#both of them are gonna past out and wake up tomorrow without any memory of yesterday's events

[cyclorose]

[Mistletoe]

merry christmas to those who celebrate it, if not, I hope u still have a great day !! <3

[frostbitepandaaaaa]

🌀🌈 for the wip ask game!!

omg tina!!! first off, thank you!! <3333 second it's so funny that you and ebby both submitted the same asks.

🌀Post the fic summary for a fic you haven't written/published yet. It can be hypothetical or something you really plan on releasing...

okay this one is gonna be fun because i actually haven't written any of it yet. so nice job! this is, again, an idea i have for Rebelcaptain Week!

Three days and two planets and Cassian has not once left her. Even when he should have. Even when he had maybe wanted to. He had come back for her, again and again, unable to consider that, maybe, it might be for the good of the mission. That, maybe, she might be better off without him, without the Rebellion. Hells, she might have just been better off dead. But he has to leave her now. It's the only way. (missing scene. for rebelcaptain week 2024.)

🌈 Share something soft/fluffy from your WIP.

from Path of Totality:

“Cassian,” Jyn says into his ear. He shivers, the echo of all that had been brought to life between them ringing like a blaster shot within the simple shape of his name. She leans away and he lowers her back into the waves. Her eyes are wide, mossy iris drawn thin around blown pupils. “Does Spark… does it affect memory? Will I… I won’t forget this, right?” It’s the first time Cassian could positively identify fear in her face since they had arrived on Scith. Since they had embarked upon their first, true mission in the field together. Into strange and unmapped climes that would claim the courage of anyone not made of pure beskar like Jyn Erso. She had never once wavered, even when he would never blame her for it, and it only served to drive him deeper into the clutches of his love for her. And here she was, her only fear that she may wake up tomorrow and not remember. Not remember the hammered bronze of the ocean, the apple core suns burning in the sky, the ardent oaths exchanged with burning bellies and brows painted the color of blood. Cassian shakes his head, silently astonished. Vaguely wonders if he had always possessed this plunging depth inside him to fit everything she was able to make him feel. Or maybe she had simply thrust her way through. Had made the space herself. Hammered it out with truncheon and sheer, stubborn will. He wouldn’t put it past her. “No,” he tells her, “no. You won’t forget.”

thank you so much!!! <3

ask me about my WIPs

[phantom-thieves-official]

sorry I have to make another rambling p3 post. Yeah, about Junpei and Chidori this time. Yeah. It's gonna be long-winded as fuck.

Anywayyy. Junpei, as a character, wants to be relied on and understood, but can't bring himself to actually be open enough for that to happen. If you play as the femc in p3p, he outright says it. He skates by with humor to avoid having to be serious about anything. He feels aimless and afraid that he has no mission in life; no purpose or direction.

I would argue, in the 'canon' p3 (that is, with the male protag) the first time you really see Junpei be serious is about Chidori. If you play portable with the femc and do his social link, he has a few heartfelt and earnest moments. But even that isn't like how he is with Chidori.

When they'd met, he'd been thinking about his future and his place on the team; his reason for fighting at all. He was feeling down, like he only wanted to fight the shadows because it's all he could do - like that's all he had to offer, like there was nothing about him, Junpei specifically, that really brought anything to the table. I think it's really poetic how he's having this internal dialogue about how there's nothing special about him; nothing only he can do; how he fights because that's all he's good at and even then there's someone better than him at it.

And then he meets Chidori.

Because his relationship with Chidori is proof that there's something special about him. His relationship with Chidori gives him a purpose in his life, it draws out the serious side that he tries to bury under humor. It takes all these feelings of uncertainty he has and it dismantles them. When Chidori gives her life to revive Junpei, his life isn't just his anymore - it's hers, too. And because she lives on within him; because he is living for both of them now; he finds new meaning in his life. Whereas in the past he avoided thinking about his future too much, now he's actively working to make that future happen. When SEES is deciding what to do about Nyx and Ryoji, I think without Chidori there's a real chance Junpei might have chosen to kill Ryoji and lose his memories - he's the most obviously distressed by the situation, and the old Junpei - the one afraid of being serious, afraid of being genuine, afraid of his future and his own purpose in life - would have taken the easy way out. But now, he has Chidori to fight for. She lives on inside him; this is her life, too, and he can't waste the sacrifice she made for him.

I think there's also something to be said for how Junpei fears there's nothing special about him - there's nothing only he can do. And yet, when Chidori is in the hospital, who's the only one who can get her to speak. Who's the only one she will open up to in any way, shape, or form. It might not be flashy like the protag's persona abilities, but there is something only Junpei could do: make Chidori feel. Chidori is a character that is defined by apathy. Her chance at a normal life was stolen from her by the Kirijo group's experiments. She doesn't care if she lives or dies - to her, it's just a matter of if she wakes up or not.

But with Junpei, she cares. She cares about him. She cares about whether she lives to see tomorrow. Now, dying would mean being apart from Junpei, and for the first time, she finds dying to be scary. He is, perhaps, the only thing that's ever made her feel this way - that's something only Junpei could do, even if he didn't realize it. These feelings are so new for her that she's frightened by them.

Chidori had no purpose in her life, had no meaning. But when she sacrifices herself for Junpei, there's meaning in her death. Her legacy lives on in him, giving her life meaning by saving his. And, in turn, carrying her legacy with him gives Junpei new meaning in his life. He gives her life new meaning and she does the same in return.

And while we're talking about him carrying her legacy with him. Let's talk about the fact that his persona evolves by fusing with hers - he doesn't carry her spirit with him in a metaphorical "she'll always be in my heart" way. Her persona lives on within him, literally. In turn, his persona - the manifestation of his most inner self - is permanently changed by having known her. and the passive he learns when Hermes fuses with Medea is another symbol of this - it's the only hp regeneration Junpei learns. It's Chidori's desire to protect him made manifest; her love for him outliving her.

And, if encouraged by the protag to continue seeing Chidori even when she sends him mixed messages, Chidori can be revived herself. He brings her flowers, and from those flowers she is able to absorb enough energy to revive herself. Her actions save his life and in turn, his save hers. When she revives, she has no memories of the dark hour or personas - or of Junpei. Just like that, she has a second chance at a normal life - a chance at the life the Kirijo group denied her. A chance at a normal life because of Junpei's actions.

And Junpei knows she doesn't remember him. They still don't get a happy ending - they can't be together even if she's revived. And Junpei loves her enough that he's happy anyways. He loves her enough that he's just happy she's alive.

He gives her life and death new meaning. She gives him a second chance and newfound resolve and conviction; new purpose in his life. And then, with an act as small as bringing her flowers, he gives her one more chance at a life free from the pain of her persona and the dark hour and the Kirijo group. It's so poetic. Chidori's life is made meaningful when she meets Junpei - before that she doesn't care. Junpei's inspired to tackle his life and future more seriously when he's living for both himself and Chidori. And a tiny action, like bringing flowers, gives Chidori a completely new lease on life.

[sea-of-dust]

hey!! <3 can i get headcanons of yukina with a s/o who loves to compliment her and is totally head over heels for her ?? 🥹🥹

You praise me too much

Yukina with an s/o that praises for her

Notes: Thank you for the request! I open my requests after I realized my drafts weren't gonna work 💀. Istg bandori annons are the fastest people I've ever seen. Bandori annons are probably so fast they can rewind time 💀

Yukina

Why do you praise her so much. She doesn't find herself worthy of it to be honest. Someone so loving as you...she can't take it but she can't say no to it either

Winter was getting especially chilly out she was going to leave but you were like "no" as She got to circle freaking sweating. "YUKINA?! YOU FEEL LIKE A HUMAN HEATER!!" "Thank you ako.." The Roselia practice was canceled as everyone was enjoying yukina the human heater

Admittedly she wakes you up in the middle of the night to tell you the most important of things. "I'm cold" suddenly you're so active you simply become a Gatorade jumbo bottle. You get 2 more blankets and put them over her you don't need a blanket she does! You ended up sleeping without a blanket waking up seeing the cat blanket she brought on your lap

If you were at her place and that was to happen...why you simply have to become the blanket yourself. Holding her in your arms and dozing off to sleep.

She would show you her outfits before shows. You would always cover your face and look through your fingers "you look amazing my dear" you manage to mumble out.

She would never hear the end of your consistent love for her even if she would be mad at you she can't resist you. Afterall you know her better than she knows herself. "Yukina!" "..." "Don't give me silent treatment for not letting you pet a cat! How about this I'll take you to a cat cafe this weekend" an offer she can't refuse. "Fine" "Yay :D"

Whenever she compliments you, you always fluster up an complement her too. "I may have beautiful eyes to stare at but you'll always be the apple of my eye dear" calling her dear is gonna have her flipping and flopping internally

Your friends decided to test you and played only a second of a Roselia song. You answered them all correctly without hesitation. "Yo one of them barely had any sound-" "I recognize that iconic key of black shout" "HUH-"

You were at your job and they started playing Roselia. You could barely do your job thinking of Yukina. They had to put you in the back to wash dishes...

You wouldn't live with yourself I'd yukina had to lift anything to do anything. "Y/n why'd you stop me-" "I refuse to let you open a door" "what-" You opened the door holding it open. "Enter please"

You love seeing her after concerts. "YUKINAAA" You're almost crying twirling her in your arms. "That was *sob* beautiful *sob*" Shell never get used to how your able to lift her so easily

Yukina likes bringing up past memories with you on night when you two are about to sleep. "Remember when you asked me out? You nearly ran out of the stage." "You saw that-" You two giggle a bit "remmber our secound date? With the roller coaster?" "You screamed in my ear the whole time" "you shook me just to tell me about a cat-" "...it was cute" "cute than me?" "...." suddenly she's asleep

Speaking of lifting things easily you where helping her do groceries and told her to unlock her door. As soon as she turned around she saw you carring all of the bags in both hands. "Why your hands shouldn't be foiled by these bags" you say fleetingly "can you open the door-" "oh"

If she ever where to sleep on you you're suddenly canceling your plans for the day. Blush all over your face you're not allowed to move. For now on you're a rock. Unmoveable unless there were an outside force. You didn't wanna leave her but you had plans..."I'll do em tomorrow...but I can't wait for tommrow it's Monday tommrow...hmmm" so you desperately pulled off a Indiana Jones, you tried to replace yourself with a pillow. She woke up on a pillow with your face drawn on a piece of paper attached to it. "Sorry I had to go" posted on it.

Sometimes you would stay over and she would wake up to breakfast in bed. You somehow know she's awake and nearly run into her room with a small table in hand "Well I see you're awake I made pancakes with cat-shaped printings" You place down the table and go to grab a glass of water yukina basically stunned by the cats. How is she gonna eat it?! It's....it's too cute... you come back it and she hasn't touched them just staring. "Do you not like my cooking that much? wait you didn't even try them-" That morning she did eat the pancakes after thanking you she left the cat parts untouched tho...

[silvvermst]

THERE IS A LIGHT THAT NEVER GOES OUT

SYNOPSIS :: It’s almost Christmas, and what better way to spend it with him.

NOTE :: as promised, i present a grahamfield fic. read the first part :))

TYPE :: fluff / light angst

Max turned on the lights in her dorm while Warren followed her behind. “I’m sorry for the mess. I wasn’t sure if I should leave for the holidays or not, so the boxes Dina lent me were lying around.”

“It’s okay.” His words were breathy from laughter “You should have seen my room when it’s finals. It looks like I had murder investigation goin’ on.”

“I remembered.” She joined in the laughing fit, remembering the time she brought him some food since she found he had been skipping his meals.

“At least yours looks messily beautiful!” He exclaims, looking around the room in amazement. “Your room looks straight up from a Ghibli film.” Although, the thing that made it stand out was the wall full of photographs.

Max was too preoccupied with cleaning out some used papers on the ground to make her room look more presentable. Yet she stopped when she caught Warren examining her Photo Memorial Wall. “This is amazing…”

She smiled from his compliment, even if it didn’t reach her eyes she was flattered. She knows he’s just making small talk and avoiding the elephant in the room, she knows him too well. “Do you, do you have any questions about the other timeline?”

Warren turned his body to face her, “If it’s alright with you, I have but let’s talk about it at breakfast. For now, I want you to have some rest.”

“Alright. Whatever you say, Doctor.” He grinned at the nickname.

“This feels like we’re kids again, even if we never met as children. I’ve never been into a sleepover before, this feels nice.”

“I hope we did. It would have been fun creating all sorts of trouble with you.” They both sat down at the edge of her bed. “Can you stay for the night? I’m sorry, I know I just told you it was a couple of minutes.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’d sleep on the couch. Then, we’ll go to some diner first thing in the morning. Sounds good?” She warmly smiled at him and nodded.

“Thanks, Warren. I’ll find a way to repay you.”

He immediately shook his head. “You don’t have to, just by being one of my closest friends is enough. Just keep being you, Max, that’s enough for me.”

The conversation ended when they both set the glass down by the sink and Warren sat at the couch. “Are you sure you’re okay with sleeping on the couch?”

“Yep! Believe me, I can’t count the times I slept on my gaming chair all night. So this couch is actually an upgrade.” His reassurance gave her a peace of mind. But she still grabbed some comforters and a blanket to make the couch at least comfortable to sleep in. “We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

“Mhm, I’m gonna get that pancake sausage combo.”

“Oh, ho! I’m gonna get that pancake sausage combo.”

With saying that in unison they both laugh at themselves until it dies down and the both of them had settled on their respective beds. Max turned to face Warren across the room, while he did the same. Even with the lights turned off, the moon’s light shining from the window is perfectly illuminating his pale face that she couldn’t help but smile in relief to know she wasn’t alone with her thoughts any more. “Good night, Warren.”

“Sleep well, Max.”

For the first time, she slept without nightmares where she wakes up soaked in her own sweat while she tries to breathe normally and avoid a panic attack. This time she was awakened by the sweet and citrusy smell of maple syrup suddenly making her eyes flutter, with the sun rays making its way past her curtains she couldn’t help but open up her eyes. Across from her is an empty couch with the comforters and a blanket neatly folded to the side. The said person who is missing is currently singing along a tune in a small chest of drawers by the foot of her bed.

“Are you awake? I couldn’t wake you up earlier, so I decided to order some take-out.” He somehow managed to tell she was wide awake by just the difference of her breathing.

“Shit, I must have been out as light.”

“You are, no matter how many times I rang your alarm clock right next to you, you just won’t get up. A sleeping beauty, through and through.”

“Oh, please. There’s no way I was sleeping beautifully.” She sat up on the bed and threw a small pillow to his face. The good thing is that he was able to catch it.

Though he was trying to hide it, the corners of his mouth were twitching upwards. He couldn't help but laugh out loud from her annoyed face. After preparing their breakfast, Max was done fixing her bed and joined Warren by the couch. “Here, your pancake-sausage combo!”

“Mhm, that’s why it smelled so good here.” She salivated from the meal in her hands, but she made sure that the maple syrup was evenly spread from each pancake. While Warren… well, he made sure that the sausages got maple syrup as well. “Dude, what the fuck?”

“What?” His words were distorted since he was holding the fork with his teeth as he spread a large amount of syrup over his food.

“You’re disgusting!” Max blurted out. “What kind of psycho puts syrup with sausages?”

He took the fork and knife and started eating his pancakes, the enjoyment in his face was obvious. That he is that kind of psycho who will put maple syrup with anything as if it was ketchup.

“Eat your fill! Or I’ll take those lovely pancakes!” Warren said between mouthfuls. It prompted Max to eat as well, considering Warren is not typical to joke around food. He’s dead serious about eating others food if they don't want it.

After finishing your meals, he was the one who offered to clean it up. “I’ll be right back.” Once the door was shut, Max collapsed back to her bed. Every morning she has to remind herself that she did the right thing, but after she revealed everything to Warren. Her self-doubt and insecurity seems to dissolve as she remembers his words last night.

Warren’s words have no doubt behind them as well as his eyes that hold sincerity while he holds her close by the light house. He was giving her reassurance that she didn’t ask for, she wasn’t even sure if she deserves it. She sighed deeply, while trying to calm herself down she walked over to the foot of her bed and turned on her stereo.

The knock on her door pulled her back to reality, “Hey, since we didn’t get to that drive-in… want to go tonight?” Max smiled back at his suggestion and nodded her head.

“Fan of The Smiths, huh?” He asked, peering over to her shoulder to see her CD collection. “Oh, shit! Is that The Dark Side of the Moon?!”

“God, you’re the most geekest out of the geeks I’ve met.” She found amusement in his giddiness. “If you want I can lend you some CDs to play it on your car’s stereo.”

“Yes, please! You’re okay with me borrowing it?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t have offered if I was against it. Well, if you did ask me I’m afraid I’d still let them borrow it.”

“I know, that’s why I asked. Max, I know it’s rich coming from me but you can always deny us of things that are precious to you. You don’t have to be a…”

“A pushover?” She abruptly finished his sentence for him.

“Yeah, that.” He fidgeted his fingers. “But I’m not saying that you are one!”

She was laughing so hard that she momentarily closed her eyes from how much laughter he could pull out of her. “Relax. I didn’t take any offense from it.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst.” He exhaled through his nose while he covered his face with his hands.

“Hey, Warren… you still had a few questions about what happened, right?” Warren gulped, it was obvious that this topic would be brought once again sooner or later, he just didn’t expect she was the one who'd bring it up first. They both sat at her bed, while Max held her teddy bear.

“Yeah, about that, I think you explained some of it pretty well. I’m more curious about what happened with us from that different timeline.” He can see the gears in her head processing his words just from her expression, a blush that slowly appeared in her cheeks.

“Oh, yeah. Just like today, we got closer within that week. You saved me a bunch of times from Nathan, heck, you even beat him up!” Warren’s eyes almost sparkled and his jaw dropped, unable to believe the story.

“No way! I beat up that asshole?!”

“You did, but once it was over you regretted it. You were afraid that somehow you ended like him. But you’re not like him, I know you’re not that kind of person to use your powers to abuse others.”

“Ha… I still can’t believe it. Shit, what other things happened?”

“I saved Kate from committing suicide… because of Victoria. But there was something more sinister that happened to Kate, as we know today, she was a victim of…”

“Mark.” Max slightly flinched at the mention of his name. “I can’t believe the school let someone like him inside!”

“Uhm, aside from Mister Jefferson getting arrested as well as Nathan. In the alternate, Nathan was killed by him, while Madsen was the one who shot Mark in the head. Though, at least in this current timeline, I prevented Victoria from being in the Dark Room…” She bit her lip remembering her own time in that disgusting place. She turned her head away from Warren, as she was so absorbed in fixing things in the current time that she disregarded her own fears and mental health. “I, I was also there, even if it didn’t happen technically, I still feel it. Everything, everyone, what happened during that week for them it’s not real but it is for me! Even if it was erased, I… I wish I had forgotten everything that would’ve been much more bearable than this.”

Max couldn’t feel the disgust and contempt from her own self. “I wish I could take away your pain…” He gently placed his hand on top of hers as his gaze held a warm intensity that whispered of deep affection. “But I’m so proud of you for being strong.”

She could feel her eyes sting again as ripples of tears flow to her cheeks. “I can’t believe I’ve cried twice in your arms today.” Max let herself open up and nuzzle her head by his shoulders, trying to hide her face as much as possible. “Look, your shirt is wet again!”

He managed to let out a quiet laugh before placing his arms around her, gently gliding his palms to her head to brush her hair. Though his action made her embrace him tighter as tears continue to well up in her eyes. For once, Max was able to cry herself to sleep with someone holding her close, to dry her tears with their hands, and to tuck her in.

“I really wish I also have some superpower to help you with what you’re feeling, Max.” He whispered, gently laying her on the bed.

“Warren…” Max softly called out to him, her arms reaching to be wrapped in his neck.

“Yeah?” They were both silent for a moment while her lips brushed against his, she kissed him with a slow tenderness that stopped the world around them like she used her powers once again. She was almost convinced that it was until his hand touched her cheek, his thumb softly caressing her as a small act of affection.

“I want you to know that it’s technically my second time kissing you.” She whispered after they parted. The blush that spread Warren’s cheeks flared more after her statement.

“So, you mean? We, We kissed? Before? Like in the alternate timeline.” Overwhelmed by emotion, his voice cracked as his heart beat only quickened when she nodded.

“I was also the one who initiated the kiss back then because I was afraid that I won’t be able to at least tell you my feelings since I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to come back.”

“But you did, you came back. That’s why if you’d let me, I want to share your burden and pain that you’ve been carrying for so long, and ease you so that you’d be able to have a sense of relief even if it’s just for a moment. In this universe, let us be the one to take care of you.” This time his voice held a strong determination as he professed his love that he once thought was unrequited. Hugging her with warmth as she reciprocated his embrace. Their breathing slowed as a sense of safety and belonging washed over them.

“Just being with you was enough for me, I was able to properly grieve people I’ve lost and unbottle the feeling I’ve been trying to hide that I can let it go without blaming myself…” She paused, her voice was shaky from overwhelming emotions that engulfed her. “I, I want you to know that…”

“I do, I love you so much, Maxine.” He placed a butterfly kiss right in her temple and held her closer. “You don’t have to be alone and in the dark anymore.” He beams at her, his brightness and warmth made her feel secure in his arms. Her sun, her lighthouse that leads her out of the dark.

[lumosinlove]

Vaincre

part v

~

cw: homophobic encounter.

~

November

November shadows, 

shade November change

November spells sweet memory, 

the season blue remains

~

“Lo!” Finn called. “Guess who just got traded to the Rags.”

Cool dread spun its way into Logan’s chest at full force. He felt the point of one of his hips knock against the counter. “Quoi?”

“Marshy and Morgs!” Finn said, and the appeared around the corner into the kitchen, red hair a mess. “Like, together. Like us.”

“These were Harvard teammates, yeah?” Leo asked, spooning sugar into Logan’s coffee.

“Like us?” Logan said. “They’re dating?”

“Oh, no,” Finn laughed. “I just meant together, like, at the same time. Around the same time, I guess I should say.”

“Wow,” Logan nodded, which prompted Finn to imitate the way he said wow, drawing out the W’s. Logan smiled, lifting his cup to his mouth. “We could visit them over the next free weekend maybe.”

“Damn, that’d be a blast to the past.”

“What are they like?” Leo asked, leaning into Logan’s side.

“You’d love Will. Will Morgan, Morgs,” Logan said. “Really level-headed, probably the nicest person I know. Marshy…”

“Percy Marshall is one crazy motherfucker,” Finn said, and poured his own cup of coffee, black.

Logan leaned into mock-whisper to Leo. “And Finn gets insane when they’re together.”

Finn shot him a look, but continued. “Best way to say it. He’ll party until the sun, he’s crazy superstitious—worse than Cap and Loops combined—and he’s also,” Finn slid onto a stool. “One of the hardest working guys you’ll ever met. Probably the hardest working.” Finn’s smile was one Logan’s favorite one, made even more so by the fact that he got to see it directed at Leo. “Until I met you, that is, Nut.”

