#but uh anyways. remind me of this i will inevitably forget to start drawing that

[moogghost]

idk when it'll happen bc i don't have that much free time this winter break somehow but. remind me to draw something with my los celebrating kwanzaa because i. am tired of christmas getting shoved down my throat as someone who doesn't celebrate it sorry lmao

[hajimesh]

𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙚𝙛𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩 — olympic team / fem reader

[ atsumu, sakusa, suna, kageyama, gao, bokuto, hinata, iwaizumi, oikawa ]

the stress of the first match seems to be taking a toll on the team's spirit, and you refuse to sit and watch them fail when you know you can be of help. but can you really handle all of them?

(or, where you end up having a gang bang with 8 professional volleyball players, and 1 athletic trainer)

⥅ word c. 7,928

⥅ warnings. sub reader, gang bang, foursomes, voyeurism?, fellatio, cum play, vaginal penetration, anal, unprotected sex, creampie, facial, size + stomach bulging kink, praise kink, mild degradation, double penetration, pussy job (for like, one second), double vaginal penetration, fingering, squirting, overstimulation, someone passes out, aftercare

⥅author n. brought to u thanks to this tweet + @kmorgzz​ who suggested adding iwaoi to the mix

special mention to my wife and love of my life, runa. @tsumue​ u had me laughing at 4am as i read ur comments in the google doc. i don't know what i'd do without u, tysm for beta and putting up with me for the past week ♡ 

ps. im v sorry if ur fave didn't make the cut (╥_╥) i added the ones im more familiar with, in terms of writing

if someone had told you you’d be attending the olympic games not as a spectator but as part of japan’s team, you’d have never believed them. but here you are, sitting in the same room with the most skilled players in the country as none other than their personal assistant.

“iwaizumi-san! do you think kageyama and i could pull off a quick attack right at the beginning of the set?”

“shoyo-kun, if there’s someone you’ll be doing the quick attack with it’s me,” atsumu’s eyes land on kageyama, smirking at the other setter from across the room, “right, tobio-kun?”

“you’re a disgrace.”

sakusa’s statement earns an offended scoff from the blond setter, the rest of the team rolling their eyes and sighing at the all-too-familiar scene.

“oi! we don’t have time for petty fights!”

after iwaizumi gets everyone’s attention back on him, he barely finishes explaining tomorrow’s match opponents and their plays without losing the team’s attention. he might be there to train them and make sure they’re on top of their game, but he knows when the team is lacking morale and, sadly, today’s one of those days.

the meeting is over and all of you go to the dining hall, fetching your dinner and sitting on your respective table with you right next to iwaizumi.

since you took that part-time job at the msby jackals, you quickly caught onto their small tics and tell-tale signs when something isn’t right. atsumu becomes a complete asshole which makes sakusa lose his temper sooner than usual. meanwhile, bokuto and hinata become very fidgety, often causing a bit of chaos around them as clumsiness radiates off of them.

when the national team was announced, you were offered the job as the trainer’s assistant—all thanks to the jackals who recommended you to their superiors for said position. your pay-check might say you’re just iwaizumi’s assistant, but you’re basically there to cover the needs of the entire team—all of them.

“iwa-chan!”

your head snaps to the side as a good-looking man takes the last free seat next to iwaizumi.

“aren’t you supposed to be sitting with your team?” iwaizumi asks him, taking a bite of his food while waiting for an answer.

the unknown man huffs exaggeratedly, rolling his eyes as he too starts to eat, “thought you’d miss your best friend.”

“hanamaki isn’t here.”

the stranger opens his mouth to reply, clearly offended by iwizumi’s words, when he notices you peeping at him.

“oh? hi! i think we haven’t met,” he shoots you a charming smile, bringing out his remarkably handsome features, “oikawa tooru, it’s nice to meet you.”

you introduce yourself, bowing at him and focusing back on your food.

both friends start to discuss tomorrow’s events, which inevitably brings out iwaizumi’s concern for his players.

“they seem off,” he’s playing around with the food as he stares at the players sitting in the table in front of yours, “i don’t know if i should talk to them or let them be.”

he’s clearly concerned for them, you can see it in his eyes—the doubt, wondering if he has been doing a good job with the team.

“iwaizumi-san, i-i… perhaps i could aid them this time?”

his head snaps in your direction, a mix of surprise and worry taking over his face, “no way, that’d be too much for you.”

oikawa’s eyebrows scrunch up as he observes you two but says nothing, choosing to listen attentively at you trying to convince iwaizumi while the latter sighs and reminds you that it’s not just the jackals this time.

it takes a while for iwaizumi to accept your offer, pondering the pros and cons, but he ends up accepting it; for everyone’s sakes.

“i’m lost.”

oikawa’s words make your insides flare-up, looking down at your hands in order to avoid looking at him, his curious eyes switching between his best friend and you.

iwaizumi ignores him, standing up from his seat and walking to the table in front of you with you and oikawa watching closely. the team turns to look at him, waiting for him to speak since it’s obvious it has to be something important by the severe look on his face.

“seeing as some of you are clearly out of it, our assistant here has very kindly volunteered to help you guys for tonight.”

a few heads immediately perk up, looking at you with bright eyes once you answer their silent question with a smile.

“please, be good to her. i’ll be there supervising anyways, so don’t think of trying anything funny.”

“oikawa-san! you’re coming with us, right?” hinata looks expectantly at said male, excitement clear in the redhead’s eyes, “she’s the best!”

both iwaizumi and you freeze on the spot, gauging oikawa’s reaction who only looks more confused.

“you’re welcome to join us, if you so desire,” it’s you who’s offering it this time, surprising iwaizumi and earning a worried glance from him.

oikawa can’t deny he’s dying to know what everyone’s so excited about, and after thinking about it for a few more seconds, he has made up his mind.

“shall we go, then?”

—

“alright, ground rules.”

just a handful of the team sits in the room, the ones who know what’s happening waiting eagerly for the green light while the rest wonders what the fuss is about. as much as you want to help them all, it’d be impossible; which is why iwaizumi picked the ones he thought needed the morale boost the most.

with a nod in your direction, he lets you know you’re free to speak.

“the jackals already know this,” you say and atsumu snickers from his seat, winking at you as hinata and bokuto nod excitedly, “but i’m not too strict about the entire thing.”

you can feel the pairs of curious eyes burning holes in you—trying to decipher what’s going on. so, after taking a deep breath and getting an awkward, encouraging smile from iwaizumi, you start voicing out the rules.

“please, be patient. there are so many of you and only one of me. i promise you’ll get your turn,” you give atsumu a pointed look, and this time it's sakusa who snorts while the blond setter rolls his eyes, “which brings me to the next rule, no seconds.”

a hand raises in the air, making you advert your attention to its owner. 

“i still don’t get what’s happening,” suna’s eyes narrow down at you, noticing the embarrassment and hesitation in your posture.          

“don’t worry, suna. we’ll show ya.”

“shut it, miya.”

clearing up your throat, you smile coyly at the middle blocker, “it’ll make sense once i finish explaining, suna-san.”

he shrugs but stays quiet. taking into account the jackals’ reactions plus the cryptic rules, an idea has already formed in his mind. but it couldn’t be that. right?

“uh, again, only one round. all entrances are fine,” you pause, going through the rules in your head to see if there’s anything you might be forgetting, “oh! and you’ll be paired up in teams of three to make things faster.”

“one more thing,” iwaizumi speaks up, this time looking at you instead of the awaiting men, “don’t forget to let us know how you’re doing.”

two loud claps break the tense atmosphere, “well, we should get started then,” atsumu raises from his spot and walks towards you. his hands cradle your face between them and lift it so you can face him properly, “what do ya say, princess?”

his lips land on yours before you can reply to him, a small squeal getting stuck in your throat when his hands travel down your body until he’s squeezing your ass.

you’re too caught up in the kiss to notice the new presence looming behind you.

“i’ll take your pussy before anyone can taint it with their dick.”

sakusa’s words make you shudder. you break apart from atsumu’s mouth to turn around and face him, his dark eyes alluring and drawing you towards him.

“oi, newbie,” atsumu calls out to suna who scoffs in return, “c’mere and join us.”

meanwhile, sakusa guides you to the bed, making you sit on his lap as you wait for the other two to show up. once they do, atsumu immediately settles behind you while suna stands awkwardly at the foot of the bed. it’s hard for you to read his expression since you’re not too familiar with him, so you offer him a reassuring smile and pat the spot next to you. 

the rest of the team watches from their seats as the four of you get started. 

suna lifts your chin, his eyes staring down at you before leaning down and kissing the corner of your mouth. he trails down your neck until he reaches your chest, sucking on the skin gently before running his tongue over the delicate area. in the meantime, atsumu unbuttons your blouse, taking it off and playing with your breasts while sakusa busies himself with taking your pants off.

“i get the hype, now,” suna whispers in your ear, blowing air on it and then biting down on your earlobe, making the hairs of your body rise.

his lips capture yours in a slow kiss —savoring your taste— and one of his hands goes to the back of your neck to keep you in place. his teeth play with your bottom lip, biting it softly and pulling away, his hooded eyes calculating your reaction.

“don’t get too excited, suna,” atsumu says from his spot behind you, pinching your nipples between his fingers and prompting a whine to escape your lips, “you’ll only get her mouth.”

“mhm, is that so?” suna’s question is directed towards you rather than atsumu, tilting your chin up and smirking at the dazed look in your eyes, “can’t wait to see that pretty mouth bulging with my cock, then.”

his lewd words earn a few coughs and clearing throats from the rest, which he chooses to ignore when your hand cups his growing bulge.

“enough you two, let the poor woman have a bit of pleasure too,” sakusa’s dark eyes look at you questioningly, silently asking if you’re ready to continue.

in return, you cup his face with your free hand and kiss his cheek—knowing he wouldn’t appreciate a kiss on the mouth when you just finished making out with another man.

they finish getting you out of your clothes until your bare cunt is hovering over sakusa’s lap. he’s quick to undress and ease his cock into you, suna and atsumu observing as they get rid of their clothes as well.

“fuck,” sakusa groans in your ear, the position allowing you to hide your face in his neck and wrap your arms around his shoulders, “always so tight.”

“scoot over, i need to prep her ass.”

suna snorts at atsumu’s words, pumping his cock twice before kneeling on the mattress—right next to you. he pats your cheek with the swollen head, looking down at you with a faint smirk.

“open up.”

your eyes immediately focus on his length, your mouth watering at the sight. you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, looking up at him and observing as he rests the tip on your tongue. 

“looking so pretty with a cock in your mouth,” he slowly slides in, guiding your head down until half of him is inside, “so warm.” 

a cold liquid dribbles on your backside, making you flinch forward and causing suna’s cock to slide in even more.

“relax, baby. it’s just me,” atsumu rubs the liquid on your asshole, playing with it with his finger before finally sliding it in.

your muscles contract involuntarily, making sakusa groan as he keeps still inside your pussy, waiting for you to grow used to the multiple things going on around you.

“hurry up before i start fucking her.”

a second finger slides in and you moan around suna’s cock, spit running at the corners of your mouth which reminds you to swallow. you hollow your cheeks and retract your mouth until only the tip remains inside, running your tongue over the slit and making the middle blocker shudder.

“someone’s hungry,” he muses.

you hum around him, bobbing your head back and forth and pumping the rest of his length with one hand.

“i’m gonna try get in now, okay?” atsumu taps your ass with his cock, lining it up with your asshole and thrusting in. he watches as the head of his cock finally slips in, groaning when the familiar tightness engulfs him, “that’s it, baby. doin’ so good for me.”

you have to remove your mouth from suna’s cock to avoid biting down on him, the stretch slightly more painful than pleasurable which eventually leads to you tensing up even more. 

“you gotta relax,” atsumu says under his breath, strained by the way you feel around his dick.

it takes you around a minute to calm down, taking deep breaths until you feel yourself loosen up and, with one last push, he’s finally inside.

“omi?” you say against his neck, “could you move a bit, please?”

said man grunts as he starts to move his hips, your slick helping his cock glide in, “color.”

it takes you a few seconds to understand what he meant.

“oh! uhh, green.”

atsumu’s thrusts are slow —testing the waters— since the last thing he wants is to get yelled at for being too rough, too soon. but you’re growing impatient, moving your hips backwards and trying to get more of him inside of you.

“m-more, ‘tsumu. i can take it,” you say and he immediately complies, his muscular thighs now slapping against your ass.

suna remains kneeling next to you, cock in his hand as he waits for you to bring your attention back to him. but he doesn’t have to wait too long, your hand wrapping around his cock and guiding it back into your mouth once you’ve set a steady pace with the other two men.

