having was too lengthy for me to want to type it all down, but it involved me and Gabie being exes, and she had her own kid hahaha. When did you learn the ninja turtles were named after Renaissance artists? Pretty early, I guess. I’ve never seen the show though. Do you do yoga? Nope.

[weasleywinchester]

Unexpected Meetings and Risks Taken

Chapter 1 The Meeting at Baker Street

Chapter 2 The First Case

Chapter 3 His Name is Greg *swoon*

Series Summary:

Jamie Luna is an American in London. She’s managed to get herself stuck within Mycroft’s web and is sent to watch Sherlock’s every move. What She’s not prepared for is the love and friendships of a life time.

Chapter Summary:

Jamie Luna has just had to most romantic date that even had a little sizzle... and now she gets to go to work. Sherlock said to be a 221B asap, he’s on a case and needs someone else’s presence besides John. But how long before Jamie gets to see Greg again? It may be just around the corner...

Couches are not as comfortable as one expects. Well, Sherlock’s couch isn’t anyways. I roll onto my side, watching Sherlock pace back and forth across the flat, talking about his latest case. He seems to be having a mental breakdown. 

“He’s not.” John states from his chair as he skims today’s (well, yesterday’s) newspaper. I stare at him, hoping to burn a hole in the side of his head.

“What do you mean he’s not? Of course he is! LOOK AT THE EVIDENCE JOHN!” Sherlock shouts. John glares up at Sherlock and tries so damn hard not to roll his eyes. 

“I was talking to Jamie. About you. That you’re not having a mental breakdown. ” John cracks the newspaper and continues reading. 

“Why do I need to be here Sherlock? John says you’re fine. I think you’re raving mad because it’s THREE IN THE FUCKING MORNING!” I yell as I throw the blanket over my face. 

“You didn’t seem to mind being awake when you floated in here earlier” I poke my head out to see Sherlock cocking his eyebrow at me. I roll my eyes over to John, who has both his brows raised in questioning. 

“You came in with your makeup done to perfection, that’s not out of the ordinary but it was a little more heavy than normal. You have on a tight, short leather skirt suggesting you want male attention especially since you thought to forgo any tights. Your red- um no- orange top suggests a somewhat professional gathering, perhaps old colleagues, but the buttons could be undone further if you happened across someone that met your checklist. Your lips are stained dark pink suggesting that you had lipstick on but didn’t bother to reapply or, more likely, someone else removed it for you.” Sherlock spins on his heel to stare down at me on the couch.

“It’s called a lipstain Sherlock, it’s meant to fade over the course of the night.” I drag the blanket back over my head. Sherlock frowns and turns to John who shrugs his shoulders.

“Have you told Mycroft I’m mad?”

“I’ve told him that your brain is reeling on a case, but the only drugs you’ve taken are three nicotine patches.”

“Two” John corrects.

“Three. He put one on his other arm when you were making tea.” I mumble through the blanket. 

“Well, be thankful he hasn’t gotten a hold of any weapons yet.” 

I poke my head out and open my mouth to respond but I would rather not press for details, my job was to report on Sherlock’s current well being, not to unravel his past. Sherlock continues his pacing and problem solving and I must have nodded off at some point because John is gently shaking my shoulder.

“Jamie, Sherlock is out for a walk. Said he’d be back later.” John whispers. I crack my eyes open, glaring at John for not waking me when Sherlock left. 

“Here’s a strong tea, extra sugar; now hurry home and do what you need to do before he calls. Don’t you grumble at me missy! Off you go, hurry before he has a break though in this case.” John peels me off the couch and practically pushes me out onto the landing. 

I steadily make my way back to my own flat, walking instead of taking a cab. It’s about midday, the sun is out but it brings no warmth. I quickly undress as I walk into the flat and jump right into the shower. I try to recall the details of the current case as I scrub my body clean but I can’t remember anything after the exhaustion set in last night. Before that… I can still feel his hands on my body. The way his mouth moved against mine, how he smelled musky but not too strong, how I wanted him to explore every bit of my body... OH MY GOD! Did he call? I didn’t even check my phone when I left baker street! I rush out of the shower quickly throwing my hair in a towel and running to my phone. Of course it’s fucking dead! I jam the charger in and finish drying my body as I mentally beg my phone to resurrect faster. The logo flashes on the screen and then my phone buzzes three times. 

Messages from last night:

Mycroft: Good. Make sure he stays that way. Don’t let him out of your sight. 

Sherlock: Went out. - SH

Messages from this morning:

John: Sherlock’s back. Laying on the couch, hasn’t said anything in 20 minutes. Be ready to meet us somewhere soon :)

I sigh as I crash onto my bed. Nothing from Greg! I guess he does work for Scotland Yard so I can cut him a little slack. Maybe he wasn’t interested. I push the thought out of my head and get ready. The cute little coat I wore out last night was not cutting it earlier; so I grabbed my oversize tartan wool coat out of the closet. I think I’ll take my time doing my makeup today, never know who you’ll bump into when you’re running after Sherlock; or working for Mycroft for that matter.  I just finish filling in my eyebrows when my phone lets out a few dings.

SH: This address. Hurry - SH

JW: This address. See you there!

(?): Hi Jamie, had an amazing time last night. Maybe we could do dinner tonight? - Greg

HA! He texted! I happy dance and nearly trip over my two feet when another ding sounds.

Greg: New case just came up. Rain check for breakfast tomorrow?

Awww man. I have to wait until tomorrow??? That’s just not fair! I reply as I make my way out the door:

To Greg: I had an amazing time too <3 Sounds perfect! Let me know where :D

To John: See you there! Maybe I’ll get to cross the tape this time!

To Sherlock: Hurrying!

I quickly shoot Mycroft a message with the address of the crime scene and reread Greg’s message so I can over analyze it (as one does). I look at mine again as well. Oh… no… I put a heart?? Will he think that’s weird? We kinda  went on one date… and I’m sending hearts. I gotta remember hearts, the cry laugh emoji and the phrase “lol” do not need to be in every message! 

I arrive rather quickly at the crime scene, they’re just now taping off the area, although it is much later in the evening than I expected. I take my post at the edge of the tape near an ambulance that has pulled up. It’s the perfect spot to hear their conversations as well as anything coming through their radios. I give Donovan a little wave, but she purses her lips together and goes back to talking to one of the officers. I make small conversation with some of the medical workers, very friendly people. 

After about 20 minutes I can hear Sherlock yelling throughout the apartment building. I blink and see a black blur come flying out the door and into a cab. I walk towards it but it’s already pulling away, leaving me standing in the middle of the road. He left? He left! What the fuck am I supposed to say to-

“Left us here, did he?” John says behind me. I turn to him and shake my head.

“How do we follow him John?

“We don’t for now. He’ll be back at the flat in no time.” John gives my shoulder a squeeze. 

“Jamie? Jamie Luna?” Someone behind us shouts. John and I both turn and my jaw hits the pavement. It’s Greg! We meet him at the edge of the tape, he lifts it for John and I to cross under.

“Jamie, Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade. Although I assume you already know that.” John says, the Cheshire grin on his face growing wider by the second. “Greg, Jamie Luna.”

“Yes, we’ve met. Good to see you Detective Inspector.” I can’t help but smile like an idiot. The title suits him, as does the suite...

“We have indeed. Where’s Sherlock gone?” Greg asks, his question directed at John but his eyes never leaving me.

“Off to think we presume.”

“We?” He glances between John and I.

“Remember when I said I was basically a nanny?” Greg’s mouth falls open astonished. “Ya I get to follow Sherlock everyday, text his big brother where he is and get paid loads of money.” I squish my lips together and brace myself, not sure if Greg will think I’m crazy or not.

“Bloody brilliant! Didn’t think anyone could one over Mycroft.” The three of us share a laugh, the silence no longer awkward. 

“Well I best be off, have a date in a little bit. Greg, mind walking Jamie home? Her flat isn't too far.” John says, his voice a normal tone but his eyes are full of mischief. I give him a little glare before turning to Greg.

“It’s alright if you can’t, you’re obviously working.” I point my words at John.

“Of course I’ll take you home, just give me a few minutes to wrap up here.” He gives me a lopsided grin. I shake my head in agreement because I do not trust any words that will tumble out of my mouth. He shakes John’s hand goodbye and goes back to talk with Donovan.

“Do you actually have a date this bloody early?” I glare at John.

“I might.” He grins at me, gives a slight bow and catches the next taxi.

I waited around for half an hour; but since Greg let me into the taped off area I decided to poke my nose around. I saw the paramedics take a body out of the building, but it was in a bag so I couldn’t see anything. I got to talking with the CSI photographer and a few other detectives about possible events leading to this accident. 

“Ready Ms. Luna?” Greg whispers into my ear as he puts his hand lightly on the small of my back. I nod and quickly tell the people I was talking to goodbye. “I hope you don’t mind if I just drive you?” 

“Oh how horrible! You’re going to make me sit for the short car journey instead of making me walk all over London like my boss?” I laugh. He flashes a brilliant smile and I have to remember not to melt into a puddle. We chat about the case, well about Sherlock’s deductions. He may sound raving mad but Greg tells me he’s more brilliant than half of Scotland Yard. He pulls the car up to the curb, both of us sitting in silence for a few moments.

“Would you like to come in for dinner?” I squeak. I glance at him, his mouth is slightly ajar. Moving too fast? Assuming too much… No. He drove me home of his own free will, and he keeps smiling at me like that... it can’t just be in my head right? “There’s a homemade deep dish pizza calling our names...” I sing-song. 

“Pizza with a beautiful woman? How could I say no?” He reaches over to push my hair off my shoulders, his thumb light grazing my neck.