Leo let out a pleased laugh and let Logan brush a hand through his hair. “Well, they’re in our division now. I’ll get to meet them.”

“Oh, man, we’re in for a fucking treat when we play New York next,” Finn grinned. “Gonna hit the town hard.”

Leo snorted. “You guys might.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Finn pressed a kiss to Leo’s cheek. “I know everyone we need to know.”

“And I can finally tell you,” Logan began. “That the first time you dragged me around New York knowing ever person you saw, I loved you.”

Finn blushed a little and let Leo pull him to settle in the V of his legs from where he was leaning back against the counter. “Well, it’ll be nice to see them.”

Logan nodded, but part of his chest pulled. He cleared his throat. “Ouais. Also…”

When he paused, Leo tapped their socked toes together encouragingly.

Logan shrugged and looked down into his coffee. He thought of Finn’s quick breaths when they took the Cup back to Harvard. He thought of kissing him in their old room. He thought of everything before. Percy and Will were a part of all of that. Not directly, maybe, but Logan knew what seeing them again would do.

“Memories,” Finn said, and Leo nudged him.

“Don’t say it for him.”

“Oh, right, sorry.”

“Memories,” Logan agreed. “Good and bad.”

~

Remus missed the net three times in fifteen minutes, and only barely managed to keep himself from breaking his stick against the boards. He would be embarrassed afterwards if he had, but could it really be so much worse than the way that he felt now?

He accepted Thomas’ fist bump as he passed him going into the locker room and sat down heavily in his stall. The game had been close, but the Devils had won out in the end. He glanced at some of the assistant coaches, who were murmuring together. There was no guarantee it was about him, but it still felt as thought it was. Sirius was talking with Evgeni, Evgeni’s loud laugh warming up the room. Remus stripped out of his sweaty uniform quickly and was headed for the showers with a towel around his waist when someone slapped him on the back.

“It’s decided,” Logan’s accent came from beside him. He wasn’t bothering with his towel, which was slung over his bare shoulder. The fleur-de-lis tattoo on his hip—and everything else—was on full display. “Me and Talker are taking you out tonight.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean exactly?”

Logan just smiled. “No boyfriends. No hockey. We have a day off tomorrow, so no pressure. Just some drinks.”

“And some pool, maybe,” Thomas said, coming up to Remus’ other side. “What do you say, Loops? Fun, eh?”

“Okay, one of you is butt-naked right now and the other is in a three-piece suit. I’m going to say yes and shower, all right?”

Thomas gave a whoop, and Remus couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face as he dropped his towel in the change room and turned on the hot water. He felt like a sling-shot lately, being catapulted one way, and then in the opposite direction. He guessed he should feel thankful that his friends could pick him up like that, and he did, but another part of him caved in beneath the sheer affection.

I’m letting you down.

He scrubbed his hands through his hair, and looked over his shoulder when he felt a gentle, quick kiss against the back of his neck.

“Bonsoir,” Sirius said with a soft smile, and went to the shower head beside him.

“Hi,” Remus smiled back. “Beautiful goal tonight.”

He watched the water lace over Sirius’ tan skin, darkening his hair further as he pushed it back, away from his face. “You’re beautiful.”

“Hey, Olli,” Finn called across the showers, making Olli look over at him. “You’re fucking beautiful, man.”

Olli just squeezed shampoo into his palm. “I know that, Harzy.”

Sirius’ laugh echoed through the showers, joined by others, and Remus let it warm around him like the steam.

“Apparently Tremz and Talkie are taking me out tonight,” he said to Sirius as they walked back into the locker room.

“Tremz,” Sirius called over to him. “Ouch.”

“Pas de capitaines,” Logan waved him off and went back to looking at whatever Leo was showing him on his phone. Sirius laughed and looked back to Remus.

“Sounds perfect,” he said. “Wake me up when you come in if I’m asleep.”

“And go to bed without a kiss?” Remus glanced down at the towel slung low across Sirius’ hips, then back up to his bright silver eyes. “I’d never.”

Sirius smiled and kissed him, but Remus felt the unspoken settling between them. Sirius had stopped bringing up wanting to help with Remus’ shortcomings on the ice. Remus knew he had brought that upon himself with refusals after refusals to talk about it, but now it felt more like a thing. An object. An ugly vase in the corner of the room.

Maybe he really did need to go out tonight.

Thomas settled in his stall beside Remus. “We’re gonna go to Red’s, yeah?”

Remus nodded as he pulled his gray t-shirt over his head. He held up his dark jeans. “I can wear this, right?”

“Fuck yeah, I’m not wearing this thing,” Thomas picked at the lapel of his suit. “Noelle already screen shotted the snapchat I sent her. Why keep it on now?”

Remus just laughed. “All right, Talkie. Lead the way.”

Red’s bar was shoved up against the side of a larger block of buildings in Gryffindor. Remus glanced up, one or two stars were poking through the increasingly cooling loud cover. Inside it was warm, though. Foggy in the way some rooms get when there are lots of happy people in them. Logan had chosen a long-sleeved, dark gray cotton shirt, so thin that Remus could see each ridge of his defined muscles and his necklace, too.

“What the fuck happens when that thing gets wet?” Remus snorted, plucking at it as they waited for their drinks at the bar.

“I’ll pretend we had a fight,” Thomas said. “Throw a drink on you, find out.”

Logan just eyed them suspiciously as they leaned against the bar. “You guys are strange.”

Thomas just flagged the bartender, stretching the white material of his thin knit sweater. He ordered a whiskey, Logan a rum and coke, and Remus opted for a lighter gin and tonic. They still had a game on barely 72 hours. Not that anyone was that much of a light weight, but he didn’t want any assumptions being made, any photographs taken that could put him in a worse light than he already was.

“I know what this is, you know,” he said after Logan and Thomas’ intense COD debate had gone on too long. They both looked over at him, the picture of innocence. Remus rolled his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Media’s a bitch,” Thomas said. “That’s all this is. Hockey’s hard. You can’t help that you live with Cap, who makes it all look like a piece of cake.”

Logan laughed. “I think Cap would disagree. He stinks after games, mon dieu.”

Remus and Thomas shared a look. “And you don’t?”

“Finn likes it,” Logan smirked. “Gets him going.”

“Are you sure its the stench and not the muscles?” Thomas raised an eyebrow.

Logan waved him off. “I’m not talking about this with you two. We’re here for Loops.”

Remus groaned. “Guys…it’s not…I mean every player goes through this, right?”

They both nodded.

“Sure,” Thomas said. “But it doesn’t help that some people—“

“Assholes,” Logan amended.

“Right. It doesn’t help that some assholes don’t think you deserve to be here.”

Remus tilted his glass towards him. “Yeah.”

“We just think…” Logan began uncertainly, tongue poking out to wet his full bottom lip. “Look, I love Cap. He’s like a brother. But he’s intense. For him…sometimes hockey solves hockey.”

Remus wavered. “Yes and no.”

“We just thought you might want some other ears,” Thomas offered a smile. “I mean we can’t offer a feel good night of lovin’ to make you feel better…”

Remus snorted. “Right. You know, Talkie, that’s exactly what Sirius calls it.”

Thomas cracked up, too. “But we can offer drinks. And, you know…”

Logan raised an eyebrow at him, amused. “Ears?”

“Right,” Thomas nodded. “Look at Tremzy over here, finishing my sentences.”

Remus let his smile die down a little. “I…thanks, guys. I mean, I love talking to Sirius, but I also…he is the Captain. He’s a representation of all of us. I feel a little…” Remus took a slow breath, not sure if he was even ready for the words to come out of his mouth. “I feel a little like I’m letting him, and you all, down sometimes.”

“Aw, Loops,” Thomas said, voice softened.

“I know,” Remus sighed. “It’s just…it creeps in sometimes.”

Remus watched Logan swallow. “I get it. If there’s anything I can understand it’s guilt.”

“Tremz,” Remus said comfortingly. “I guess I should listen to my own advice here, but it’s not your fault. I can be ears, too, you know.”

“Is this…” Thomas said quietly. “Carrot?”

They both stared at him. “Carrot?”

“Code names,” Thomas whispered, even though the tables were noisy and the bar was somewhat empty.

Logan laughed a little, and nodded.

Remus waited. Logan gathered thoughts slowly, carefully. Interrupting, he’d learned while talking with Leo, tended to scatter them. He was also happy that the spotlight wasn’t entirely on him anymore.

“I found him at Harvard,” Logan began, swallowing dryly despite the drink in his hand. “And I was a mess. And then we spent that year apart, and I was a mess. And then I found him again, in Gryffindor, and I was a mess. I fell in love with Leo and I was a mess.” He looked at them, eyes pleading, then back down at his drink. “I am so, so happy now. It worked out. I can’t believe my luck. I wake up so fucking happy every morning. Every little look at them, my life with them, is incredible.”

Remus and Thomas waited some more. Thomas sent Remus a half smile across him, then leaned his cheek on his fist.

Finally, Logan finished. “But I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t a mess without them.” He closed his eyes, exhaled a frustrated breath through his nose. “That doesn’t make sense.”

Thomas nodded. “Yeah, it really does. Tremz, I get it.” He tilted his glass, making his ice cubes stir the liquid inside. “You’re someone when you’re with who you love. But you gotta be your own someone, too.”

“Ouais,” Logan was already nodded. “Right, like…Re, you’re you, no matter what. Leo, he’s the same way. Finn, too.”

Remus sighed. “I’m not so sure right now. But I think what you’re saying makes sense. Tremz, you’re allowed to want that for yourself. It’s not a slight to the boys. At all.”

Logan laughed, still laced with frustration. He rubbed at his eyes. “But I don’t even know what I’m asking for.”

Remus smiled. “Hate to break it to you, but you’ve got a pretty level-headed duo in your corner. I mean, Finn’s Finn.”

Thomas snorted. “Might take him a second.”

Logan smiled and it was fond. “Yeah.”

“But Leo…” Remus snapped his fingers. “He’ll get it. They both will.”

Logan narrowed his eyes at the bar. “I’m not asking for space. I don’t want space. I don’t want anything to change I just want to stop feeling like I’ll crash and burn by myself.”

“Me too,” Remus admitted. “Maybe in a different way, but…me too.”

“I don’t know if I feel like I’m gonna crash,” Thomas said thoughtfully. “But hey, life’s tough sometimes.” He smiled and raised his glass. “Friends.”

They clinked their glasses together, laughing, the conversation turning to organizing a pick-up game in the park that weekend—if it didn’t snow. 

“Gotta use the big WC, gents,” Thomas said after a while, picking up his crutches. “Then pool?”

“Who the hell calls it that?” Remus snorted.

“Me,” Thomas called over his shoulder, politely excusing his way through the crowd with his charming smile and causing a few longing looks to follow him at his back.

Logan drained the last of his rum and coke. “You don’t feel like Cap’s putting pressure on you, do you?”

Remus looked at him, eyes widening for a moment. “God, no. No, he’s been nothing but supportive. It’s mostly me, I think. He even wants to talk about it. Sometimes I just…can’t.”

Logan nodded. “Good. No, good, I just thought I’d ask. When I first met him, he’d get like that with me sometimes. Wanting to run extra drills or talk through tape. I snapped at him for it a bit. This was before he was really who he is now.”

“Parents were lingering in him,” Remus nodded. “Yeah, I remember.”

A man came to lean against the bar beside Remus, then, and Remus shot him a smile that he hoped looked friendly rather than uneasy. The guy was really in his space. He shared a look with Logan, who’s shoulders were rounded a little in alert, green eyes narrowed in on the guy.

“You’re Lupin, eh?” the man said.

Remus sighed softly, looking down at his now watery drink. He should’ve known.

“Yep,” he replied, and looked at the man. He had two friends, hovering a little ways back.

“What’s going on this season, huh?”

The worst part was that the man was smiling, as if he thought this conversation was going to go well.

“I mean, I know you’re with the Captain and all,” the man said. “But, I mean…come on. Some of us care about how the team does.”

“Excuse me?” Remus replied.

The man tilted his head, looking mockingly regretful. “It’s not just about you.”

“Okay,” Remus said, keeping his voice flat.

“What he do to get you there?” the man asked, leaning in like they were friends. “I mean, like…some type of reward, or does he already give you those at home?”

Remus flushed. “I think we’re done talking.”

At least his friends had the decency to look a little nervous.

The man narrowed his eyes. “I’m just saying.”

“Fuck off, man,” Logan said in a low tone.

“What,” he sneered. “You got yourself a boyfriend, too, Tremblay?”

Logan was on his feet then, stools screeching back, taller than the man, stronger. Remus’ arm shot out against his chest, keeping him and his balled fists back. The man’s friend stepped forward, too.

“Whoa, Mike,” one of the friends said, hesitating. “That’s not why we…that’s not what this is.”

“Oh,” Thomas scoffed, announcing himself as he made his way back to them. He somehow made his crutches and boot look threatening. “Wrong type of harassment for you, my guy?”

The fans’ eyes went large. “Talker…”

Thomas just stared at them, and Remus watched him go from Thomas Walker with his friends to Thomas Walker on the ice, defensemen. Enforcer. “Only my friends call me that. Sit down at your own table or get out.”

Thomas shouldered through them, one crutch landing briefly on Mike’s shoe, who only just bit back a groan. Thomas was all bright, sharp grin as he sat down, leaning his crutches against the bar again. He waved the bartender over, then looked at Mike who was still standing there.

“Do I have say it again for you?” Logan snarled. “Trust me, you don’t want me to.”

Logan sat down slowly as the three men backed up and turned away. Remus pressed a thankful hand to his shoulder, also meant to calm him down a bit.

“Well, that was fun,” Thomas sighed. “Jesus. We take you out to forget about it and those three show up.”

“It’s fine,” Remus said, though his heart was pounding. “I’m surprised that was the first time it happened. Had a close call at the grocery store the other day.”

“Another round?” Logan asked. “Then pool?”

“Ouais,” Remus smiled, in his best impression of Sirius.

~

Most of November passed without change. Remus felt the stagnant ball of frustration in his stomach. He and Sirius cooked together, slowly mastering more and more recipes. Remus lived for the triumphant look on Sirius’ face when a dish came out just right. He went out with Logan and Thomas, with James and Sirius, Finn and Jackson and Kasey. He never felt more at home than when he was tucked against Sirius’ side at a team dinner, watching Logan toss food into Finn’s mouth from across the table, hollering when he caught it and then ruffling an embarrassed Leo’s hair, who was shushing them.

The weather had officially turned to Gryffindor winter, biting harsher and harsher with each night. It got to the point where Marlene started bugging them all about the Christmas video—for the fans, she kept insisting. Come on guys, it’ll be fun!

Evgeni seemed to be the only one who was truly game for it.

Remus wasn’t unhappy, but the media was growing more and more aggravated with him, the fans’ patience was running thin like ice, and now Arthur had started sending him glancing looks until, finally, he pulled Remus into his office as the boys were packing up.

The ball rolled around Remus’ ribs, fighting for space with his heart, and he sat in the leather chair across from Arthur’s desk.

Arthur took off his glasses, which was a bad sign. He didn’t say anything for a long time and Remus didn’t have the courage to make him.

“I know,” Remus finally said, and then his throat choked up. “I’m…”

“I don’t want any apologies,” Arthur said. “And, God, Lupin, I didn’t bring you in here to yell at your so get that look off your face.”

Remus blinked through the scarce relief and looked down at his hands.

“Media’s being real tough, I know,” Arthur sighed. “I know. I just want to make sure you’re all right.”

“I’m fine,” Remus said. “I’m just…it’s not connecting, I…I don’t know. Maybe I could put in more time one-on-one with one of the coaches. Or ground work with the trainers. I know we’re about to go on the road. Maybe tomorrow morning before practice.”

Arthur hesitated, then nodded. “If you’d like. But overworking yourself isn’t gonna help if that’s not the issue. Frankly, I don’t think skill is the issue. You’re a beautiful skater out there. You’re wicked fast and can misdirect hits like I’ve never seen. But…”

“No net,” Remus mumbled.

Arthur looked regretful. “No net.”

Remus nodded. “I’m working on it. I’m doing everything I can.”

“I don’t doubt that, Remus. Really. Don’t think I do. I’ll be seeing you at the Dumais Thanksgiving, yeah?” Arthur asked.

Remus nodded, spared a smile. “Of course.”

Arthur smiled back and rose. He clapped Remus on the back as he opened the door to his office again. “Good. Try and relax over the break, okay? I know it’s short, but sometimes its less work that pays off. It doesn’t always have to be more.” He looked up. “Ah, another young rascal I’ve had to say that to.”

Remus looked up to see Sirius’ smile, his dark hair curling against his neck, but otherwise tucked under a thick black winter hat. Every muscle in Remus’ body eased at the sight of him. He wanted to wrap himself up in Sirius, tuck himself inside of his winter coat and never leave.

“Cap,” Arthur gave him a nod. “See you for Turkey. Who you’ve got for the big game?”

Sirius just shrugged. “American football. Who cares?”

Arthur made a wounded noise—and another one came from Leo and Thomas down the hall as they were bundling up for the cold. Evgeni was holding Thomas’ crutches for him as Jackson helped him into his coat. Remus cracked up and took the warm palm Sirius held out. They walked down the hallway that smelled familiar and warm, under toned by the scent of carpet and cleaner that, had it been any stronger, would have been unpleasant, but it just added to the familiarity.

The garage door rattled shut behind them as Sirius unlocked their back door, letting them into their warm kitchen. Remus shook out of his coat, hanging it in the closet and rubbing his hands together. With his coat and bag, he tried to drop everything else at the door. This was his and Sirius’ space. This wasn’t a rink, or a locker room, or the press room. Theirs. The word was warmer than the heat Sirius had set to come on a half hour before they got home.

“I’m starving,” he said. “What do you feel like? I maybe want pasta.”

“I feel like you,” came the reply from behind him.

Remus’ smile was slow and he turned to see a glint in Sirius’ eye. “What is it, the cold weather? You’ve been all riled up after games lately.”

Sirius just grinned, hands squeezing Remus’ hips. “I love watching you out there.” He pressed a kiss to Remus’ cheek, his neck and his nose, between each phrase. “I love your face, I love your feet, I love your shoulders, and the way you bite the finger of your glove while you watch the game between shifts.” The kisses got considerably more heavy, lingering and accompanied by the the brush of a tongue and teeth. “I love the way you cradle a puck and the way you tape your stick. The way your hair sticks to your neck.”

Remus just smiled, eyes closed. “I’ve been playing like shit.”

“Nu-uh,” Sirius said, and Remus whined a little at the next nip, letting Sirius rock him back against the kitchen counter. “Slumps are normal. You play amazing. Just no points. Shit and slumps,” Sirius said, and Remus’ mouth went dry as he was lowering himself to his knees. “Shit and slumps are different.”

Remus let out a laugh. “Aren’t those the words to turn a guy on.”

Sirius just grinned and bit at his pants zipper. “I love you.”

“Better choice.”

Sirius carefully pulled Remus’ zipper down. “Can I? Here?”

Remus only reply was tugging Sirius’ hat free to get at his hair, the thick strands weaving between his fingers. He could already feel himself getting interested, pressing against the slip of his boxers by Sirius’ proximity alone.

“Sirius Black,” Remus sighed as Sirius nuzzled against him.  He stroked over his hair, overwhelmed with how much every part of Sirius meant to him. “I love you.”

Sirius took one of the hands Remus had in his hair by and kissed the inside of his wrist.

Remus let Sirius’ mouth fuzz his mind out, moaning softly at his hollowed out cheeks, laughing at the gentle nips to his hips and thighs. After, Sirius kissed him against the counter until both of their stomachs growled. Remus pressed his mouth against Sirius’ flushed hot cheek.

“I feel like a million bucks, thanks, baby.”

Sirius just smiled, tucking himself away.

It was true. Remus felt home. Settled. Almost as if he could forget the conversation today. Maybe even like he wanted to go down the the basement rink, just for fun, which he hadn’t felt like in a while.

“D’accord,” Remus sing-songed. “We have pasta or chicken or both.”

Sirius grinned. “Both.”

They were mostly quiet as they cooked, bumping hips, iPhone playing softly through their speakers. Remus watched the way Sirius kept his fingers carefully curled away from the knife, like Remus’ mom had taught him that summer. His tongue peaked out of the corner of his mouth, the same way it did when he was carrying a puck up the ice.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sirius asked softly as Remus minced garlic.

Remus glanced over at him, then kept his eyes on his fingers, so close to the sharp blade. “Um. Coach says it’s not my fault. He says I’m playing well. It’s just…pointless.”

“C’est pas—”

“No, not like pointless, like, pointless. Like I’m not getting net.”

“Ah.”

They smiled at each other, Remus’ a little shakier.

“Yeah.”

I feel like I’m letting you down.

“I feel…” Remus began, and the words caught. “Um. I mean, it’ll get better. It has to.”

Sirius’ expression flickered, but he nodded. “Mhm.”

“Do you feel like a white sauce?” Remus asked, turning to the refrigerator. “Go well with the chicken.”

“Sure,” Sirius nodded. “Sounds perfect, mon loup.”

Remus took a long breath as he opened the refrigerator doors, maybe taking longer than necessary to find the half & half. He was angry at himself. He didn’t know why the words were sticking to the back of his throat. He didn’t want pity, he supposed. He didn’t want Sirius to feel like he had to comfort him. Remus closed his eyes.

He’d do better.

~

Leo and Finn had their shoulders pressed together, each with their own book in their hands, when Logan opened the apartment door.

“Got the cream,” Logan raised the shopping back, and Leo all but leapt from the cushions.

“Yeah you do,” Finn said without looking up.

“Thank you,” Leo slid on his socks in his rush to get to Logan. He pressed his palms to Logan’s cold cheeks, kissing him in a quick burst. “Thank you, thank you, I love you.”

Logan smiled as Leo scurried back into the kitchen to finish making his part of the the American Thanksgiving dinner Pascal was hosting.

“I can’t believe I ran out,” Leo said, stirring something on the stove.

“It’s fine, Le,” Logan said, shrugging out of his jacket and following him in. “Happy to get you whatever you need.”

Leo turned, a touched pout on his face, and Logan beat him to it this time with a slower kiss of his own. Leo tasted like the caramel he had had them all taste test earlier and Logan licked into his mouth eagerly.

“I love you, too,” Logan mumbled.

Leo’s expression softened in the way it always did when one of them said that. Maybe Logan wasn’t the only one who couldn’t believe his luck.

“Want to peel sweet potatoes?” Leo asked with a hopeful grin, and Logan laughed.

“Sure, soleil.”

Finn gasped from the couch, eyes on his book, glasses on his nose. “They kissed. I fucking knew they would.”

Leo gasped, too. “No. Harzy, spoilers, you’re faster than me.”

Logan looked between them. “Are you guys reading the same book again, like, next to each other?”

“Sorry,” Finn said, but he was gripping the book like another secret might spill out. “And yes.”

Leo pressed a peeler into his hands with another kiss, this one fast and skittering across his cheekbone.