“thought you had forgotten about me.”

he pushes your hair out of your face, watching your lips wrap around his girth. it’s taking all of his willpower to not hold your head and fuck your face until you’re gagging around him, afraid it might be a big ‘no’ from you. and since it’s the first time he’s getting to experience this, he decides to take whatever’s given to him.

“you’re so wet,” sakusa points out as he looks down at where you two are connected, observing his cock slide in and out of your cunt, covered with your slick.

“‘course she is, she’s being stuffed by three cocks.”

“feels good…” your manage to say after releasing suna with a pop, pumping his shaft with your hand, “a-am i making you feel better?”

a hand lands on your ass, causing you to yelp and tighten your hold on suna’s cock. 

“what do ya think, hm? we’re getting our dicks wet in none other but our slutty little assistant's holes,” atsumu plays with your ass, squeezing it and humming when the imprint of his hands appears on the soft flesh.

“mhm, quite the slut you are,” sakusa whispers in your ear, kissing your neck afterwards, “as long as i get to make a mess out of that cunt of yours before anyone else, i will always enjoy these little sessions of ours.”

your eyes land on suna, waiting for him to say his thoughts on the matter.

his gaze drops to your hand, covered in his pre-cum and your spit which sends a jolt to his cock, making it throb in your hand.

“can’t say i hate it.”

you smile at his words, recognizing the challenge hidden behind them. your mouth wraps around the flushed tip, eyes closing when both sakusa and atsumu thrust up into your holes at the same time. you try to keep your hand steady as you suck suna off, but the lewd grunts and moans coming from them, plus their cocks filling you so nicely make your rhythm falter every once in a while.

a hand starts toying with your clit, causing you to moan around suna’s cock. the vibrations make him shudder, scowling at himself when he realizes his orgasm is approaching faster than he expected.

“fuck, fuck– princess? do you mind if i cum inside?” atsumu grunts.

your muscles clench at the thought of being filled with his cum, imagining the thick liquid oozing out of your sensitive holes only to stuff it back in with your fingers.

“y-yes, ‘tsumu. cum inside me,” you pant as your hands squeeze suna’s cock, pumping it faster as you notice his hips jerking towards you. you turn your face to look at sakusa, who has his eyebrows drawn upwards and his mouth open slightly as he too feels overwhelmed by the pleasure, “omi, you can cum inside as well.”

and he doesn’t need to be told twice, his large hands holding you by your hips so he can thrust his cock into your drenched cunt faster.

moans and squelching noises echo around the room. atsumu picks up his pace as he feels his orgasm approaching, his deep grunts fanning over your neck and taking over your hearing. the drag of sakusa’s pubic bone against your clit has you cumming shortly after. your head rolls forward as both men keep thrusting in and out of you, only stopping once their cum fill your clenching holes.

“shit– look at me,” suna orders you, and you barely have time to process what’s happening.

his cum lands on your face, his hand helping you pump his throbbing cock as the ropes of cum cover your skin. he exhales heavily once he’s done, brushing the flushed head of his cock over your swollen lips, and smearing the white liquid around them.

it’s silent for a few seconds, save for the heavy breathing and pants coming from your mouths.

“holy shit,” oikawa’s voice breaks the silence. his cock strains almost painfully against his pants at the sight of what awaits him.

“yeah, holy shit,” atsumu laughs off, brushing his hair out of his face with one hand as he massages the flesh of your ass with the other, “ya never disappoint, princess.”

with a grunt, the blond setter removes his softening cock from you, his honey eyes —plus a few curious ones— observing the way his cum dribbles out from your stretched hole. the same thing happens with sakusa, who lifts your hips off of him, his cock falling on his stomach and the mix of your slick and his cum dripping down on his length.

atsumu’s fingers immediately go to your cunt, pumping the juices back into you, “god, you love this. don’t you, baby?”

all you can do is whine, your hands clenching the sheets until he removes his fingers from your sensitive pussy, and stuffs them inside your mouth. 

“we all get a turn?” kageyama whispers not so discreetly to hinata, who only nods eagerly in return.

you lick atsumu’s fingers clean which earns you a radiant smile from him.

“here.”

suna has his arm outstretched, handing you a tissue so you can clean your face.

“thank you,” you take it from his hands as you climb off of sakusa’s lap.

you’re cleaning the residues of cum on your face when a hand falls on top of your head. 

“drink some water before you start the next round,” sakusa’s dark eyes suddenly seem warmer and kinder to you, patting your head before disappearing into the bathroom.

after tossing the used tissue away, you turn to iwaizumi and give him a firm nod.

“who’s next?”

your dazzling smile has the rest of the men in awe, silently praying it’s them who get to feel your body with their hands next.

“bokuto,” the wing spiker’s immediately perks up at the sound of his name, “you, kageyama, and hakuba are next.”

the three men raise from their seats and make their way towards the bed—towards you.

“hey, bo,” you offer a loving smile to him, “you ready?”

his strong arms wrap around you, kissing your cheek loudly and making you giggle, “it feels as if i’ve been waiting forever. of course, i’m ready!”

meanwhile, kageyama and gao stand at the foot of the bed, waiting for any instructions or a signal from you that could tell them when to start. luckily, you’re quick to notice their hesitation.

”is there a particular place where you want to be?” you ask them, looking specifically at kageyama and gao, since you want to make sure they feel included.

“dibs on your mouth!”

you blush at bokuto’s enthusiasm but accept his request, stroking his cheek as you wait for the other two to answer.  

“i’ll take whatever,” kageyama says and scratches the back of his neck.

“me too,” gao smiles and takes a few steps towards you, making bokuto move away from you. his large hand tucks one piece of your hair away, his eyes staring at yours before dropping to your lips, “although, i think i’d like it better if i had your pussy gripping my cock. wouldn’t you like that?”

he presses his front against yours, his erection poking at your belly which earns a small gasp from you. you have to stop yourself from taking a look at the tent in his sweatpants, trying to figure out how much of him there is hidden inside the fabric.

“o-okay.”

the middle blocker smiles at you before diving down to your lips. his hands grab your waist, lifting you up from the ground and making you wrap your legs around his torso. he gently places you down on the bed and kisses his way down your neck until his mouth is right above your erect nipple.

“hey! i want to kiss her too,” bokuto complains, “you can’t hog her like that.”

“s’okay bo, come here.”

he doesn’t have to be told twice, immediately climbing onto the bed and leaning down to kiss your lips.

you grab the back of his head and run your fingers through his soft hair, pulling on it gently which causes a groan to rumble in his chest.

a pair of hands slide over your legs, pushing them apart until your bare cunt is spread wide open for everyone to see.

“you’re dripping, babe,” gao murmurs over your nipple, giving it a light tug before flicking his tongue over it, “do you want my cock that badly?”

you can only moan and nod, your lips still busy with bokuto’s.

but there’s someone who still has yet to join you.

“tobio-chan, if you’re not going to do anything then let me take your place instead.”

oikawa’s words snap you out of your daze. you pat bokuto’s cheek signaling him to let go of you, and the same thing happens with gao as you try to sit up. your eyes fall on kageyama who stands at the same spot with a conflicted look and an obvious erection in his pants. 

“hey,” you crawl your way towards him and sit on your knees, “are you uncomfortable?”

his mouth opens but nothing comes out of it. he can feel the weight of everyone’s stare on him, making him look away from you. 

a few seconds pass and there’s still no answer.

“you don’t have to do this, you know?” you say in a small tone, slightly confused as to why he’s rejecting you, “i just thought… i could help you relax.”

he nods, still avoiding your gaze.

you take a look at iwaizumi –who looks as equally as puzzled as you– before looking back at the setter.

“do you want to leave?”

at this, his head finally snaps towards you, “no, i-” he pauses. his eyes are immediately drawn to your mouth, making him involuntarily wet his lips, “i want to stay.”

relief washes over you, a timid smile spreading on your lips which is quickly mirrored by him. you take his hand in yours and guide him to the other side of the bed, urging him to join the rest of you. there’s a hunger in his eyes that has your pussy dripping with your slick, a sigh leaving your lips when your back hits the pillows as you watch him take gao’s previous spot.

“kiss me, tobio.”

and he does. it starts slow, hesitant, but it soon turns desperate. his tongue strokes yours before sucking on it, spit coating your lips thanks to the messiness of the kiss. the strain of his cock inside his pants becomes too uncomfortable to his liking, causing him to start humping against you, trying to relieve himself.

noticing his predicament, you move your hand between your bodies and palm his hard-on. he groans against your lips, his hips jerking forward seeking more of your touch.

in the meantime, both bokuto and gao pump their cocks with their hands, having taken their clothes off while you talked to kageyama.

gao squeezes the head of his cock between his hands, pre-cum oozing from the slit as he imagines the way your cunt is going to grip him, “babe, you’re making us suffer.”

“get in line!”

“atsumu, shut the fuck up.”

“baby?” bokuto asks from where he stands, his own cock stiff and ready to be inside your mouth, “we don’t mean to be pushy, but do you think you could get to us soon?”

“bokuto-san, you’re going to break a rule!” hinata says, clearly concerned for his teammate, “be patient, remember?”

the rest of the team laughs and you can’t help but join them.

at this, bokuto pouts playfully at you, “you’re just teasing me, baby.”

“then come here,” you gasp when kageyama’s mouth sucks at the base of your neck, “y-you wanted my mouth, right?”

bokuto kneels next to your face, patting the leaking tip on your lips.

“i’m going to fuck that pretty mouth of yours and you’re going to take it like a good girl,” he says, his tone leaving no room for questions, “open.”

you comply immediately, lolling out your tongue and waiting for him to rest his heavy cock on top of it. 

the lewd sight in front of him makes bokuto shudder. his hands grasp your head, pushing you down his length until he feels your throat constricting around him.

“fuck– baby,” he grunts and gives a shallow thrust, “i know you can do better than that.”     

you try to relax your jaw so you can fit more of him inside of your mouth. but as you are about to graze your nose against his pubic bone, a finger runs between your folds causing you to flinch.

“i’m still here.”

gao’s tone sounds stern, even if a playful smile tugs his lips upwards, you can see the seriousness swirling in his eyes.

kageyama sighs and leaves your side, stepping away momentarily to take his pants off. 

the middle blocker takes it as his chance to settle between your legs as bokuto keeps your mouth busy.

“you’re drenched, sweetheart,” he muses, running his digits over your slit, “don’t worry, i’ll fill this pussy with my cock so well that you’ll be cumming in no time.”

your eyes travel to his shaft, watching as he pumps it twice before running it between your folds. your brows furrow when you notice how heavy it feels, making you wonder if it will fit in.

he lines himself up with your hole, pushing the head inside which is enough to have you whining around bokuto’s cock.

“you look so sexy,” bokuto groans, pushing your head away from him and watching your spit run down your mouth. he looks at kageyama who stands awkwardly with his cock in hand, “i guess we’re sharing her mouth.”

the setter’s eyes widen slightly before nodding, mimicking bokuto’s position and nudging his cock on your lips, “suck.”

your breath hitches at his order, caught off guard by his demanding tone. you grab his cock from the base and guide it into your mouth, pumping bokuto’s length with your other hand. you hum around kageyama, running your tongue over the head of his cock before hollowing your cheeks and sucking harshly on it. 

but your attention on them doesn’t last too long, the sudden feel of your pussy getting split open by gao’s cock taking it away.

“so tight,” he grunts, one of his hands running over the skin of your inner thigh until he reaches your soaking cunt. he pulls your folds apart, watching you struggle to take his cock inside you—no matter how wet you are, “i bet those jackals haven’t been fucking you like you deserve.”

“oi!” “not true!”

you free your mouth from kageyama and use both hands to pump his and bokuto’s cock, “s-so big, ugh-”

gao pushes more of him in, half of his cock already inserted in you. but he’s just so thick, so big, that you can’t help but clamp down your walls around him. his thumb starts rubbing circles on your clit, trying to relax your walls, as his other hand settles on your abdomen.

“you’re going to be so full of my cock that you’ll be able to see it,” he gives a gentle pat to your belly, “right here.”

your grip on the other two men tightens as gao finally bottoms out, a whine breaking through your lips at the stretch.

“if only you could see yourself,” his thrusts are lazy, mesmerized by the way your belly bulges when he pushes his cock inside you, “so fucking sexy with my fat cock inside your cunt.”

your lips wrap around the tip of bokuto’s cock once more, closing your eyes as pleasure clouds your head. he thrusts in, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag.