“Well, ok then” I breathe out. He gives me a little smile, his thumb moving back and forth along the side of my neck. Wait… he said yes! I jump out of the car and race to my door. I quickly unlock it and begin picking up the clothes I peeled off earlier and throw them into the dryer. I race back to the front door and try to conceal the fact that the tiny sprint I just did has left me short of breath. 

“Well this is posh...” Greg mentions as he looks around. I haven’t been living in my flat very long so a lot still needs to be decorated. 

“Yes, Mycroft said it would be better if I was in the general vicinity of Sherlock. He also assured me that if I moved to 221B I would most likely never get a good night's sleep.” Greg chuckles at that, I imagine working with Sherlock as much as he does gives the same effect. I quickly heat up the pizza and set the table. Last night I made a mental note on what beer Greg was drinking but the food delivery was set for tomorrow. 

“I don’t have any beer, but will wine do?” I shout from the kitchen, trying my hardest to reach the darn wine glasses. I feel his hand rest on my hip, his body lightly pressing against my back.

“Yes love.” He answers right next to my ear as he stretches to grab the two glasses. He sets them on the counter in front of me. His arm snakes around my waist and he nuzzles his nose into my hair.

“Miss me Detective Inspector?” My voice comes out more even than I though possible.

He hums in agreement, brushing my hair off my shoulder and laying a gentle kiss on the base of my neck. I take a deep breath and twirl around so now our noses gently brush each other. He presses his lips gently to mine, my heart threatening to leap out of my chest.

*DING DING DING*

“That would be the pizza” I mumble against his lips, my eyes still closed. 

“Guess we will have to finish this later.” he gives me a quick peck and grabs the pizza out of the microwave. 

We settle at the table, and raise our glasses.

“To unexpected meetings.” I say, tilting my glass towards Greg.

“And risks taken” he adds as we clink glasses..

Martin GIF from @sannapersikka Hope you don’t mind! You have the perfect collection of Martin gifs

Pic from: https://pin.it/7hkAX6X

______________________

I HAVE A TAG LIST?!?! Here it be:

@fangirl-iz

[tasoku]

Wish for Happiness (Ozmafia!! Fanfic - Kyrie/Dorothy)

Synopsis: Kyrie wished to see her again. As a witch, she has to grant it. However, what does Dorothy really want?

----

After finishing the game, I was inspired to write this story. The ending was very bittersweet and I felt unsatisfied with how it ended. I decided to add a bit more of my take on it :)

Anyway, this story takes place a year after the grand finale ending. It contains spoilers if you are not done with the game yet (as you can tell by the pairing... oof). If you've played the game, you should know what might be in here so I won't really give warnings lol (Implied stuff but really I am very innocent about it). Also, some minor Fuka/Caesar because why not.

Part 2 (final): http://tasoku.tumblr.com/post/182624851122/wish-for-happiness-ozmafia-fanfic

Those piercing eyes.

There it was, staring at her, the strange look that kept whispering to her, "I want you."

Her face flushed a bright red and she looked away, but her curiosity always crept back and she'd return the gaze. Again, the eyes never left her. Even as the person in question would be doing unspeakable things with another, the eyes would eventually fall back onto her. She felt like she was the person underneath him at that moment, the one experiencing the pains and pleasures he was giving to that stranger. She felt her hand instinctively reach to clutch at her chest, and she had to walk away to breathe.

What was he doing? Why was he torturing her like this? He knew she couldn't leave the tower and yet...

He's just being his usual self, she reminded. Ignore the scarecrow. There are others you can be observing. She nodded at her thoughts and after calming down she went back to watching the rest of the town enjoy themselves.

---

He hoped she saw him. No, he knew that she did.

Even though he couldn't see her from the tall tower, he knew that she couldn't resist looking at him. He always made it a point to stare at her as he did his trivial pursuits. He didn't care about who laid underneath him; what kept him going was the pink hair maiden who stayed locked up in her tower, unable to leave. He wanted her to know that he never forgot about her, even when it seems like he finally had happiness. She was his happiness, and he wanted those words to be imprinted in her heart.

You belong with us, Dorothy. You should be here with me.

---

It was the day of the Meteor Shower Gathering again and everyone seemed to be busy with the preparations. As the townspeople worked on cleaning the streets and opening their booths for the night, Fuka walked around patrolling the streets with Axel. She saw her reflection in a nearby window shop and smiled faintly.

"Hm, it's been a year..."

"What was that?" The stoic boy next to her  replied absentmindedly, seemingly distracted by the abundance of dessert stands opening up.

"A year since everyone came back."

"Oh yeah." He walked a bit slower now.

Fuka stopped in her steps, seeing Axel stare at a gelato stand. She giggled.

"Axel, just go grab some." She gave him a small push, prompting him to almost trip but also end up in line for the gelato stand. He looked back at her with a small blush on his face.

"Well, it's rude to get out of line now.." he mumbled back and he stayed in line while looking at the menu. Fuka's smile grew bigger and she walked over to the shady side to wait for him. As she waited, she suddenly felt a light wind past her, blowing her hair wistfully. She realized that something felt missing, but it was a feeling that always came to her when everything was at peace. That something was the predator in her life, the hero that captured her heart while saving everyone. She looked up at the blue sky and thought to herself,

I wish you could be here too, Caesar.

----

On the night of the Meteor Shower Gathering, the young witch waited in the dark alleyway just like the year before.

She knew she shouldn't be here, but she also knew that she had to grant his wish. I want to see you again. She remembered those words etched in her heart, the butterflies that came to her stomach when she heard his wish. She calmly spoke to him and said she would grant his wish, but her true thoughts was that she wanted to thank him for caring so much about her.  Her heart ached for such a caring individual, but her brain screamed that she needed to stay away, she needed to be selfless. If she began to use her magic for such selfish purposes, she would become evil and she did not want to think of what would happen to the people she cherished.

"Dorothy."

She snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of her name. She looked at the source and smiled softly.

"Mr. Scarecrow."

He blinked at hearing the name, but let out a small chuckle.

"I'm different from that time now. Please, call me Kyrie." He took a step closer and held out his hand. She stared at his outstretched hand warily, before timidly reaching out with her own. When their hands touched, she felt the warmth of it immediately despite there being a glove between them. A shock wave of emotions went through her body, but she tried to pretend it didn't affect her by staying absolutely still. He stared into her eyes, his hand grasping around hers.

"You seem awfully calm for someone who hasn't had human contact in a year." His hand gripped on her tighter, as if he feared she would pull away and disappear at any second. She gave a small laugh.

"I should say the same. You seem calm for someone who hasn't seen me in a long time." She quickly realized her mistake when she spoke. He closed the gap between them, pulling her towards him while taking another step closer. This time their bodies were only inches from each other. She gasped.

"I'm not. If you've been watching me all this time, you should know that I'm shaking at the thought of being this close to you. I never thought I would ever get this chance again." This time his eyes felt like daggers in her soul. She remembered this look. The piercing gaze whenever he was with his lover. Her face immediately flushed a deep red and she looked down.

"How could I know? I've been busy watching other people too. You're not special." At these words, he let her go and stepped back. She suddenly felt the cold air between them, and her eyes went back to look at his. Instead of the anger she was expecting at her words, she saw a smirk on his face instead.

"I'm not special? Are you telling me that the only man who remembers who you are isn't special to you?" This time her eyes went wide, and she felt like he was making the world crash around her, even though everything around them was perfectly calm.

"I... There's still Soh..." she answered quietly. He gave a short laugh.

"Sorry, I should be clearer. A man who wishes to be with you from his own desires." As he said this, he closed the gap between them again, causing her to slowly retreat backwards. She realized as her back touched the dark wall behind her that he had pinned her.

"Then the times you were staring at me..." she whispered nervously. He grinned.

"So you did notice." His face moved closer towards her, and she shrunk to get away, feeling her legs tremble as she made herself smaller and smaller. However, before letting her fall, he gripped her arm to keep her still.

"Dorothy," he breathed, "you might be small, but you're not naive. You've lived just as long as I have. You know what I want. So..." The green-haired figure lifted her chin towards him, his piercing eyes staring into hers. "Tell me what you desire."

"What I desire...?" Of course she knew what she desired. She knew it in the depths of her heart, in the dark corners of her mind. At the bottom of her stomach, the butterflies that wanted to fly out to freedom. However, she remembered the tower that she was locked in, the faces of the people she loved, and the beautiful world that surrounded them as the night glistened with the shooting stars.

Her eyes began to fill with tears and she put on a brave smile as her hands reached towards his face. She touched his cheeks gently, feeling his warmth tingle at her fingertips.

"I want you to be happy Kyrie. I want everyone to live happily." As she said this, her body began glowing a bright white, and in an instant she disappeared, orbs of light taking her place. Kyrie's eyes widened at seeing the figure gone, and his hands reached towards the light. As it slowly faded away, his hands clenched into fists, and he slammed them against the wall.

"Don't you get it?? I can't be happy without you here...!!" He felt his heart torn again into a million pieces, and he bitterly wished again that he didn't have this brain that could remember the kind girl that went on this journey with him. The journey that had no ending. As long as she remained in the tower forgotten, he could never be satisfied.

----

By accident, Fuka witnessed the events in the dark alleyway. She tried to find Caramia so that she could end her patrol duties, however she ended up getting lost in the midst of the crowds. Trying to find a quiet area to re-evaluate her surroundings, she ended up in the same place she always gone to when she got lost. The beginning of her life when she was chased by Caesar. She shook her head at the thought of the wolf needling his way into her mind again, but noticed that there were two figures in the alleyway. She immediately hid and watched behind someone's home as the conversation took place. As her eyes made out the figures in the dark, she realized it was Kyrie and... she almost gasped. It was the witch that brought her to life.