“I love both of you,” Logan sighed as he picked up the first potato. “You’re weird.”

Finn closed his book without marking his place and heaved himself up with a groan, cracking his back. He came to sit at the bar counter across from where Logan was peeling.

“Thanks for the help, Harz,” Logan said.

“I don’t like it when my hands smell like potato.”

Leo laughed. “Sweetheart, how’d you ever survive on your own?”

“Take out,” Finn and Logan answered at the same time.

“And catering,” Finn added. “I think the NHL is used to boys who can’t cook. Marlene just slid the caterer’s card into my hand without a word.”

Leo just shook his head. “She tried the same thing on me. Honey, please.”

Logan and Finn shared a smile, both turning to gaze at Leo’s back.

“How much time do we have?” Leo asked.

“Like, two hours, babe, you’re good,” Finn said.

“Do I have time to ravish you in your glasses?” Logan asked.

Finn raised a teasing eyebrow. “Oh, these old things? You want to wear them?”

Logan dropped his peeler and walked around the counter. He spun Finn to face him on the stool and Finn’s feet hooked around his calves, holding him there. “Non.”

Finn smiled, leaning forward to nip at Logan’s bottom lip and pull.

“Tremblay, potatoes.”

Logan groaned and Finn gave his butt a firm slap as he pulled away. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

~

“Uh, hey dad,” Cole cleared his throat. “It’s me. I just um. I’m in Pascal Dumais’ house. Can you believe that? Uh, I just wanted to say…you know, happy Thanksgiving, and all that. Maybe you can come out to a game soon? Yeah…let me know, I can get you tickets. Okay. Okay, see you. Merry—or happy Thanksgiving. Yeah, okay. Bye.”

Cole sighed as he put his phone down and looked around the Dumais’ sitting room. It was tidy, with food laid out every table, ready for guests. Cole, after that phone call, already felt tired.

There was a knock on the doorframe and he turned to see Layla, smiling at him hesitantly. She held out a glass of a deep colored wine. “I thought maybe you’d want some.”

“Oh, I can’t, uh…” Cole began.

Layla snorted. “Me neither, but…” she glanced around the tall-ceilinged living room. “Who’s gonna tell? Dumo? Please.”

Cole laughed a little and took the thin stem from her fingers. “Thank you.”

Layla nodded, bending for a cheese and cracker. “That sounded a little tough. If you don’t mind me saying.”

Cole pocketed his phone. “It’s not really. Well…maybe now it is. But I don’t think of him that way, of this that way. He’s a good father.”

He sounded defensive even to himself and sighed. “When he decides to be.”

“He hard on you?” Layla asked. She took a seat on the couch and Cole glanced around before settling on the ottoman of one of the fat leather chairs. “About all this?”

“Hockey?” Cole said, then laughed. “No. No way, he doesn’t give a shit about ice hockey. My mom got me into hockey. My dad still hopes I’ll be, like, I don’t know…I don’t know what.”

Layla frowned. “It’s not like you could’ve been a money-bags doctor and chose to paint watercolors instead?”

Cole cracked a smile. “Yeah…Yeah, he sort of skipped around a lot before I actually started getting good.”

“Oh,” Layla said softly.

The doorbell rang. And then rang again and again, like someone was jamming their finger into it repeatedly.

“Tremzy!” he heard Katie shriek a moment later.

Warm voices filled the hall.

Cole rose and, after a moment, offered Layla a hand. She smiled, letting him pull her up. “It’s not as sob-story as it sounds.”

“I get it,” Layla nodded. “My older sister skipped altogether when I was little. Still don’t know why. I know it’s not the same but…”

“I’m sorry,” Cole said.

Layla just smiled, one of her bright ones, and wrapped her hand—gold rings and all—around his arm. “Come on. Shit’s about to get wild.”

“And delicious,” Cole said, turning towards the smells coming from the kitchen.

Layla laughed, and Cole wanted to hear that sound twenty more times.

[cyncerity]

Hiya!!

I hope you get this ask in good health! I hope you're doing well today too! <3

Anyways, I'd like to request something!

Maybe some G!Tommy and T!SBI+Beeduo fluff? and maybe soft noms included if you want to add that in, you don't have to if you aren't comfortable though!

Hi!! I’m doing good, and I hope you are, too, thank you for caring!!

Always up for soft noms <3

Gonna be honest: I didn’t know how to incorporate SBI and BeeDuo noms into one story so have 2 mini drabbles cause I’m unoriginal (which is also why it took so long sorry again)

Also I warned y’all a while ago that I would write a hide and seek oneshot lmao

Also also sorry for the lack of dialogue-

Tw: Soft vore in both stories. If you don’t like it, don’t read it <3

It had been a long day of work for Tommy, Ranboo and Tubbo. They had been working on fixing up Snowchester all day, and they were exhausted. At least, Tubbo and Ranboo were. The work hadn’t been too difficult for Tommy given his giant size, the snow had just been a pain in the ass. He didn’t understand why anyone chose to live in the freezing cold, he was miserable after having been outside for only a day. But he helped because of how Tubbo and Ranboo planned to “pay” him. The thought brought a smile to his face as he watched the goat hybrid finish fixing a creeper hole as his husband placed a berry bush on top of it. He leaned over the two teenagers both looking absolutely beat from the work they’d done today. Tommy set his hands next to the pair who climbed on quickly, ready to fulfill their end of the deal if it meant having a quiet warm place to sleep.

The giant lifted them up slowly before opening his mouth and gently sliding them in, quickly noticing how cold his friends felt against his tongue. All the more reason to get them to warmth quicker. Tommy tilted his head back slowly, resting his fingers against his throat as he felt both hybrids slip down his esophagus. He followed their path down to his stomach after they fell past his collarbones, hyper aware of their place in his chest because of the shiver the two freezing teenagers sent down his spine. When they finally reached his stomach they laid back and fell asleep almost immediately, Tommy feeling the light movement of the rise and fall of their chests against his stomach walls and hearing their soft snores echo slightly throughout his belly.

He smiled as he began to slowly make his way home, careful not to sway or wake his friends as he enjoyed the soft sway of their weight on his way home. When he finally got home he climbed into his bed as carefully as he could manage, tucking his knees to his chest in an attempt to curl around his friends. He fell asleep with a hand resting over his stomach in a protective manner, a smile on his face, though he knew he’d deny it in the morning. All he knew now though was how lucky he was to have friends like this. And unbeknownst to him, Tubbo and Ranboo fell asleep thinking the same exact thing.

————————-

Tommy walked down the hallways of his family’s house as quietly as he could, quickly sweeping around every corner in a desperate attempt to notice any small movements out of the corner of his eye. His family had this sort of weekly tradition of hide-and-seek, but with a twist most other families can’t manage. Part of the fun of having a family of sizeshifters: hide and seek becomes a lot more interesting. At least, if you’re the seeker. Tommy had never been good at hiding: he currently had a streak of about 7 weeks being the first one caught. Not that he was complaining, it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing to be caught first. It meant more room to himself before whoever was seeking that night found the other two, with the unfortunate side effect of also being made fun of by his older brothers for being caught first. But tonight was different: he was the seeker. He was gonna win.

All of a sudden, he saw something flying out of the corner of his eye. He sprung into action as he ran to grab it out of the air before it could get to a different hiding spot, almost falling over as he grabbed it and lost his balance. He opened his palm to see his father; no surprise there, he was the only one who could fly. But he was also usually the last found, his wings giving him the hiding advantage. And Tommy caught him first. Tommy gave the smaller man a smug grin as Phil sat up slowly in his sons hand, the sudden grab out of their air making him dizzy. When he looked up at his sons stupid, shit-eating grin, he flipped him off and laid back in his hand, making his son burst into laughter at the gesture.

Tommy took this as a sign of begrudging readiness as he slipped Phil into his mouth, quickly swallowing the smaller hybrid as he started to look for his oldest brother, knowing that if this was where Phil hid, Techno would be around here, too.

“Techno...” Tommy called out as soon as Phil dropped into his stomach, allowing him to speak again. “Come on out, I don’t bite...”

He continued to tease him for a few minutes longer, probably not doing a great job as he was somewhat distracted by the weight in his gut, when he saw a quick blur of pink top of the fridge.

Tommy moved slowly towards the fridge. There wasn’t a fast enough way down from there, Techno must’ve thought he hadn’t been paying attention. In an instant, Tommy jumped up and grabbed Techno off the fridge and put him in his mouth, effectively capturing his brother while simultaneously scaring the shit out of him if the yelp he let out was any evidence. He could hear his fathers laughter as he swallowed the piglin, who struggled all the way down and began to half-heartedly punch at Tommy’s stomach walls in a playful manner once he fell into the organ. Tommy resisted laughing and instead poked his midsection where he could feel Techno, and in turn felt it when he knocked Techno over. He ignored the harder laughter from his father and string of curse words Techno threw at him as he started to look for Wilbur.

2 down, 1 to go. He went through the living room, bathrooms, and bedrooms with no sign of the tiny until he eventually stopped in the kitchen. He had to be in here.

And he was, Tommy noticed surprisingly quickly. Wilbur was simply out in the open, standing behind the faucet to the sink, leaning one of the knobs. It probably would have seemed suspicious to anyone that wasn’t Tommy. So he walked up to Wilbur who stared him down with a smug confidence no one who was about to get eaten should have, whether or not they knew it was safe. It wasn’t until Tommy reached for Wil that he understood why he had the level of confidence.

As soon as he hand was close enough, Wilbur shifted his weight on the knob so it turned the sink on, the rubber band around the sink’s alternate shower head turning it on, spraying Tommy with water as he yelled in surprise. Wilbur watched from behind the sink, laughing to himself as Tommy desperately tried to turn the hose off without spraying himself in the eyes.

He eventually managed to turn the sink off, and Wilbur couldn’t help but laugh at the death glare Tommy gave him in return. The tiny was lifted up to Tommy’s eye level by the back of his shirt, still looking not at all concerned. “You little shit, you’re drying all this off when I let you out.”

Wilbur shrugged as Tommy sighed in annoyance, lifted the tiny higher and dropping him into his mouth, even using his teeth to slightly chew on his brother. He hadn’t gotten to taste the other two because of the rush he had put himself through trying to find them all quickly, so he let himself enjoys Wil’s taste as he made his was back to his room. Wil didn’t care, either. He knew that Tommy wouldn’t hurt him, and he knew he’d probably be messed with a little extra due to his prank, but he didn’t care, Tommy’s face had been priceless.

Tommy eventually relented to sending Wilbur down to be with the rest of his family as he sat down on his bed, scrolling through Twitter as he rubbed at his belly, faintly hearing Wilbur tell a very confused Techno and Phil why it took Tommy so long to catch him. Tommy continued to absentmindedly scroll through his phone as he joined his family’s conversation, all of them teasing and joking with each other as Tommy started to boast at being the best seeker in the house. He got light kicks and shoves in return for this, but none of them were hostile. After all, they’d all been on Tommy’s current side of the game before, they all knew how good it felt. And Tommy knew from his experience how good rubs from the outside where, too, so he happily indulged his family as well. And Tommy knew that after he let them out tomorrow there’d be another round with a new seeker next week, and he’d have to wait a while to be the bigger person in the game again, so he savored his time with his family inside him. But on the other hand, if memory served him correctly, it was Wilbur’s turn to be the seeker next week. And boy did Tommy have some ideas on how to get back at his brother.

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 4

Masterlist

Thank you as always to my best friend and Beta reader @acollectionofficsandshit​ for putting up with me and my ramblings ♥

Word Count: 3.8k

Recommended song: "ily (I love you baby)" by Surf Mesa and Emilee

You'd never been more thankful that you kept a change of clothes in your car than you were after the race at Silverstone. You'd showered again, changing back into the sweaty tee and leggings. The clean emergency hoodie and jeans were a blessing, and casual enough for a night on the town.

Most of the crew had left, only a few poor souls pouring over race data or packing up essentials. James let you into the trailer yard this time without hesitation. "We really should just get you a key," He teases, "Sure would make my life easier."

Rolling your eyes, you give the tower of muscle a pitiful shove. He doesn't move an inch. "Thanks James. I'll ask Pierre to look into it."

A sudden wave of tiredness washes over you when you make it back to the trailer. You flip through the channels on the tiny television, settling on an analysis of the day’s race.

“And a brilliant drive from young Pierre Gasly, wasn’t it John?”

“I completely agree Martin. Gasly took advantage of every slip up by Mercedes and Red Bull and he has to be commended for that. Max made some rare mistakes and…”

You smile to yourself, their praise washing over you. Yawning, you curl up on Pierre's bed, the familiar smell of cedar lulling you into a light sleep in minutes.

**********

A gentle touch to your cheek wakes you some hours later. You crack your eyes open, greeted by a smile brighter than the stars in the night sky. You taste eternal sunshine on his lips when you kiss him, your soul sparking in response to his light.

"Good morning," He murmurs, thumb rubbing along your jaw. "Sleep well?"

You snuggle closer to him, eyes closing once more as you soak up the warmth. "Is it time to go out already?"

"It is. But we can stay here if you want to." He brushes a stray hair off your face. The gesture is so tender, if you didn’t know any better you’d never guess he could turn into the seasoned, take-no-shit racer you’d seen hours before. 

You shake your head. You couldn't let him miss out on celebrating his victory with his closest friends. Besides, you hadn't seen any of them for a span of time longer than a few minutes in months, and truth be told, you missed them all. 

Those boys had a knack for turning the simplest of outings into unforgettable adventures. You had been sworn to secrecy on numerous occasions after Pierre recounted drunken escapades that usually ended with Max sleeping somewhere preposterous, like a claw-footed bathtub in a fancy suite.

“Where are we going?” You ask sleepily. “Somewhere nearby?”

Pierre tugs you up until you’re sitting. He pulls you back against his chest, arms wrapping around you as he sets his chin on your shoulder. “Yeah. Maybe ten minutes away.”

You lean your full weight against him, admiring how perfectly your bodies slot together. “Can I leave my car here?”

“As long as you’re okay with it staying here until tomorrow, that’s fine.” He coaxes you to stand and presses a kiss to your temple as a reward. Your limbs are still heavy and uncooperative. Pierre winds an arm around your waist, supporting you and assuming the position of your rock as he always did.

"You don't sleep here," You state simply, looking at him for confirmation. He shakes his head.

"Wouldn't be enough room for two anyway." He gestures to the tiny twin sized bed and shrugs.

Your brow furrows. “Am I staying with you tonight?” You honestly had not considered it. The jet usually left early and you had assumed he would want to get as much rest as possible. But now that you had experienced waking up next to him, you realize how much you want his face to be the first thing you see when you open your eyes each morning.

“Of course you’re staying with me. I’m taking every second of your time that I can get.”

You bite your lip and lay your head on his shoulder. The idea of falling asleep in his arms was enough to shake any lingering sleepiness. “Okay.” Confident that you could hold yourself up, you step out of his grasp. “Ready.”

The few mechanics roaming about the grounds are enough to keep you cautious. You walk through the paddock a hair's breadth apart, although every nerve screams for you to touch him. Every time your arm grazes his, electricity ripples across your skin. All you want to do is hold his hand, but there’s enough prying eyes that you restrain the impulse.

You can tell he feels it too by the way his fingers curl and uncurl at his sides. And he's biting his cheek, you notice. A nervous habit of his and a clear indicator that he'd retreated inside his own head, likely contemplating if he'd truly deserved to win today or not.

Every few months his doubts crept in, the devil on his shoulder reminding him that Horner hadn't deemed him good enough to keep his seat at Red Bull after only a handful of races.

You'll never be as talented as them, is what you'd imagined it whispered. They're only here because they pity you. What makes you think you deserve a seat?

It couldn't be farther from the truth. Deep down, Pierre knew that. Driving in Formula 1 meant being under constant scrutiny from the public and sportscasters. Making an error meant debates about whether you were good enough and rumors about seat security.

There were no such errors today. You'd heard the commentary after the race; everyone was raving about his performance. Not one person had dared say he didn't deserve it.

Not wanting him to suffer alone, you subtly wrap your pinky finger around his. "You're okay," You say softly, his head whipping to you. "You deserved that trophy today. It was some of the best driving I've ever seen, everyone agrees. You deserve a trophy every time you get in that car. You'll always be my champion, even if the world tells you otherwise."

It takes a moment for it to sink in, but he nods and releases your pinkie. "You're my grounding rod," He says, lips curling in a knowing smile, and you can't hold back your laugh.

"Leave it to you to turn a romantic moment into a cheesy one." Instead of saying you're my rock like any normal person, he had to bring up the time you'd embarrassed yourself at the bar a year or so ago. He'd let you prattle on to poor Dan about building grounding rods of all things, and how you'd thought your professor's way of designing such a system was flawed. Pierre would never let you live that down, it seemed.

Max spots the two of you first, waving from where the boys had gathered outside Red Bull. “About time you showed up! We’ve been waiting for ten minutes!”

“She fell asleep,” Pierre says simply, his confidence back. “Takes her awhile to wake up.”

“Whatever, I’m just glad you’re here,” Daniel says, throwing an arm around your shoulders and tucking you tight to his side. You couldn’t help the broad smile creeping onto your face, twin to the aussie’s as you hug him back. 

“We missed you,” Charles says, falling into step beside you. “I never hear from you anymore!”

You grimace. It was true, while the three boys had texted you quite frequently the past few months, you had barely responded to them. You felt guilty about it, knowing they were taking time out of their packed schedules to catch up. But uni had been kicking your ass and the only one you’d found time for was Pierre. Looking back, you were glad he had been the exception.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” You say. “Lots of projects.”

“And that new internship,” Max points out. Your eyebrows flick up, gaze flicking to Pierre. You had been awarded an internship a month or so ago at a local engineering firm in London. It was only part time work, a few hours a week, but it was enough. The only one you had told was Pierre.

Pierre grins, the gesture a silent apology. “I may have spilled the beans.” 

You cut him a glare, the others laughing at your attempt at being intimidating. But you couldn’t turn away from him, not when he was looking at you with the same pride you had felt when he’d won earlier that day. 

“Uber’s here,” Charles announces, checking his phone.

“Where?” Daniel asks, and Charles indicates a black SUV parked at the curb. Daniel and Max exchange a look, shouting “Shotgun!” at the same time. Both boys break into a full sprint, feet pounding on the pavement. Daniel wins - barely, leaving Max and Charles to squeeze into the back seat.

Pierre follows you into the third row of seats, his hand immediately engulfing yours. Your stomach flips, glancing up to find a reassuring smile on his face. You could barely focus on what was said for the first half of the ride, hyperaware of the callouses rubbing your skin. The world around you erupts into color at the touch, completing the part of you that you’d never realized was missing. 

The remainder of the drive is filled with laughter, jokes, and plenty of selfies with the driver. It wasn’t every day one could brag about having four world class drivers in your car; you couldn’t blame the man for being excited.

By the time you arrive at the bar, your sides are already splitting with laughter. “First round is on you, Ricciardo,” Charles says, wagging a finger at him. “Punishment for bringing up the Abu Dhabi incident again!”

“Jokes on you, I was already planning on it!” He glances at you and winks. “Gotta congratulate the winner somehow, right?” Little did the Australian know, you had already congratulated Pierre a few hours ago, and you doubted that a few shots would outshine that performance. You hope the pink tinge that rises to your cheeks with the memory isn't obvious and you duck your head just in case.

A blast of air conditioning hits you as you all stumble into the bar. All eyes fell to you and the ragtag group of drivers when you entered, silence blanketing the patrons. The bartender slams a fist on the wooden bartop, rattling glasses and making you flinch.

“Been wonderin’ when you lot were gonna show your ugly mugs!”

Daniel, Max and Charles erupt into friendly laughter, shaking the man’s hand and making small talk. You look to Pierre for an explanation.

“Tradition,” He murmurs. The noise returned to a normal level around you, though you could feel the glances thrown your way. “We come here every year, but only if one of us wins at Silverstone. Been awhile since that happened.”

"Ah," You say, nodding dramatically. "Yes, very long time." Pierre grins, shaking his head.

"Who won this year?" The man - William, Pierre informs you- asks. He towered over you when you sat on the sticky bar stool, tall and lanky but well muscled and certainly not someone you would expect patrons to try disrespecting. He was already pouring five shots of a fine Irish Whiskey, waving Daniel off when he tried to start a tab. “My treat.”

Max claps a hand on Pierre's shoulder. "This one claimed the crown, for once!"

"Wey hey!" William says, passing out the shots. "Everyone else crash out or what?"

"You should watch the replay," You say, knocking Pierre's shoulder with your own. "It was amazing. The move he used to get past Max-" you bring your pinched fingers to your lips in a chef's kiss. "Gorgeous."

"Much to Max's despair," Charles adds, raising his shot. "To the underdog!"

You all echo the sentiment, the boys knocking back the strong alcohol with practiced ease. It didn't go down as smooth for you, burning your throat and making you wince.

Daniel laughs. "Not used to drinking with us anymore, huh?"

"Must have lost my edge," You say, the woody taste lingering in your mouth. "I'm sure it'll hit me hard in a half hour or so, too."

**********

Well, you weren't wrong about the alcohol hitting you like a punch to the gut. Two shots later and you were swaying like a sailor on his first excursion out to sea, Pierre's shoulder the only thing keeping you from toppling off the bar stool. 

Pierre's eyes were bright as the others poked fun at him, William joining in with a witty remark now and then. His laugh wrapped around you like a warm blanket, keeping you content and grounded.

"Hey Pierre," Daniel says at one point, "Don't look now but that table of girls has been obsessed with you all night."

Pierre, blitzed as he was, pays no attention to Dan's warning and turns around. A loopy grin was plastered on his face, turning back and shaking his head.

You may not have been able to think straight, but your stomach lurches. Instantly sobering slightly, you follow Dan's gaze to the indicated table to your left. Three beautiful women sat there, whispering behind their hands and clearly speaking about Pierre. One bit her lip and caught your eye, giggling. Her looks were universally attractive enough that she would be anyone’s type, Pierre included. The possessiveness in the gaze she raked over his body set your blood boiling. 

This… was not a scenario you wanted to play out. You didn't know if Pierre was ready to tell his friends about your relationship yet. You knew he wouldn't let any of those girls have the light of day, but he might let them fawn over him a little, just to protect your secret. And it would kill you, but you would have no choice but to let it happen.

"I'm good," Pierre says, sipping the beer he had been nursing all night.

"Come on mate," Max pushes, a wicked grin on his flushed face, "That blonde is so your type."

No she isn't.

You’re already staring up at Pierre when he turns to you. You have always worn your emotions on your sleeve for anyone to see, and it only got worse when mixed with alcohol. Pierre smiles softly, taking mercy on you. Slowly, he takes your hand and threads your fingers together before turning back to the boys.

"One of you can tell them I’m not interested. I already have my girl." 

Heart beating wildly, you scan your friends faces. They were all wide eyed and slack jawed, staring at your joined hands. Pierre gives your hand a gentle squeeze, reminding you to breathe. He read you like an open book, offering reassurance when you needed it most.