“good girl,” bokuto exhales, “taking my cock so well.”

you quicken the pace of your other hand, looking at kageyama as you obscenely suck bokuto.

the setter’s eyes refuse to leave yours, “who would’ve thought our assistant could be so naughty.”

“as if you’re complaining,” gao says, lifting your leg over his shoulder. the new angle allowing him to press his hips closer to yours.

“i never said i was.”

bokuto curses under his breath when you start sucking his balls, pumping the rest of his length with your hand and squeezing the head of kageyama’s cock with the other.

“you’re going to make me cum,” bokuto groans.

giggling, you lick your way up and run your tongue over the slit, “cum in my mouth.”

the sound of collective groans echoes in the room, a fair amount of players finding your words arousing.

“what a slut, let’s see if you keep talking when you’re covered in our cum.”

gao’s threat goes straight to your pussy, making you cream around his girth. the pace of his thumb on your clit quickens once he notices your walls spasming around him.

“ngh, fuck!” you’re breathing heavily by now, barely managing to keep the pace of your hands consistent, “i-i’m gonna… i’m gonna cum.”

“let go, baby.”

one of gao’s hands travels up your body until he’s pinching your nipple between his fingers.

“shit, shit, shit,” you’re thrashing underneath him, your cunt fluttering around his cock thanks to your orgasm.

kageyama’s way too focused on the way your face contorts in pleasure to notice how his hips have started to jerk faster. that is until the familiar coil suddenly snaps and his cum lands on your chin and part of your chest. 

“h-how did you get even tighter- hah!”

warm spurts of cum fill your cunt, the sense of fullness intensifying as gao frees his load inside of you.

“i’m cumming, baby. fuck, fuck–” bokuto chants your name as he too reaches his orgasm, quickly shoving his cock into your mouth and releasing his thick cum inside of it.   

you make sure to keep sucking him, milking his cock dry. once you remove your mouth from him, you bring his and kageyama’s cock closer to your face and pucker your lips, letting the mix of cum and spit fall on their cocks before giving a few kitten licks to the flushed heads.

gao starts to remove his cock from your insides, cursing at the state of your pussy once he’s finally out.

“holy fuck, she’s tightening around nothing.”

you let out a low moan when his fingers spread your lower lips, “t-too sensitive.”

“i think that’s enough,” iwaizumi intervenes, pushing him away, “color?”

“yellow,” but you continue as soon as you see his face become stern, “relax, i just need to calm down a bit.”

kageyama offers you a towel before awkwardly thanking you for your help. and after receiving a kiss on the forehead from bokuto, the three of them leave to go clean themselves.

“iwa-chan, why don’t you give her a massage?”

you let your body fall on the mattress, extending your arms above your head and moaning at the stretch.

“mm, that’d be nice.”

iwaizumi rolls his eyes playfully when he sees you pouting at him, “get on your stomach, i’ll be right back.”

in the meantime, oikawa and hinata take the spots next to you, eager to finally have their turn with you.

“you’re so pretty,” oikawa runs his hands over the skin of your shoulders, “those idiots are lucky to have you.”

your eyes start closing up, focusing on the feel of his fingers on your skin and making goosebumps appear all over your body.

“shoyo, we should help her relax too. don’t you think?”

you catch the suggestive tone in his voice, but his touch feels so good that you choose to ignore it.

both men start caressing your body, hinata’s hands paying special attention to your shoulders while oikawa pets your hair, murmuring sweet nothings. 

“you ready?” iwaizumi pops back into the room, a bottle of oil and a clean towel in his hands.

“mhm.”

the towel rests on your ass, iwaizumi’s warm hands spreading the oil on your back and rubbing at the sore muscles.

“does that feel good, princess?” oikawa asks when he hears you sigh. you are about to reply when iwaizumi hits a sore spot, a groan slipping past your lips and making the setter chuckle, “can you tell me your color now?”

“green.”

oikawa looks at iwaizumi and both men seem to communicate through their eyes, the latter smirking before going back to work.

at first, you don’t pay too much attention to his movements, choosing to focus on the pleasure. but then you notice how his hands seem to ghost lower and lower until he’s kneading your ass, the towel long forgotten.

before you can comment on it, he moves them to your thighs, massaging the soft flesh. it all goes back to normal –or so you think– until his hands reach higher and his digits start grazing your slit.

“hajime…”

“shh,” oikawa coos in your ear, pushing your hair out of your face and kissing your temple, “let him take care of you.”

iwaizumi inserts one finger inside your pussy, curling it until he’s teasing the spongy walls.

whines escape your mouth, your hands gripping the bedsheets which are quickly replaced by hinata’s hands.

“so cute.”

another finger slips in and makes you open your eyes, looking at oikawa helplessly, “o-oikawa-san-”

“tooru,” he interrupts you.

“tooru,” you try his name and he hums, letting you know he’s listening, “could you… uh, k-kiss me?”

“of course, princess.”

he leans down to capture your lips, swallowing your moans when iwaizumi curls both fingers and massages your spot. 

you open your legs, allowing iwaizumi to finger you better as you rut your hips on the mattress, rubbing your clit against the fabric of the sheets and chasing after your orgasm.

“iwa– faster, please.”

he complies immediately, causing wetness to gush out of your cunt and making the distinctive squelching sounds fill the room.

“i’m gonna– ah! i’m c-cumming!” 

“cum for me,” he encourages you, and that’s all you need.

you gush around his fingers, your slick coating them as you squirm under the gaze of the three men.

hinata tugs at your hand, pulling you underneath him and kissing you sloppily. you gasp on his mouth, caught off guard by the sudden movement but quickly melting into the kiss.

he blushes once he pulls away, “s-sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

“it’s okay, shoyo,” you breathe out, caressing his cheek, “want me to help you?”

he beams at your offer, nodding eagerly as he watches you climb on top of him. you straddle his hips and run your cunt over his cock, shivering when his length grazes your clit.

“do you want me to ride you?” you whisper, playing with his hair. 

“wait- i think i have a better idea.”

hinata lifts you from his lap and moves until he’s sitting on the edge of the mattress. he pushes your hips with his hands, turning you around so you’re facing away from him. 

“you can sit on my lap now.”

your ass rests right on top of his cock, but he hooks his arms on your knees, spreading you open, as he lets himself fall back on the mattress.

“what are you–”

“oikawa-san, doesn’t this remind you of something?”

said man laughs, “how could i forget? we had quite some fun back in brazil, huh?”

you’re visibly confused, looking at oikawa with furrowed brows, “what do you want to do?”

“say, princess,” his tone suddenly sounds too sweet for your liking, “have you ever had two cocks in one hole?”

your eyes widen, looking back and forth between oikawa and iwaizumi—who has ridden himself of his clothes and sits next to you, his thick cock in his hand.

“i’ll take that as a no.”

“can we do that?” hinata asks from behind you, his breath fanning on your ear, “we’ll be gentle.”

“there’s literally another free hole for you to use!” someone yells, clearly annoyed they didn’t get the chance to do it.

oikawa clicks his tongue, “where’s the fun in that?”

after taking a minute to think it through, you agree to their offer, “okay… uh- iwa?” you turn to look at him, “what about you?”

seeing as there’s no room for him to take your ass, his eyes land on your mouth. and with two taps of his finger on your cheek, he lets you know his decision.

“think you can suck me off?”

they’re all given the green light when you answer his question. hinata raises you from his lap, aligning his cock with your entrance before letting your weight fall on top of it. you groan at the familiar thickness stretching you nicely, missing the flash of hunger in the setter’s eyes.  

“my turn.”

oikawa presses the tip on your entrance, pushing forward and making room for his own cock.

the burn of having two cocks in one hole is new to you, but it’s surprisingly more pleasurable than you thought it’d be. you lift your eyes to look at oikawa, his gaze already locked on you, and you feel your pussy cream around their cocks at the lust in his eyes.

“enjoying yourself, princess?”

you moan when he bottoms out, watching the muscles of his abdomen contract and feeling his cock pulsing inside of you.

the thrill of being stretched by two cocks, at the same time, has your head spinning; your thoughts becoming lewd as you picture both men cumming inside you and globs of cum dripping from your abused hole.

“oikawa-san, did you feel that?” hinata asks. half-amused, half excited, “she’s squeezing us so well.”

“naughty, princess,” the setter grunts, “don’t forget about iwa-chan.”

you turn your head to face him, catching the irritated look he sends oikawa before looking down at you.

iwaizumi’s eyes immediately soften, but a smirk slowly tugs at the corners of his lips, “you seem busy.”

“there’s always room for japan’s national team athletic trainer.”

he can’t help but laugh, shaking his head at the silly title. he raises from his seat and settles himself above you, his cock hovering on your face and making your mouth water.

“whenever you’re ready.”

you don’t need to be told twice. grasping his thick cock with your hand, you lean forward and flick your tongue on the head, looking at him through your lashes with faux innocence.

“start moving,” iwaizumi hisses, the words directed at the other two men, “seems like she needs a little reminder of who’s in charge right now.”

oikawa and hinata look at each other with smirks on their lips. as hinata said earlier, they’ve been in this position before, so there’s no need for words between them since they both know what’s coming next.

hinata moves his head slightly to the side, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder and, at the same time, granting him the view of your cunt being filled with their cocks.

“look at her, oikawa-san” his eyes are locked on your pussy, captivated by the way you suck them in, “she looks so pretty with two cocks splitting her open.”

hinata’s lewd words prompt you to involuntarily moan, the vibrations landing on iwaizumi’s cock.  

“hmm, you like it when you’re reduced to nothing but a slut. don’t you?”

you blink up at iwaizumi as you keep bobbing your head up and down his shaft, opting to hum to let him know you’re not ignoring him.

but his words catch someone else’s attention.

“is that true?” oikawa asks, amusement clear in his voice, “you like being reminded you’re a whore? how much of a greedy slut you are by fucking an entire volleyball team?”

you’re speechless, his words –matched with his and hinata’s harsh thrusts– causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

“answer me.”

oikawa’s hand wraps around your throat, barely applying any pleasure but it’s enough to send your mind into a frenzy.

after releasing iwaizumi’s cock from your mouth, you take a second to swallow down your spit before answering him.

“y-yes, tooru. i like being treated like a slut.”

his eyes sparkle with mischief, pleased by your words.

“good, because that’s how you’re going to be treated from now on.”

a hand travels to your throbbing clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive nub.

“s-shoyo!”

“shh, it’ll make you feel good.”

something wet slaps against your cheek, “don’t get distracted.”

you nod and go back to sucking iwaizumi off, moaning every time hinata or oikawa hit a spot inside your cunt. you dare take a look at where your body connects with both men, and you catch yourself becoming entranced by the way their cocks slide in and out of your pussy so easily.

you are familiar with hinata’s cock, but it’s nice to see the contrast between the two of them. while hinata’s length is thick and veiny, oikawa’s leans towards the slimmer side—but still with a considerable length. either way, both men manage to hit those sweet spots inside you and make you see stars. 

“shit– princess,” oikawa falters a bit when he feels your walls fluttering around him.

“we can cum inside you, right?” hinata asks, sensing his orgasm approaching. after all, he had been waiting for his turn for around an hour.

you pull away from iwaizumi, a string of spit connecting your lips with his cock and causing it to twitch at the sight.

“you can cum wherever you want.”

“oh? the team’s cocksleeve,” oikawa adds, “i see.”

iwaizumi chuckles, combing your hair out of your face and pushing his cock back into the warmth of your mouth, “you like that nickname, sweetheart?”

with his length still in your mouth, you manage to hum in affirmation.

hinata’s pace on your clit quickens as his hips jerk faster, your cunt squeezing their cocks even more in return, “i’m cumming, ah– i-i’m gonna cum!”

he manages to say before you feel him twitch inside you, pumping his cum into your walls. the fullness plus his rapid movements on your clit cause the familiar warmth to take over your body. but it’s your fourth orgasm of the night, and before you can warn anyone, liquid spurts out of your cunt.

you squirm on top of hinata, gushing around his and oikawa’s cock while your mouth remains occupied with iwaizumi’s.

“holy shit.”

both oikawa and iwaizumi cum at the sight of you squirting before them, observing the wetness soaking oikawa’s abdomen and running all the way down onto the bedsheets. they groan as they feel their load releasing into you, oikawa filling your tender cunt while iwaizumi fills your mouth.

you try to swallow a bit of iwaizumi’s cum but it’s useless. your chest heaves in exhaustion, your eyes closing involuntarily as you’re being hit with wave after wave of fatigue.