What are they doing...? She thought to herself. She tried to hear what they were saying but she wasn't close enough to eavesdrop. However, she was able to see what was happening, and immediately recognized the strange relationship the two had as Kyrie pinned Dorothy to the wall. At first she thought maybe it was Kyrie being his usual creepy self, however at seeing Dorothy reach out to him and then fading away, and Kyrie hitting his fists against the wall, she realized the truth. She suddenly felt sorry for the two, and her hands clenched at her chest.

"Mr. Kyrie... Dorothy..."

Fuka looked up at the night sky, and saw that there were still shooting stars. She closed her eyes and her hands clasped together tightly.

"I change my wish. I wish..."

---

[i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend]

Sexiled (Part 1/23) ~ Steve Rogers x Reader College!AU

A/N: Hello lovelies! So this is the story I was going to post last night, but then life got in the way. So you get a Monday post! Yay! lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Nat sexiles you the night before an exam so you decide to crash on your common room couch. Too bad there’s already someone there. 

Characters/pairings: Steve Rogers, eventual Steve x reader, Nat and Bucky mentioned 

Rating: T 

Warnings: Language (that’s it) 

Word count:  1532

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

(8:53 PM) Natasha: Do you mind staying out of the room tonight?

(9:25 PM) Natasha: I’m guessing since you didn’t answer you’re cool with it. Thanks! Love you!

You groaned as you stepped off the elevator. It was almost 3 AM and you had an exam in the morning. And because of said exam you had turned your phone off to study nine hours ago, apparently missing some very important news.

“At least the common room has a comfy couch,” you muttered as you trudged down the hall.

You were mentally calculating how much sleep was necessary for you to be awake for your exam when you turned the corner and found the couch you’d been planning on crashing on occupied.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Apparently you were louder than you intended because the guy jolted awake and started looking around for his books.

“Crap, I’m going to be late for my exam.”

“Easy there. It’s only 3 AM, and I don’t know of any classes here that start before 8,” You joked and he leaned back against the couch.

You couldn’t help but admire his physique as his chest heaved, and your cheeks burned when he caught you staring at him.

“Do I know you?” He squinted like he was trying to place you.

“I don’t think so.”

You would remember meeting someone so attractive.

“Well, in that case. Hi. I’m Steve.”

“Y/n.” You waved one hand somewhat awkwardly as you dumped your backpack on the table and moved to the sink to fill your water bottle. “So, Steve, I’m like sixty-two percent confident you don’t live on this floor. So why are you asleep in my common room?”

“How are you only sixty percent sure I don’t live here?” he asked somewhat incredulously.

“Sixty-two percent,” you corrected.

“I was studying for an exam with a friend and he decided to call it quits about,” he glanced at his watch, “An hour ago and I thought I’d take a twenty minute power nap before cranking out a few more hours of studying.” He grinned as he ran a hand through his messy blond hair. “So what’s your excuse?”

“Exam in the morning. Just got back from the library to find I’ve been sexiled. So I was planning on crashing on the couch.”

You sat cross-legged in one of the arm chairs and redid your messy bun before pulling your binder out of your backpack

“Well I apologize for taking your bed.”

“It’s okay,” you shrugged. “I should keep cramming anyways.”

“What are you studying for?” He asked as he looked around for his notebook.

“Chem 101,” You groaned.

“Wait, really? Me too. Are you in Erskine’s 8AM?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Wait that’s why I recognize you. You sit front right and answer all the hard questions.”

“Not really,” you mumbled, suddenly feeling self-conscious. You’d been labelled “teacher’s pet” practically your whole life and it wasn’t a nickname you were eager to bring with you into college.

“I didn’t mean it as a bad thing,” he smiled apologetically. “I wish I followed along that well. I feel like I’m always five steps behind.”

You weren’t sure what to say. You wanted to be encouraging but you also knew this was a weed out course.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. But if you’re going to keep cramming, we could study together.”

“That’s be great.”

“Awesome. Okay. Let’s get started.”

You hopped up and closed the doors to the common room so you wouldn’t bother anyone and then pulled out the rest of your notes.

“Umm. Wow.”

You glanced up and he was staring at the rainbow papers in your hand.

“Colors help me study,” you told him sheepishly.

“Do you do that during class?”

“Oh God no. This is what I spent eight hours on in the library tonight.”

The look of shock faded and he nodded.

“That makes a lot more sense.”

“So umm, where do you want to start?” You asked nervously.

“Let’s do the most recent section on bonding?” He suggested, flipping through his own notebook.

“Sure. Sounds good.”

The two of you studied surprisingly well together and by 6AM when your first alarm went off you were both feeling fairly confident.

“I think that’s about all my brain can take,” he groaned slightly as he stretched and you couldn’t help but notice the strip of skin that was exposed as his t-shirt rose up. “I think I’m going to go take a shower and try to wake up.”

“Probably a good idea. I’m probably going to fall asleep during the exam,” you half-laughed as you stretched your neck. “Maybe I should skip the nap and go try to track down some coffee and start the caffeinating now.”

“No way, you need sleep for sure.”

“I’m kind of afraid I’m going to sleep through my exam. Besides, I don’t think I’m going to get much sleep out here.”

As if to prove your point three different people exited their rooms to shower in the next few seconds. Steve frowned slightly before looking at you with a slightly bashful expression.

“Well, since I’m gonna shower. You could come nap in my bed. And then I can make sure you’re up for the exam.”

“I couldn’t possibly. I mean, what about your roommate?”

“He had PT this morning at 6.”

You couldn’t believe you were actually considering this. But you were exhausted and it would mean you didn’t have to worry about waking up for the exam.

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. If you’d rather I can just come back up here and wake you.”

A few more people started traipsing into the common room, and you knew you’d never get any sleep.

“Actually, I think I will take you up on that offer. Thank you.”

He smiled and grabbed your backpack.

“It’s the least I can do. I did steal your couch after all,” he grinned.

It turned out he lived two floors below you. The room was neater than you’d anticipated. Both lofted beds were made and the desks held stacks of papers and books.

“Make yourself comfortable.” He gestured to the bed on the right side of the room before turning to his drawers to gather clothes for the day. “What’s wrong?” he asked when he noticed you hadn’t moved.

“Uhhm…” You eyed the gap between the floor and the bed warily. He’d removed the ladder that typically went with lofts, clearly not needing it.

“Oh, right,” he laughed to himself putting two and two together. “I usually use the desk to get up there.”

“Okay, if you don’t me using it then I’m good.”

You kicked your shoes off next to his desk and sat on it before swinging your legs up and spinning so you could stand. You wobbled slightly and Steve reflexively extended his hands towards you. From the desk, you were able to swing your leg up and haul yourself into the bed.

Steve tugged the blanket from the end of his bed over you.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, the softness of the bed already lulling you to sleep.

“Sleep tight, y/n.”

  You groaned as you were shaken awake.

“Go away, Nat. My alarm isn’t even ringing,” you mumbled burrowing further under the covers.

However your eyes snapped open when you heard the throaty chuckle that most definitely did not belong to your roommate. You bolted upright, looking around to orient yourself. The piercing blue eyes you came face to face with didn’t exactly help your focus; you were hyper aware of his warm hand on your shoulder.

“Hi,” you squeaked out.

“Good morning,” he grinned. “How do you take your coffee?”

“On exam days… black.”

He hopped off the desk and set a mug under the Keurig, as you tried to wake yourself up.

“You know those are illegal,” you teased.

“Trust me. I’m providing a public service. Under-caffeinated Bucky Barnes is not good for anyone.”

“Don’t worry. My lips are sealed.”

He handed you the cup before hoisting himself onto the bed next to you.

Inhaling deeply, you let out a content sigh. “Cute boy bringing me coffee. You know, this is not such a bad way to wake up.”

“Happy to be of service.”

You grimaced. “I said that out loud didn’t I?”

He nodded, smirking.

“I’m just going to drink my coffee. Under-caffeinated y/n y/l/n isn’t good for anyone.”

“I don’t know about that,” he teased. “She seems pretty nice to me.”

Rolling your eyes, you nudged his shoulder.

Once the caffeine was coursing through your system, the realization that you had an exam hit.

“Okay. Right. Exam. Let’s do this.”

Steve took the empty mug from you before helping you down from the bed.

“Well I should go change, assuming my roommate isn’t having round 2. Thanks for the coffee and for letting me crash in your bed.”

“Anytime.”

You arched an eyebrow and he blushed.

“I just meant it was my pleasure. I mean… I…”

“You’re gonna hurt yourself. Seriously thank you. I’ll see you at the exam.”

“See ya.”

You felt him watching you as you walked to the elevator and you bit your lip to keep from giggling.

 A/N: So full disclaimer I do not recommend that you sleep i random strangers beds. lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this! I had a lot of fun writing it. Stay tuned for more fluffy goodness. 

Tag lists are Open! 

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[wroteasongabouther]

I'm definitely gonna need a morning after with that best friend post

bestfriend!harry part 2 please???

Bestfriend!harry is the best consept in the whole world, I love you for writing it and PLEASE post more asap! Literally the best thing I’ve read in ages

That bestfriend!harry was amazing! Will there be a part 2?

You and your best friend did that? HOLY SHIT that’s hot af WRITE A SECOND PART PLEASEEEE

pleaseee do part 2 bestfriend!harry

I would DEFINITELY like to read a pt two of the best friend Harry one is you want to write one !!!!

Could I request a pt 2 to the bestfriend!harry??