"It's about fucking time!" Daniel roars, breaking the tense silence. Your shoulders relax, grinning along with the others. Pierre beams at you, knocking your shoulder to say I told you so. 

"Does this mean I get a break from listening to you obsess over her every weekend?" Max asks, giving you a meaningful look. 

"Likely not," Pierre answers. "I'm still just as obsessed as before. Maybe more." Max pretends to gag, earning him a playful punch from Charles. God, it was so freeing for your relationship to be more open, even if it was just between your closest friends. 

"I'd just like to point out that I told you two this would happen years ago," Charles says matter of factly, pointing at Max and Dan. "Should've taken you up on that bet."

Your mouth hung open. "You were going to bet on us being a couple?"

"Oh come on," Max says, rolling his eyes. "We all knew it was coming eventually. We just didn't know when!"

Pink stains your cheeks, but Pierre laughs and leans in to kiss you. Remembering the girls behind you, you press a little closer to him. Under the guise of placing a kiss to his cheek, you meet the blonde's eyes and smile sweetly.

The woman preens, mouth twisting. Good. Pierre was yours, and now that he'd admitted it, you could let those girls know it. His hand slips to your thigh, squeezing hard. A clear warning that you were venturing into dangerous territory. You didn't care.

The alcohol in your veins makes you bold, and you want to drive your point home. They could look all they wanted, but he was coming home with you. You push the boundary farther and bite the soft skin of his neck just hard enough to leave a mark. Pierre's hiss finally makes you pull back and look up at him innocently.

"Get a room," Daniel teases with a wink. You smile at him, mumbling an insincere apology. Your point had been made. The arrogant smirk had been wiped from the woman’s face, replaced with a grimace. 

"I think it is time for us to get going," Pierre says, annoyance flashing across his face. Oh, you had stoked the fire and now you would have to face the consequences. 

"We're just getting started," Charles complains. Pierre slaps a few bills on the counter and gets up without responding. 

"Bye guys!" You call over your shoulder as Pierre drags you towards the door. They all wave back, Max's lower lip jutting out in a pout. Your eyes slid one more time to the blonde, who had her arms crossed over her chest. You give her a wicked, taunting grin and return her earlier wink.

Pierre halts so quickly that you run into him. “Why are we leaving?”

“You know why,” He growls, flagging down a cab. “You didn't like how she was looking at me, so you did something about it. You might not have noticed, but every man in that bar had their eyes on you. So I’m following your example and doing something about it.”

Your brow furrows. Pierre won’t meet your gaze, and your eyes fall to the purple mark on his neck. You didn’t like his tone; it bordered dangerously on anger. “Are you… Are you mad that I did that?”

Tears threaten to spill when he finally looks at you. God, you were a blubbering drunk.  When your lip wobbles, his anger fades and he sighs. “I’m not mad. I just… I didn’t think you’d want me flaunting our relationship yet. When you did this-” He gestures to his neck- “I could barely keep my hands off you. Not when I saw the guy walking up to you.”

You sniff, trying to conjure the image of the bar. “I didn’t notice anyone.”

“Yeah, cause I dragged you out here before he could say anything.” Pierre pulls his hood up and sighs. “Trying to catch a cab here is harder than overtaking Hamilton.”

You laugh harder than you should at the off-hand remark, following after him as he trudges down the sidewalk. “Why are you not drunk? I feel like you should be drunk. You won a race. They were feeding you shots one after another.”

“One of us had to be responsible and make sure we got home okay.” He smiles over his shoulder at you. “And I knew as soon as you had that first shot it would have to be me. Didn’t you notice me handing the shots to the other guys?”

“No,” You say, rubbing your eyes. “What about the boys? How are they gonna get home?” Pierre stops, forcing you to do the same. He tugs your hood up, makes sure his is secure enough to hide his face, and grabs your hand.

“I already told Seb to come round them up in an hour or so. They’ll be fine.”

You don’t respond, too busy trying to put one foot in front of the other and not fall on your face. It doesn’t help that your vision is a tad blurry. Finally you give up and whine, “How much further?”

“It’s right there,” He says, pointing at a towering glass building just across the street. “In five minutes, you can be tucked into a cozy, fluffy suite and you can rest all you want, my love.”

You hum at the words, warmth flooding your veins from more than the liquor. “I like that.”

“What, the building?” He asks, amused. He helps you cross the empty street, making sure you’re paying attention to where you’re going.

“Noooo, what you said,” You clarify, leaning on him as you try to navigate the handful of steps leading to the hotel.

He’s quiet until you reach the elevator. “My love,” He murmurs, and you grin up at him.

“Mon… mon coeur,” You manage to say, somehow pulling the French phrase out of the dregs of your memory. The words are slurred and you know that you absolutely botch the pronunciation, but the intent is clear. You may have lived in France since you were 18, but learning the language wasn’t a requirement when almost everyone knew english as well. But the two of you had spent many hours watching Pierre’s favorite french films over the years; some of it must have unintentionally rubbed off on you.

A disbelieving smile tugs at his lips. “How do you even know what that means?”

You shrug. “Just do.” The elevator doors open and you step out, Pierre following. You halt, not knowing which hall to take. You glance up at your companion for help, only to find him staring back at you. “What?”

He shakes his head and leads you down the corridor to his room. It's a spacious corner suite, with huge windows facing Silverstone that give him a perfect view of the track. You make for the window but Pierre’s hand on your wrist stops you.

“I don’t think so, it’s time for you to sleep.”

“But I just wanna see,” You protest weakly.

“Nice try. I know you. You’ll sit in front of that window for hours if I let you.”

You give in only because he was right. Cityscapes of any kind drew your attention like a moth to a flame. You pouted anyway, but let him take you to the bedroom. Gentle pressure on your shoulders had you sinking into the plush mattress, groaning at the luxurious softness. Pierre laughs as he helps you out of your shoes and jeans, leaving the hoodie.

Eyelids drooping, you climb under the covers Pierre had pulled back for you. He tucks you in and kisses your temple. You grab for him, tugging on his shirt until he stoops down and gives you a proper kiss. When he steps out of your grasp, you panic.

“Stay,” You mumble, fear bubbling in your chest. He had to stay, he couldn’t leave, not when you only had this one night left-

“I’m just taking off my shoes,” He assures you, his weight sliding in behind you to settle against your back. You sigh, moulding yourself to him as best you could. Being in his arms was somehow familiar, even if he’d never held you like this. It felt like home.

“Pierre?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

Pillowy soft lips press to the nape of your neck. “I love you too, mon coeur.”

Tagging: @flashcal

[zodiakuroo]

yandere boyfie kenma

here’s a poorly written piece detailing one of the terrible fantasies i use to help get me through university featuring kenma and gn!reader

warnings: 18+, mentions of drug use (weed), drugging, manipulation, gaslighting, yandere themes, reader kind of has a panic attack?

ok but like.... dating kenma, at first he’s not exactly neglectful but just.... distant? typical introvert things you know

but as time goes on he gets used to your presence and starts to miss you when you’re not around

you spend every weekend at his place and just take such good care of him like cutting up fruits for him, bringing him snacks and water during his streams and even sucking him off when he’s getting really frustrated

he wants you there all the time but every time he mentions the idea of you moving in with him you shut it down immediately

it’s not that you don’t love him, you say, it’s just a big step that you’re not exactly ready to take yet. so every sunday it’s the same spiel...

“just stay one more night baby please.” he pouts

“kenma i can’t i have work tomorrow.” “I promised my friends we’d have brunch tomorrow.” “i have an early lecture”  you try to reason with him. there’s always something and usually he doesn’t press you any further but he’s tired of this 

he doesn’t appreciate having to share you with your job or school or friends, he can’t understand why he isn’t enough for you

he hates that it’s come to this, it makes him feel like an absolute creep but seeing as you refuse to even consider his perspective, you leave him no choice

so one sunday morning he surprises you with breakfast in bed with an extra little surprise mixed into your coffee

he scored the little baggie of white pills from his plug, not even bothering to ask what they were called but the dealer assured him that this shit would help you “chill the fuck out”

and half an hour later you’re all soft and giggly and totally spaced out- exactly as promised... your head in your boyfriend’s lap while he plays with your hair, body feeling heavy and warm all over

you look up at him, pupils dilated and dopey grin on your face, he can tell that he’s the only thing on your mind right now, no other thoughts in that pretty little head... yeah he could get used to this...

you wake up the next day, just past midday, brain filled with fog, not really remembering anything from the day before.

you freak out when you check your phone to see it filled with texts, from your friends asking why you weren’t in class, and a single email from your professor because you missed the deadline for huge assignment and are now at risk of failing the module

despite your aching, spinning head, you practically leap out of bed. your stomach is churning and you’re fighting to urge to throw up but manage to stumble into the living room, hoping your boyfriend can help you make sense of the situation 

aside from the amnesia, you feel positively awful, kind of like a hangover but so much more visceral

you’re absolutely freaking out when you find kenma, sat in front of the tv, laser focused on the game he’s playing but the sounds of your hysterical crying and hyperventilating grab his attention

he immediately pauses and makes his way over to you, cupping both your cheeks in his soft hands, wiping your tears away with gentle strokes of his thumbs, hushing and cooing at you like one would a child

you try and ask him what happened last night but he can’t really make out anything through the sobs and hiccups

he guides you over to the couch, sitting you down next to him and takes deep breaths with you to help you find your bearings before asking what’s the matter

feeling slightly more grounded, you start to explain how you overslept (even though you didn’t plan on spending the night again), woke up with no memory of what happened yesterday and how you missed your deadline

his face is stoic as always, easily feigning surprise and innocence but he can’t help the pang of guilt he feels when he sees how genuinely distraught you are over this, he didn’t mean to upset you... he just wanted a little more time with you

still he tells you in a sympathetic voice to calm down and that everything will be okay.

he tells you the lie he had come up with beforehand.... that yesterday when he offered to drive you home, you asked him to smoke just one bowl with him and then you’d call an uber instead

but one bowl turned into two and before either of you knew it, you were both too stoned to even move

he assures you that if he had known you had things today, he would have woken you up on time and even reminded you about your submission that night but you didn’t tell him so he let you sleep

he wanted you to chill out and rest up because god knows you deserve it, really he was just trying to be a good boyfriend

“baby relax. we can fix this.” tells you. it’s really no big deal. you can get yourself an extension, he’ll even help you but first you need to relax or else you won’t be able to think straight, all this stress isn’t good for you 

he tells you breathe, even guiding you in to a slow, deep rhythm before disappearing into the kitchen to make you a lovely, soothing cup of tea that should help ease your nerves

he crushes up another one of those special little pills into your tea cup smirking to himself as he watches the white powder vanish into nothing

he hands you the tea in exchange for your phone, telling you to calm down while he drafts an apology email to your professor, pleading for an extension

in reality he’s doing nothing of the sort. he’s actually texting your friends, telling them that you’re fine and to leave you alone for the rest of the day (the last thing he wants is them blowing up his phone cause they can’t get a hold of you)

you’re so grateful, you tell him with tears in your eyes “i don’t know what i’d do without you” as you sip down the warm, comforting tea, feeling calm wash over you

he simply smiles and says “you don’t have to worry about anything. ‘m always gonna take care of you.” and before long you’re nice and relaxed like he promised you would be

you’re curled up in his lap, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie while he plays his game, not a care in the world

it’s then that he decides it’s for the best if he just keeps you like this, nice and drugged up for him so you’ll never want to leave

[soniaxdixon]

New Girl

Okay so I actually started writing this one based off of a prompt but got way to invested so ended up turning into a one shot.

Words count: 2470

Summary: Reader has been in love with Daryl from the beginning but never told him so when he comes back to the prison injured and with a new girl by his side, her heart shatters.

Warnings: Swearing, some gore, angst and fluff.

You paced the gates of the prison, impaling the heads of walkers that stalked the living on the inside. Worry swelled in the pits of your stomach as you waited for the familiar sound of his bike, but they didn’t come.

You made your way up to the prison for dinner, grabbing a bowl from Carol and sitting next to Rick.

“He’s not back yet?” Worry obviously etched his face too.

“No. Rick it’s almost been a week. He’s never gone this long.”

“If he’s not back by tomorrow we’ll head out and find him, okay?”

“Okay.”

Seconds later the doors busted open, Glenn ran in. “Where’s Hershel? We need Hershel!” Both you and Rick shot up from your seats and ran over to Glenn.

“I’ll go get him.” Rick ran off in search of the old man

“What’s happening?” You searched Glenn’s face for a sign of anything, he looked into your eyes.

“It’s Daryl.”

“Where is he?”

“Infirmary.”

The pit in your stomach grew as you pushed passed Glenn and ran towards the infirmary. Your stomach dropped when you saw him laying still on the table, blood soaked beneath him, dripping down onto the floor.

“Oh my God.” Your voice was barely audible. Your feet felt cemented to the ground, you couldn’t move.

“Excuse me.” A girl pushed passed you, sitting next to Daryl’s bed and grabbed his hand.

“Who are you?” You found your voice and walked to stand next to Daryl on the opposite side. You ran your hand threw his hair and the girl shot you a look that sent shivers down your spine.

“I’m Bella. Daryl found me a few days back.”

Your eyes were locked where she held his hand and your heart felt like it was being squeezed. You took a step back from his body.

Rick and Glenn suddenly burst into the room with Hershel following behind them

“What happened?” Rick’s voice was barely below yelling, obviously panicking as his best friend laid still on the table.

“He found me in the woods, saved me from a group of walkers. We found a cabin and he took care of me there for a few days.” She looked at you suddenly, “nursed me back to health, kept me warm.” Your brain was frazzled as you tried to piece together what she was saying. “When I felt better we started to make our way back here but we were pinned by another herd. A few pushed Daryl up against a wall and he was impaled on a pipe. I found a car and got us here as quickly as possible. Please tell me you can save him.”

“I can.” Hershel was examining Daryl’s body while she spoke. “But I need space. Rick, Glenn, you stay, y/n, take Bella to get a plate of food, she seems quite shaken.”

You glanced at Daryl one more time before guiding the new girl out of the room and towards the kitchen.

You suddenly spoke “Where’s his bike?”

“What?”

“His bike, where is it?”

“Oh, um, I guess it’s still back at the cabin.”

You went up to your cell and shuffled through your things, pulling out a map and a marker and walking back towards Bella.

“Show me where it is. Can I walk there?”

She looked at you in disbelief. “It’s just a bike.”

“Just show me where.” Your tone was harsh. You didn’t understand why but you grew frustrated with her very quickly, like your fuse was cut short and the slightest thing she did would set you off.

She grabbed the marker from your hand and circled a space in the woods about 5 miles out.

You grabbed the map and marker from her and walked over to Carol. “This is Bella, she needs something to eat.” You stormed up the prison stairs and pulled the curtain over your cell as you packed your bag for your trip the next day.

The next morning, you woke early and got dressed quickly. You scurried down the stairs with your bag on your back. You walked hastily over to the infirmary slowing your pace as you got closer, walking in quietly. His breathing had steadied and you sat next to him for a few minutes.

“Daryl. It’s y/n. I don’t know if you can hear me but I’m gonna talk anyway.” You searched his face for any signs that he was listening but he showed none.  “I was so worried about you, I thought I was going to lose you and I think that made me realise that I care about you a lot more than I thought I did. Daryl please be okay. I need you to wake up. I need you to know how much I lo-”

You heard someone coming towards the infirmary and you stood up suddenly from your seat, wiping the tears you didn’t realise had fallen and placing the most gentle kiss on Daryl’s forehead. As you went to walk away you saw the figure who was walking into the infirmary. Bella squeezed past you without saying a word, sitting in the seat you were in just moments ago and entangling her fingers with Daryl’s. The sight sent you into overdrive as you stormed away, down towards the gates of the prison. Maggie was on watch as you walked down towards her.

“Hey, where are you going?” She stepped in front of you.

“To find Daryl’s bike.”

“Alone?”

“I’ll be fine, that girl Bella circled where they stayed and it's only about 5 miles out.”

“Show me, just so I know where to find you if you’re not back soon.”

You pulled out the map and showed Maggie. She pulled you into a hug, releasing you soon after and opening the gate. Your hand remained fixed on your knife as you began your trek towards the cabin. It took you a couple of hours but you found the place she had circled. You made your way inside, scouting the place for anything you could take home. Daryl’s crossbow laid on the table, you swung it over your shoulder as you thought about the time he had taught you to use it.

——

“Okay now put your foot here to hold the bow down and pull the string back. Put the bolt here and-”

“Daryl, I got it. I know what to do.”

“Yeah alright Hawkeye, show me what ya got.”

You aimed the crossbow at the makeshift target that Daryl had set up, you took a deep breath and readied yourself for the kickback. You squeezed the trigger as the bolt flew threw the air and pierced the centre of the target.  “Oh my God, did you see that!?” You jumped for joy before placing the crossbow on the floor and running to stand next to the target. Pointing at it with the look of awe on your face.

“Yeah yeah, I saw it. It’s cause ya had a good teacher.” He said, walking over to the target and pulling the bolt out. “Do it 1000 more times, then I’ll trust ya with my crossbow.”

You could see the visible smirk on his face. “Next you have to teach me how to ride your bike.”

——

You smiled at the memory, it felt like a lifetime ago. You secured the crossbow on your shoulder as you continued to search the house, scooping everything you needed into your bag before walking out the front door and looking for Daryl’s bike. You found where he had leaned it near the side of the house. You swung your right leg over and pulled it into the upright position. Gripping the right hand brake you kicked up the stand and started the engine. Rolling it forwards a bit until you were steady enough to begin riding, just like Daryl had taught you.

Maggie heard the bike as she ran down to the gate. “She’s back!” She yelled out to the rest of your group. Everyone started walking down to greet you, including Daryl who had managed to wake up and stand. Bella gripped tightly to his arm. The sight of you on his bike sent his mind whirling. You were so beautiful. You rode through the gate and up a bit to where your group was standing. You turned the bike off and pushed the kick stand down, climbing off it as you locked eyes with Daryl.

“Thank god you’re okay.” You threw your arms around Daryl’s neck pulling him into a hug, he pulled his arm away from Bella and wrapped them both around you, gently but enough that you could feel him holding you. You pulled away suddenly and began searching his body. “What are you doing up, you should still be resting? Come on, get back to bed.”

“y/n I’m fine. When I woke up Rick came and told me that ya went to look for my bike.”

“I had to hold him down when he found out you had gone alone.” Rick said smiling at the two of you.

Daryl chuckled at the thought. “Bella calmed me down but when I heard Maggie yell out I had to come and see ya.”

He obviously hadn’t heard when you spoke to him this morning, but that could have been a good thing. “I was so worried about you, D.”

“Yeah well then you went and made me worry about ya.”

“I brought your bike back didn’t I, both me and the bike still in one piece clearly.” You motioned towards yourself and the bike.

“Thanks.”

“I know how much the bike means to you…Oh and I found this.” You pulled the crossbow off your shoulder and handed it to him but Bella reached out and pulled it over her shoulder.

“I’ll hold onto this until you’re better, you gotta teach me how to shoot it remember.”

Your stomach twisted in knots as your walls came crashing back down.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” You spoke barely above a whisper and rolled your eyes. You pushed passed Bella making sure to bump her slightly on your way up to the prison. Rick chased after you, noticing your sudden mood change.

“y/n, y/n wait!”

You finally stopped when you got inside the main cell block. “What, Rick?”

“Are you okay? What was that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You turned to face him.

“Your little outburst back there.”

“That was hardly an outburst, Rick.”

“Yeah well you seem pretty hostile towards Bella.”

“We don’t know a thing about her and now she’s sleeping under the same roof as us, already making plans for Daryl to teach her how to use the crossbow. Are you kidding me?”

“Daryl says he trusts her.”

“Yeah well I’m sure he does. I wonder how many times he’s fucked her already.”

“Y/n where the hell is this coming from!?”

“I’ve been in love with him for as long as I can remember Rick, and not once has he looked at me the way he looks at her and that hurts so much because I’m the one who constantly puts my life on the line for him. I’m the one who takes care of him when he’s hurt. I’m the one who knows how to stop his nightmares. I’m the one who loves him. Not her.” Tears were steadily flowing down your face as you finally broke eye contact with Rick.

“Tell him.”

“What?”

“Tell. Him. Because you know what. He doesn’t look at you that way, no, he has a look that is set aside specifically for you. It looks like he is seeing stars when he looks at you, like you are his entire world. That bracelet on your wrist, he almost got ripped apart for that bracelet but because it says your name, he refused to leave without it. The fact that he taught how to ride his bike, how many people does he let even touch the damn thing? His crossbow. Do you really think he’s gonna teach her how to use it. The second you stormed off he ripped it off her shoulder and walked away. You might think he likes her and who knows, maybe he does, but he loves you.”

You stood there frozen as Rick poured everything out into the open. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

With his confession playing over and over again in your head you raced outside the prison, into the yard where you last saw Daryl but he wasn’t there. You ran into the infirmary, he wasn’t there either. Your heart began to race as you looked everywhere for him, running in and out of the cell’s searching for any sign of him until you found him, sitting on your bed.

“Hey.” His voice was quiet.

“Daryl I-”

“Stop.” He stood up off the bed and walked over to you, he pushed away the hair that had fallen in front of your face in your frantic search to find him. “Ya know I’m not good with words, especially the way Rick is, but everything he said, is true.”

You struggled to grasp at the words that were fleeting from your mind.

“How much did you hear?”

“Everything.”

“Does that mean that you heard…”

“I heard everything. I followed you and Rick back up to the prison. I heard what you said. I went to find Bella to tell her that there was nothing between her and I and when I got back to the main cellblock, you had disappeared.”

“Daryl. I tried to tell you this morning, when you were still asleep.”

“I heard that too. I felt you kiss my forehead but I couldn’t move.”

“I was trying to tell you that…” You looked up into his eyes and placed your hand carefully on his chest, above his heart. Taking a deep breath in, you spoke. “Daryl Dixon, I love you.”

He leaned down and closed the space between the two of you, his lips pressed against yours as you melted together. Your hands wrapped around his neck pulling him in closer to you as his hands found your waist.

You finally pulled away slowly, your eyes opening and looking up into his. He looked down bashfully before speaking. “I love you too. Always have and I always will.”

You spent the rest of the day wrapped in each others arms, laying on the bed and talking about everything and anything. Rick came up into your cell to let you know that dinner was ready and at the sight of you entangled with Daryl he let out a hearty laugh.

“I was right, I was so right. You do love each other.”

You just smiled and nodded at him.

[applsauss]

Letters | War-tober #18

Description: “Read it to me?” When you speak your voice cracks with disuse.

Fandom: Band of Brothers


Pairing: Ronald Speirs/Reader

Word Count: 1.9k+

Warning(s): None.

      “We ain’t get any letters for a while now…” O’Keefe breaks the tepid silence without thought, as if he doesn’t spend every moment not filled with gunfire spiraling with dread. 

“Nope,” Perconte says around his toothbrush. 