“hey,” oikawa winces when he removes his cock from you. he shoots a worried glance at iwaizumi before he’s leaning forward so he can take a closer look at you, “princess? how are you feeling?”

iwaizumi nudges hinata with his knee, wordlessly telling him to let go of you.

the following moments become a foggy mess, your mind barely registering the pair of arms wrapping around you and carrying you somewhere else.

all you can feel is tiredness, and the dampness between your thighs, before you finally pass out.

—

consciousness slowly makes its way to you, replacing the sleepiness and making you aware of your surroundings as a familiar soreness sits heavy on your body.

in an instant, flashbacks from the previous night run through your mind.

you grip the duvet and push it away from you, only to notice the set of clothes you’re wearing: an oversized hoodie and a pair of sweatpants that clearly don’t belong to you. but you don’t have time to dwell on it, the sound of your ringtone blasting all over the room and making you scramble around the bed so you can answer the call.

but it’s of no use when it goes to voicemail—you were a bit too late.

when you manage to find your phone, you tap on the screen to see whose call you just missed.

‘hajime’

your fingertips hover on the contact name, debating between returning the call or wait for him to call you again. but a few notifications pop up at the top of the screen signaling you have three text messages from him.

hey, i guess you’re still asleep. don’t freak out when you wake up, you deserve the rest so it’s okay if you stay in bed. i left your breakfast on the nightstand and you can always call me if you need anything else.

and i thought you’d like to see this.

there’s a link attached at the end of the message.

you click on it and wait for the page to load, tapping your nails on the back of your phone anxiously. a headline in big bold letters takes over the screen and you have to stop yourself from squealing.

‘japan men’s volleyball team makes it past the first round.’

you start scrolling down the article, reading how spectacular the match was and how the entire team seemed to be in their best shape. you feel your face heat up when you read the argentinian team won their match too, with multiple comments praising oikawa’s performance.

with a smile on your lips, you go back to your messages to type a quick reply to iwaizumi. only to notice you have one more text from him.

it’s our turn to take care of you.

[absoloutenonsense]

Hiiiiii

Hope you're doing well<3333

Can we get a new snippet pleaseeeee 🥺👉👈

On literally anything you're working on, I'm kinda craving the content!! 💖

Craving content from me??? 🥺💖 That's very lovely, absolutely you can get a snippet. Anyone want to get to know Au Pair Louis a bit better?

*

“How did you get into painting?” Harry asks him when he sits back down. 

Louis lets out a quiet laugh at that. “I think I was always going to get into painting.” 

Harry raises his eyebrows and gestures for him to continue.

“Right so,” Louis says. “I got into mischief a lot when I was a kid. Nothing truly terrible, but you know, I was unsupervised a lot, and the oldest, so I got into some things I wasn’t supposed to get into. My mum tried all sorts of stuff to keep me engaged at home so I wouldn’t go out and mess about with me mates, and-- What? What are you looking at me like that for?”

Harry’s grin widened. “Nothing. You just sounded very British there.”

“I am British,” Louis says, sounding confused and mildly offended. 

“I know! You just… you sound so French a lot of the time, sometimes I just forget.”

“Hm,” Louis hums, like he’s trying to decide if he should still be offended by that statement. He must decide not to be because he nods. “I think I told you before, I spent my summers with my grandparents a little ways South. And I’ve lived here full time for five years, so I’ve got a lot of that in my accent now.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Harry’s quick to say. “I like it. Reminds me of home.”

“Oh,” Louis says. Looking down at his lap, he clears his throat. 

“Anyway, sorry, continue.”

“Right. So, uh, there was this after school program when I was about twelve or thirteen, and you could do football or arts or other stuff I don’t remember. I was going to do football, at first, but then a girl I had a crush on was doing art, so I decided to go with that, figuring I could switch out in a couple of weeks once I got my flirting in and she knew who I was.”

Harry smiles, picturing a tiny Louis flirting with a girl while they both drew love hearts.

“But the teacher, Mrs. Curran, she was just so lovely and let us go to whichever kind of art we wanted. When I picked up the paints, she sat with me for a while, talking me through how to mix colours, and layering, and perspective. I got hooked on seeing things come to life out of nothing. We couldn’t really afford canvases and paints and fancy brushes for me to have at home, but Mrs. Curran let me use the school’s supplies when I wanted.”

“That’s lovely,” Harry says. 

Louis nods. “Then it was like I started seeing a calling towards art everywhere. My nan took me to the art museum in London and I spent hours and hours just staring at the paintings. Documentaries on telly about famous artists seemed to be on more frequently. I saw brighter colours that I wanted to capture. It felt inevitable.”

Harry watches the soft smile on Louis’ face as he looks off to the side. Quiet passion and love for something you get to do and create. Harry understands that. 

“When I got my first job, I started buying all this paint and a few canvases. I painted over them quite a few times so I could have new space to work on, but I heard the renaissance lads did it all the time.” Louis winks at him. Harry feels a thrill run up his spine and automatically sits forward more. “When I graduated, instead of going to uni, I came to Paris and took a couple of art courses. That’s how I met Zayn. We worked side jobs for enough money to pay for our rent and food and wine and spent all the extra time drawing and painting. I watched people a lot. Not in a creepy way, just... “ He pauses, like he’s trying to find the words. “People express so much when they’re just being themselves, going about their day like normal. I became really captivated by those expressions. I’d draw them while I was out and then rush home to paint them.”

There’s so much excitement and light in his eyes. 

“What happened?” Harry asks, even if something in his gut is telling him he shouldn’t. 

Louis shrugs and swirls the wine in his glass again. “Scraping by and living off my art got hard, so I looked for better paying jobs and those took up more of my time. I tried to get work teaching art to kids, which was great for a while -- combining two things I love a whole lot. Eventually that got hard to manage too. I wasn’t doing much of my own painting because I had made it my job and not in a fun way. I still loved working with kids so I thought I’d try my hand at being an au pair. Figured I could teach a few French kids English.” He smirks at Harry. “Ended up being the opposite, but still worked out in my favour, I think.”

Harry holds his glass with both hands. “Am I holding you back from your passion?” he asks. 

Louis snorts and puts his wine glass down to grab both of Harry’s hands and the glass. His fingers feel a little cold to the touch against his own. “No, ma moitié, absolutely not. You’re the only person in the world who would ask if his employee was being held back from his art by the job.”

Harry hates that phrasing. Hates that Louis thinks of Harry’s as his boss, even if it’s technically true. It doesn’t feel true. It feels like Louis is family and nothing less.

“I’m just saying we could hire some extra help so you can do more of what you love.”

Louis’ eyes shine and his face looks so fond, it almost makes Harry forget what they’re talking about. He’s so beautiful. 

“I’m the help. And I love this job very much. You give me time off whenever I ask for it--”

“Which is never,” Harry interrupts. 

Louis ignores him. “I don’t pay for a single thing, and get to live in this beautiful house--”

“That was always a part of the role.” 

“Shh,” Louis giggles. “You’re not letting me talk.”

“Sorry,” Harry says sulkily. Louis rubs his thumbs along the edges of his fingers. 

“I never want for anything here. It feels like a dream to be able to do this every day. Wake up in this house, spend time with and teach three of the brightest, most amazing girls I’ve ever met in my life.” He squeezes Harry’s hands to emphasize his points. “I have time to paint on my days off, and it seems like a new stack of canvases mysteriously appears outside of my bedroom door every couple of months.”

Harry tries hard not to blush at that. It’s not that he thought Louis wouldn’t notice --he hoped he would, actually, and that would remind him how important he was to everyone in the house-- but it feels different being on a list of very good things that make him like their situation. 

“Even when it’s hard,” Louis says, sliding his hands up a little to hold Harry’s wrists and part of his forearms. “I know I get to be here with all of you. I love the girls so much and I love--” he stops abruptly, blinking a little fast. He speaks slower as he says, “I love it here. There’s hardly anything else I could ask for.”

Harry wants to kiss him more than anything in the world. 

Louis pulls his hands away, running one of them through his hair and looking towards the oven. “Short rib is probably almost done. Let me check.”

He stands and Harry gently grabs his elbow until he looks at him. “If there is anything,” Harry says. “I’ll give it to you.”

Louis looks very sad then. “Ma moitié,” he starts. But then he’s interrupted by beeping of the timer. He looks behind him and lets out a shaky sigh. He turns back with a smile Harry sees often, one that doesn’t quite seem bright enough to be genuine. Louis pats Harry’s hand lightly and Harry lets go. They pull away from each other as Louis says, “Do you want more wine with dinner?”

It takes too long for Harry to answer. “I think I’ll just have water.”

“Good,” Louis says, pulling on the oven mits. “Yes, me too.”

[kate837]

I Love You

I completely recommend watching 2x14 Borrow or Rob, and the beginning of 2x15 Draw O Cesar Erase a Coward, before reading this fic. While this fic is AU it does have many similarities and minor details that it couldn't hurt to watch the episode first! Anyways enjoy!!!!!

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Kurt had a day.

Not bad. Definitely not good. Just... A day.

A day he'll never forget actually. It was so full of ups and downs. From Shepherd plunging a knife into Sean's heart, to joking with Jane about whether or not he could handle Rich Dotcom. From shooting Rich to... Jane's date. That hurt. When Shepherd shoved a knife through Sean Clarke, Kurt's adrenaline spiked, he felt so alert for so long, he thought he would throw up. He got the same feeling from Jane. Except it was everytime she moved, spoke, brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, etc. Her admission of her date was too much. Kurt went straight home, got a damp rag, and laid down. Staring at the ceiling.

Though he did have to say, it still wasn't the worst part of his day. He felt bad. Witnessing first degree murder should automatically be the worst part of your day.

But when it comes to Rich.....

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

Kurt and Rich were sneaking through the secret underground tunnels of Jamison College, in order to get into the Deadalus gathering.

"This is interesting." Rich says, while coming to a stop.

"What?" Kurt replies shortly.

"Well this is the door, but the handle's different."

"Different how, Rich?!"

"Wel- well it's not there anymore?? Probably on account of all the hookers I snuck in it." Rich gestures to the handless door.

"Ok, so what's behind this door?" Kurt inquires, looking around.

"The closet. What are yo-"

"Stand back."

Kurt, with a running start, kicks the door in to find himself deep within the walls of a massive walk in closet.

"Aaaaa just how I remember it."

"SHHHHH!" Kurt puts his ear to the door, the one still on it's hinges, just in time to hear the gasps of attending guests and a soft female voice hushedly asking someone to notify security of the discrepancy.

"Shit."

"What?" Rich asks, genuinely confused.

"The guests are getting security to come check out 'the noise in the closet'."

"Oh. What are we gonna do Stubbles? I'm a sly guy but how do we explain that?"

"Oh God, why do you hate me?" Kurt says looking towards the ceiling.

"What? You're acting strange Stubbles, like weirder than normal. I mea-"

Rich was cut off by Kurt's large hands cupping both sides of his face, to kiss him. Without separating he backs Rich against a near wall, mimicking the earlier noise. Rich squirmed at first but expectedly went along with the unexpected.

"Come on Stubbles, you can at least use some tongue!"

"Shut. Up." Kurt snarls. "Actually. . . I need you to make some. . . noises." Kurt says while blushing furiously.

"Security is on their way." Tasha notifies through comms.

"Yeah you guys better get out of there." Reade warns.

"And say what? Oh hey haven't seen you in a while, please excuse my entering through a closet?!" Rich whisper-yells.

"Everyone shut up!" Kurt also whisper yells. "Now Rich I need you to moan a lot. Loudly."

"You could always make me Stubbles!"

"Rich!"

"Kurt what the hell are you doing?" Reade asks, growing increasingly concerned about his teammate's mental health.

"Rich just do it!"

"OOOOH! STUBBLES, YES!" Rich practically screams.

The party guests turn a side eye. But the security, like Kurt hoped, were turning away, figuring that the noise came from two enthusiastic partygoers. Or if the other patrons were anything like Rich maybe more.

Of course Weller didn't know that yet.

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

"Ohhh. Now i get it, I can't believe this is working." Reade says, half laughing at the ridiculous noises coming out of his earpiece. "Hey Kurt it's work-"

"Will you shut up?!" Tasha butts in.

"What are you tal-"

"He doesn't know that they stood down yet." Tasha says wriggling her eyebrows. "Hey Kurt most of the security guards stood down but you still have a couple incoming. . . You might need to amp it up a bit!"

Her and Reade try and fail to stifle their laughter after Rich let's out a completely overexaggerated 'UNGH'!