YUP SO AFTER ALL THESE REQUESTS I DECIDED TO GET ON THIS AND WRITE A PART TWO

AND YET AGAIN I WENT OFF OOPS

HERE’S PART ONE

“Holy fuck I have the worst headache,”

“Drank too much?”

“Shut up Niall this is your bloody fault and that disgusting flavoured vodka,”

“Didn’t think it was disgusting last night,”

Harry glares at the blonde haired boy while he opens the cupboard beside your fridge and grabs a single serve Keurig cup and pops it into the Keurig. Before he starts it up he grabs a mug, funny enough it’s the one he had bought you for a house warming gift. Printed on the plain white mug was a photo of him in his stupid Miley Cyrus costume, which was oh so flattering. You have a good laugh from it whenever it gets used though.

Remy and Niall start arguing about something in the living room - which was open to the kitchen - as you open the fridge and fill up your glass with more filtered water. As you’re drinking half the glass, the fridge still open and water jug still in hand, you caught Harry’s side glance at you. Your body feels like it’s burning and your head feels like it’s about to explode. Half of this could’ve been prevented if you just stopped what had happened last night. But you knew you wanted it. Question was if Harry wanted it or not.

You fill up your glass again, eyes focused on what your doing, then close the fridge. “Feeling alright?” You ask Harry as he rubs both his eyes.

“Might throw up,” he states.

“Gross,” you chuckle and walk out of the kitchen.

You weren’t going to be the one to bring up last night. Maybe he just didn’t remember, you could live with that right? Pretend that you had blacked out as well and go about your life as normal. Send Harry stupid memes and have him over alone to binge watch The 100 or make ridiculous jokes and sing along to music in his car. Things didn’t have to change because you two got a little too drunk and handsy.

“Rems, are you still gunna hang out today?” You ask while taking a seat on the couch beside Niall. Remy sat on the carpeted floor with a blanket draped over her legs.

“Yeah,” she shrugs, “my roommate had been seriously annoying lately and I like you better anyways,”

“You better,” you stick out your tongue.

“I should probably get goin’, gotta let the dogs out or me mum will freak,” Niall says while standing from the couch.

“How long are you house sitting for again?” Remy asks.

“A week,” he replied while gathering his things. The two of you nod and say goodbye. “Tell Harry goodbye for me,” he says, causing you to look around for Harry. He must’ve felt real sick, probably hugging the toilet for dear life and cursing Niall for giving him more shots after the club.

You had woken up an hour ago, Harry’s body no longer touching yours in any way. Immediately imagines of last night flooded your brain as you heard the light snores from beside you. A stinging feeling was felt in your chest as you overthought everything. Harry didn’t like you, he never did and never would. Last night he got too drunk and blacked out while his horny side took over and got you off. That was that, and now you had to live with it and ignore the hurt inside.

“Jesus, took you long enough,” Remy grumbles while getting off the floor, “first Y/N’s bed and now the loo, what’s next ya gonna steal my car to drive home too?”

“Sod off,” Harry mumbles as you watch Remy walk passed him towards the washroom. Your eyes follow Harry as he walks into the kitchen and grabs his mug full of coffee.

“Feeling any better?” You ask as he takes a seat next to you and sets his mug on the coffee table. You have to curl your legs up as he sits down, but Harry is quick to do as he usually does and grabs your ankles to let you rest your legs in his lap. It’s not out of the norm, yet after last night it felt awkward.

“Not really,” he admits, “Niall leave already?”

You nod your head, “had to let his mums dogs out,”

“Fuckin’ twat didn’t look a bit hungover,” Harry grumbles as he reaches for his coffee, taking a sip before setting it back down. His hands casually rest on your calves and your body sets fire again from his touch.

“Did you sleep alright?” you ask to fill the awkward silence between you two.

Harry nods, “did you?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you mumble and look away from Harry as his eyes are on you.

“Good, thanks for letting me crash in your bed,”

“No problem,” you clear your throat and meet his gaze. He had to of remembered, this can’t just be eating you alive. “But next time maybe let Remy sleep in the bed, cause if I have to hear her complain about sleeping on the floor again I’m going to go crazy,”

Harry chuckles and nods, “for sure,” he says.

“I am freaking starving,” Remy shouts while entering the living room again. You sit up striaght, taking your legs off Harry and watch Remy. “Let’s get some McDonalds and then sit and watch shit tv all day,”

“Works for me,” you say while standing up and stretching, “you gunna come along, H?”

“No, I should get home,” he states and gets up slowly from the couch. He reaches for his coffee mug and finishes it before walking into the kitchen and putting the mug into the dishwasher.

You and Remy get ready by the door and as soon as Harry joins you feel tense again. He’s not watching you more carefully than any time before, he’s not making an effort to touch you, he’s just slipping into his boots and jacket before holding open the door for you. Both Remy and Harry wait for you to lock the door then you all make your way downstairs.

“Are you even gunna make it home?” Remy asks Harry, who had to stop once outside to potentially throw up some more.

“Yeah,” Harry swallows and shakes his head, “fuck Niall, that fuck,” he mutters.

You chuckle and bump into him, “maybe I should’ve stayed up, seeing as I’ve got a bigger dick than you,” you tease. It was an inside joke. Harry sniffled during sad films and he complained more than you did. Therefore, your metaphoric dick was bigger than his.

Remy had kept walking towards your car while Harry stood up straight again and took one large step towards you. He was so close, and your breath gets caught in your throat. Flashbacks from last night flood in as you see Harry lips turn up into a smirk.

“Don’t recall you having a dick last night,” Harry says in a low voice.

Your eyes widen in shock from his words as he steps past you. He remembered. He remembered and he wasn’t going to do or say anything else about it either? You shake your head and turn around, seeing Harry step up to his car that’s parked beside yours. This was really happening. You and your best friend casually fooled around last night and were brushing it off casually too. You could do this. Taking a deep breath, you get into your car and start it up as Harry pulls away.

“What’s up with you two?” Remy asks as you drive down the street.

“Nothing,” you say with a shrug.

It was nothing. A one time drunken mistake, right? That’s the page you and Harry were on, right? Fuck this.

Hey you busy tonight?

nope just was gunna stay in tonight actually

Oh, well wanna start re-watching The 100? The new season starts next month

yeah sure! come over whenever

K, probably will be sometime after 7, just at work. There’s so many punks trying to play the guitars today it’s annoying.

show them who’s boss lol

…

pick up some liquor i wanna make it a drinking game lol

I’m down! You need something too?

nope im good thanks tho

…

Come open your door

Hello?

Y/N!!!!!!!!!!!

shut up i’m coming!!!!

“Were you in the shower?” Harry asks as you answer the door with a towel in hand while drying the ends of your hair.

“Bath, actually,” you correct him. Harry closes the door behind him and you want to the couch.

“Nice,” Harry nods and walks into the kitchen. “You use one of those bath bomb things I got you for Christmas?”

“Yup, it was blue and pretty,” you smile.

“Want a mixed drink or the cooler drinks you’ve got in the fridge?”

“Cooler please,”

Harry moves around in the kitchen and you click through your smart TV to get to Netflix to start up The 100. As Harry takes a seat on the couch with you, he passes you your drink before leaning back and relaxing into the cushion he claimed as his own over the years. He once went off about how it had shaped to his bottom one drunk night - arguing with you and Niall, of course Niall was more into the discussion.

Things felt normal. Not like he had fingered your last weekend and now you hadn’t talked about it since. You made up a few starter rules for drinks, ending up chugging half pretty early. By the second episode you were resting your legs in Harry’s lap and finishing your second drink.

“Bellamy is kinda a dick in this season,” Harry states before finishing off his drink too.

“Want another?” you ask while standing up from the couch.

“Yeah, thanks,” he smiles and hands you his glass.

It was the liquor getting to you, as you pour Harry’s drink a bit too strong accidentally, you were day dreaming about dirty dirty things. Screw drunk Harry last weekend touching you like that. Now with a simple look you got even more turned on than before. Before it was a crush sorta feeling, but like you’d always love him and want him. Now you had a little taste and wanted the whole damn cake. You crack open your drink and have a long sip.

How could you do this? Friends with benefits, that is the best angle right? You ponder these things while taking your seat again and give Harry’s his glass. He grabs your ankles and brings your legs up into his lap again - a giggle escapes your lips from his action. While the show plays, you have trouble paying attention. Harry’s gently rubbing your ankles and up your calves.

“So,” Harry draws out the word, causing your head to spin as you look towards him, “are we not talking about last weekend then?” he asks.

“Uh,” you’re so thrown off, “I mean, we can, yeah, sure,”

“You didn’t like it?”

“Uh,” this was really happening, you suck in a deep breath and have a sip of your drink, “I mean, yeah I liked it,”

Harry chuckles and lets his finger tips tickle across your skin, “yeah, stupid question I guess,” he seems nervous.

“Was it a mistake?” you question, the most burning one of all.

“I don’t think so,” he shrugs and keeps brushing his fingers along your skin, “it was kinda nice,” Harry admits.

“Yeah,” you breathe out.

Harry looks up and meets your eyes now. You take this moment to have another sip of your drink. You definitely needed the liquor to get through this conversation. You catch Harry let out a low chuckle before he moves your legs from his lap. Thinking he’s getting up, you sit up some more and move out of his way - only suddenly Harry’s holding himself over top of you, his face is so close you can feel his breath.

“How nice?” Harry smirks, “do it again, kinda nice? Did you want me to get you off again, pet?”

Your eyes flutter closed and then back open again as your stomach twists and turns. “If I’m correct,” you pause and take a few seconds to look into Harry’s eyes, “I owe you one,”

Harry states down at you for a moment, as if he’s trying to figure you out. Then he smirks and moves away from you completely, sitting back in his seat and finishing off his drink. You watch him, confused by what was happening - had you said something wrong?