You squint up at the white sun, then close your eyes and chase the colors dancing behind your eyelids. It is a dull pain that takes the edge off the darker thoughts prowling the corners of your mind. The acrid smelling smoke rising from the cigarette in your right hand fills your nose, and you flick it so the ashes crumble, then are taken by the breeze.

Germany is peaceful. Spring is melting the frigid countryside bit by bit and when the wind picks up, you don’t shiver anymore. It is the type of cold like shade on a summer day, not something bone chilling and desperate--a reminder of the dead.

The birches planted along the road sway while the countryside takes another long breath, their leaves flashing silver under the pale blue sky, and you watch this marvel of nature without comment, utterly still. 

"You think they'll come in soon?" O’Keefe asks. 

“Nope,” Perconte responds again.

"Well, I hope they do," O'Keefe barrels on with an optimistic lilt to his voice. 

This is the final straw for Perconte. He pulls the toothbrush from his mouth and braces his forearm on his knee. "Why? Got a dame back home to get ahold of? O'Reilly?" 

You let out a sharp breath from your nose. No matter how much the replacements bother you, they always seem to drive Perconte the furthest up the wall. Everyone's lost their fuses since Toccoa, the Krauts have gone around the circle with scissors halving them. Discipline helped you survive Sobel, but you've traded that, along with your patience, in for the reflexes and nerves honed only in battle. 

You are not so different that you are unrecognisable as that paratrooper who spent that night of nights praying to god for mercy over the English Channel, but you are changed, like that person you were before was nothing more than a cast, and now the common Easy Company soldier is poured and forged of iron. 

O'Keefe seems to consider Perconte's question, then after a moment he fumbles over his answer. "...Yes?"

Perconte turns sharply towards you. "Now that's a lie if I ever heard one." 

You are tired, the memory of the fear you felt in that flying fortress enough to drag your heart down until it is barely beating. You bring the cigarette dangling loosely from your fingers up to your lips and take a drag to try and calm down. "Leave the kid alone, Perco," you mumble. 

Annoying as he is, O'Keefe is right about one thing. You haven't gotten a letter for a very long time. Not just because they haven't been delivered, though. Nobody's writing anymore--not even your parents. It's not that they don't love you, but you think that they've already finished mourning you. 

Everyone back home, they've made peace with never seeing you again. Whether you die today or live tomorrow, it wouldn't make a difference to them because you'd still be gone. They've moved on, not for any fault of yours or theirs, it's simply been too long since they've seen your face. 

This is just one more thing that drives the wedge between the common Easy Company soldier and replacements deeper. There is this deep, ugly resentment that seizes your heart and fills your mouth when you watch those boys walk around as if they are still loved, while you know in your body that you are not. 

What’s worse than that is that the funny thing the men have been saying is right. Germany is the best you've had it this whole war--better than France, or England or even your own Toccoa. Germany is the closest you've felt to home since you stepped foot on the train that dragged you away from it. 

Perconte clicks his tongue at you, then sticks his toothbrush back into his mouth, the bristles nearly flat from use. "Take that fuckin' thing outta your mouth," you grouse. 

"Not everyone wants to rot their teeth with them cigarettes," he defends halfheartedly. Squabbling is a comfortable pastime you've honed. 

"Perco,” you shoot back, “you're one annoying sunnuvabitch." 

"He's not that bad!" O'Keefe is quick to jump to Perconte's defense, and the sound of his voice makes annoyance pinch in your gut. 

Both you and Perconte round on O’Keefe at the same moment. "Shut up!" 

Nobody shuts up. O'Keefe keeps talking about home like it's down the road, Perco keeps sniping at him, his sharp words flying right over the replacement's head, and you take another drag from your cigarette, then stare down at the mud between your boots. Fuck, you wish you had a letter to read. 

Gravel crunches under foreign feet, and all three of you glance up as Captain Speirs walks past in that dangerous, prowling way he does. He doesn't look at you, but the sight of him churns your stomach--just not in the same way it makes Perco gulp nervously. Everyone in Easy has gotten a little more comfortable around Speirs (Bar Talbert, who tries to compare him to Winters every chance he gets, only to disappoint himself), but the air still changes when he's near. It is the shocking cold feeling of being alert. 

You wait till Speirs disappears from sight, then put your cigarette out in the dirt and pocket it, fed up with your current company. “I’m gonna go sniff around for some food,” you say before standing abruptly and stalking off in the same direction you last saw Speirs. 

---

He's in your thoughts more often than not. 

When you're staring down at the puppy chow the cooks serve you, when you're shivering under your thin blanket watching the stars, when you’re washing your face in a bucket of dirty water, when you're pressed up against your fellow soldier being shelled to bits, more often than not he's in your thoughts. 

Speirs’ face is leagues better than the last one you were stuck on (your neighbor's while he waved you off to war, two years older than you and a college boy, too smart for you anyways).

"Sergeant." You nearly jump out of your skin when Speirs' voice rings out from the dark alley to your left. He steps into the light, emerging from the liquid darkness like he is born from the obscurity. 

You startle for a moment, your hand settled over your stuttering heart, then you close your eyes. "Sir." 

Speirs hums quietly and says your name then, cradles it in his mouth before the affection bleeds through the syllables and your chest expands with warm breath and something else--some emotion entirely too strong for you to name. 

There is a delicateness to his features that seemed foreign until you traced it for the first time with your fingers, learned that he tastes of the same liquor you and your pals pass around the fire. 

Now when you think of Speirs, of that low camber of his voice, of his dark eyes as he watches you, his long eyelashes and the bow of his lips, there is no danger. You are as familiar with him as you are yourself. 

“Ron,” you utter, voice unchecked.

---

In your memories, it is morning. The winter sun is struggling to peak over the horizon and the dawn is a solemn blue-gray, as if it is afraid to break the silence. You are afraid to break the silence as well, as you pull the covers off your naked legs and take in your first breaths of wakefulness. 

The radiators have no such qualms. It is so quiet you can hear the house whispering with each breath it takes, and then they click on all at once and the house is filled with the sound of that comforting rumble, a promise of warmth.

You make your way through the house, bare feet sticking to the cold hardwood floor, and you hear your father in the kitchen, fussing with the coffee pot. There is something sacred in the mundane, in the everyday. This moment in time will live with you forever.

---

You spoon the warm beans into your mouth and close your eyes. Eating this meager dinner feels better than anything ever has before after two days without, but there is an exhaustion that sits right behind your eyes now--always. 

“We’ve got it better here than we’ve had it anywhere else. Isn’t it kind of bullshit?” Luz gripes from beside you. 

You are sitting at the top of the steps of some shop front, leaning against the awning. Luz and Johnny are cramped in beside you, and Cobb, Liebgott, Malarkey and Jancovek are sitting below you. Liebgott is resting his back against your shins, you can feel the warmth of him through your pants and when he shifts, his shoulder blades knock against your knees. 

You don’t pay much attention to anything said after that. The night is turning dark and the silver clouds obscure the stars from sight. Faintly you wonder if the Germans feel the same way you do, or maybe they’re more upset because now they are fighting in their own country. 

“Hey,” Liebgott says suddenly, shifting so your legs move with his weight. “Any of yous got letters to read?” 

The question makes your heart twist painfully. You’ve lost your appetite. 

---

Despite how hard you fight it, when given a moment of respite your thoughts, without fail, turn homeward. You are no longer in Germany, aware of krauts or guns and bullets, but you are a child and the smell of food cooking in the kitchen fills your nose. You are a teenager tripping over the shoes in front of the door, late once again to meet with your friends. 

You are unaware of the world, laying on the hardwood floor with stripes of sunlight shaped by the windows across your bare skin. The window is open, the breeze smells like baked asphalt and grass. A dog is barking. The leaves on the tree in your frontyard shimmer and flash like scales. 

Your mother calls your name. 

Your father laughs. 

Speirs sighs, and you blink your eyes, suddenly staring at the cracked ceiling of someone else’s childhood bedroom. 

Night falls quicker than you’re used to in this part of the world. Candlelight bounces off a pile of silver in the corner and is alight in Ron’s dark eyes. 

He is sitting up, back against the headboard, the blankets around his waist as he stares at a letter he received today. 

You huddle into the quilt, curled up in your side. You trace the lines of his face with your eyes before your attention drops to the letter. There is a bitterness in your mouth you bite back. A loneliness--a longing you cannot control. 

Home. 

You think of your home.

“Read it to me?” When you speak your voice cracks with disuse. You clear your throat before repeating the question once more, only with less confidence.

Ron’s eyes flick to you and he regards you for a long moment before his eyes soften with something like empathy, something like love--and maybe those two things are in practice, the same.

He clears his throat and begins narrating the letter from his mother without much inflection, though in just hearing the kind words of a mother you can pretend to feel the love of one. And with that you close your eyes and slowly, slowly drift to sleep to the sound of Ron’s voice filling the gentle darkness, traveling out the window and into the night--warm like candlelight and soft like the shade of a tree in springtime.

Masterlist | Posting Schedule | War-tober Prompts

[kyun-toast]

[MONSTA X] Changkyun - Happy Without Me

word count: 3.8k warnings: alcohol, suggestions of smoking, swearing, suggestions of sex summary: I don't think about you sometimes 'Cause I think about you all the time a/n: I’ve been listening to the All About Luv album a lot recently and Happy Without Me hit a little different the other day. I hope you don’t notice how I slacked off near the end 💜

“Yerim what are you wearing for tonight? I wanna look cute but not like ‘I’ve put effort in’ kinda cute, you know? Like I’m always this cute.”

Yerim laughed as she replied, “You’d look hot wearing a bin bag so shut up and let me know what drinks you want. It’s ‘bring your own booze’ so I was gonna run to the store for extra before we go.”

“Umm, vodka? Tequila? Maybe rum? I’m getting smashed tonight and you’re all going to carry me home, just letting you know.” Soobin winked and blew kisses at the both of you with a coy smile on her face, as some form of ‘thank you in advance’ for the troubles that you would be going through later that night. As much pain she put the both of you through, it was hard not to love her.

“Yeah, you say that as if that’s not what happens every week, you psycho.”

You smiled from the comfort of your sofa as you witnessed the two of your best friends bicker. You were never really one for parties, but you decided to let yourself go after an unfortunate night maybe five? six months ago. You thought that you could vent your frustrations into your notes app and be done with it, but your friends took pity and introduced you to another option. One where you could numb your mind with alcohol and crashing bass, and you figured that it was somewhat more enjoyable than cry-writing shitty poetry on a Friday night. Notes app therapy was now a thing of the past.

Changkyun had become such an integral part of your life that you couldn’t help yourself from unconsciously replaying memories that you had attempted to bury. A simple look at the most irrelevant objects would have him running through your mind before you could even stop yourself. Oh, we bought this mug together. You were surprised he hadn’t taken it with him when he left. It was his favourite mug to drink whiskey out of. Speaking of whiskey, you needed a drink. It had only taken days for him to make himself at home at the forefront of your thoughts but how long was it going to take to rid of him?

As much as you tried to keep those thoughts at bay, no amount of alcohol could ever stop them from crashing back over you whenever you saw that little smiley face appear at the top of your Instagram feed.

imnameim. When had he posted a story? You hadn’t seen the pink circle earlier. Would it be too early to look at it now? You couldn’t risk tapping on it only to see that it had been posted 12 seconds ago, just like you had done the other day. And the day before. And the day before that. Should you just make a burner account? No, that’s too far, we’re not going there today, bitch... Maybe tomorrow.

You hated how much power that tattoo face held over you, looking straight into your eyes - almost mockingly. Oh, did I look like a smiley face to you six months ago? Well, I’m a sad face now and that’s all you’re ever going to see.

“Y/N! Hey! You’re going to stare a hole into your phone.” Soobin clapped in your face, trying to get your attention. You looked up, softening your expression to meet Yerim’s eyes.

“Soobin was asking what you’re going to wear tonight.” Yerim said.

“I don’t know, probably that top I got yesterday?” you shrugged, unbothered by your friends’ question. You weren’t going to parties to impress anyone; you were going to drink the last of your braincells away.

“Y/N, ‘that top’ you got yesterday is a free t-shirt you got from the Domino’s pop-up stall on campus. I’m not letting you do this again.” Yerim dead panned.

“OK and...?” You met both of their concerned faces only to have them grab each of your arms.

“Come on. Up. That’s it.” You made unintelligible noises as they dragged you up off the sofa and into your closet. The thoughts about Changkyun’s story were left on the sofa as your mind was now filling with an excited buzz. “You act like you hate this, but I know you love getting trashed with us, Y/N.” Yerim laughed and you knew it too.

-

Changkyun lay in Jae-in’s bed, with her nestled in his chest as he looked up at the ceiling and sighed. Being careful not to wake her, he slowly squeezed his arm out from under her head to lay on his stomach to scroll through Instagram.

He had posted a story over an hour ago, half hoping that you’d see it – a cover of Dean’s Instagram. How ironic.

He shook his head at how pathetic his efforts seemed, whispering to himself, “What the hell are you doing?” He refreshed his feed for the last time to see that you had posted a video of the three of you dancing to a song in your walk-in closet. Probably drunk. Upon re-watching the video on loop for the third time, he concluded that you were most definitely drunk.

Seeing you having fun like this had him torn between being happy for you, moving on with your life and probably on to other men too. Being attractive plus the endless number of parties you went to now was just the perfect recipe. You were bound to have found someone.

And this is where the hatred washed over him. He despised it. Hated seeing you have fun without him, moving on as if he had never existed. Was it that easy for you to just forget? It seemed unfair that he was still struggling to keep you off his mind while you were out having the time of your life, letting your followers know of that fact too.

Deep down, he knew that he wasn’t happy for you at all. He was just trying to kid himself into thinking that he was. Be mature and everything. That was what both of you had agreed to be when your relationship came to an end. After days of what could probably be called a verbal equivalent of a nuclear war, the two of you had given up.

Crying, shouting, complete silence, you had done it all and there was no end in sight. On day three of radio silence, you felt as if you could do without speaking to Changkyun at all. When you brought it up, he admitted he felt the same. Exhaustion making both of you devoid of any emotion, you agreed to disagree and act like the fight had never happened. You were tired and wanted nothing more to do with it. Or each other. Thinking of yourselves as somewhat grown, you decided to be civil since you were in the same circle of friends, not wanting to burden them with any of your problems.

With so many things left unsaid and ties still loose, there was no way that you could just cut clean. But you never so much as bumped into each other since.

You hadn’t blocked each other though, as you both felt that it was some sign of weakness. Yeah, I’m tough enough to keep them on my socials. They don’t bother me. Not at all. But in the small hours of the morning, you were on each other’s profiles, hoping for a glimpse of what they were up to. Wondering if he had finished that song he was working on. If you were eating well. If he was really seeing Jae-in seriously. If you were well and truly happy.

“Hey, how are you doing?”

Y/N’s doing just fine for themselves, everyone can see that.

“Did you finish that essay?”

No, that’s too random.

“I think about you all the time.”

Shut up Changkyun.

Though you had both agreed to be ‘friends’, there was no easy way in going about messaging one another when you had fought so explosively. Changkyun also felt that he had missed the right timeframe for him to salvage whatever there was left of the relationship. Whether it be platonic or romantic. No matter how much he wanted to message you, his pride falsely masked as maturity stopped him from ever doing more than wish for you to call him and say that everything was going to be ok. That you can start over.

“Do you wanna go to Minhyuk’s house party?” Jae-in’s voice was heavy with sleep, squinting her eyes at the bright screen of her phone. Changkyun was startled from his thoughts, not realising that she had been woken up by a text.

“House party…?” Changkyun was dubious.

“It’s ok if you don’t want to, it’s just that we don’t ever do anything besides fuck, and I thought we could do with a change of scenery.”

“I mean yeah it’s just that we’ve never hung out with other people before. Like together.”

He had met Jae-in at a bar a few months ago. Holed up in his studio after the breakup, Changkyun got to channelling his anger into working on his music until his course mate Minhyuk persuaded him out for drinks. Minhyuk had flirted with the girls from the table over to get them to join in on the pity party. Jae-in had seated herself next to Changkyun and a few drinks later, they had quickly bonded over their childhood obsession with Death Note to which she followed up with an invitation to watch it at her place. Who was Kyun to reject? With all this pent-up energy to spare, music wasn’t quite cutting it.  

“I doubt anyone will care that we arrived together.” Jae-in shrugged. “Let’s go.”

-

“Yeah, I invited Jae-in and I think Changkyun might come with her too.” Minhyuk stated nonchalantly over the phone. You choked on your wine and thanked God that the music in your room was loud enough to cover the unnatural sound you had just made. “Y/N, is that ok? I should have asked you befo-”

“No, I don’t care.” You replied a little too quickly, “It’s been months and we broke up on good terms anyway, remember?”

“MINNIE! I MISS YOU!” Soobin drunkenly shouted across the room as Yerim held her back from throwing herself at the phone.

“I MISS YOUR FACE TOO, BINNIE! I’LL SEE YOU LATER!” Minhyuk chuckled as he didn’t hesitate to match her volume through the phone.

“Ugh, you two make me sick”, Yerim rolled her eyes, “You literally saw each other this morning. Just get together already.”

As Soobin and Minhyuk continued to chat, engulfed in their own little world, you reached to grab another drink. If Minhyuk’s predictions were right, you were going to need something stronger than wine to get you through the night.

-

Stepping into Minhyuk’s apartment, Changkyun could feel the bass rumble underneath his feet already.

“Hey! You made it! I thought you guys weren’t going to come, it’s so late! But we have drinks and snacks in the kitchen. Oh, and Jae-in, the bathrooms just through the hallway on the right…” Minhyuk’s voice trailed off into the loud music. Changkyun followed behind Jae-in as his friend gave the newcomer a guided tour of his place.

Though he was familiar with the apartment, it felt a little weird for him to walk through it with someone else by his side. A pack of cards strewn over the floor jogged his memory back to a particularly warm night in June. With the sun just beginning to rise, you both stood below Minhyuk’s balcony at 4am. You shouted,

“HEY MINHYUK, WE’RE GOING TO PLAY UNO AT YOUR PLACE, D’YOU WANNA JOIN?”

“THOUGHT WE’D ASK IN CASE YOU’D FEEL LEFT OUT.” Changkyun added. You both snickered as Minhyuk opened his window to shout back at you, regretting that he had ever given you two the spare keys to his apartment.

“ARE YOU REALLY INVITING ME TO PLAY CARDS MY OWN HOUSE RIGHT NOW?!” Birds fluttered away startled, as a neighbouring window flashed on a light in annoyance. Your shouting combined could never top the sheer volume of Minhyuk’s voice. Changkyun grabbed your hand as you ran into the building laughing before the neighbour could join in on the screaming match.

With classes finished for the year, you had what felt like an infinite amount of time on your hands. Kyun smiled to himself as he was reminded of those summer nights that he had spent with you. Stargazing, pillow talking, daydreaming on repeat.

“Yeah, so you can get to the outdoor space through the living room but I’m giving you special access to my little balcony through my room because you’re uh, Changkyun’s friend.” Minhyuk grinned as he ended his tour.

Upon entering the actual party in the lounge, Changkyun stopped in his tracks at the sight of you on the other side of the room. For a moment, the smoke in the room seemed to clear as his eyes trained on you throw your head back in laughter at Yerim’s animated storytelling. Hearing your voice so crystal clear made his heart swell with something that he couldn’t quite put into words. Half a year had passed since he had last seen you, sat broken on the floor of your apartment, explaining that it would be best to part ways. You had looked so drained of emotion then; it was such a stark contrast to what he was seeing now. He stood frozen, heart beating hard against his chest like a hammer.

“Kyun! Why are you so late?” Wonho, another friend of Kyun’s appeared out of nowhere with a bottle of tequila in his hand. “You gotta catch up on the drinks now, come on, open your mouth.” Wonho went to grab his face with one hand as he proceeded to try and pour some alcohol into his mouth jokingly. Changkyun chuckled as he play-fought with Wonho only to stop midway when he noticed Jae-in smiling at the sight.

“Oh, this is my friend Jae-in.” Kyun straightened up and brushed off his clothes.

Wonho went to shake her hand as Minhyuk snuck up behind him.

"Yeah, friend.” He giggled as he raised his brows suggestively and left as quickly as he appeared shouting, “Binnie! Where are you? We gotta go make those s’mores you wanted!”

Changkyun rolled his eyes and smiled as he guided Jae-in to the nearest table of drinks and set to introducing her to the rest of his friends, hoping that you wouldn’t notice him.

-

At this point, the three of you were beyond gone. Soobin had already passed out with a s’more in her hand as Minhyuk hauled her over his shoulder to put her to sleep in the guest room.

“And she.. she was telling me to sythensi.. she was telling me thynsenise, no, synsi.. she wanted me to synthesise, there we go, snythi…” Yerim tripped over words, dead set on getting her pronunciation right while Hyungwon sat and nodded with his signature painful smile on his face. She was determined, hand on his shoulder with a grip that let him know he wasn’t going anywhere until she had finished her story.

As for you? You were sat next to Yerim, a vacant smile on your face as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Day drinking followed up with a house party in the evening really wasn’t the best idea for the lightweights that you are but there you were, listening to your friend repeat the same sentence over and over again. An urgent voice in your head piped up, letting you know that you should probably go for a breath of fresh air.

“Yerim, hey, Yerim, I’m.. going for some air… stay with Hyungwon okay? Hyungwon, call me if anything happens?” You stood up, struggling to find your balance and teetered across the room to get to Minhyuk’s balcony.

The thing about you is that you are one of those blessed people that can sober up as quickly as they get smashed. You felt refreshed, taking in a deep breath as if to cleanse your alcohol ridden bloodstreams with the cool evening air. Your head still spun a little but as long as you kept your eyes anchored on the moon, you’d be fine in no time.

As much as your body needed a break from the party, it wasn’t the greatest timing for your mental state. Once you had assumed that Changkyun wasn’t coming to the party, you let go of the anxiety holding you back from enjoying yourself. You had been overstimulated from the alcohol, music, and people, not giving yourself a chance to think about anything else. But once those factors were gone, it was just you, alone with your drunken thoughts on a balcony looking up at the moon. And just like that, those suppressed memories regarding a certain boy couldn’t help but unpack themselves from your unconscious. Oh man, this was going to be such a good cry.

-

Changkyun was beginning to feel a little too tipsy for his liking. Though he was having a great time, it felt as if he wasn’t entirely present at the scene, like he was watching and laughing along through a TV screen. He slipped away from the kitchen island to get a breather.

“Oh shit, sorry, I didn’t realise anyone was here.” He apologised, going to close the door of Minhyuk’s balcony to a figure hunched over the railing. You looked up from your hands at him and tried to focus on the blurry face.

His movements faltered when your eyes met, door still open. Just one look at you was enough for that knock back into reality Changkyun had needed. God were you a sight for sore eyes. He drank up the way your cheeks and nose were flushed pink, how your eyes were glossy in the moonlight, eyelashes thick with tears, and the way the softly coloured city lights behind you framed your face. With the night air stained with your perfume and the sounds of muted traffic perfecting the scene, he had never felt so in the present until now. He wanted this moment to last a lifetime.