"Come on Stubbles, they're not buying it, you're gonna have to join me if you wanna get out of here."

"Why me? God why me?" Kurt says again looking up.

Kurt let's out a loud and breathless 'Oh God' that completely undoes all of Tasha and Reade's composure. They are hysterical by now. They completely lost it when Rich and Kurt started harmonizing!

"Stop! Stop!" Tasha said. "I can't take it anymore." She pulls herself up from the floor of the van, where she fell from laughing so hard.

"Yeah guys, the security's gone. They're long gone." Reade adds, clutching his stomach.

"Yeah Rich so goo- wait what?!"

"Yeah you're clear." Tasha clarifies.

"You could have compromised this entire op!" Kurt says furiously.

"We all know that's not why you're mad Stubbles. And as the bible states-"

"I swear to God Rich, if you say another word I will shoot you."

"Another word."

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Kurt flushed red just thinking about it. What was he going to put in his field report?!

He turned to lay on his side to take in the fresh scenery of the wall instead of the ceiling. After laying there for about two minutes, he finally got up to fix himself dinner.

While gathering ingredients, Kurt's mind inevitably wandered back to Jane's date. Everything about it tore at him. What she'd be wearing, what she'd eat, would she cover her tattoos, would she wear makeup. . . . . . . .

His thoughts were interrupted by a phone call.

It was Jane.

A million questions ran through his head. Why is she calling him? Shouldn't she still be out on her date?

He lunged for the phone but then. . . He stilled. Didn't move a muscle. He picked up his phone, turned it over, and resumed gathering ingredients.

Once the phone eventually stopped buzzing, Kurt's inner turmoil came to play.

'Why didn't you answer?! Jane could be in trouble!'

'Be rational Kurt. She's on a date, probably just calling to let you know that she'll complete her paperwork tomorrow, since she's busy.'

'Look, everyone knows you're in love with her, but you can't act like some overprotective boyfriend whenever she's around.'

Kurt shakes his head. He wasn't in love with Jane Doe. Was he?

'Of course you are! That's why you lunged for the phone as soon as you saw her name, but put it down when you realized she was still on a date.'

'No. If I was in love with her, I would have immediately answered.'

'No. You love her so much that you realized that if she's having fun, even with another man, you wouldn't want to ruin that. That's love.'

'What am I supposed to do? I can't love her from afar.'

'This may be selfish but what if I proposed the idea that Oliver is Sandstorm?'

'It could work. But why not just tell her how you feel?'

"Because I'm just not ready yet." Kurt voiced sadly.

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

First thing the next morning, Kurt was walking up and down the hallways, over and over again. In order to 'accidentally' bump into Jane on her way to Patterson's lab.

After three consecutive minutes, Jane appeared. She was wearing this loose, pastel green shirt, that roughly covered all of her upper body tattoos as well as bringing out her eyes. She paired it with tight blue jeans, which she almost never wears, and a few silver rings on her right hand.

"Wow." Kurt whispered. What looked like any other outfit, looked stunning on her. He almost forgot to 'bump' into her.

"Jane!"

"Oh, hey!"

"You get Patterson's text yet?"

"Yeah, heading there now."

They walk in silence for a few heartbeats, until they turn into a secluded hallway.

"Jane wait." Kurt says while gently grabbing Jane's arm.

"Kurt, what is it?"

"After you told me last night, about your date. I started thinking. . ."

Jane subconsciously starts to hold her breath. Her expression wreaks of hope.

"Hey! Glad I found you two, Patterson's got something." Tasha pops in.

"Yeah." Kurt says releasing Jane.

Saved by the bell.

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

The debrief, while no longer than usual, felt unbearably long. The charged energy from Kurt and Jane's previous conversation still radiated off of them.

While any hope of continuing it was completely shut down by the tattoo clues pointing to three different entities, causing the team to split up completely. Kurt with Roman, Jane with Tasha, and Patterson with Reade.

This was going to be a longgg day.

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

The team finally reconvened at about 5pm. They had just finished the field reports. All three of them. It was exhausting.

Fortunately for Kurt his adrenaline spiked right back up about an hour later when Tasha, so graciously, reminded the group that they never filled out the field report for their Deadalus mission. Which caused Reade and Patterson to burst out into a fit of giggles.

"What's so funny?" Jane asked, looking to Kurt, smiling.

Kurt goes wide-eyed. She doesn't know.

This was going to be a long night.

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

The team had just finished catching Jane up while writing the 'going to be extremely redacted' field report.

"Wait I'm still confused. If you just wanted Rich to moan, why did you kiss him?"

All eyes look to Kurt.

"We- well I was under the impression that security was going to be charging through the door at any second." He says glaring at the pair of agents who were strategically avoiding his gaze. "And when they did, if they saw us. . . you know-"

"We don't know, Weller!" Patterson howled.

Kurt glared.

"Yeah I kind of want to know how far you were willing to take it Assistant Director!" Reade joined in.

"We're done here." Kurt said as he walked out.

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

Jane had just walked out of the locker room to be met head on with Kurt.

"Kurt, hey!" Jane says, surprised.

"Hey."

"Umm. . . I actually wanted to talk to you."

Kurt raises his eyebrows in obvious confusion, cueing Jane to continue.

"When we were. . . Uh you know- outside of P- Patterson's lab. You didn't finish." Jane stumbles through her words as a new wave of nervousness hits her with full force.

"Oh that." Kurt says, grabbing Jane's arm, mirroring his earlier gesture and leading her away from the locker room door.

"Jane, I was up all night and I couldn't stop thinking about it. We need to be careful. Sandstorm feels like it's everywhere."

"You think Oliver is Sandstorm?"

"Yes. . . No." Kurt shakes his head.

"Kurt you're not making any sense." Jane says studying him.

"I know. I know. I just- no I don't think he's Sandstorm."

"Then why did you-"

"I've been trying to come up with reasons of why you shouldn't date him for the better part of 13 hours."

"Kurt wha-"

"And I got nothing, because the only reason is that I love you."

Jane goes wide-eyed. It was as if all the air was sucked out of her.

"I love you Jane."

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[soopersara]

Awkward

Another year-late oneshot? Yes. Gotta clean out the backlog before I can start on anything new, I guess. (To be fair, though, this is the third prompt off of this anon’s list that I’ve filled, so... it’s just the first one I’m filling specifically for them. Oh, and Tumblr ate the ask because it’s the worst.)

AO3 | FFN 

Zuko knows that Katara is worried about the upcoming comet, so he does his best to cheer her up.

He lets out a slow breath. He isn't sure why he's doing this. He wants to cheer her up, but surely there are other ways—better ways, less humiliating ways to do it than this. But Zuko has never been very good at plans, and this is the only idea he can think of. It will have to do for now.

He finds Katara exactly where he left her, legs curled up to her chest and staring into the darkness out the window. She looks small right now, small and uncertain.

He would do anything to change that. That's why he's here, he reminds himself. This is for her.

That doesn't make it any easier to begin.

"You're still up?" he asks.

Katara looks up, startled, then gives him a small, faint smile. "Yeah. Just—a lot to think about, I guess."

She curls inward again, and Zuko ventures a little closer.

"Worried?"

She nods. "Aren't you?"

He is. He has been worried for ages now, almost for as long as he can remember. He isn't sure he remembers what it feels like to not be worried. But Katara—he isn't sure why, but it stings to see her so consumed with worry. Even though he knows the reason for it. Even though he feels the same.

"I brought something."

She cocks her head to the side and her eyebrows raise. By the dim light of the lamp on the table in front of her, she is illuminated in shades of copper and gold.

"Is 'something' the scientific term? It sounds very specific."

His face flames, and he forgets what he planned to say. He produces the broad, flat box from behind his back and drops it beside the lamp.

"Here. Uh—" The words refuse to come back, and he turns to leave.

"Zuko, wait." Her voice is soft, just a little hesitant, and it pulls him to a halt. "Could you stay for a little while? I can already tell it's going to be a really long night."

He turns back. Of course. For her, of course he'll stay.

"Besides," she adds, smiling. "You can't just bring a box in here and not tell me what's inside."

On second thought, maybe he doesn't want to stay. This was a stupid idea. She's worried about the comet, and about Aang—about all of the innumerable ways their lives could change or end in the next few days. Silly distractions aren't going to help. And if she opens that box, she's going to know what kind of an idiot he is.

But he's quickly losing all ability and desire to tell her no. Especially now. When they're all fighting to keep from falling apart, he doesn't want to refuse her anything. Even if it makes him look like an idiot.

Honesty, he decides, is the best option. He can't force himself to leave her alone—he doesn't want to leave her alone, so he'll just tell her the truth. That the box is nothing worth her concern. That he's more than happy to talk to her, or to listen, or to sit in silence for the whole length of the night if she forgets about the box.

"That," he begins, rounding the table to take a seat on one of the cushions beside her, "is a stupid idea I had. It's nothing. Really."

"I don't think you have stupid ideas, Zuko."

His face heats as he settles in.

"At least not recently," she amends.

"I broke my less-stupid streak," he says, staring out the window along with her. "Sorry. It's nothing. I should have left the box where it was."

Katara's curiosity isn't so easily satisfied, and she leans forward, resting a hand on the cover. "Can I be the judge of that?"

Zuko swallows. "I guess so."

This is going to be humiliating.

He looks away, but from the corner of his eye—his good eye, the one that can see her all too clearly on the periphery—he watches her hands lift up the lid and push aside the fabric wrapping inside. Zuko clenches his fists, bracing himself for the inevitable awkwardness, and Katara's hands trail delicately along the edges of the box.

"What's this?" she asks, her voice quiet and almost breathless. She lifts out the first portrait and holds it at an angle to take advantage of the lamplight.

"It's—my family. When I was younger. Since you went looking for pictures, I thought—"

"I wasn't looking for them!" Her words come in a rush, and when Zuko turns her way, he thinks she might be blushing. He envies how subtle her blushing is. "I told you guys. I was just looking for cooking pots."

Though he can't bring himself to look at the portrait, or at her, he can't keep the smile from creeping slowly over his face. "Right. Of course that's why you ended up on the other side of the attic with all the portraits. When the kitchen is already full of cooking pots."

"Shut up." She nudges him, but the smile is evident in her voice.

"Anyway." Zuko shifts uncomfortably."Since you found the wrong baby pictures, I thought you might want to see the right ones."

"You thought right." She reaches toward him, her hand brushing against his. "But come on, Zuko. You have to at least tell me who everyone is. Here." She leans back, the portrait in her hand, and her head comes within a few inches of resting on his shoulder. "You have to be in this one, right?"

He takes a deep breath before he nods. "Right there. I must have been two or three in this one." He tries not to look too long or too hard, but the image is already burned into his mind so well that he could draw it from memory.

"Awww." Katara's voice softens, and she leans even closer, pulling the box onto her lap. "So that must be your sister—who's the older boy?"

He looks at the portrait again, at the sleeping infant in a little basket on the ground and the squirming toddler held around the middle by a boy with a gap-toothed smile. "My cousin, Lu Ten."

She nods, and her fingertip trails over the image of tiny Zuko. A soft, placid smile settles on her face, and after a minute, she pulls out the next one. "This is you too?"

In this one, Zuko is a little older, probably four or five, and crouched over a tidepool, small hands outstretched for something just beneath the rippling surface. He nods. He remembers that day. He remembers being that small and curious, full of eager questions that his mother was always willing to answer.

He clears his throat. "I kept asking my mother questions about all the things moving around in the tidepools. She was telling me all the names of the fish and the crabs and snails—" he trailed off for a second. "And after that, we collected seashells all afternoon and she helped me figure out what they used to be."

He feels Katara's gaze on him, warm and soothing. "That sounds nice." Her voice is barely more than a breath, and he can feel the slight heat from her cheek bridging the gap to his shoulder. She pulls her eyes away and looks at the portrait again. "Do you still remember all of their names?"

"I—I'm not sure. It's been a long time." He remembers some of them. The soot-tipped snails and the little colorful lilypetal fish—he can't think of any of the others right now, not with Katara's head hovering so close to his shoulder.

"You're going to have to tell me all about them when this is all over," Katara says quietly.

Right. When this is over. Just a few more days now. He tries not to think about what that will look like—what could go wrong in the meantime.

Instead, he only nods. He can't linger on that. He is meant to be cheering up Katara. That's more important right now. Even if his face burns and his stomach ties itself into knots with each new portrait she looks at.

Katara pores over the pictures one at a time, examining them all, asking questions like she's thirsty for every tiny detail she can glean from his past.