“As you wish then, pet,” Harry’s voice is rough but then he clears it and motions for to his pants. Your eyes fall to his crotch, and yup there’s a growing bulge against his jeans.

You lick your lips, sitting up and getting off the couch slowly. Nerves come over you as you end up between Harry’s legs. As the show continues on in the background and Harry leans back while his hooded eyes are on you, it’s obvious this night took a turn. You’d blame the alcohol. Finally you suck it up and pull out whatever sort of sex machine was inside of you and reach of the button of Harry’s jeans.

You don’t think, instead you just imagine how good this will be. Pulling down the zipper slowly, you can feel his hard cock. Swallowing hard, you push down the material and let out his pulsating cock. Without looking up you know just how much harry is controlling himself by the throaty sound that comes from him as you run your thumb over the tip of him. So many things are running through you head. But you let them fade away as you lean forward and lick all the way up his shaft before closing your lips around the top of him. You let go on him and look up to see Harry watching you, the list in his dark eyes was obvious.

“Ready for me already, huh?” You question, letting the thickness in your voice stay in hopes it sounds more sexy. Harry let’s out a groan as you flicker your tongue over his tip.

“Don’t be a tease, pet,” he grumbles.

“Not being a tease, am I?” You say jokingly, using an innocent voice while peering up at him again.

“Oh baby,” he struggles as you blow out dramatically through your mouth, only an inch from his tip. “Just put those pretty fuckin’ lips around my cock, pet,” he groans and without another second to staple you close your lips around him. Bobbing up and down on his cock, you hear him groan again and again.

You should’ve known he’d have a long thick cock, especially after last weekend with it pressed up against your bum all night. But it’s surprising as you’re sucking him off, gagging every few motions as you try to force as much of him into your mouth. You like it though. The feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat. It’s a slutty feeling, but it’s one you’re dreamt of before. Harry whimpers and moans as you keep moving, occasionally popping his cock out of your mouth and working fast with your hand only to have it back in your mouth again.

“Fuck, let’s it, take it all,” Harry let’s out a long loud groan as you push his entire length into your mouth and stop at the base. Your eyes are watering and then you let go as you feel as though you’re about to gag.

There’s no wasting a second as you feel Harry’s hips buckle. He’s close, liking what you’re doing to him as much as you like what he had done to you. You bob up and down near the tip of his cock, lapping your tongue over the tip every few seconds. Harry moans some more and you feel his hand on your head, fingers threading into your hair.

“You like it don’t you, being on your knees in front of me, huh? Like my big cock in yeh mouth, pet?” Harry says through clenched teeth. You peer up at him through your lashes, popping him out of you mouth but working his shaft with your hand as a smile curls upon your lips.

“You like my lips around your big cock, don’t you?” You tease back. Harry cursed under his breath as you quickly suck him off instead of waiting for a response.

You work faster as you feel his throbbing in your mouth. He’s about to burst, you just know it. The hand he had in your hair tightening, guiding you down into his cock as he throws his head back and groans loudly again. His cock twitches in your mouth, any second now and he’s be filling up your mouth. You feel it hit the back of your throat suddenly, the hot salty taste causes you to sit back and stick out your tongue as he comes. It all goes into your mouth, grunts and groans with each spew. After a moment you wrap your lips around his cock, causing another string of moans, before letting his cock free and swallowing.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Harry mumbles with an arm over his eyes and his other hand on his stomach as his chest heaves. You smile, turning around to grab your can to wash away his come.

“Now,” you pause while taking you seat on the couch again, “we’re even,” you smile.

Harry let’s out a chuckle while situating himself back into his pants again. You catch him shaking his head as you focus on the tv across from you. There’s no more words, you know you’d sucked the damn life out of Harry as he stays leaning back in the couch with his legs apart. You can’t wipe the smile from your face as his hand rests on your thigh and you two continue to watch the show and play your drinking game.

“Ha! Murphy threatened someone, drink,” you say before lifting your can to your lips. Harry drinks and pats your leg, pointing at the fact Clarke was giving some shit speech to “the people”, meaning another drink for you both.

Any more of this and you’d be passing out soon from the amount of liquor you’ve had.

[rydenbolt]

@thisbrutalbelle

Honorable mentions @scarlettxruby @strangerein @monsterbyamile @ianncardero @ephrampettaline

(Finally, edited and posted, way late! Tagged for everything under the sun because when these two talk about their fucked up lives, they need all the tags. Hope I didn’t miss anything, if I did, let me know! Also, we are missing the first few posts, they got lost in action lol Under read more because long, with disturbing convos.)

If the young wolf was bothered any by Bella’s lack of face paint, he didn’t show it. And as a matter of fact, he totally wasn’t. He hardly noticed the difference. But that was just Ryden not knowing anything about makeup in general. Neither his mom nor Sarah used much. So he ended up uneducated in these things. He still wondered what lash curler was used for. When Bellamy explained things further about what Ruby had done, Ryden couldn’t help cringe at that. That was… bad. Bad, bad move. People were probably shocked. “Yeesh… Well, I guess shit happens when you get drunk.” He shrugged. “I was there when she got bit. We weren’t sure if she would turn. I mean, there’s still a tiny chance she won’t, right?”

Bella pulled her lips to one side. She had known Ruby a while even if they hadn’t interacted often. Bella always hoped Ruby would mature a little, pull herself together, but it always seemed just out of reach for the human. Still, she didn’t know of Ryden’s exact relationship with her so didn’t intend to say anything when there was no specific need. However, as he continued she immediately ground her teeth. Of-fucking-course Ruby was turned directly in front of someone, of course she had dragged them into something like that and they were now stuck with that, with seeing that and feeling that worry for her she had incited in Bellamy, and in her ex-husbands, and Bellamy just folded her arms. “Honestly? Tiny, super fucking tiny, depending on when she was bit maybe bigger but…fuck, were you okay?” she asked him, unfolding her arms to reach up, the tips of her fingers moving his head this way and that before trailing his arms and feeling for any bite marks.

“I’m cool, babe. If there was anythin’, it’s long gone.” Ryden hummed, letting her turn his head this way and that to inspect him. It was nice, having someone to worry about him in a town full of basically strangers. “Don’t worry sweetness. I’m a tough cookie~ Wanna grab a drink with me by the way? I am thirsty yo… This heat, I can’t…” Ryden fanned himself with his hand a little - he wasn’t good with heat in general, being a furnace himself, but a place full packed of people, all this energy being burned into the air had Ryden practically drenched in sweat. For once, he just craved water. Gallons and gallons of it. In a pool he could submerge himself in, if possible.

Not noticing anything worrying on his form she let her hands fall. For all the two flirted with one another Bellamy knew it was mostly an outside amusement to the two of them. Perhaps one that bordered on inappropriate but they’d talked about things, and Bellamy trusted Ryden and that trust wasn’t based on nothing. He’d shared with her, he mattered to her. Perhaps most people were strangers but Bella felt like they were friends. “You definitely deserve a drink,” she smiled, starting over to the bar, lifting her hand and assisting in fanning him though it likely made no difference. “What is your place like, by the way? Because I can’t imagine your bath or shower is going to be very relaxing,” she teased him as she raised her hand and a bartender immediately came over. They brought Bellamy one of her usual drinks but waited for Ryden to order before grabbing it.

“Oh, well, I bunk with a nymph at the train tracks in this house he lives in. It’s cool, kind of reminds me of one of my childhood homes. Like… the fourth out of at least ten, heh.” Ryden joked but honestly, he haven’t had a proper bath - like, fill the tub up and soak in for hours - in months. Maybe longer. He took showers regularly though, while on the road, managing. If Ryden was anything, he was resourceful, easily swimming in whatever waters life decided to throw him in. He ordered water and a bunch of ice, and please make it a bucket-full, yes.

That sounded so weird, train tracks, she didn’t know there were that many places around there but she hadn’t yet been to Ryden’s home. Why go to his when her own was large, full of food, and had an amazing sauna bath? “That’s a lot of homes,” she noted. “Did you live with your parents?” It was hard to imagine people without them, purely because Bella had both until she was a teenager and her father bailed on them, but logically she knew that wasn’t always the case. “Well if you ever need an escape you can always use my place, I’m only there half the time anyway.”

“With my momma. We moved a lot cause we got evicted a lot. Cause we were piss poor.” Ryden explained, not looking phased about it. “Aww, babe. Not fun if ya ain’t there.” He gave her a gentle pinch to her side. His water was served and he practically chugged it down in one go, spilling some down his chin and chest. Then he dipped his entire hand into the bowl of ice, taking a handful and rubbed it against the back of his neck with a groan.

Bella nodded her head. She’d had friends like that but it had never been her life and she knew she could never totally grasp what that was like for an eight year old child. When she was eight she cried that the church wouldn’t put her in the Christmas pageant because she sounded like a screaming cat when she sang. “I lived in a white picket fence cul de sac Barbie dream house,” Bellamy told him. “But I still would have run away and lived with you because I made dumb decisions,” she smirked, looking at her own drink for a moment. She had run away sort of, thrown out actually but she could have gone back if she’d got sober. “Aww, maybe another night. I told Miles I’d crash at his place tonight,” she stated and the two of them needed to talk about him springing on her at the fry place whether or not she wanted to meet his kids. “But when I have a free night you can come over and we’ll wear swimmers in the sauna and watch movies and I’ll put you in a fancy robe.”