“Changkyun?” You replied, as you wiped your eyes clear of the tears blurring your vision. You could tell that voice apart anywhere, you only questioned in the slight chance that you were just hallucinating, going insane.

“Are you ok? I can leave if you want, I-” He began hurriedly, knowing that you hated having anyone see you cry.

“I’m fine.” You sniffed.

“Bad day?” He asked softly, bringing himself to stand next to you, looking over at the cityscape.

“Yeah, something like that.” You replied, letting out a small laugh as you wiped the last of the tears from your face. 

Tension hung so thick in the air you could feel it weigh down on your shoulders. Changkyun hated that you, the person he had once shared the deepest parts of his mind with, was someone he was now so uncomfortable with.

You both stood there awhile, looking out at the blinking lights of the cityscape. As quiet as it was, you could almost hear the sound of your brains whirring, going back and forth over whether or not you should say something to break the silence. Changkyun had spent months thinking of questions he wanted to ask you for when this moment came, but the alcohol and nerves fogged up his mind. All he could think of doing was holding you in his arms, hoping for you to be able to feel his apologies, sincerity and promises through the beating of his chest.

A heavy pressing in your lungs only intensified, as you thought about how the present situation had become the outcome of those few perfect years. You regulated your breathing, trying to break down the lump from coming up in your throat, on the verge of tears again. Thinking back, you realised that you probably could have been a little more understanding, could have softened your sharp words, could have opened your heart up some more to allow for Changkyun to do so in return. These thoughts and emotions bubbled up inside your chest to spill out of your mouth before you even knew what you wanted to say.

“Changkyun, I-”

“I found a really nice place for nights like this. Y/N.” he cut across with an anxious tremble in his voice. He could feel the apology ready to tumble from your lips, he had to stop you from apologising for things that you really didn’t need to. He hated that your heart was so big and so loving that you were willing to start trying to mend this relationship first. But he hated himself more for not having the courage to try to be even half as loving as you are.

He continued, still looking out over the balcony, worried that he’d start to tear up if he met your eyes again, “you can see the stars so clearly, it’s insane.”

You turned to him, tears welling in your eyes again. Despite having cut each other from your lives for what felt like a lifetime, it broke you how he could still read you like his favourite book.

“Can we go? Y/N? I’ve waited so long to show you.”

Hot tears fell down your cheeks again as Changkyun noticed and turned to you, pulling you into his chest as you cried out the mess of emotions you had amassed. 

The person you had wanted to talk about your breakup with Changkyun the most, was so ironically Changkyun. He’d know how to calm you down, how to sort out your problems with ice cream in bed like any other issue you were facing. But what were you supposed to do when you had cut the one who understood you the most so bluntly from your life? Who were you supposed to turn to when you wanted to talk about that?

Your cries pierced into his heart deeper with every second that passed, feeling the hurt in your voice in the deepest parts of his soul. He replied by holding you tighter, and you could feel all those things he left unsaid that day you left in the warmth of his chest.

“We don’t have to rush,” He whispered into your hair, “I have all the time in the world for you. Let it out.”

He brought a hand up from your shoulders hesitantly, feeling almost undeserving of comforting you after the pain he had caused you. But to you, his hand stroking your hair was where you found your solace.

So, there you stood, in each other’s arms having poured out your hearts to one another without having said a single word. But you both knew that you felt every single one.

[superbadassnatural]

The One With The Morning After

Summary: Y/N has to deal with the aftermath of a night filled with booze, sex, and questionable choices. Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 3,143 Warnings: mostly fluff, tiny bit of angst, a bit of smut, hangover A/N: this was written for @smol-and-grumpy​’s awesome challenge “SuperFriends Tittle Challenge”. The prompt is the title of this story of course. Hope you all enjoy it!

(x)

Few rays of sunshine struggled to get past the blinds and illuminate the room. As the warm light ghosted over your face, your eyes fluttered open. You blinked a few times before taking in your surroundings. A thin white sheet covered your body. You lifted it only to notice you were naked. You felt disgusting as if you had sweated the whole night.

Turning on your back, you noticed the guy you spent the night with was still there. He was on his side, his back to you. The sheet only covered his lower half. Fresh scratches covered his back. You didn’t have to put your tired mind through much thinking to know you were the one who caused them. As much as you wanted to see his face to at least have an idea if you had picked it right, you didn’t want to wake him and deal with the whole morning after thing. One night stands are good. You have fun and most of the time you get off. The problem was the morning after itself. Unlike most people, you thank god when you wake up and the guy has already left or when you wake up first and leave without explanation. The whole ‘it was good, I had fun’ was annoying. Every time you had to put an extra effort to not roll your eyes.

It was frustrating, to say the least when you didn’t even remember the guy’s appearance. You could only hope a glimpse of his face would come back to you. You took one last glance at him before getting up. You nearly choked when your eyes landed on the small scar on the side of his hip. There was no way in hell you wouldn’t recognize that scar. You were the one who stitched him up back then. Clothes formed a trail on the floor, you scooped them up and dressed as fast and as quiet as you could. Your heart was almost leaping out of your chest by the time you walked out of the room.

Outside of the motel, you allowed your breath to even and your heart to calm down in your chest. His car was parked only a few feet away. You ignored the shining impala and made your way back to the bunker. It wasn’t the first time you came to this particular motel so you knew the way.

It was early. Dean never wakes up before noon after a night at a bar. You had enough time to get home, shower, and take a nap before he came back. You could only hope he’d remember as much as you did. Nothing. The thought of ruining your friendship with Dean had your palms sweating. It was undeniable that you felt something for him. Those feelings were buried way too deep and throughout the years you learned how to live with them. He didn’t make it any easier on you though. Dean was constantly flirting with you. In the beginning, it was tough to be around him. Dean’s a flirt. Every now and then he’d give you his signature smirk and wink followed by a flirty comment. Although it caused a weak in your knees, you figured it was best to keep your feelings to yourself rather than risk losing him.

Arriving at the bunker, you made your way to the war room, hoping to find one of your best friends. There was no sign of Sam. You figured he’d either be on his morning run or making breakfast. It wasn’t even eight yet, so he must be home.

“Hey you,” you smiled, leaning on the fridge.

“Hey,” he greeted as he finished making his sandwich. “I didn’t expect you to be back already.”

“Yeah, I know. Just missed my bed I guess.”

“Dean’s not home yet. Did you hear from him?”

“Nope,” you were grateful he had his back to you and wouldn’t catch you lying.

“Do you want me to make you something?” He turned to you, hazel eyes widening as they roamed over your entire body. “You okay? You've been crying?”

“What? No, of course not. Why?”

“Your mascara or eyeliner, I don’t know, is a little smudged.”

“Oh,” your fingertips touched the skin under your eyes softly. You left in such a hurry that you didn’t even look in the mirror. “Guess that’s what happens when you sleep with makeup on,” you shrugged. “Alright, I’m gonna take a shower then take a nap. Trust me, I need it.”

“Okay, you do you.”

You headed straight to the shower. The need to wash off the guilt and fear of ruining your thirteen-year friendship grew stronger by the second. You could only hope those feelings would be dispelled down the drain along with the stink of alcohol and sex. The water felt good on your tired body. You didn’t take long in there though. Every cell in your body claimed to be in bed again. You needed at least two more hours of sleep to survive the rest of the day. That and being away from Dean for twenty-four hours both physically and psychologically. Mission impossible.

Your eyes fell closed the second your body hit the soft mattress. Memory foam hugged your limbs, lulling you to sleep.

The headboard banged against the wall. Your mind was in a haze of alcohol and pleasure. Dean’s groans sounded distant. His hands were all over your body. His thrusts were erratic as he searched for the final push. You arched against him, breasts pressed to his firm chest. He whispered soft praises against your skin as a wave of pleasure consumed you.

Your eyes shot open as you sat in bed abruptly. Beads of sweat covered your forehead. Pulling the covers off, you got up, making a beeline to the bathroom. You washed your face in an attempt to get rid of the images of last night. It was in vain. The mirror only reflected how screwed you were. As if the images and the sounds running wild in your mind weren’t enough, your cleavage was covered in hickeys. You closed your eyes and suddenly you were back in that cheap motel room.

Dean’s lips kissed and sucked every patch of skin they could. Your hand shot to his head, fingers tugging at his hair. He groaned against the curve of your neck. His lips descended to your collarbone. Dean marked your skin as his hand squeezed your breast softly. He drunkenly mumbled “mine” against you.

Shaking the memory away, you turned off the tap and headed to your room. It was early which meant you had high chances of not seeing Dean. You just needed to eat and take a pill for the pounding headache. Then you could come back and hide in your room for the rest of the day. Pulling on a hoodie, you made your way to the kitchen.

“You’re awake,” Sam greeted. “Thought you were gonna sleep for the rest of the morning.”

“Yeah, me too,” you sighed, turning on the coffee maker before grabbing some bacon in the fridge for you to cook. “I wanted to, but I had a bad dream.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” you shrugged.

“I found us a case,” he announced as you sat in front of him with a plate and a mug in your hands. “Omaha, Nebraska. I think it’s a spirit. A quick salt and burn will do it.”

“Good. When do we leave?” you asked, munching the crispy bacon.

“Tomorrow?”

“Okay.”

“And, uh, do you mind if it’s just you and Dean on this one? Eileen and I have a date tomorrow and uh-“

“Yeah, s-sure. I don’t mind going alone with Dean. I mean… Why would I mind? It’s not like we haven’t been on hunts just the two of us.”

“Y/N? Is everything okay?”

“Sure,” you tried to keep your voice as normal as you could, but failed miserably. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “You’re the one acting weird.”

“Okay,” you sighed. “I need to tell you something, but you can’t tell anyone. Last night I didn’t come home because I was with Dean. After you left the bar, we had a few more drinks. A lot more. And we slept together.”

“Finally,” he breathed out and you gasped at his reaction. “I just don’t understand why you guys went to a motel instead of coming home.”

“The motel was closer and we were kinda in a hurry.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you said as you finished your breakfast.

“Why didn’t he come home with you?”

“I panicked when I saw him sleeping next to me. I practically ran out of the room. I think he won’t remember a thing. At least I hope he doesn’t.”

“Why? You’ve known each other for thirteen years. You have feelings for each other for at least ten. I’m surprised it took this long for something to happen.”

“You don’t understand, Sam,” you shook your head. “I can’t ruin my friendship with him. I can’t risk that.”

“Of course you can. You’re just afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” Dean asked as he walked into the room. You nearly gasped. He shouldn’t be back already.

Dean was sporting a hickey on the right side of his neck. You felt your cheeks heat up at the sight of it.

“I’m afraid of spiders and I can’t kill them,” you said fast before Sam could say anything.

Dean only hummed, opening the fridge and grabbing a pot with overdue food. He put some in his mouth but spat most of it, grimacing. A chuckle left your lips at the scene.

“What you got?” he mumbled, turning on the coffee machine.

“Salt and burn. Omaha, Nebraska. Should be easy for you and Y/N.”

“You not tagging along?”

“Nah, got a date with Eileen,” Sam smiled.

“You’re finally getting some,” the older Winchester teased. “Y/N and I can cover it. We are a great team, right sweetheart?”

He gave you a wink. You wondered if he remembered anything of your activities the previous night.

“Right,” you clicked your tongue.

Dean grabbed his coffee and sat beside you. He stank of alcohol and sex. He should’ve gone straight to the shower but he didn’t. He was still in the same clothes as last night for crying out loud.

“Dude, you smell terrible,” Sam grimaced.

“That, Sammy, is the smell of a man who had a crazy night of hot sex. You should try it sometime.”

Fuck, he remembers, you cursed.

“You’re disgusting.”

“No, I’m not. It’s a shame I had what was probably the best night of my life and I don’t remember shit. Not even her face. She left without a note. She could at least have left her phone number somewhere. But she did leave this bad boy here,” he pointed to the purple mark in his neck.

You could only hope neither of them would notice your flaming cheeks. He was so close. You were afraid he’d take one look at your face and all the memories would come back to him. You were afraid he’d still be able to smell his scent ingrained in your skin.

“I do remember some things though. Hmmm, some really good things,” Dean nearly moaned as he closed his eyes and bit his lower lip. Sam quickly glanced at you, hazel eyes wide before staring back at his brother. “Whoever she was she surely knew what she was doing to me. Her body was trapped under mine as if she belonged there. Her hands all over my body, exploring it. Oh, and her skin felt so good under my touch. That I remember damn well.”

You fought hard to repress a moan. The words rolled out his tongue in a sensual song. Your thighs clenched unwittingly. Though you were as much aroused as you were embarrassed. He was saying all that in front of his brother after all. Sam didn’t want to know anything about Dean’s activities, but the look in his eyes told you he was having fun seeing you suffer.

“And she smelled good too. So fucking good. I swear that if I close my eyes, I can feel her touch. I can even hear her soft moans. What wouldn’t I give just to know her name.”

“Maybe you should try asking the bartender if he remembers her face or even her name,” Sam suggested and you kicked his foot under the table. “I’m sure he might remember something.”

“She felt absolutely perfect,” Dean completely ignored his brother. “The way her fingers tugged at my hair, making it hurt just a little. Then her legs wrapped around me and… fuck,” he growled. “That was mind-blowing. She clenched around me so tight-”

“Dude, too much information. You should keep that to yourself,” Sam interrupted his brother while you prayed neither of them had listened to the small groan that left your lips.

“All I’m saying is she was too fucking hot. I wished she could’ve had the decency of leaving me her number,” he sighed. “If you guys think this hickey is the only thing she left for me, you’re wrong. She might not have left a note, but she did leave some real sexy marks all over me. Hmm, I love it when they mark me up. So damn hot.”

“Dude-“

“And if I concentrate hard enough I can still taste her in my tongue,” Dean smirked.

“That’s enough, man. I’m gonna have nightmares for the rest of my life.”

Dean chuckled at his brother’s reaction and took one last gulp of his now lukewarm coffee.

“Excuse me, but I, uh, I’m gonna take a nap. I’m tired,” you hurriedly stood from your seat. “I’ll catch with you guys later.”

As you disappeared in the hall, Dean’s grin got even wider as he shook his head. Sam scoffed, realization dawned on him.

“You remember, don’t you?” Sam asked his brother, a smile on his lips.

“Every single detail,” Dean nodded with a smirk.

“Dude, you aren’t worth a penny.”

“What can I say? I love seeing her squirm.”

“You should go after her.”

“I am,” Dean said. “I’m just gonna give her some time to pull herself together.”

Sam nodded. Silence fell between the brothers. Each of them lost in their own world. Dean tried to come up with a way to approach you without making it weird. Sam tried to erase the images his brother put in his mind. The younger Winchester was sure he threw up in his mouth a little. Dean had given him a share of traumas concerning sex when they were teenagers and now this?

Dean got up from his seat and before he headed to your bedroom, he placed his mug on the dishwasher. He was about to leave the kitchen but stopped and glanced at his brother.

“You were the only one who didn’t score last night, Samuel,” he teased and Sam rolled his eyes.

Three soft knocks on the door startled you, dragging you out of your trance. Mumbling a “c’mon in”, you straightened yourself at the edge of the bed.

“Hey,” Dean smiled, peeking his head through the door.

“Hi,” you smiled, a thumping beat of your heart in your chest.

Dean made his way to your bed and sat just a few inches from you. His thigh brushing against yours.

“How’re you feeling?” He glanced at you but your eyes were fixated on the closed door.

“Really tired. You?”

“Exhausted. Don’t know if I should take a shower or a nap.”

“I think you need both,” you smiled as a chuckle reverberated in his throat.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he clicked his tongue, green eyes falling in his hands as he rubbed them together. “You know, I must confess that you did rock my world last night.”

“You remember?” You stared at him wide eyed only to meet a crooked grin on his lips. “Of course you do,” groaning, you buried your face in your hands.

“How could I ever forget?”

“We had a lot of drinks. A whole lot.”

“Yeah, guess I just needed to get my ass drunk to finally go after something I wanted.”

“Don’t do this, Dean,” you pleaded, staring into his forest green eyes.

“I thought last night meant something, you know? I thought it would change things between us for the best. I couldn’t believe I was the only one feeling something. Not with the way we look at each other and the constant flirting and the way we hold each other. Now imagine my disappointment when I woke up and you weren’t there.”

“Dean, I-“

“I thought you were gonna be there. I thought we were gonna talk and figure things out between us, but you didn’t even give me a chance. It felt as if you regretted it, as if what happened between us was a mistake,” his voice was low, barely upon a whisper.

“No, Dean, I don’t regret it,” you shook your head. “It wasn’t a mistake but we shouldn’t have done it.”

“Why? Why shouldn't we have done it? Give me one good reason why.”

“Because we are friends and I don’t want to ruin that.”

“We were never friends, Y/N. I feel something for you from day one. And I know you feel something for me too. Now you either-“

You captured his plump lips in yours. His eyes widened and it took him a second before kissing you back. His hand cupped your face, thumb caressing your cheek. The gentle press of his lips almost made your heart leap out of your chest. He pulled away a little too soon for your liking. Dean placed a small peck to your lips before resting his forehead against yours.

“Now I either what?” You giggled, opening your eyes and finding his still closed.

“I don’t know,” Dean chuckled. “Guess this changes things, right?”

“Mmhmm,” your hands were on each side of his neck as you pecked his lips.

“Good.”

“I hate to tell you but you need a shower.”

“Yeah, I do,” he said sheepishly, his hands were on your waist as he moved you to straddle his lips. “But I think you should come with me. You know, that whole save water, shower together thing.”

“Hmmm, I’ve kinda already showered.”

“Do it again. I promise you won’t regret it,” he smirked.

“I thought you said you hated shower sex. You said it was too complicated.”

“I don’t hate it. It is complicated though, but I’m sure we can work things out,” he grinned, standing up with you in his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist. “‘Sides, you ought to see all the damage you caused last night.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Winchester.”

I’d love to know what you think of this one!! Consider sharing your thoughts with me via reply, reblog or ask!

Note that if your name is crossed, tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you :(

Forevers: @hobby27​ @thewinchesterandreidwhore

Dean Sweethearts: @maya-craziness​ @akshi8278​ @herfalsegod​ @witch-of-letters​ @weepingwillowphoenix​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​

[imaginedxlan]

Miscommunication Pt. 2 (Neville Longbottom)

a/n: YALL my heart I am so overwhelmed by the love on part one! I didn’t really know how my ~transition~ into a multi-fandom account would be received and I am so happy you guys liked it! Literally only three of you commented that you wanted a part 2 but those three of you have my heart. Thank you, thank you, thank you! Without further adieu, here is part 2 (not gonna lie i gave myself butterflies writing this why am I so single ouch)

Now that Pansy is in on your little secret, it makes holding in your crush on a certain Gryffindor that much harder. However, confessing might just bring more harm to the already troubled boy. 

y/l/n= your last name

Warning(s): cursing, feeling extremely lonely and single, ending is pure fluff

Part 1

________________________

After that day in the library, you find yourself even more preoccupied in your thoughts of Neville Longbottom. It doesn’t make it any easier now that your roommate is aware of your soft spot for the boy, now that she constantly asks when you’ll be professing your love for him. Part of you thinks Pansy is so overjoyed about the news because she can be certain that with a crush like Neville, you’d never want anything to do with Malfoy, at least romantically.

You also find yourself much more nervous than you could have ever imagined. This is the only time you’ve ever doubted being sorted into Slytherin. A crush on arguably the most tormented boy in school yet still terrified to come out and say anything about it. While you were afraid of the possible rejection that could come from a girl like you telling such a timid boy that you’ve liked him for the past year, your heart aches at the thought of what your friends would do if they found out. Confessing your feelings would open up a world of trouble for the boy, one that you would be responsible for.

“Merlin, y/n, are you still contemplating whether or not to tell him?” Pansy asks as she busts into your dorm. Per her last outburst, it isn’t unusual for her to make big entrances. “I never thought I’d see the day where y/n y/l/n was afraid to tell a Gryffindor anything, especially that she had a crush on him. What happened to when you used to bully Potter when he got an answer wrong in potions?”

“That’s different and you know it, Pans!” You groan, throwing a pillow from your bed and toward her. Bullying Potter and making snide remarks toward Granger was different than this. You never really cared for that trio, but you do care for Neville. The thought of him feeling so uncomfortable with you that he would just remove himself from your life altogether was too much for your newly sappy heart to bear. “Can’t I just go on pretending I don’t like the boy?”

Pansy rolls her eyes, her answer obviously being no. She doesn’t understand. For her to tell Malfoy that she’s interested in him wouldn’t be out of the ordinary, you practically spend every waking moment with Malfoy, you spend no time with Neville outside the library and herbology. To just bring up your previous pining for him would be overwhelming to say the least. Not to mention it would spread like wildfire, the only reason Pansy has kept her mouth shut for this long is because she doesn’t want to ruin the romantic novel she’s created in her head about how this will work out.

“Obviously you cannot pretend you don’t like him you absolute idiot.” She scolds you, a hint of laughter in her voice. “I’ll go straight to the gargoyles and tell them right now if you don’t decide to tell the boy by tomorrow.”

By gargoyles, she meant Crabbe and Goyle, a nickname you two came up for them a few years ago. The two were known to bully poor Neville, it would be worse than telling Draco or Blaise directly. 

“Pansy!” You shout, moaning over the unfairness. As much as you wish she was bluffing, you know Pansy too well to underestimate her need to get what she wants. “Fine, tell me how you would do it.”

A smile creeps on her face, knowing she had won this fight. She begins to relay exactly what she’s been dreaming of since you told her about your secret crush. Pansy revels in your imaginary relationship, knowing she’ll never get this type of affectionate and epic confession of feelings from Malfoy. She tells you to grab him tomorrow after dinner, catching him off guard but most likely in a good mood because, as she says, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Take him all the way down to the greenhouse so you won’t be interrupted and plant a big, fat, wet kiss on him. You roll your eyes at that last part, never imagining being so bold in a moment like that. While you didn’t necessarily want to tell him the very next day, knowing full well you needed weeks to prepare for this, you also didn’t want to play with the possibility of Crabbe and Goyle beating the absolute piss out of Longbottom when Pansy tells them.

You spend the whole next day with your mind racing, nervously fidgeting with your hands and robes. Pansy notices your unrest and knows you’re actually going through with this. You can hardly pay attention in your favorite class, so worked up over the thought of Neville’s face when you tell him, also wishing you two took potions together so you could have some idea if his feelings toward you based on his amortentia. But alas, all you could smell was plants, flowers, and a woman’s perfume, knowing it was him, without a clue of what the boy would smell in the love potion.

Just as you walk to dinner, walking with your usual crew of Pansy, Malfoy, Blaise, Theo and the gargoyles, your eyes meet the boy who makes your heart leap out of your chest. You can’t help but smile at him, wearing his little sweater and all. How he ended up being your type will never make sense to you. Just as he smiles back at you, making your heart melt, Crabbe and Goyle knock into either side of him making him stumble.