Zuko doesn't know exactly how he feels about that. No one has ever really been this curious about him before, so excited to know more about him. Usually, no one digs any deeper.

With anyone else, he might think that there is malice beneath the surface of her interest, that she wants to know him so that she can cut through him with less resistance. That's been his experience with most people. But Katara—there is something in the softness of her voice, the wide-eyed wonder as she looks over his memories that softens him as well. He is still wary. He isn't sure that he'll ever reach a point when wariness isn't his first response. But he tries to trust her. Though his insides quiver a little in anticipation every time she begins another question, he does his best to answer. He stumbles over his words and forgets what he's trying to say, but Katara doesn't seem to notice. Or if she does, she doesn't react.

At long last, she reaches the last portrait in the stack and pulls it into her lap.

Her fingertips trail along the edge of the canvas, and this time, she doesn't speak. She doesn't ask any questions. She just studies the portrait, the painting of little Zuko, age nine, still unscarred and happier than he would be for too many years after. She lets out a slow sigh, and Zuko can see the soft smile on her face as she leans toward the side, letting her cheek finally come to rest against his shoulder.

"Sometimes I can't believe how cute you are," she says, her voice quiet.

Zuko is stunned by the weight of her head on his shoulder. Too stunned, for a moment, to even realize what she's just said. How cute you are. Present tense.

It has to be a mistake. Katara almost never misspeaks, but if Zuko was ever cute—and he's not sure that he ever was, even before the Agni Kai—those days are long gone.

"Maybe when I was little," he concedes. Though he knows that it's not exactly true, he can't bring himself to contradict her.

Katara nestles in against his side. "Nope. I'm an expert on the subject. You're cute, Zuko." She tilts her head just enough to meet his eyes.

Zuko frowns. She's wrong. He can't be cute, especially now, but her expression is perfectly sincere.

"I—" he begins, then swallows. He can't remember what he was going to say, and his mouth feels very dry all of a sudden. Then, against his will, words spill out of him. "You're cute too."

His face flames when he realizes what he's said, what he's done, and he pulls away, burying his face in his hands. "Spirits. I'm sorry, that's not what I—"

Katara has no time to react to his sudden movement, and she lets out a small yelp as the shoulder she was leaning against moves out of her reach. She falls over, landing on her side against Zuko's back.

Zuko is fairly certain that he's going to either combust in a puff of smoke or melt into the floorboards, leaving a big, stupid, reddish smudge where a firebender once sat. People would go on tours of this place someday, and they'd see the puddle that used to be Zuko, and some stuffy old tour guide would point to the spot on the floor and announce to all the spectators that, 'Here lies all that remains of the disgraced former prince of the Fire Nation, Zuko. He met his end in a most undignified manner after admitting that he found a waterbender pretty.'

Zuko's impulse is to pull away again, to wrench himself from underneath Katara and to run out of the room without explanation. He stops himself, though, when he realizes that he would only send Katara toppling again. His face grows hotter and hotter, and he doesn't dare to move.

Still half-sprawled across Zuko's back, Katara giggles. Then laughs. Then keeps laughing as she rolls onto her side and wraps her arms around him from behind in a strange, lopsided hug.

Zuko can't decide whether staying still and silent while Katara hugs him from behind is the best course or not. He can't make this any weirder than it already is. If he does, then Katara is going to be that stuffy old tour guide telling people about how Zuko died of sheer embarrassment and melted into the floor. Except that she's Katara, and she'll never be stuffy. She'll be beautiful no matter what her age, and—oh, spirits, he really has to stop thinking before he lets anything more slip out.

"I'm so sorry," he manages to croak after a too-long pause.

Katara is still laughing, and she squeezes him tighter. "Don't be," she manages between giggles. "You just wanted to cheer me up." She pulls herself all the way up this time and holds onto his shoulder to steady herself between more bouts of giggling.

"I made everything awkward," he laments.

"And that's what I love about you."

Her words don't sink in until she lets out a surprised squeak, claps a hand over her mouth, and buries her face in his shoulder.

"Wait. What did you just—"

Katara shakes her head. "Nothing," she says, voice muffled against his shoulder. "I didn't say anything."

"Katara." He takes hold of her shoulders and pushes her back just far enough so he can see her face.

Oh. She's blushing. Zuko isn't imagining it this time—her cheeks have taken on a slightly darker hue, and she's avoiding his gaze. His heart skips. She meant it? He doesn't want to get his hopes up, but she wouldn't be blushing if there weren't some truth to it, would she?

"Did you just—" He breaks off, his eyes wide and his face aflame.

Katara meets his gaze and gives a small, crooked smile. "Um—surprise?"

His head spins, and he can feel his mouth pulling into a smile. He never would have dared to hope, but Katara is smiling, and he's smiling, and he has to remind himself to breathe.

"Since we're already making things awkward," she resumes, "there's something else I might as well tell you."

Zuko can't stop staring into her eyes, falling deeper and deeper into the endless blue that looks almost like silver by the pale light of the single lamp.

"There is?"

Katara nods. "I really want to kiss you right now."

His mouth goes dry again, and he is numb when he manages to nod. "That—that sounds good to me."

And that was a stupid response, he tells himself, but before he can think of a more dignified one, Katara's lips are pressed against his.

Zuko's eyes close, and a bit of the tension drains from his shoulders. Maybe he can handle this, he decides. He's still the most awkward person he knows, but maybe that isn't such a bad thing after all.

[writeroutoftime]

lost in love and time - chapter four

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

pairing: bucky barnes x reader 

summary: haunted mansion au - new information begins to unravel about the mansion, and why you have been summoned there. 

warnings: none 

words: 1.6k

a/n: I know it’s been a while, but here we go again! The action is starting to pick up, and I’m super excited to posts more chapters! I’ve had a burst of inspiration, so get ready lol! Anyway, for this chapter, I hope that you enjoy and I hope that it makes sense! I love feedback so please let me know what you think, and have a lovely day! 

oOoOo

“Okay, what the hell is going on, and why does that portrait look exactly like y/n?”

Peggy and Steve shared a sorrowful look before Steve rested his hand on his wife’s shoulder and looked back at Natasha. “That’s really none of your business. Now if you-“

“Her name was y/n!” Peggy suddenly shouted; her eyes squeezed shut as though it pained her to speak. Steve turned to glare at his wife’s slip up, but Peggy glared right back, hands on her hips, eyes challenging Steve to contradict her. “What? They have a right to know, don’t you agree?”

Before Steve could offer a retort, there was yet another creak of the floorboards that caused all four sets of eyes to widen and their bodies to freeze. Steve quickly ushered for Peggy to hide and he pushed Sam and Natasha in a similar direction. The three found a stack of chests to hide behind and held their breaths as they heard the footsteps stop in front of Steve.

“Were you not told that I needed to speak with you?” Pierce’s harsh voice sounded throughout the room.

“Apologies.” Steve said, his eyes trained towards the floor.

“Would you like to explain what Miss. y/l/n and those idiots following her around are doing here?”

Sam nearly let out a loud scoff and a snarky remark at Pierce’s insult but was quickly silenced by Nat’s hand over his both, accompanied by both her and Peggy rolling their eyes. If they couldn’t stay quiet, Pierce would surly discover them, and who knew what those consequences would bring.  

“Uh, I am not sure, sir. They must have stumbled across the mansion.” Steve stuttered as he fumbled for any story that would draw suspicion away from him.

“How odd that would be, Steven, but for your sake, let us hope that is the case. Don’t you forget that there are worse things than purgatory, and you wouldn’t dear Peggy to be the one to find out, would you?”

Steve’s fists were clenched so hard and he had to bite his tongue to keep from responding.

“And to make matters worse, that girl has been snooping around, sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.” Pierce growled, a deep and fierce hatred evident in his eyes.

Without warning, Natasha lost her footing and knocked on object from on top of the chest, crashing to the ground. The three of them behind the trunks winced and held their breaths, waiting for their inevitable demise. Pierce’s eyes snapped in the direction where the three were hiding and he took slow steps to investigate. Nervously, Steve threw himself in Pierce’s path. “Maybe they should just leave in the morning.”

The distraction was successful, seeing that Pierce immediately forget of the noise. “That would make this situation go away, though it wouldn’t be quite permanent.” Pierce said, almost thoughtful. “If you see any of them, you will bring them to me. Understood?”

Steve nodded, his eyes kept low once more, and he waited for Pierce’s retreating footsteps to vanish. Once they did, he quickly looked behind the trunks and offered Peggy a hand up while Sam and Nat looked shocked and somewhat terrified. This had not been the weekend away they were expecting.  

Before a silence could settle over the group, Natasha decided she had had enough and was ready to start demanding answers. “Okay, now you really need to tell us what is going on. What was he talking about worse things than purgatory?”

Both Peggy and Steve spoke at the same time.

“We really can’t tell you.” Steve said, sternly, while Peggy blurted out “It’s the curse!”

“Really Peg?” Steve questioned.

“Well, they should know, it involves them!” Peggy argued, while he and Steve turned to face each other, seemingly having a silent argument that Peggy seemed to be winning.

“What involves us?” Nat shouted.

“The curse,” Peggy began than rolled her eyes at her husband’s reluctant look. “We can’t tell you, but I know who can.” she said. “See loophole?” she added with a joyful smile that she aimed towards Steve.

“Wait,” Natasha spoke. “So, all that stuff about ‘are ghosts real’ and purgatory, that’s true?”

Sam scoffed as he listened to the conversation. “Come on, ghosts aren’t real.”

“On your left.” Steve spoke over Sam’s shoulder after he materialized from standing directly in front of Sam to directly behind him.

“Not cool man! Not cool!” Sam cried out, trying to downplay how freaked out he actually was.

“Follow me.” Peggy said and quickly lead the group out of the attic and back through the haunting corridors of the mansion.  

oOoOo

The heavy rain accompanied by the continuous thunder and lightning normally would have made the mansion appear eerie, but as you walked, arms linked, with Bucky, you felt calm and almost at home. After he led you out of the library, you couldn’t help but be in awe of everything you passed. From the design of the house to the décor that had been immaculately placed, you fell in love with the manor despite its rough, outward appearance.

“It is her story that fills these walls.” Bucky spoke fondly, his eyes far off in a dreamlike state.

“Who?” you whispered, curious, but not wanting to disturb his trance.

Bucky looked at you for a moment. “The woman my great-grandfather loved. She brought love and life to this manor. I know it does not look like much now, but this mansion used to be full of parties and laughter, and above all else, hope.”

For a few moments, you stood silently as Bucky guided you from room to room, mentioning little details here and there about where a particular piece of décor had come from, or a fond memory of his ancestors that must have been passed down. You noticed tears glisten in Bucky’s eyes, but he never let them fall, and you squeezed his arm gently to remind him that you were there. Even though the two of you had met only hours before, his pain and sadness caused the same reaction within you.

“The two were so in love.” Bucky eventually whispered, referring to the woman from earlier that had made an impression on his ‘great-grandfather.’ “So in love, but it was not meant to be, and she was stolen from him.” he said, his voice growing a bit harsher towards the end.

“How did she die, Bucky?” you asked carefully, not wanting to pry into information that didn’t concern you or cause Bucky any more heartbreak.

“Poison. She took her own life.” Bucky responded with a shaky breath. There was a pause in the story as Bucky stared out into the dark and stormy night, almost as if he were preparing himself to continue. “And without her, his Pixie, the light in his life – he hung himself.”

A gasp left your lips at the revelation, though something didn’t sit right with you. Of course, you had never known the couple in question, but it seemed unlikely that a woman so in love with a man would willingly remove herself from his life.

“And so, it’s said that his soul wanders through this mansion, waiting to be reunited with his lover.” Bucky whispered as he now faced you, holding onto your hands ever so gently.

There was such a strong pull towards Bucky, and you felt yourself drawing closer to him until both of your lips were mere centimeters apart. Just before either of you could connect them and end this feeling of longing, the grandfather clock chimed, announcing the new hour, and you pulled away startled.

Along with the chimes from the clock, came the ever-present figure of Pierce. He sent a glare in your direction that made your heart clench, and no words needed to be spoken to know he was not happy that you were still wondering around. Although you were still unsure as to what you had done that caused the butler to dislike you so much, you didn’t stick around to find out. With one last glance at Bucky, you offered a tiny smile before you scurried off in the general direction of your room.

“She really is something, isn’t she Pierce? Even after all these years.” Bucky sighed, dreamily once you were out of earshot.