Ryden just had to bark out a laugh at that. “Baby, that sure would’ve been a very, very bad decision. Teen me was piss poor, on the streets most o'the time, kicked out of school and on a good path to become a criminal and a coke addict. No girls should be havin’ any o'that.” He admitted because it was true. By his eighteenth year, Ryden had no prospects, no future and no brain. And until Sarah came along, things weren’t any better. “No problem babe.” He nodded, totally not bothered by Bellamy choosing Miles over hanging out with him. It was perfectly normal and he had no problems with that. “Shit… You actually do have a sauna at your place, huh? You’re not shittin’ me??”

Bella scratched the back of her neck. “Basically was what I had,” she scrunched up her face. “I drank a lot back then, I mean, I drink now but my vampire body can take it. I drank to black out then and didn’t really…live up to my potential or whatever. All my friends were either drop kick addicts like me or dealers,” she ran her hand over her thigh, putting her drink down. “That’s sort of why I…choked you that first night we met. All your…tattoos freaked me out.” Bella swallowed saliva in her mouth, staring at her fingers still, watching as they balled into tiny fists hard against her thighs. “Reminded me of someone I knew with you that close to me, all I could see was your inked skin.” Obviously she didn’t feel that way now, she knew this was Ryden and that she was safe with him. Fortunately his words lifted her a little. “I do, and a steaming hot rain shower,” she smiled at him, lifting her head as he had her feelings. “And more bathbombs than I could ever need.”

No wonder they hit it off so quickly - Bella and Ryden were more similar than they realized. The young wolf nodded in understanding, the way a former addict would understand another one of their kind, without any further elaborate explanations on the topic. He knew exactly how it was. “Yeah I guess… us bein’ bitten and turned was kinna both a blessin’ and a curse, yeah? Cause when Sarah…” He swallowed a lump stuck in his throat. It was odd to be able to talk to someone about it so freely - to someone who knew enough of the story to understand. “When Sarah was killed, I woulda prolly gone back to it. Shit, the next day, when I came back from the police station and took care of everythin’ I… I took a hit so hard I fuckin’ lost meself so deep down the rabbit hole I reached China. Stayed coked up till the funeral. God knows what I did in that house those few days. Prolly contemplatin’ killin’ myself with a rusty spoon, heh.” He could laugh about it now, sure, but it actually mortified him. It mortified him that he broke the promise he gave to the woman he loved. He promised her he’d not get into trouble again, stay out of jail and get clean. The minute she was gone, he broke all of it. And that made him a trash of a person. Looking back at Bella, he was surprised to get an explanation on something he’d already forgotten all about. “That someone hurt you, baby?” He asked, although of course, Bella wasn’t obligated to explain. At the mention of a rain shower, Ryden groaned. “Oh my god, I always wanted to try those… Shit, baby doll, I might just take ya up on that offer and come over for some quality bath time.”

Bella usually would have laughed at his play on words but the fact was it wasn’t funny that something like that had happened, that Ryden had fallen down into that dark place when he lost someone. It was a twofold kind of hurt that Bellamy herself couldn’t completely grasp because she had never lost someone that exceptionally dear to her. Really she didn’t think his wife would have held his actions against him, surely she’d have been able to understand from where ever she was. Besides, Ryden was clearly clean now, a few days of hurt couldn’t possibly make or break who he was. “Was it the funeral that made you stop?” she asked him, hands still on her thighs. Hurt sounded like an exaggeration because at the time she was already so fucked up, what was this one act? What was the importance of it done a few times in the grand scheme of things? And really if she said yes other times… Bella shook her head, knowing her thoughts weren’t right but still feeling them anyway. “Yeah, I guess, sort of. You know how it is when you’re like that, it’s like you don’t really know what shit was really happening and what…what you did to be a part of it.” At his agreement of coming over to try the rain shower though she smiled happily. “A puppy and a doll having a bath, it sounds like we’re toys in some kids playroom,” she giggled.

Ryden huffed, chuckling bitterly. “No. Made me wanna do it again. The bite made me stop. For obvious reasons. It was just… bigger than that.” Ryden watched her as she practically admitted nothing but actually said far more than she meant. Ryden instantly figured it out. He dropped what was left of the ice back into the bowl to melt. “I lived in a bad hood. Like… real bad hood. There was this guy there, one of our neighbors, when I was twelve. He was sixteen an’ he was… well, he knew shit. He smoked, he had a few tats. He spoke like he put up with no shit. He could drive a car. Yanno. Cool stuff stupid boys like us found so fuckin’ impressive. So we flocked to Benny. Benny was our god. So one day, my momma sent me to the store, and I see Benny hangin’ out in the hallway, no shirt on, smoking a cig. He calls me up. I drop off the stuff, come up and am like, what’s up B? And he gets me into his apartment and asks me if I want some.” “Now, where I lived, ‘want some’ meant only two things. Not a snack. Not refreshments your momma brings to yer room for your friends. It meant, ya wan’t some crack or ya want some pussy. I froze. And said yeah. So he opens his bedroom and there was… this girl. We all knew her. I can’t… remember her name for the life of me but we knew who she was. She did things for a fix. Yanno. And she was lying there on the bed, naked as she can get, drugged up outta her mind. Benny closed the door. And there I was, standin’ like I crapped my drawers, twelve years old, scared shitless. Scared to hurt her, scared to get out and get beat for bein’ a pussy. Or worse, a fag. My hood suffered no homos.” “So I just stood there for long enough for Benny to think I did somethin’. And when I got out I put my zipper down, just to make it seem real. And outside in the livin’ room, Benny had called up other kids from the block in the meantime. And the next kid got in right after me…” Ryden ran his tongue over his teeth, looking away for a second. “I didn’t dare to get out of my room for days. Couldn’t get it out of my head.” He looked back down at Bella. As random as this story seemed, he shared it for a reason. He shared it because maybe Bellamy would share hers too. Because he could guess really well what happened to drunk, drugged up girls when they went out. And it was horrible. Absolutely horrible. But then a smile twitched his lips apart and he threw an arm around her, pulling her close. “Sounds so fuckin’ cute I think I’ll die, yo~”

Bella felt awful things down her spine as Ryden spoke, immediately feeling out of place in the crowded restaurant that had become a club for the night. Her hands made their way from her thighs to her arms and wrapped around herself, fingers buried in the fur of her jacket. She knew exactly the kind of guy that he was talking about because that was Jason to a T. The tats, the drugs, the car, all that stuff that made him seem like hot shit even though he was one of the only other white people in their neighborhood. The more Ryden spoke the worse Bellamy felt, a churning in her stomach as he spoke about seeing this girl, lying on a bed completely fucked up. Bella knew what that was like beyond a shadow of a doubt. Admittedly she was scared of what Ryden would say next, after all he was twelve, it wasn’t just happening to this woman, it was happening to him too. This shady fucking guy telling him to do this awful and fucked up thing. But he didn’t, he pretended but he didn’t and that made her feel a little relief. To imagine Ryden would have been hurt that way, to have the memory of doing that would have broken her tiny vampiric heart. Still, it was traumatizing but at least he could look back and know he hadn’t done it.  “I think you were pretty strong not to cave. All these people telling you that to be something you had to do this fucked up thing and you didn’t,” she said, still clinging to herself, already wishing she had more drinks than what was before her. Yet the cocktail was still there and she reached for it, finishing the whole thing. It was habit now more than addiction. The only thing she could be addicted to now was blood but it was the idea that she could get blacked out and fucking forget like she’d done throughout her youth that made her still instinctively reach for her drink. “I don’t know if where I lived was bad, but…I hung out with bad sorts of people because - because my life wasn’t real, least I didn’t believe it was. There was this guy, Jason, and he would give me rides places and when I didn’t want to be at school I’d drive around with him while he dealt and we’d fuck and steal from convenience stores, and then, you know, eventually we’d be somewhere everyone was drinking and smoking and doing shit and sooner or later I’d be blacked out. I honestly don’t remember like half of being a teenager but…,” she paused, placing her glass down in case she grasped it so hard she broke it. Bellamy hadn’t told anyone specifically what had happened, the first person she tried to tell had told her it was her own fault, and so telling others became too scary. What if they felt the same? Iann and Ephram assumed but never asked, seeing how much Bella blamed herself. “I remember some stuff, hazes of things. I remember him climbing on top of me and my hands not working, like I tried lifting and pushing but nothing happened but laughter. And there were others, his friends, whenever I was like that and whenever I was just…fucked. I don’t know how often it happened but…when I was fine I mean, I still slept with him, I still slept with lots of people, probably even the people that…whatever. So, why wouldn’t they think it was okay, you know? If I was sober I probably would have said yes.” Immediately she was trying to justify it, trying to say how it was okay what had happened, that her feeling like she had been hurt was stupid because she had done things before or after that allowed it. She was so young, and so lost, and now it was hard not to blame that stupid girl, even if it still made her sick to think of what had happened. “I don’t think it was anyone as young as you were though.” Think being a key word that frightened her even more.