“What’s so funny Longbottom?” One of them taunts, to be honest, half the time you can’t tell their voices apart. 

“Knock it off!” You snap at the two before they’re able to harass the boy any further, smacking them both on the backs of their heads. As the two wince you turn around to look at Neville to mouth a Sorry. He just gives you a weak smile before turning in to make his way to Gryffindor table. Your heart sinks, he’ll never like you while you’re associated with such idiots. Pansy nudges your shoulder, giving you a concerned look and you simply shake your head at her, not wanting to get into it.

You spend most of dinner gazing toward the Gryffindors, careful not to get caught making eyes at the dark haired boy. Even the way he simply enjoyed a meal was entrancing to you. How he laughed with his friends, what he looked like to listen intently, then proceed to go off on a tangent of whatever his heart desired. Your heart ached for him, and as much as you wanted to protect him from the, at times, horrible boys sitting next to you, you needed to be selfish. You needed to at least give yourself the chance to be happy with someone like Neville. If all goes to shit, you can always go back to Zabini to get your mind off any sort of rejection you’re about to face. 

As dinner comes to an end, you grab Pansy’s hand and squeeze it tight, letting her know it was time. She gives you a reassuring smile before pressing her lips to the back of your hand and whispering a good luck. You rush past your friends, ignoring their questions of where you were off to. You’re able to catch up with the pack of Gryffindors walking toward their common room, tapping the man of the hour on his shoulder, having to get on the tops of your toes to do so. He turns around, confused before recognizing your face.

“Can I speak with you?” You ask. It comes out more timid than you expect, making you want to crawl into a hole and hide for the next year. He stops to fully turn toward you, his friends stopping beside him, looking at you odd. “Sorry, I meant just you.”

“Oh, sure.” He replies, just as nervous around you as always. His friends give him the same look they gave you, but he just nods for them to go ahead without him. “What did you want to talk about?”

You look around you, scared your housemates would see you had pulled Neville aside and create chaos around you. “Not here.” You say, grabbing his hand in yours to pull him away from the crowd of students leaving from the great hall. Your hand burns against his, affected by even the slightest touch from him. As you walk further from the crowd and outside in the cold evening air, your heart begins to pound in your chest. You pull him into the courtyard, bringing back memories of when Draco was turned into a ferret in this very spot, and finally take a seat under the large tree.

He sits across from you, you drop his hand and immediately go to toy with the edge of your skirt. You pull your bottom lips between your teeth and finally meet his gaze, a look of confusion and slight fear gracing his features. “I’m confused, y/n.” He begins, looking away from you for a moment. “Should I be worried.”

“No!” You immediately reply, pulling his attention back to you following your overly enthusiastic answer. The more you think about, he might have to be worried, what with your friends and all. “Well, maybe a little, but not at the moment.”

“You really have a way of saying things without really saying anything.” He muses, rubbing his hands together. Merlin, he’s probably cold. He’ll never be able to reciprocate your feelings in such conditions. “Why’d you bring me outside, y/n?”

You take a deep breath, knowing this is your one shot to tell the boy how you feel before he comes to the conclusion that you’re the weirdo that pulled him outside when the sun had already set to tell him absolutely nothing. “I have to tell you something-”

“I know,” He interrupts. “You said that.”

“Would you let me finish!” You shout, not meaning for it to come off so harsh, but it shuts him up. “Look, Neville. I’ve been thinking about telling you this for a long time, but I could never quite find the courage.”

You take a long pause. He doesn’t dare interrupt you again, just looks at you with anticipation of what information you’ve been keeping from him. You begin playing with your uniform again, searching for any distraction from what you’re about to say. “I never thought I could feel like way about someone, honest. I’ve had these kinds of feelings toward other people, but never like this, you know?”

You look to him again, your words obviously not resonating with him as he’s kept the same expression since you dragged him outside. “I guess what I’m trying to say is something in me sort of lights up when you’re around. I’ve become addicted to the way you look at me and the way you say my name. My heart skips a beat whenever you smile at me or when you give me that nice look you give when I figure something out while you’re tutoring me. I know this may come as a shock since we don’t talk very much outside of class and tutoring, but I guess that just goes to show the impact you’ve had on me.”

He stays quiet, which only makes you more nervous. If he liked you back surely he would be leaping for joy right now. Instead, he shakes his head before breaking the deafening silence, “This isn’t funny, y/n. You can tell Malfoy or Crabbe or Goyle to come out now, make fun of me like they always do.”

Your heart sinks, of course he would think you’re playing some cruel and heartless trick on him, just for him to be humiliated by the boys you surround yourself with. He looks so upset, so broken. You reach out to grab his hand but he pulls it away.

“This isn’t a joke, Neville. They don’t know I’m here.” You tell him in a soft voice, but you know it’s no use, you’re too deeply associated with such hatred. Theres only one more thing you could possible think of to convince him of your feelings. “I smelled you in my amortentia, I swear I did. Plants, flowers and a woman’s perfume, it smelled sweet like maybe of roses and vanilla. I know you probably don’t believe me, I understand that you don’t, but Neville I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”

It’s quiet again, you can hear your heart racing, accepting the impending rejection thats only moments away. You close your eyes to keep any sort of tears in when you feel his hand grasp yours. “You smelled my Mum’s perfume.”

Is all he says. You open your eyes to meet his gaze, confused by his words. He speaks up again. “I don’t understand, y/n. All I’ve ever been to you is a means to pass herbology, how could you possibly smell me in your amortentia? You just described my mother’s perfume, I’ve never told anyone what that smells like.”

“Because that’s not all you’ve been to me.” You reply, not letting go of his hand, the same burning feeling accompanying his touch. “At the beginning, yes, you were my only way to pass. But as time went on, I found myself so drawn to you, hanging on your every word about your beloved plants. When you saw Pansy and I staring at you in the library the other day that was because I had just told her I liked you, as more than just someone to help me pass.”

You can almost see the gears turning in his mind as everything begins to fall into place for him. You become painfully aware that he has yet to make any sort of statement about you one way or another, giving you absolutely nothing to expect when it comes to what he’ll say next. “I don’t understand how someone like you could like someone like me.”

“Someone like you?” You ask, partly hurt by his words. “Neville, if you’re wondering how I could like someone thats kind, considerate, passionate, funny and handsome, I’m not really sure how to explain that to you if you don’t already understand.”

Even in the darkness, the two of you only lit by the faint light of the moon, you can see his cheeks go red, which makes you smile. Almost everything he does makes you smile, you couldn’t imagine another person making you feel this way. 

“Y/n, you don’t know how long I’ve dreamt of hearing anything like that come out of your mouth.” He confesses quietly, almost whispering. He begins to run his thumb over your knuckles, your heart fluttering with his actions. “I thought you were to most beautiful girl in this world the moment I laid eyes on you in first year, I still do. When Professor Sprout came to me and told me you needed help with herbology, I swore Godric was doing me a favor, only some form of miracle could have let me be around you so often. I don’t think I’ll ever understand why an angel like you could somehow feel the same way about me as I do you, but I trust you, y/n. I don’t trust a lot of people.”

Your heart is pounding, finally hearing the words your mind has been begging to hear for months. His his hand still in yours, you shift forward on your knees to inch your face closer to his. He doesn’t back away, he doesn’t protest, he simply takes his hand that isn’t interlocked with yours and brings it to your cheek. You breath hitches in your throat as your foreheads press together, not daring to look into his green eyes, fearing you’ll fumble over your next actions. Without a second thought, you dip your head down to catch his lips in yours. His hand moves further back into your hair as the other stays intertwined with yours, planted on his lap. You half expected him to sit still as your lips moved against him, but they move together in sync like they were always meant to meet. After a short while you pull away, trying to catch your breath. With your foreheads still touching, you can feel his staggered breath against yours. Slowly you sit back on your heels again, unclasping your hand from his. You stand in your spot and lean down to press your lips to his forehead, then lift his chin to place a soft kiss against his lips.

“Goodnight, Neville.” You say quietly after you pull your lips away from his again, unable to contain your smile. “See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.” He repeats. He doesn’t follow you out of the courtyard, he stays in his seated position, leaning on his hands behind him. Once you’re out of earshot he looks up to the stars to say, “Whoever just made that happen, thank you.”

You float back to the dungeon, not even feeling the usual cold air of the common room. When you open your dorm door, Pansy immediately shoots up from her bed to catch a glimpse of the moony look on your face.

“Y/n?” She calls, making you slowly turn your head to look at her. “Tell me what happened.”

You walk toward her bed, taking a seat next to her before laying back to stare at the ceiling, the smile never fading from your face. You bring your fingers up to touch your lips, still feeling his on yours. “I kissed him.”

Pansy squeals, laying back next to you and nudging and poking you in every which way, making you giggled next to her. Living this moment in pure bliss. “Well what did he say?”

“It doesn’t even matter,” You reply, wanting to keep that moment you spent with Neville sacred between the two of you. “He likes me too.”

You don’t sleep that night, spending the next hours gushing to your roommate about his smile and the shape of his lips against yours and the feeling of your fingers intertwined. You both have early classes the next morning but you didn’t care, you’re completely and perfectly content.

tags:

@huffledor-able541 @si1v3rpho3n1x

@pastanest

[haikyuuhimbosandhypebeasts]

Heliotrope

Here’s my submission for the Forget Me Not collab for Anisylum! Please note the TW as it is VERY heavy. This piece is entirely SFW though!

Ship: Tsukishima Kei x GN! Reader Genre: Angst, but some fluff in some places. Word Count: 2.2k  Trigger/Content Warnings: near death experience, hospitalization, COVID-19, vomit mention, amnesia after hospitalization, a suicide attempt is briefly mentioned, swearing because this is by me Sexy Sexy Masterlist: here!

Sand clung to skin and the harsher rays of light that usually cascaded and burnt you had died away into a fading tangerine glow. You perched comfortably on the sand, taking note of the undulating waves- they were like you in the sense that while you could crash down hard on the opposition, you would shy away in a fragile manner when faced with gentle treatment. Perhaps it was that you felt you weren’t worth such luxuries that you found it hard to make friends through your first few years of high school. Perhaps it was trying to push people away because you were afraid yet alarmingly aware of your mortality. Perhaps it was something else entirely, something you weren’t quite ready to come to terms with. What you did know was that you weren’t alone in the violent struggle through high school to make friends while you had your walls up. Next to you was someone you never thought you’d share your favorite place with; in any terms you found this boy appalling with his behavior. So appalling, you saw yourself in the way he closed himself off and cut those close with tongue lashings. You knew this only through another friend who took issue with him as you went to another school in an entire other prefecture. Words mauled their way out from your throat, breaking the silence between you and Tsukishima Kei. “I won’t ask you why you tried to do what you did today. But I will ask if there’s anyone you can talk to in your life.” You didn’t understand yourself. Why would you say that…? You don’t remember anything like this at all… His response was equally incoherent and odd. “Okay, but I’ll kill you if you go back on it.” When you opened your mouth to reply to him, the ground around you suddenly reared up like a defensive serpent. A pillar of beach sand forced its way from the ground into your throat, suffocating and trapping your lungs in permanent fullness. You could only gag and cry, unable to even see Tsukishima past the torrent of sand breaking into your body with the intent to kill you slowly…

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You woke up once more in that dull grey-blue and white room with the only sounds you could properly process being the beep of a heart monitor somewhere behind you. You had managed to halfway curl into somewhat resembling the fetal position, but something kept making you cough and gag as your throat was caught. You move your hand to whatever is catching and about to make you vomit- a tube. This tube, you followed, was in your nose good and solid, and you felt it deep enough in your sinuses you didn’t dare try to pull it out. Moving your hands felt foreign like you had forgotten how to process being human and natural motions like that. You testingly ran your right hand down the tube, taking care to not tug and cause discomfort. Your other hand came to rest on your face. It was slick from sweat, likely due to whatever the fuck you just had a dream about. At the corner of your lips was another tube and when you followed where it led it was taped to the side of your face. You lick your lips and manage to almost fall into a haze until you see movement for the first time in what feels like forever. To be fair, it is one of the most jarring appearances of a person you’ve seen in your whole life to what you can recall. A person in a full-body hazmat suit enters your room through a door you hadn’t even processed was there, then greets you as casually as they can through a plague-resistant suit. “Hey there.” You squint at them. Yeah, you have no fucking idea who this cosplayer in a hospital is, and while you should probably be polite, you feel like you got ran over not once but twice.  You try to speak to them, but you can’t. You don’t have the air for it, it’s like you have no control over your breathing. Clarity washes over you. You’re hospitalized. These are tubes because you were asleep and weren’t breathing or eating right. The realization must show on your face because your nurse speaks up again. “Don’t worry about me too much, we’re just gonna check your vitals and if you feel up to it, we can see how you do without the ventilators.” You try to manage out a “whoopee”, which unimpressively comes out as some form of odd wheeze, and your nurse begins by grabbing the blood pressure cuff covered in protective plastic while they wear a sympathetic expression.

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Once you were off the ventilator, the nurse informed you about what had happened. Apparently, an ambulance was called when you were unresponsive and nearly blue in the face, sitting in front of your refrigerator with the door open. You were diagnosed with a severe case of COVID-19, something you had feared would wipe you out entirely and turn you past tense since its spread in your country. This fear wasn’t entirely irrational, either- you were immunocompromised and have been since you were a child. You grew up with being careful around others and hearing of a highly contagious new strain was something that filled you with so much paranoia you seriously considered quitting your current career and instead adopting a hermit lifestyle while completing college at home. Of course, such a thought was squashed by the slowly impending thought of rent, bills, due dates for assignments, and your bitch of a manager who lets people get close to you without a mask on. It’s not a big deal, (y/n), she once said to you. You wanted to shoehorn some tubes down her throat just to survive, see how that felt. It didn’t help that human resources wouldn’t listen to your complaint. They brushed it off since you were just a lowly sandwich maker at a chain sub place. If you had enough scraped together for lawyers right about now, they’d be totally fucked, you thought to yourself. Even more jarring is that it seemed you lost a handful of memories while in the hospital. You could remember basic outlines of people in your head- your very tall and incredibly testy roommate, your younger sister who wore glasses and was much smaller than you, and… a foggy memory of a man with messy black bedhead who had an arm wrapped around your shoulder. It hurt to think too hard. The doctor soon came by to give you test results, to check your vitals again, and to look over your records. He was a bit terse, but you can’t make the best judgments of people when they’re in plastic suits. “We’ll need to get you cleaned up by tomorrow and you should be able to head home,” he’d said, looking over your chart. You didn’t necessarily feel too ecstatic about your trip to your apartment. You remembered your roommate and how finicky he was, and you dreaded for him to belittle you over your condition. You dreaded it enough to even feel a knot of anxiety form in your stomach, wrenched in between your ribs without the intent of ever coming out. “We’ve already contacted uh…” The doctor squints at the screen, “Tsukishima… to come to pick you up tomorrow at noon. We’ll have care instructions printed out. You still have to quarantine for about a week more since your immune system isn’t at its most prime currently.” You agreed, it probably wasn’t a good recovery idea to make a couple of sammies for the public while you were recovering from a virus that had you intubated. He seemed grateful that you were lucid and cooperative, at least.

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You, predictably, didn’t sleep well after being in a medically induced haze for several days. Even more predictably, you found yourself awake from anxieties of the future. Tomorrow was only a few hours away, and then you’d be home. Home… what did that look like for you? The fog in your head was thick initially. You do remember coming home from classes at a different time than Tsukishima, how when you entered he’d often be reading over homework. You remembered how sometimes he would be in the shower and the scent of cheap green apple soap filled the living room connected to it. You remembered… You remembered holding his thin frame in your arms on a bridge, pulling him back from oncoming traffic. You remember how you both collapsed and how the cold autumn air stung your lungs. You remember wide golden eyes staring back at you, as tears slowly filled them, then his normally impartial voice breaking as he hiccuped a sob, “Why? Why did you have to be in Sendai right now?” You felt tears stinging your eyes and a lump form in your throat. You found yourself in distress of your new emotions. Maybe… maybe you can sleep this horrible feeling off. Maybe this fog in your head where you need to know how deep your relationship ran will lift once you get genuine sleep.

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Finally, a knock on the door encouraged you to rouse from your sleeping state. And eloquently, you spoke your true feelings in your sleep-deprived state,  “No.” You hear the doorknob turn and the door open. There’s a lack of a greeting from your nurse nor a quick apology from your doctor for interrupting your sleep. Actually, if you’re gonna use logic, what nurse or doctor is gonna wake up their peacefully sleeping patient in recovery? Thought of it being your doctor or nurse practically evaporates once the intruder has a seat on your bed. They still haven’t spoken, so now you’re remembering what tricks of self-defense you learned online to give this person a proper ass-kicking for getting way too close. You crack your hazy eyes open to get a look at where they’re sitting and you stop dead in your thoughts as wary gold eyes peer down at you. Your eyes widen out of reflex and butterflies bloom from your stomach at seeing what you now remember is your roommate. “I knew you were awake,” He said, a wry smile on his face. His expression was betrayed by his concerned gaze, though, “Wow, you look like shit.” You don’t know entirely why past his comment feeling not as an insult, but almost as a compliment, but you smile a little, “I feel like it too.” His expression doesn’t change. He runs a large calloused hand through the tresses of your hair, though, as if to soothe you. The doctor walked in and apologized for interrupting the moment between the two of you, unsure if it was something serious. You told him it was nothing because that’s what it was to you.

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The car ride wasn’t filled with the snarky banter you had been expecting. Instead, there was plentiful comfortable silence as Tsukishima drove. You didn’t know whether to be grateful or not for the silence- you still felt quite feeble and needed way more bed rest before you could get ready to do anything for anyone. Despite the wholesome silence, you felt those round gold eyes focus on you occasionally. And even though it was comfortable, you felt a melancholy twinge in the atmosphere as he inspected you. “I know you’ll give me shit for this… but you look like you’ve lost weight. I uh…” He gripped the steering wheel harder. You glanced over at him. A shade of baby pink dusted itself across his cheekbones and nose as he focused on the road. “I’m worried about you.” Fuck, there go those butterflies again. Something in you pushed to help- to comfort- but the logical side of your brain brought you to a halt. You’d weighed it in your head a couple of times. You two act closer than just roommates, and it’s not entirely clear how or why you got up to this point… but you had a solid hunch you might be dating this guy. Maybe? You closed your eyes and rested your head on the car door as you thought. You remember how sand clung to your body and you could hear the roaring of the sea. How you watched Tsukishima focus on the waves to regulate his breathing. You vaguely remember your words breaking away from your throat and catching the salty sea air. “Why don’t we stay together?” His lanky body stiffened, then he looked at you with disbelief. “... you wouldn’t want that. I’m fucking annoying and mean.” Your eyes creased with familiarity at the line. “Yeah? So am I. We can butt heads until we balance each other out.” It looked like he wanted to cry, but his pride wouldn’t let him cry in front of you anymore today. “I won’t ask you why you tried to do what you did today. But I will ask if there’s anyone you can talk to in your life,” you reached a careful hand over to rub his back, “Kei, if there isn’t, let me be that person.” You felt how his breath shuddered. To save his pride, you looked to the ocean and watched its hypnotic movements. After a few deep, shaky inhales and exhales, he replied. “I don’t understand why you’re being nice to me. Why you didn’t let me die. I will probably come back to this point in my life several times and you’re trying to say you’ll put up with it?” There was some bite to his tone, he was trying so hard to put up walls when he had no will to do so at the moment. How long had he pushed others away from being close? If he was anything like you… it was since grade school. “Let me be your support for when you’re in pain,” You tried once more, “I’m stubborn as shit so I know I won’t give up on you.” “You’re not getting it, you fucking idiot. I’m always in pain, that’s just been life,” he snapped bitterly, glaring at you now.  “Then I guess I’ll be by your side forever.” You’d said it without thinking that day. It was like the ocean grew quieter with your words as if even Poseidon became interested in your proposition. You felt heat rise to your face at the implications of what you said. He stared at you with raised eyebrows and the slightest hint of a champagne pink hue on his face. He averted his eyes almost in a panic and watched the ocean again, suddenly very aware of his own expression. You carefully peered over at him again to see he’d only grown redder, now mirroring you. “You… don’t mean that,” He said as if it were a statement. “I do. You’re a good person inside, but you’re defensive and hurt. I’ve seen that from you in the past and I’ve learned more about you today. I want to be there for you as long as you’ll have me. Will you let me?”  He picked at the sand as if thinking it over for a moment. There was a brief pause as waves rolled over each other in front of both of you, the sound of their impact being the only thing to grace your ears. Finally, his cynical tone returned as he regained some form of his prior composure. “Okay, but I’ll kill you if you go back on it.”

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“Hey. (Y/n), we’re home,” Tsukishima gently shook your shoulder to rouse you from your sleep. You opened your eyes slowly and groaned out a swear. Tsukishima felt a hesitant smile creep up his face as he opted to just try and maneuver you into your shared home himself. He remembered how waking up was hard for you. Once he opened the passenger door you nearly fell out onto the pavement, only saved by your seatbelt and the giant himself. Your face fell awkwardly into his hip, and you grumbled at the interruption to your sleep. “You sleep like the fucking dead, christ,” he mused out loud and sat you up so it was safe to unbuckle your seatbelt. He urged you to get up more- it wasn’t that you were heavy, he just really wasn’t in the place to lift you at the moment and didn’t even know how to go about it. Regardless, he held you up by a shoulder and crouched to make it easier for you both to walk to the apartment. In some part of your sleep, you began to speak, “Kei.” He kept his gaze trained forward at the front door and struggled to grab his keys from his pocket, “Yes?” “Are we married?” Kei dropped his keys, then shot you a look of concern, “... No…?” He had to hold himself back from saying not yet, unsure of what you were getting to. He reached down to grab his keys and he focused back on the door. “Why are you asking?” He unlocked the door and threw it open, getting you both inside finally. He set you on your couch and sat on the floor in front of you. You looked at him suspiciously, now roused from your sleep. The only thing on your mind was that dream- it had to be a memory! You refused to understand it as anything but that. You prodded, “On the beach, I told you I’d be by your side forever.” He seemed to weigh your thoughts heavily in his mind, “... did you forget about us?” You didn’t expect what felt like cold water to hit your back so hard and so suddenly at his suggestion. He didn’t seem hurt at the thought, instead, he found himself occupied with your reaction. His hand reached out to rub the side of your face as you looked at him with wide, guilty eyes. “Don’t worry about it. Your sister told me this kind of thing might happen…” His calloused thumb traced over your lip, and he offered a smile the best he could, “I’ll try to explain it.” Tsukishima explained that what you remembered happened about four years ago and you had been living together ever since. He motioned to photos on the walls of the two of you and people who you could just hardly remember. When you rested your index finger on an individual who was much scrawnier than most of the people there, sitting on the bench with you and watching you speak with admiration, Tsukki put his hand over yours. “That’s your sister. She took most of these pictures, but she usually sits next to you when you have a space available.” You nodded and closed your eyes. You began to remember summers you spent with her in childhood and her yelling at you to do your homework when you bothered her as you got older. You smiled a bit. Once your eyes opened again, your finger traveled to possibly the tallest person in the room. He was big, but you remembered something warm and comfortable about that man… “That’s Kuroo. You both went to the same high school and you were in his friend group.” You both went on like that for a while until you’d cleared everyone in that picture. Once you did, you sat down to think over the new cluster of names you’d picked up. “... when you promised you’d be here with me forever, did you remember what I promised to you?” Kei asked as he sat next to you. “No… I just remember what happened on the beach up until you threatened to kill me if I took back my promise.” “Oh, right. I was going through that phase,” He seemed displeased with the comment. You found it almost funny but refrained from laughing for his sake. He continued, in a quieter tone, “I promised that if something happened to you, that I would always be here for you, too. That I’d get you back into shape.” His larger hand gently entwined with yours, “... so if you remember that promise and you’ll have me, I’d love to marry you once you get your memories back. … If you want to. I-” You cut him off with a hug to his side, trembling a bit as your emotions got the better of you. You smiled up at him. “I can’t promise I’ll be better fast, and I still feel like several trucks ran through me at once… but I’m happy,” you managed out. You didn’t know what your face looked like right about now and you didn’t have the nerve to look up into Kei’s glasses to check your reflection. He wrapped his arms around you in return, pressing the side of his face against your head. “Please, don’t give me an answer yet. You’re not in the right mental state. I’ll wait for you until you’re ready.” You ran your hands up and down his back. You weren’t exactly afraid of remembering things, but you were quite anxious for what tomorrow might bring for both of you. Despite that, you felt safe recovering in his arms, and you were sure you’d feel that way for a long time.