Pierce’s eyes narrowed at the spot you had walked off to and then he relaxed his face to a neutral expression. “As much as she may look like Miss. y/l/n, do not let this temptress deceive you. I know that your emotions may cloud your judgment, but when have I ever steered you wrong?” he advised and walked away, leaving Bucky torn between his heart and his mind.  

oOoOo

That evening, when you had finally calmed your mind and succeed to sleep, you dream of Bucky.  It was fuzzy, but still clearer than the dreams you had in the past. Finally, you were able to identify the man with you as the familiar, melodic tune also found its way into your subconscious.

In your dream, you danced with Bucky and he looked at you with all the care and love in the world as he twirled you around a magnificent ball room. Glancing down, you could make out that you were not dressed in your usual attire, instead something closer to that of the dress you had seen Peggy wear earlier. The music grew louder and faster as did the spinning of your dream. You felt overwhelmed and confused, and just as you woke up with a gasp, you were left with the image of Bucky on one knee.

What was going on?

oOoOo

tag list:  @readermia, @mgk-rooklover1997, @crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons, @dabooks23, @loser-alert, @themeanestlittlewitch, @peaches-roses-sins, @tiffanynguyen03 @t33n-tw4t @tinymalscoffee @diana-24-world, @ducky1901 

[nicostolemybones]

Good day

Happy Birthday! (Nico Birthday Week)

Trans Nico fic

Tw: pain, dysphoria, period mention, unsafe binding

-

Nico inevitably woke up in pain, although he figured he could bare it today. He'd been told pretty adamantly not to train today, but he didn't want to sit around and do nothing, so once he was awake and ready, he walked slowly to the infirmary. His joints ached badly, but he wouldn't be walking around too much anyway, so it was nothing he couldn't handle for today. He'd decided to spend the day helping Will out- of course, Will would probably refuse if Nico asked, so he was just going to turn up and start helping with the stock rooms- he could sit on the shelves to sort through the boxes and count everything and take note of what they were running low on. 

Of course, when Will found him sitting on the shelves counting out bottles of testosterone, he was less than pleased. "What exactly do you think you're doing?"

"Helping," Nico replied, "you're running low on ace bandages and nectar but there's enough ambrosia to last a few months at least. I'm counting out the testiclerone." Will's wheezing laugh alerted Nico that not only had he mispronounced testosterone, but he'd said the word testicle and both boys were too immature to not overreact. Nico facepalmed. "Oh balls," he sighed, then realised he'd basically made the same mistake twice, laughing at himself quietly. 

"If you're not going to be mature," Will chastised, but he was definitely being more immature than Nico was with his bright glow from the laughter, "then get out of my stock cupboard."

"Never I've established a nest," Nico protested.

"I ordered you to rest."

"I am resting," Nico argued, "I don't wanna just sit in my cabin when I could be helpful."

"But it's your birthday," Will whined, "you shouldn't be counting out medicines you should be out having fun!"

"It's not my birthday," Nico said slowly, and Will raised his eyebrows.

"Nico, it's the 28th. It's your birthday today."

"...oh," Nico whispered, after a while.

"Did you… dude, did you forget your own birthday?"

"It… it's not important," Nico sighed with a huff, turning his attention back to counting, "it's just a day."

"Is there a reason you don't wanna celebrate?"

"No," Nico shrugged, "not particularly…"

"Then let's go!" Will had grabbed Nico's hand before he could process what was happening, and his best friend was dragging him away.

Will brought him ice cream, which Nico appreciated- he had chocolate, whilst Will had strawberry. Nico was having fun at first, but he started to feel out of place as they shopped for clothes. All the men were so tall, and Nico was terrified to talk should his voice give him away. It had been easy to pass his higher register off as puberty not starting yet, but Will was fifteen too, and his voice had already started breaking. He always had a very clumsy shaving rash, and acne certainly wasn't his best friend, and he was tall. Nico on the other hand was currently battling a heavy period making him feel like he was gonna vomit and the growth of two lumps on his chest he was binding tightly in the hope they wouldn't grow anymore or be noticeable.

Even most of the extra small clothes would be too big for him. Nothing in the adult men's department was going to fit him. He felt like everyone around him knew, like everybody was looking at him wondering what some little girl was doing there. "Will," he said quietly, dysphoria and anxiety spiking through the roof, "I need to get out of here…"

"Ah, shit, sure," Will said, hurrying Nico out of the store. He took him to a small café, ordering himself a milkshake. Nico opted for tea to calm his nerves. His dysphoria was bad, and he knew he'd need the bathroom soon to change pads, and he wasn't binding safely. Will didn't know yet, and Nico really wanted to confide in him. He'd been thinking about coming out to Will for a while now, and it clear Will was concerned about him. Nico felt comfortable around Will. He'd never come out to anyone at camp- Bianca had known, and his dad had figured it out. Of course, Nico was terrified to come out, but he knew Will would accept him. 

"Hey, Will?" He began quietly, and the nerves washed over him in overwhelming waves. He almost backed out, but he reminded himself that things would be okay. "I have something I want to tell you."

"Is it that you stole my last cookie? Because you totally stole my last cookie." 

"That was Kayla," Nico corrected quickly, and Will was probably about to shout out loud, but Nico quickly hurried out a small "it's serious."

Will instantly leaned forwards, giving a reassuring but concerned smile. He was glowing softly, comfortingly. "I'm here," he said softly, and Nico took a deep shaky breath.

"It's uh… something about me," he said, "something personal."

"It's okay," Will reassured softly, "I'm listening."

Nico didn't really know how to say it. He'd always imagined it would be such a long and personal conversation, but as soon as he mustered up the courage, it was only two words. "I'm trans…"

Will was silent for a while, and Nico began to panic, but Will wouldn't reject him, he highly doubted it. He knew Will was just trying to figure out how to respond out of respect and care. "I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to trust me with that," he said eventually, "is there anything in particular that I do that makes you feel uncomfortable that you need me to stop doing, or- or anything in general to avoid?"

"You haven't made me uncomfortable," Nico said, feeling more able to force the words out, "just uh… no feminine language, and don't draw attention to any feminine things unless it's y'know… period leakage or medical related. And uh… I don't want you to tell anyone at camp, I'm not ready and I don't feel safe enough."

"Of course, dude," Will reassured, "may I ask you something personal?"

"I trust you," Nico replied, and Will smiled softly, a dark amber hue seeping into his glow.

"I noticed we're always running low on ace bandages. Is that…. what you're using to um-"

"Bind," Nico filled in, before nodding. 

"Would it be okay if I go buy you a sports bra so you don't have to and you go into the bathroom and put it on and take the bandages off? I know which boy's bathrooms have clean stalls and I'll come with you so you feel less scared. And uh- I know it won't squash you as much as you want, but I'll give you my jacket. Would that help? And when we get back to camp you can borrow my laptop in the infirmary and order a proper binder and measure yourself up properly."

"I'd really appreciate that, like… a lot… just don't get too flustered seeing lots of knickers and please don't get distracted trying bras on over your head. And uh… I don't feel comfortable in public bathrooms anyway, but I can't go into the men's room today, I uh… have bleeding."

"I would not!" Will protested, but his face said otherwise. "Anything I can do to help the dysphoria or hormones?"

"Just continue treating me like any other guy?"

"Of course," Will said softly.

"I don't think I can walk around for very long," Nico added after a comfortable silence, "my pain's getting to me."

"Wanna have a movie marathon in your cabin when we get back? I uh… I also kinda got you a birthday present I've been waiting to give you."

"Yeah," Nico blushed, "sounds great. So uh… you got me a gift?"

"Happy Birthday," Will said softly, handing over a small box. Nico opened it and almost bounced out of his seat- it was the latest mythomagic expansion pack he'd been saving up for. 

"Are you serious," Nico grinned, "you got me mythomagic? Will!"

"I thought you might like them," Will said, "I was uh… kinda gonna take you on a date today but I chickened out on asking you properly."

"You wanted to go on a date? With- with me? But- I thought you liked Lou-Ellen?"

"Well yeah, but that was like- a year ago. And I'm not straight, I'm bi. As in girls and guys. Well- not just girls and guys but you get my point. And you're a guy who's um. Who's pretty handsome. So uh. Um. It's… it's totally cool if-"

"Dork," Nico interrupted with a smirk, "took you long enough to ask me."

"So uh- is that a yes?" Nico almost whacked him with a pillow, except he didn't have one. He felt confident and happy for once. It had been a good birthday. 

@solangeloweek

[ninetalees]

Sufferance, chapter 3

Is finally here! Been working on this on and off for the last few weeks. Hope you enjoy! As always, feedback is appreciated. Also, let me know if any of you get the movie I’m referring to, lol.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24019411/chapters/59125465

They didn’t speak about what had happened the next day.

Or the next, or the next. Before Hop knew it, it had been a week and the atmosphere of simmering tension had not eased. It was mind-numbingly frustrating and Hop wanted to understand, but how could he ask, where would he start? All he could do was watch.

He watched Bede smiling along with Sonia, on his knees in the dirt in the Weald, brow furrowed in concentration on the PC in the lab or with his head in a book. He especially watched him when he bade him farewell in the evenings, his pale skin and flowing hair set alight by the shimmering hues of the sunset. Hop watched, but he couldn’t understand; he couldn’t read the thoughts that flitted behind Bede’s eyes and hung unspoken between them.

“…you know you have talked about nothing but Bede for the whole of this conversation?” Gloria’s voice cut across him mid-sentence, as he was complaining how Bede was so mannerly around Sonia, all smiles and questions about her work. Hop was convinced it had to be a front; he had never known Bede to warm to anyone without a lot of graft on their part. More fool them.

“Well, I have a lot to say,” Hop replied, affronted. “It’s not like I care or anything, I just need to vent. He’s so…” he gestured with the hand not holding the phone – one that happened to be holding a piece of toast. From the corner of his eye he could see the spray of crumbs that littered the floor. A problem for later; the whole place could do with a clean. He had been so busy with work for the last week he’d hardly had time to even consider anything else.

“Uh-huh, sure sounds like you don’t care.” There was a wryness to Gloria’s tone that set Hop’s teeth on edge. “This happens every time you two hang out, you know. You don’t stop going on about him for ages.”

“Like I said, I have a lot to say about him,” Hop shot back. “He’s just so… I don’t understand what he’s trying to do, you know? Like I was saying, he’s so pally with Sonia – she actually likes him – always asking her questions about what she does and about the Weald and about science. As if he actually cares.” He snorted. “I get that he’s here to work – this project obviously is important to him, I’ll give him that, but as if he’s ever been nice to someone for no reason in his life. Like he actually gives a toss about anything Sonia or anyone in this town does.”

“Hop,” Gloria sighed, exasperated. “He’s not trying to do anything. I told you to give him a chance, didn’t I?”

“I have been,” Hop growled. “I’m just saying to you, best mate to best mate, that he’s a pain in the arse and no-one seems to be able to see past his weird, smarmy front. I mean, if he’s so interested in science and what we’re studying at the lab, why would he not ask me? We spend way more time together than him and Sonia do. It’s because he’s not trying to gain my favour because he knows I know what he’s like.”

“You may be my best mate but Bede is my friend too, you know,” Gloria replied with a yawn. “And maybe he’s not asking you questions because you’re being hostile as shit? I wasn’t going to tell you this, but the night I stayed after you left he said that it had been really nice to for the three of us to spend that time together. He’s making an effort Hop, you should too.”

Hop stood to begin getting his things together for the day ahead, cradling the phone between his shoulder and his cheek. “Don’t take his side,” he snapped. “And we all say sentimental shite when we’re drunk.”

“It’s not about sides, Hop. There are no sides.” He could hear the roll of her eyes in her tone. “Look, I’m not going to indulge you further about this. I have to go anyway – big press conference this morning.” She clicked her tongue with disapproval. “I hope you’re doing okay. I love you lots, y’know? Try not to overthink about Bede. I know you refuse to believe it, but he is a good guy. He’s changed.”

“I love you too,” Hop replied, weakening. He sighed. “I… maybe to you he’s changed. But I still… still think…” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. You go – I need to get to work too. Talk soon.”

“Talk soon.” Gloria hung up. Hop took the phone away from his ear and stared aimlessly at the screen for a moment. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Gloria – Bede had changed, for her. Because he respected her. But not Hop – as far as Bede was concerned Hop was a mere small-town professor who had thrown in the towel on battling because he had failed. And Hop couldn’t tolerate that. He hadn’t mentioned to Gloria what had happened with Amelia. Truthfully, he was a little ashamed of how he had reacted; his feelings had just been compounded in the moment. He was used to Gloria and her fans whenever they went anywhere together, and their fawning had never bothered him in the slightest. Never before had he been able to associate the word contrite with the shiny-haired, stuck-up footnote on his life that was the Ballonlea Gym Leader. But that day he had apologised – apologised for what? Offending Hop with his fame? For reminding him that he had everything Hop had once wanted? Did he not understand that Hop had moved on?