“How could I cave in? Everythin’ in me screamed against it. It’s not strong. It’s… shit, it was wrong and I just couldn’t do it…” Ryden shook his head. Looking at him, everyone probably thought he had been picking up girls early on with that pretty face and smooth talking, leather jacket and the bike. He didn’t. He’d barely managed to get himself a girlfriend in high school after this and they haven’t done much till he was eighteen. Things like these happening throughout his life made the teenage Ryden into one very withdrawn, angry boy, scared of ending up like his no good dad, who got a seventeen-year-old pregnant and left. Scared of becoming a bully while at the same time being scared of what would happen to him if he didn’t fit in. Would some little fuck come up to him and pull out a knife, stab him in the gut cause someone spread the word around that he was a homosexual cause they heard he didn’t play around? Would someone wait for him in a dark alley, beat his face into the concrete within an inch of death because he went chickenshit on something everyone else seemed so proud of? Growing up with these uncertainties was not happy camping. Not in the least. And sometimes even Ryden himself wasn’t sure how he got past his twenties. Listening to Bellamy speak, it was hard not to give this guy Ryden’s face. Ryden understood perfectly well why Bellamy reacted the way she did that night at the Horned God. When she was talking about Jason, Ryden clearly saw himself. That was his life too - dealing, living on the streets, robbing stores, vending machines, ATMs, stealing cars and selling the parts or just going for joyrides before leaving the vehicle wrecked up in some ditch. Drinking, doing coke, doing some pot, meth even. Crack. Whatnot. Ryden had been everything but strong as a kid. He’d been a fucking coward. As cowardly as this Jason dude. Given, at least he’d never forced himself on anyone. If he beat someone up it was because they would strike first. If a girl said no, he backed away. If he was too drunk or high, if he blacked out, he blacked out where no one would see, where he wouldn’t do something stupid. Mostly next to a dumpster, in his own puke. Or in some ditch. Or on a bench. It was sad, pathetic, stupid. Not much different from that prick Bella hung out with. “Babe… Between a yes and the silence there’s a whole world of difference. A guy needs to be one seriously sick asshole to touch a girl who’s not feelin’ well. To touch a girl who… blacked out. Who can’t speak, can’t move… It’s sick and those dudes make me wanna barf. What they did was… it was rape, baby. It was not fine, it was not okay just cause ya slept with 'um b'fore. It was sick and it was rape. End of story. No excuses. The only thing ya did wrong, baby doll, is that you didn’t love yourself enough to walk away from it. To walk away from an asshole who would leave his girl helpless, defenseless for every ugly, vile motherfucker to hurt and use.”

To have such conviction at such a young age was strong though. Bellamy didn’t imagine many of those kids walked into that room able to not do anything because obviously Ryden had been scared about it being found out he hadn’t done anything. This older kid, in a place where no one was really looking out for you, people would do what they had to. Didn’t make it right, didn’t make it okay, but also didn’t make it fucking easy to not become something awful. “But to be twelve and to think it was wrong, to know it was wrong and to not do it even though you had some fucked up guy telling you that you had to… I mean, that’s fucked up what was happening and you did the right thing, puppy,” she said, reaching out and taking his hand in her own, squeezing it gently. He didn’t much feel like a puppy anymore but he was still that to her, incredibly sweet and loyal and clearly not willing to hurt people without cause. As Ryden said what she had seen in shows, heard in ads and read on the internet she knew logically he was right. These were things she had told herself but it was hard to believe it. It was hard to think someone you considered a friend would really want to hurt you, that they did it knowing it was wrong, and beyond that it was hard when she had been told before that it was her fault, that she put herself in that place. Believing that was so much easier than believing that she really had been…raped. A word she barely liked to think, and certainly felt uncomfortable saying. “Takes a while to love yourself,” she mused, still holding onto Ryden’s hand. “Moment I found out my parents had me to perpetuate the lie that their relationship was I just…I don’t know, didn’t figure I really mattered very much. And so it was easier to get drunk and forget I existed. You had a reason you turned to everything you did, right?”

“Yeah.. well…” Ryden shrugged his broad shoulders, suddenly looking small and shrunk despite his bulk. “I wish I stayed that kid… That kid might’ve not done some other stuff I did.” He brought her hand up, kissing over her knuckles real quick before he lowered it down again, returning the gentle squeeze. “Yeah, it does… Live and learn I guess.” Reaching for another sip of the ice cold water, Ryden shrugged again. “I suppose, but I went about it in the stupidest way possible. I was just sick of bein’ poor. Sick of seein’ momma cry over bills she couldn’t pay. Sick of her not havin’ pretty things like make up, clothes, purses, what not. Sick of seein’ her work eighteen hours a day for minimum wage, tryin’ to raise a kid on her own. So, instead of helpin’ her out the right way, I went lookin’ for shortcuts. Given, the place I lived at didn’t teach me no better but my momma did try. And I didn’t listen. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, I guess. My old man was the same way. Guess it’s in my blood.” Looking back at Bellamy, expression softening to one not usually found on Ryden’s features. “I’m so sorry, sweet thing… So sorry for the things that happened to ya. No girl deserves that. Wish I could take it away, wipe that slate clean for ya.”

Bella wished the same. That she could have done something for him, made it easier. Nothing he said sounded shocking considering the people she had surrounded herself with as a human. It’s why she paid ridiculously well at Erzebet’s, why she was pretty fucking lenient about people taking time off. How could she not pay someone with kids enough to support them? How could she ask they miss their birthday for something as stupid as bringing people their food? There was always someone else who had a free day. With his lips on her hand she smiled gently. Such an odd time and place for all of this but the loudness of the dancing people helped make it a little easier. “You still have your Mum?” she asked him, wondering if she even knew where Ryden was now. “And when you’re a kid it’s easy to just…want to make things easy because shits already so fucking hard. You really think you’re like your Dad now?” she questioned. “Wish I could for you too,” she told him, moving closer and wrapping her arms around his middle, soft cheeks against his firm chest, getting neon paint on her cheeks but not minding in the slightest. “I never told anybody that though, so…,” she rolled off, hoping Ryden got the implication. She wouldn’t say anything about his stuff to anyone, and she was sure he would do the same.

“Yup, still got my sweet momma.” Even though Ryden only had her, he loved his family nevertheless, despite all the stupid stuff he did. Genna was the only person in Ryden’s life who never gave up on him, never left him and was always there. She was the reason he was here now - to keep trouble away from her. To at least keep her safe. Wrapping his arms around Bella as she hugged him, he shrugged his shoulders. No one could hear them in this noise and to any who had nothing better to do than pay attention to them, they couldn’t ever guess what they’ve been talking about. “I don’t know… Sometimes? I try not to be.” He really didn’t know. Because he knew that partially, he was being irrational about it. This like father like son enchanted circle was still something Ryden was trying to run away from. And he wasn’t sure how far away from it he’d gotten. “Yeah…” He muttered softly, kissing the top of her blonde head. “I’ll take it to the grave, babe. Scouts honor.” He promised as he let her go.

“You should bring her by,” Bellamy told him, a smile coming onto her face as she realized Ryden wasn’t alone. Her own mother was in her life but she’d never been close to Bellamy, Louise had always created a purposeful distance between herself and her daughter. Besides, if his mother truly had done so much for him then she deserved to have some things done for her. “Treat her to some spa treatments at Antoinette’s, dinner here when it’s not like this,” she insisted. Maybe he didn’t want to see his mother here, or maybe he wanted more control over what he was before he brought her by. “Well, I think you’re wonderful, and if your dad sucks then you’re not like him to me,” Bellamy assured, squeezing him gently as she held him in her arms, it was hard to let go after all of that. It was a strange relief to let it out to someone, to really share. Bella knew that for Ryden he’d probably shared with Sarah, and perhaps others from before he came here, but she was happy she could possibly bring him some relief in the town as he was giving her. “As if you were a Scout,” Bellamy teased, pulling away and looking up at him with that big grin on her face.

“No.” Ryden refused, instantly, shaking his head. “No, she can’t come here. I can’t let her… I can’t let her know these things. Nope.” God how he’d love to bring her here. Take care of her. Pay her back for all the things she’d done for him and have her not work another day till the rest of her life. God, he’d love that. But she can’t know about the supernatural world. About what he’d become. The thought of her being scared of her own son, of a child she gave birth to but had been turned to something else now… He couldn’t stand seeing her realize this. Seeing her afraid of him. And more terrifyingly, he could not endanger her by bringing her here with him. He was away from her for a reason. It made him tense up instantly to even think about these things. Chasing those thoughts away with a roll of his shoulders, he managed a small smirk. “Thanks, babe. Appreciated…” But her teasing did earn her a pout. “Oi! I’d make a mighty good one if they took me in, let it be known!”

Bella watched him shake his head, frowning a little as she tried to understand. She’d seen how others wanted to keep their families separate and assumed she just would never be able to understand. Her mother and father hadn’t loved her the way most children were loved and kids knew that so Bellamy had never felt very capable of loving them back. Iann she loved like family but…he had always known. “Perhaps you could pay her a visit then, borrow some of my cars, take her to a nice dinner, go see a show or something,” she suggested with a smile. Whatever the case if he had his mother Bellamy didn’t want him to lose her because of what he was now. “I mean, you might have looked cute in the little uniform with all of your tattoos, and admittedly I love the idea you know how to tie a knot or two but, come on, boy scout?” she asked with a raised brow.

“Yeah… maybe one day.” Ryden concluded this particular topic with that, because going deeper into it would require explaining who the Man in Black was and what exactly Ryden was doing here, so far away from home. And that might endanger not only Bellamy but maybe even others he’d met in this town. If they didn’t know, they wouldn’t have the need to protect him and in turn, the Man in Black will not lash out and hurt anyone for it or worse. If he tries to pass through this town. “Hey, at least it could be a good porn movie theme.” He shrugged, giving Bellamy a wicked grin, especially if she proclaimed that that was gross and totally inappropriate.

Ryden seemed quite resistant to discussing his mother which was strange considering all he had shared. There was no intention on her part to push though, signaling the bartender to bring her another drink as her own way of acknowledging the conclusion of the topic. She was sure that there was a reason, there had to be but Ryden had already shared so much of himself Bellamy knew that she didn’t need to be greedy, eventually she would know. When he felt comfortable enough with the topic itself, or with himself, or whatever it was that was blocking him. “Well if you ever decide to do it then we know what your first movie will be,” she smirked. “Personally I don’t think I have the personality for it but you? I could see it.”