Have a link to the sexy sexy masterlist down here as well. Unless you’re done reading, then have a good day. But if you’re not there’s some fire stuff in that bad boy.

[crimefightingspiderguy]

i remember thinking i had you

Summary: Based on the request sent in by @peter-maximoffsbitch “Hey! I saw your requests were opened and I wanted to ask if you could write a Peter x reader on a lazy Sunday morning? Ya know just some sweet domestic bliss ♡ Thank you!”. I started off doing the domestic bliss/lazy Sunday thing, then I ended up getting carried away because I couldn’t help myself. So this has that sweet domestic bliss side, but it also has a touch of angst and then back to happy bliss. 

Warnings: Spoilers for WandaVision

Pairing: Evan Peters!Peter Maximoff/Quicksilver x Reader

Word count: roughly 4,537

A/N: Was I totally listening to August by Taylor Swift while writing this first half? Yes. Yes I was. Also, your powers in this are supposed to be like Rouges, but it was sort of hard for me to describe them without saying her name as an example lol. Also this is my first time writing for Peter Maximoff/Quicksilver, so sorry if it is a little rough in some places. I hope this is what you’re looking for and a little more! Let me know what you think, feedback is always welcome!

Peter woke up laying almost exactly how he’d fallen asleep. His head resting on you, arms tucking behind your back. Only this time, instead of singing a soft melody in his ear as you brushed your fingers through his hair, you sat reading a book. Peter rolled over so he could look up at you,

“Morning.” He said through a yawn.

“Morning.” You smiled down at him, peaking past your book, only briefly. Putting your free hand back into his hair, causing him to melt into your hand and let out a content hum.

“I love it when you do that.”

“Oh, trust me, I know.” You let out a small giggle. He reacted the same way every time you went to touch his hair. A simple sigh of relaxation, a content hum, and a visible relaxation in his body.

“Whatcha reading?” He asked, eyes closed so he could fully appreciate your presence.

“A Tale of Two Cities. It’s for the literature class I’m taking.”

“Is it any good?”

“I think so. It’s pretty interesting, especially considering it’s partially based on real events.”

“Will you read it out loud?” He requests, you nod and pick-up where you left off. He lays patiently while you somewhat stumble your way through the book. It’s written with some older slang terms, making some of it hard for you to read quickly through, but Peter didn’t care. He cared about listening to the fluctuation in your voice telling him how you were reacting to a certain event, cared about your breath going in and out, cared about your steady heartbeat under his head. These were the only moments he could be completely still when awake. When you grounded him, allowing him to take things slow and appreciate every single moment of life. The sun was shining in on your skin, lighting you up in a way that seemed almost angelic. It was pure bliss.

 The warm memory of that delicate August morning helped you wake with a smile on your face. The first time you’d genuinely smiled in weeks. It has been too long since you felt the warmth Peter brought to you, too long since you woke to his snoring vibrating through your chest, too long since you got to run your hands through his hair and hear his sigh of content. It’s been about three weeks since he disappeared. No one knows where he is still and how to get in contact with him. The last time you saw him you were sitting out in the front lawn of the school with his head in your lap as he listens to his music through his headphones while you worked on homework. You’d taken a break to stare at a nearby bumble bee landing on a flower. It was calming.

“I’ll be right back” Peter said, getting up with a confused look on his face.

“Where are you going?” You started to ask but was cut off by him zooming away. You shrugged and went back to looking at the bee, he wouldn’t be gone long. You were wrong though; he was gone long. He never came back.

 You wiped away the tears forming on the brim of your eyes. You thought you had all the time in the world with Peter. You never thought he would leave you, especially not like this.

“Y/N”

You jumped, scared out of your mind. Sitting up and looking around like a madwoman. It was his voice.

“Peter?” You called out to him. “Jean? Is this some sick prank? Because I can tell you it’s not funny.”

“Y/N help me.” Peter called out to you.

“How? Where are you?” You asked quietly, realizing the voice was definitely not Jean, she could get into your head, but not like this.

“Come to me. I need your help.” Peter’s voice started to fade.

“No… Come back, tell me how to find you!” You start panicking. But just as quickly as the voice came, it was gone. You frustratingly fell back onto your pillow, almost trying to slam yourself into unconsciousness. At least there you would be with Peter. But what was that voice? You ran through the obvious thoughts, ‘I’m going crazy. It couldn’t have been him. Simply me imagining things because I was dreaming about him.’ But something about those excuses didn’t sit right with you. ‘Maybe Peter was reaching out? Maybe he found a way to contact me, like cerebro? Maybe that’s the key!’ You quickly jumped out of bed and ran to the long hallway where the device is kept. Your powers were confusing, in the way that you had no idea what the limit was. You were able to “absorb” other abilities. You wouldn’t take them from them, but you were able to use them if you touched the person and concentrated. At this point you were able to do a lot of the basics that could help you get to Peter. You had Jean’s telepathy, Kurt’s teleportation, Peter’s super speed, and your own strength and skill from training, you could get to him and save him. In your rush, you hadn’t even realized you bumped into Beast.

“Hey kid, what’s the hurry?” He asked you, startled.

“I have to find Peter.” You said, a wild look had over-come you, in your right-out-of-bed look.

He began to question you further, but you just began running. With Peter’s speed, you got there in a matter of seconds. Students weren’t really allowed in this area unless with Charles, but you could care less right now. You were getting Peter back. You broke into the room and quickly put on the helmet, homing in on his voice in your memory. You searched and searched when finally, it became clear again. He was calling out to you again.

“Come on Pete you gotta give me something to work with.” You searched his distant and fuzzy mind for anything that could give you a location. You saw that he was currently talking to a woman named Agnes. You couldn’t hear what she was saying but based on the worry pressing in on you from his mind, you figured it wasn’t too good. “Pete, I need you to look around the room for me. I have to be able to clearly visualize where I’m going.” Through Peter’s eyes you saw the room as he quickly looked away from the woman. It wasn’t much, but it might just be enough. You took cerebro off and clearly visualized Peter, that woman, and the room they were in.

 You landed with a cloud of blue hanging in the air. Right in front of you was Peter and the woman you assumed was holding Peter hostage in some way.

“Peter!” You ran to hug him, but he just stumbled backwards.

“Woah there toots. You don’t waste any time, do you?”

“Who are you?” The woman Agnes asked, grabbing your arm.

“My name is Y/N and I’m here to take my boyfriend home, even if it means I have to kill you.”

She began cackling, “Kill me? Honey I’m hundreds of years old. You couldn’t kill me in your dizziest daydreams.” She still held your arm, you began concentrating, seeping her power into your body. Allowing you to feel how powerful she was. But at least now the fight would be even.

“So, what are we gonna do with you? I can’t have you running around telling people who he is. No, I need him to play his part well.”

“What did you do to him? What do you mean play his part?”

“Well, you see honey, I need your little boy toy here to be my eyes and ears.”

“He’s under your control? So, he doesn’t remember me?” Your heart cracked a little at the thought. You didn’t even need her to confirm this, you could see into his mind and see the haze over his memories from home.

“Mhmmm, how about this. I could use you both if we go about this the right way. So, Pietro dear,” Peter’s eyes flickered away from you to her. “Stick to the plan, introduce yourself on the show tonight. And you little lady are going to be the new neighbor in town, introducing yourself tomorrow, so you can keep a watch from a distance, and if Pietro here were to fail, you could swoop in and take over.”

“What am I supposed to be watching for?” You asked.

“I need some information out of his sister Wanda, and you two are going to help me get it, or you’re never going home.”

 The next day you woke up in an unfamiliar bed. Looking around, you saw Halloween decorations everywhere, and in your closet a single costume. You were going to dress up as a cowgirl. You rolled your eyes, “how original” you muttered to yourself. While Agnes thought she had put you under the same spell as Peter, she was very wrong. You were able to block her out but played the part of brain-washed zombie well enough she let you and Peter go. You didn’t dare say anything other than a good night to Peter as he went to this Wanda’s house and you went a house over from Agnes’s. You got ready and went down to the first floor of your new home to find a snoring Peter laying sprawled out on your couch. ‘This is it’ You thought, my chance to take him and never look back. But what would stop Agnes from following you? She found Peter once. You knew if you planned on making it out of here, you had to make it through today like she planned. Then you might be able to bargain yours and Peter’s freedom or even just make a break for it. You walked around to the front of the couch and sat cross-legged in front of Peter. You missed him so much, but it seems he’s been unable to even think about you other than the subconscious plea he called to you with. You ran your hand through his hair and saw a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth. He released a soft sigh and you saw his visibly tense shoulders relax.

“You found me” He muttered.

“Peter?” You gasped; does he remember?

“Who else would it be? Jesus?” He laughed at his own joke and you let out a sob that you’d been holding in for way too long. His eyes shot open and before you knew it, he was up and pulling you into his lap on the couch, holding you close. He began drawing shapes on your back, trying to calm you. “Shhh… it’s okay. I’m here now, and I’m not leaving your side until we get out of this hell on earth.” Your shoulders shook with the force of your crying. After a couple minutes, you were able to calm yourself and wipe your eyes dry. “Better?” He asks, pushing your hair back from your face. You nod your head, “Good, because we have a big day ahead of us. Playing along with Agnes’s little game, then getting the hell out of dodge.”

 You and Peter headed over to Wanda’s house together. On the way, he caught you up on the things he was supposed to do, pretending to be Wanda’s brother and convincing her to tell him how she created this fake little world. You were holding his hand up to the point of Wanda’s front door. Peter dropped your hand and you felt he warmth slowly seeping out of you again as he turned around and said “showtime” to you.

He rang the doorbell, and it was answered by a small child, probably the age of 10. “Uncle P!”

Peter ran into the house, throwing the boy and the other one nearby over his shoulders. He ran them round and round in circles as they playfully screamed and laughed their heads off.

“Someone better be bleeding or dying.” A woman came down the stairs dressed in a red costume. She stopped when she saw you awkwardly standing in the doorway. You could feel her trying to get inside your head, so you gave her slight access. Enough to see you were new in town and Peter was helping you meet new people after he bumped into you on the street.

“And who is this?” Wanda referenced you, as if she didn’t know.

“Oh, this lovely lady here is Y/N. I met her on my way to your house this morning and she’s new, so I thought why not introduce her to some neighbors.” Peter said as he put the boys down and zoomed next to you, putting a hand on your back to slightly push you forward to greet Wanda.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at the ‘lovely lady’ comment, ‘good, she’ll believe our story of being strangers’ you thought in the back of your mind, somewhere you weren’t letting her gain access to. You held you hand out to her and she took it with slight hesitation, but when you showed her you meant no harm, she relaxed slightly. In that brief moment though, you were able to gain even the slightest access to her powers, and you took the oppourtunity.

“Wanda” She told you.

“It’s nice to meet you Wanda. I just live two houses down actually, so we were bound to bump into each other at some point.” You let out a small innocent giggle, “But Pietro here was just bursting with energy at the chance of bringing me to meet you.” Wanda gave a smile to Peter and quickly noticed his hand still resting on your back. You could see in her mind that she was picking up the idea that Peter thought you were cute and wanted to impress you.

“Why don’t you join us for trick-or-treating tonight? You could meet more people around town, and by the looks of it you’re already dressed for the occasion.” She waved at your cowgirl get-up.

“Yeah, I was hoping I wouldn’t be the only one dressing up all day. Love that costume by the way, so cute on you!” You complemented her.

“What are you supposed to be mom?” One of the boys asked,

“Old red riding hood?” The other one seemed to finish the thought.

Peter snickered, “I’m actually a Sakovian fortune teller.” She said forming an invisible crystal ball with her hands.

“That’s so cool!” One of the boys said at the same time that Peter seemed to say “Lame”, the boy quickly fixing his previous statement, and copying the “lame”.

“It’s worse than the costumes mom made for us the year we got typhus.” Then the strangest thing happened. It was a flashback, that all of you could see, playing in your head. Peter did mention that we were on some sort of TV show Wanda created, so maybe it was supposed to be a character flash back?

“That’s not exactly how I remember it.”

“You probably suppressed a lot of the trauma”

Just then the boys grabbed your hands and pulled you away from Peter and Wanda.

“Wanna see our new game?” They asked, even though their determined pulling you away was more like “Come see our new game, now.” But, of all the people you’ve met so far, these two boys had the purest minds. They weren’t clouded by anything or anyone, they weren’t being controlled, so you knew their question wasn’t scripted or forced, just them being kids.

They pulled you to sit down on the ground with them on either side as they showed you how to play with them. You kept an eye on Peter’s mind, and you saw that he was smiling at you and the boys. Wanda’s mind was slightly louder than the clouded Peter, and she was now looking between you and Peter curiously. You looked a little bit deeper into her mind and realized she was suspicious of Peter. He didn’t look like her actual brother, or even act like him. But she was starting to put that aside, since he had given her no real reason to not trust him yet. She was now fascinated though, with his reaction to you. She could tell he acted different when he turned his attention to you.

You quickly left Wanda’s mind, sensing that she was starting to feel someone in her head. Peter zoomed over to you, sitting on the coffee table, resting his legs on either side of your torso. He wrapped his arms around you and helped you play the game by putting his hands over yours.

“Hey! No cheating Uncle P!” The boy who introduced himself as Billy said.

“It’s not cheating, just teaching!” He put his hands up in self-defense. But quickly replaced them over yours to help you get ahead of the boys again.

Just then, you heard someone else come down the stairs. You heard his conversation with Wanda, and gathered he was her husband and the twins’ father. Wanda told him about you being new in town, and you saw in her mind her leaning closer to his ear and saying, “I think Pietro has a crush on her.” And pulling back from him with a smirk on her face. The man named Vision gave a soft “ahh” and nodded in understanding. As soon as Peter had rushed behind you, he was gone.

“Sweet costume bro-ham-in-law. Let me guess, traffic light? Half-shucked corn? A booger!”

“Yes…” Vision said, clearly over Peter, but you couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

Peter pumped his fist in the air and came back behind you and continued to help you play the game, but that was after he handed all three of you sodas and showed them how to shotgun it. “One, two, three, go!” Peter exclaimed as you all tried to down it as fast as you could. You actually finished first and turned around to smash the can into Peter’s head. You were able to do it fairly easy, and you heard the thought run through Wanda’s mind, ‘Wow, she’s pretty strong… I wonder… No. I would see it in her head’. You turned back around making sure to go at a normal speed. The last thing you needed was for her to find out you were a mutant and hiding something from her.

Later on in the day, you, Wanda, Peter, Tommy and Billy began walking through the streets, on the hunt for candy. Peter was running around with the boys, leaving you and Wanda alone to talk. It was then that you felt the presence of Agnes in your mind. You made sure to keep the conversation light, to not make Wanda suspicious, but to maybe hint towards the information you needed.

“So, what made you come to Westview?” Wanda asked.

“I started thinking about moving about a month ago, this was close to the city, but not too close, and it had some good property up for sale. So, I took a leap of faith and ended up here.” You smiled at her, “What about you? How long have you been here?”

“Oh, not long, just came here to start a family and live sort of mundane suburban lives you always hear are so great and perfect.” She laughed lightly to herself.

“How’d you meet Vision?” You could feel Agnes approving of your questions in your head, encouraging you to go on.

“Oh, ummm… We were friends before we got together, so I’ve known him for a while.” Agnes was getting frustrated at how vague Wanda’s answers were. “Pietro seems to have his eye on you.” Wanda pointed out Peter standing behind the kids as they were grabbing candy from a couple, watching you and Wanda closely.

“Quite literally” You chuckled.

“I’ve never seen him act the way he does with you. You… slow him down. Not in a bad way of course, but you can tell from the way he’s been acting around you, it’s like he’s scared to let you go. Like you’ll disappear. Are you sure you just met this morning?”

“Yeah, but he did talk a million miles an hour before he brought me over to your house, so I feel like I got his whole life story” You laughed, feeling Wanda’s suspiciousness suppressing for the time being.

 You took over walking with the boys for a bit while Peter tried taking a shot at getting some information out of Wanda.

“You’re very confusing.” Billy said to you.

“Why’s that?” You asked, looking down to the boy staring at you confused.

“You have a bunch of different voices in your head.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, “You can read minds like your mom?”. Great one more person you had to block your thoughts from.

Billy nodded his head in hesitation, “I think, I’m not sure. It didn’t start until just now. It’s like all of the sudden I can hear everything and it’s a lot. It kind of hurts.”

“Here, let me show you a trick” You got down to his eye level and said, “close your eyes, take a deep breath in, then out. Focus on the sound of one voice, my voice. I know you said I have a couple but pick the loudest one and stick with it. Follow it like a string. Open your eyes.” Billy did as you said, “Better?” He nodded and smiled.

“How did you know how to do that?”

“Well between you and me, I have a few tricks up my sleeve too.” You put a shushing finger over your mouth and then cut your thoughts off from him.

“I can’t hear you anymore.”

“I know, because I’m not letting you. If you want to focus on someone else you can, if it helps. Or the voice you focus on is your own. Tune the others out and just think about your own thoughts. It can be hard when you have loud thoughts around you, like your Uncle P. His thoughts are the loudest in the area. But after some practice, you’ll be a pro just like your mom.”

Billy smiled up at you as he realized just how loud Peters thoughts actually were.

 The trick-or-treating was going by pretty quick especially with Peter eventually taking over permanently and zooming around the town with the boys. You were walking with Wanda again.

“I heard you helped Billy.” Wanda said to you, “How did you know how to control the mind reading?”

“Oh, just a trick I picked up from a friend of mine.”

Wanda narrowed her eyes at you a little, “You’re lying. You’re blocking me out and hiding something. I can feel it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Really. I have a friend who can read minds and she told me how she controls it and how she focuses.”

“Then why are you shutting me out?”

“Because I don’t like people being in my head. I’ve got too much going on as it is.”

“Who are you?” Wanda stopped you and held you still with her magic.

“My name is Y/N and I’m new in town. I can promise you, I mean you and your family no harm.”

“Then show me your mind. Completely.”

You sighed and let Wanda in your mind. She saw everything, from when you got here, to your life back with the XMen, your life with Peter. The only thing she didn’t get access to were your memories of Agnes. You assumed Agnes herself put a lock and key on them in case this exact thing happened.

“So, you’re here for Pietro or Peter as you call him. I knew there was something off about you two.”

“Please, we will leave with no fuss. Just let me take him home.” You pleaded with her.

“Fine, but I doubt your teleporting power will work to get you out of here. It’s not strong enough.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be able to get out. I also possess some of your magic. The exact type of magic that will let me and Peter through safely.”

“Leave.” Wanda gave you a threatening stare, not too happy with the idea of your magic matching hers. You used Peter’s superspeed to get to him as quick as you could.

“Hey Pietro, can I interest you in a late-night stroll through the park?” You asked him, trying to stay casual.

“Why of course m’lady.” Peter stuck his elbow out for you to grab. “Why don’t you two demons catch up with your mom.”

“Ahhh, really?” Tommy whined.

“Hey, stay cool. When a pretty lady wants to take you somewhere, you follow suit.” He winked at them.

“Dad?” Billy randomly burst out in a confused tone, “Dad!” He started to panic.

“What’s wrong Billy, what do you see?” You asked him.

“I can’t tell, he’s too far away.” By now Wanda had made her way over to her freaking out child.

“Focus. Follow the string. Follow his voice.” You told him

“He’s hurt. There are a bunch of soldiers around him.”

Wanda tensed up and her eyes started glowing red.

“Relax sis, it’s not like your dead husband could die twice.” Peter said, trying to diffuse the situation, only it did the exact opposite. Wanda whipped around and shot a red blast his way.

“I said leave!” She yelled at you. You nodded your head and zoomed over to where Peter landed. He was unconscious, but you pulled him in your arms and using the combined magic of Wanda and Agnes, and your teleportation, you thought of home and pulled the two of you out of there. You were worried at first that Agnes might try to stop you since you weren’t successful in your mission to get information out of Wanda, but she didn’t stop you. You assumed it was because Wanda knew you two were not who you said you were, so you wouldn’t be helpful anyways.

 You woke up lying in your own bed at home again. For the first time, in a long time, Peter was lying next to you. He was awake already and was watching you carefully.

“How are you feeling?” He asked as he push your hair off your forehead.

“Better now that we’re home. How did I get in bed?” You specifically remember teleporting you and Peter to Charles’ office so you could tell him what happened.

“When we got back you collapsed from the effort. Charles said your mind was awake, but tired and you used too much magic and power for what you’re used to. I was so scared you killed yourself.”

You shook your head, trying to remember anything after you left Westview, but you just couldn’t, “How long have I been out?”

“About two days. I’ve been so restless, just waiting for you to open your eyes. Poor Jean, I kept finding her to read your mind and make sure you hadn’t died. You were scary still.”

“Well, I’m awake now, and you’re home with me. That’s all that matters.” You pulled his head onto your chest and started to play with his hair. He hummed in content and relaxed into your body.

“I know I just slept for two days, but do you mind if we just stay in today?” You asked him.

“We can do whatever you want.” You could feel a smile forming on his face, against your skin.

“What I want to do first though, is pee.” You rushed to the bathroom, letting Peter’s face flop into the bed as you shut the door behind you. You heard him laughing. It was so good to hear his laugh again. To feel his warmth linger on your skin, and knowing when you returned he would still be there. That’s all you’ve wanted for the past three weeks.

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