“Nawww, contrary to all beliefs actually. I would seriously be bad at it. I mean, yeah, sure, I’d look good on camera or whatever but the moment I’d have to do it, I’d be like… yeah, nope, camera shy, sorry, he’s hiding now, byeeee, heh.” Although Ryden liked to joke about it and had the kind of vulgar humor that would make any prude’s skin crawl, it was the truth. Aside from how he looked, he wasn’t really made to be a porn star or alike, and neither did he plan to do it. Still, he did admire the people who could. “I guess we’ll both just have to settle for sendin’ amateurish nudes to whoever’s interested, heh.”

Bella snorted as he said he’d be camera shy, amused by the picture of a confident Ryden becoming quite small the moment a camera was turned in his direction. “Mine are not amateur, any picture of me is practically art,” she insisted, though her phone filled with selfies said quite the contrary. If she needed that many shots of one outfit or make-up look from one angle then it lost its credibility as art and just became insta-hoeing. “I’m sure yours are amateur though, awkwardly angled ab shots with your sweatpants vaguely visible. And with all your tattoos photoshopping yourself would be much harder,” she happily teased, linking her arm with his own. It was nice they had relaxed, especially since eventually he’d have to get back up on stage.

“Oooh, excuse us mere mortals standin’ in the presence of such greatness~” Ryden chirped with a wide grin, giving the petite vamp a little nudge with his elbow before they linked their arms together. “Yeah, I’m terrible at it but hey! I always looked better in person. That sure counts for far more likes than on Facebook.” He shrugged, ordering another glass of ice-chilled water. Because he was still kind of dying.

“Facebook? How old are you again?” Bella continued to tease, watching as he ordered more water. She’d never know what that sort of need felt like again. The need of someone living to quench a thirst not because they were an unholy creature but because they’d been sweating like mad for hours in a very crowded location. She missed it and thoughtlessly her fingers trailed along the warmth of his arm, hoping she might feel it by proxy. She didn’t. “How many of those are you going to need to get back up there, puppy?” she asked, raising her hand for another cocktail. It would do nothing but…it would feel like she wasn’t just standing there like a strange dead thing.

“Olllddd~ Still stuck in the age of VHS and push button desk phones.” Glancing down at her, Ryden gave her a look. “You know what? You’re a slave driver. Fine, fine! I’m goin’!” He moved to leave, but it was obvious he was joking about it.

Bella rolled her eyes. She was twenty-four so she could still remember VHS tapes and push button desk phones but they were definitely hazy childhood memories. It was actually weird to think of, remembering using a cordless house phone to call her friends in elementary school. Then in high school everyone with their colorless nokia phones. When he pulled to leave though she just gripped him tighter, pulling him back to her. “No, I need you for as long as you can spare for me.”

Of course Ryden didn’t intend to leave yet, so it was easy to pull him back to sit. The party was perfectly capable to go on without him for at least another fifteen minutes. He grinned at her. “Oh, she needs me now. Go figure.” He took another long sip of ice water. “So, ya been to get some fries and didn’t bring me some? I’m miffed.”

“I actually felt a little bad leaving without you,” Bella admitted. Ryden had worked so hard on the party and to leave for something like fries felt cruel but she hadn’t wanted to abandon Miles in favor of Ryden, especially when he was busy. “You didn’t miss much but a little drama though.”

“S’okay, babe. Drama’s not my thing anyway.” Ryden reassured her, definitely not annoyed because he’d been left to manage by himself. As a matter of fact, he’d hardly noticed anyone was gone. They had a full house tonight and he was kept busy. And talking about busy, he would have to go up there soon for real. Maybe after another drink with his baby doll though.

[nojam-secrettime]

blood ties; 03 [SVT’s S.Coups]

Genre: vamp!AU, fluff, supernatural!AU

--> part 1 | part 2

Word Count: 1.3k

Admin: Rianne⭐️

As soon as Namjoon left, Seungcheol turned to you, "Oh my god, you're okay, you're safe. He didn't hurt you right?" He asked, his hands running up and down your arms as he looked you over. He couldn't smell any blood, so he knew nothing was bleeding. But he wouldn't be able to sense if Namjoon grabbed you too firmly or if he pushed you a little.

He slowed a little when you started nodding your head, you moved to wrap your arms around his torso and buried your face in his chest. He easily moved to stroking your hair calmingly and rubbing your back. "You're safe, baby. I got you." He murmured as your body's instant reaction to the crash of adrenaline was to cry.

You surprised even yourself as you started bawling, Seungcheol held you through it all, giving you time to catch your breath. You were an ugly crier, honestly, your eyes got all puffy and your face all red. When you pulled away, he smiled at you and wiped away your tears.

You hiccuped once and tried to catch your breath enough to ask the question that had been bothering you, "You're not mad at me?"  You hiccuped again at the end of your question, looking away. You were honestly afraid of the answer, what if he was mad but he felt so bad for you so he wasn't going to say anything?

The surprise on his face gave you a bit of relief, "No, of course not, baby! Why would I be?" He asked, hands on your shoulders. He took slow deliberate breaths, unnecessary, but he was trying to calm you into rhythmic breathing to get rid of the hiccups.

"I kept that secret from you, I've known almost my life about it. And you should've heard it from me and not Namjoon." You told him, pulling away from him. You were so disgusted with yourself, Namjoon of all people, told him instead of you. You should've done it, it was your responsibility and he trusted you.

Seungcheol wrapped his arms around you tighter as he felt you pull away, "Baby, I would never be mad at you for something like that. You shouldn't tell just anyone something like that and I understand why you didn't want to tell me." He told you, giving you a reassuring smile.

You frowned, but nodded. He was forgiving you, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was still wrong. "What did he mean by the way?" You asked just as Seungcheol took your hand to lead you out of the alley. You had taken a few steps when he stopped.

"Hmm?"

He turned to you and you pressed on, "Namjoon. What did he mean by I'm not Marked?" You asked, making Seungcheol sigh.

He opened his mouth once but said nothing, he shook his head and reached out to brush his fingertips over your cheek. He curled your hair behind your ear, his fingers lazily dragging down to your neck. It tickled, but it also felt nice. You willed yourself to not say anything as he opened his mouth to speak again.

"He meant that I haven't drank from you yet, that I haven't made you mine, that you are still a free human who belongs to no one." He said, his hand curling around the back of neck. You didn't dare breathe, watching him take in a deep shaky breath.

"You smell wonderful as always." He said, his eyes glazing over in red. "It shouldn't even matter whether you're Marked or not, you're mine. You always have been and always will." He muttered, you stood there, frozen as he dragged his nose along your jawline. His breath tickled your skin but you couldn't move.

What did that mean? It sounded so much heavier than your four-year relationship, something you didn't know. You both kept so many secrets, but this felt different, you needed to know.

He pulled away from you just as you got your brain to function normally again, "Come on, baby. Let's go home." He said, smiling at you. He took your hand and started leading the way again but you noticed his smile hadn't reached his eyes. It was a sad sort of smile, one you didn't see very often when he looked at you.

But you let him lead you back to the apartment in silence, the one you shared in the co-op. Few vampires were out and about but none of them dared to bother the two of you. He kept you as close to him as possible, while he kept an eye out for any possible ambush.

But nothing. You reached the apartment in peace and he let the both of you in and went straight to your bedroom and grabbed you clothes. That nagging feeling in the back of your mind still bothering you, leaving you in a haze of confusion.

You had to figure it out, what was it? He knew something that you didn't, but what?

You turned the hot water on and stood there, alone with your thoughts of what just happened. Seungcheol had said you were his, always had been. He said that he knew everything about you. He was surprised when Namjoon told him about the compulsion.

But was that what he was surprised about? You replayed it over and over again in your head, their conversation, him on your neck after. You thoroughly showered and sighed, unless it was true.

You had assumed he was lying when he said he knew everything about you, but what if he wasn't? He had already known about the compulsion, that's why he wasn't upset? He made it sound like it was okay that you didn't trust him, which wasn't true.

You trusted him with everything, your life, your blood, everything. And he knew that, there was no way he believed you didn't trust him. You groaned loudly, throwing your face under the water in anger.

He had known, there was no other explanation, he knew about the compulsion immunity before you had even told him anything. He knew.

In an instant, you shut off the water and quickly changed into clothes, rushing out of the bathroom where he was on the phone, his back to you.

"Yes, sir. She's safe." He said in a low voice. "I would never let anything happen to her."

You took a step forward and he visibly jumped the sound of your arrival. He turned, clearing his throat, hanging up the phone quickly.

"You knew." You said simply, looking directly at him. "You knew about the immunity, that's why you weren't surprised when Namjoon told you."

He started shaking his head in denial and glared at him, "Don't lie to me, Seungcheol." You said sternly. "Who were you on the phone with?"

He crossed the room, holding his arms out to try and wrap you up, you moved out of the way just enough to reject him. "Baby, I can explain."

"So you don't deny it then." You frowned, crossing your arms over your chest. You felt too exposed, he had always known more about you than you of him and that hurt more than anything.

Seungcheol sighed, standing right in front of you, looking down at your feet. "I knew about it, yes, but there's a lot of things you don't know, and now isn't the best time to tell you but you should probably find out before anything else happens." He said softly.

You frowned, looking at him as he hung his head low. "What is that supposed to mean." You said, biting back the anger in your voice. He knew this whole time and said nothing? This whole time since that day you met at the carnival?

"Your immunity is because of your bloodline, and I am your Consort."

A/N: hi~~ Sooo.. LOL. yes there will be a part 4 :) no, i don’t know how long this is gonna be honestly. And i don’t even know how this happened ... it sorta just.. happened but anyway~ Enjoy :D