He pocketed his phone and piled his breakfast dishes into the sink before heading out. The weather that morning broke the sunny spell they had been enjoying for the past few weeks; the sky was grey, threatening rain, but the spring heat still hung heavy in the air. Hop had already slipped out of his coat by the time he arrived at the lab. Sonia, seated at the PC, raised her hand in a wave without turning around. “Morning Hop,” she greeted. Hop set his bag at the door and came to stand behind her, eyes alight with curiosity. “Morning,” he replied. “Whatcha looking at?”

“Just having a glance over some of the environmental comparisons yourself and Bede have made between the Tangle and the Weald so far.” Sonia gestured to the graphs on the screen. “Bede mentioned you hadn’t had much luck in scouring out anything notable yet, so asked for a second opinion.” She leaned forward, squinting in concentration as though looking more closely would uncover some as-of-yet unrevealed secret. “I haven’t caught anything either. But that’s what science is all about, right? Trial and error.”

“This whole excursion might prove to be useless,” Bede’s voice came from behind them, and Hop whirled to see him making his way down the stairs from the balcony, face obscured by the pile of books he was carrying. He set them on the countertop and came to stand by Hop. “But it was something Opal always talked about looking at again, so… I thought it might be nice to pick it up. In her honour.”

The three of them fell silent for a moment. Opal had passed away 3 years ago. It was an inevitability, of course, but not one that anyone who had ever known Opal had ever entertained. She had always seemed larger than life: a garish pink thread on the tapestry of the colourful characters of Galar’s elite. Hop couldn’t imagine how disconcerting it must have been to watch her grow frailer and frailer, culminating on that grey autumn day in Ballonlea. When he stole a glance at Bede his features were creased, the line of his shoulders rigid. The sight of him swallowed in the throes of his grief was a lightning flash of déja-vu, and for a moment the two of them were standing side by side at that graveside again, Hop’s throat thick with half-formed sentiments that couldn’t arrange themselves into words.

“She had a greatly inquisitive mind.” Sonia’s gentle voice wrenched Hop back to reality. She had turned in her seat to face Bede and laid a sympathetic hand on his arm. Hop noted how Bede tensed under her grip for an instant before rearranging his expression into its usual mask of neutrality. “Thanks, Sonia,” he murmured.

Sonia smiled encouragingly and squeezed his arm once more before getting to her feet and breezing past them to her desk. “That reminds me.”  She plucked a folder from among the swathes of papers scattered into disorganised piles on her desk. Hop had always thought it must be a physical extension of her mind: outwardly cluttered, but everything had a place and Sonia knew exactly where that was. She waved the folder in their faces, then slapped it into Hop’s hands. “This is for you to bring over to Gr- Professor Magnolia’s.” She flushed at the near slip-up. “She called this morning to inquire after your research; she helped Opal when she came to look into the Weald, a long time ago. I told her I would put together some notes and have you bring it over. Is that okay?” she grinned at Bede. “She was excited to see you – said it’s been too long.”

To Hop’s surprise, Bede’s expression brightened considerably. “Oh, really? One step ahead of me as usual – I had meant to get in touch with her to let her know I was around.” The more time Hop spent with Bede the more apparent were the gaping holes present in Hop’s image of him, a photograph over a flame. He’d had a peripheral awareness of Opal’s friendship with Magnolia but at no point had he thought to draw the conclusion that Bede must be close with her, too.

“Word travels fast around these parts, Bede,” Sonia replied with a laugh. “Unlike me, she didn’t forget you were coming. When I went round for tea yesterday that was the first thing she asked about – when you would be dropping by to show her what you had accomplished so far.” She nodded to the folder. “I put that together this morning, said I would send you both over today. Since it’s a joint effort.”

“Of course.” Bede’s tone was tinged with excitement. “I can’t thank you both enough for your help.” Hop bristled instinctively, but couldn’t locate anything in Bede’s expression but genuine warmth. He shook off the discomfort and smiled shakily back, and was glad when Sonia swooped in to respond for the two of them.

“Not at all! That’s what we’re here for: to answer questions about Pokémon and their world.” Hop mumbled something that could pass as agreement before slipping the folder under his arm. “Let’s be off then,” he said to Bede. He nodded at Sonia. “Be back in a tick.”

“Take your time! Magnolia will be thrilled to see you both.” She beamed. “You’ve been working hard, you deserve a break.”

Hop wasn’t sure he would classify this as a break – he would probably rather be working – but refrained from complaint in the face of Sonia’s palpable delight. He knew she often worried for her grandmother; after her husband had passed away she was all alone in that house and Sonia was often too busy to visit as much as she would like. Magnolia was independent and hard as nails, but at least with Hop and Bede there Sonia could relieve herself of the nagging concern for a few hours. Instead, Hop departed with a smile and a nod, the folder clutched to his chest.

Bede strode ahead, his gait hurried and purposeful. Hop trailed a few paces behind, not quite dragging his feet but making no effort to keep up, either. By the time he reached Magnolia’s house Bede was standing by the gate, tapping an impatient rhythm in the dust.

“You never told me you’d been around these parts before.” Hop remarked as he drew up beside him.

“You never asked.” Bede slid open the latch and motioned impatiently for Hop to follow as he trotted up the garden path. Hop scowled at his dismissiveness.

“Oh, right, because I’m supposed to ask you about every possible scenario that might have happened in the world in order for you to mention it. Because that’s how conversations work, is it?”

They were standing outside the door, now. Bede rolled his eyes and raised a hand to bang the Pyroar knocker against the peeling paintwork. “How would I know? You’re always the one insisting I don’t know how to talk to people when I tell you not to yell in the pub.”

Hop’s eyes narrowed. Indeed, there may have been one or two instances of that particular nature. He opened his mouth to snap back only for the door to be flung open to reveal a beaming Magnolia. She had taken to using a zimmerframe in her old age (after much coaxing from Sonia), her posture slightly hunched like a half-folded deckchair. But the smile on her face did more to brighten it than the wrinkles did to crease it. In that moment, with her white hair shining in the crack of sunlight between clouds and the glimmer of delight in her eyes, she appeared ten years younger.

“Bede, dear,” she greeted. “It’s been too long. Have you grown?”          

Bede grinned and skirted neatly around her zimmerframe to gather her into a careful hug. “No, I think you’ve shrunk.” Hop balked at his cheek, but Magnolia only laughed.

“Your tongue is sharp as ever I see.” She tutted affectionately and released him. Bede’s cheeks were pink, perfect ponytail ruffled from the embrace. Hop barely recognised him.

He only realised he had been staring when Magnolia touched his arm. “And lovely to see you too, Professor.” She nodded to the folder in his hands. “Is that for me?”

“Uh…” he blinked stupidly for a moment. The research. “Uh, yes. Yes it is.” He proffered the folder. “Sonia mentioned you were interested in our research?”

“Bring it through, I have the tea on.” Magnolia turned to shuffle back into the hallway. “And yes, very interested. As I’m sure Bede has told you myself and Opal started this project years ago. She was always interested in the Weald, but League life is so busy.” Magnolia let out a wistful sigh. “And life is so short. Before you know it, you’re an old crone like me, confined to days spent watering plants and endless cups of tea.”

“I don’t believe that for a second. Sonia is run off her feet trying to get you to stay indoors, I bet,” Bede replied with a laugh, following her inside. Hop was left standing in the doorway, reeling. How was it that he was the one out of sorts, here in the town of his birth? Bede had come and now nothing made sense. His life had been a clear, shallow lake: uncomplicated and safe. Bede had dropped in like a stone, the resounding ripples touching everything Hop had once known to be absolute – his friendships, his career, his past. Now he was left squinting into the pool, struggling to recognise the constantly shifting reflections.

“Hop?” Bede poked his head around the doorway of what must have been the living room. “You alright?”

Hop started. “Uh, yeah. Fine.” He met Bede’s gaze. There remained a dainty flush to his skin, strands of white-blond falling messily into his eyes. In that instant Hop had the bizarre urge to grab his shoulders and shake him, pull him real close and dig his nails into his skin. Maybe if he got close enough he could see what he was missing, could claw out the contents of his brain so well concealed by wry smiles and disparaging sniffs.

 Instead he shut the front door and made his way into the room from where Bede had appeared. It was indeed the living room. The lights were low, so much so Hop could mostly only make out the shape of things. The plush furniture, the oblong shadows of chests of drawers and dressers along the lengths of the walls. Every available surface was decorated with photo frames, even the dusty piano in the corner. Hop’s eyes were drawn immediately to flashes of red in several pictures, bright spots in the relative darkness. He wandered up to one in particular over the fireplace. A much younger Sonia stood with her arm thrown carelessly around Leon, under the shade of the trees in Magnolia’s back garden. They were laughing, faces alight with excitement and despite the stillness of the image Hop could envision so clearly their playful jostling it were as though they were standing there in front of him, brimming with joy and youthful exuberance. He stared until his eyes watered and the edges of his vision blurred. There was probably a photo like that of him and Gloria, somewhere.

“Cute picture.” Bede materialised behind Hop so suddenly he whipped around, arms flailing, and narrowly avoided hitting Bede in the cheek.

“Yeah,” Hop replied at last. He shoved his hands into his pockets so as to avoid any more near-accidents. They observed the photo, the silence sitting heavy on their shoulders. When Hop glanced at Bede his usual smooth expression had resettled into place, the hair that had been falling around his face pulled back. He found himself wondering in that moment what Bede had been like as a child: he hadn’t up until now ever entertained that fact there had been a time when the now-Gym Leader had been wide-eyed and top-full with hope for the future. Hop knew Bede had not had the easiest start in life, having spent some time in an orphanage, but his insight ended there. Bede had never spoken about his beginnings himself – all the information Hop had he had gleaned from his League Card as a Gym Challenger. He had never dwelled any further.

He opened his mouth to ask – he didn’t know what exactly – when Magnolia returned, slowly wheeling a drinks tray laden with a teapot and matching china. Bede flung himself across the room to help her and she laughed at his fussing as he carefully set about transferring the contents of the tray to the coffee table.

“I told you, I didn’t need help,” she scolded affectionately. As she spoke, however, she lowered herself carefully into an armchair, the seat a perfect indent of her shape, happy to let Bede take charge. Hop moved to assist Bede by pouring the tea into the cups. It annoyed him he had not jumped to help immediately: his reaction times were off, as though he were moving through cement. Somehow, Bede fit this scene moreso than he did. If this had been one of the photos on the walls Hop would have been the accidental thumbprint in the corner.

Once the tea was poured and the places set, Hop and Bede took their seats. Hop blew on the steaming cup in his hands, enjoying the damp heat on his skin and how the sensation distracted him from Bede and Magnolia’s murmured recounting of an old story about Opal. Eventually, Magnolia raised a slightly trembling hand to point at the folder sticking out of Hop’s coat.

“Anyway,” she began. “On the subject of Opal, I would be extremely interested to have a look at what work you’ve done on her project thus far.”

Hop snapped to attention and laid down his cup to draw the folder from his inner pocket and hand it to her. “Yes, of course,” he replied, business-like. “As you can see we haven’t made a great deal of progress yet. We’ve noted some similarities between the Tangle and the Weald on the basis of temperature and certain species of plant-life, but that’s about it as of yet.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “There’s far more differences than there are similarities, that’s for sure. In fact the differences are so vast I can’t help but wonder if the similarities are merely coincidental and we’re looking from the completely wrong angle. But I don’t know where else to start.”

Magolia’s eyes twinkled with interest, and her fingers leafed through the report with an ease unweighted by age. “Hmmm.” She clicked her tongue. “I would be inclined to agree with you. I was surprised when Opal came to me first – I told her, besides the fact that they are both forests, the two locations would have very little in common. But she was insistent, and her preliminary research was sound – according to all known literature Weezing did indeed first inherit its Fairy-typing in the Weald.”

Bede raised a finger. “If I may,” he cut in, glancing at Hop as though for permission. “It is interesting that it’s only Weezing. There are no other Fairy-types to be found in the Weald at all.” He titled his head. “There obviously is something about the environment that is attractive to Fairy-types in particular – that has to be true. Otherwise Weezing would have never developed the typing in the first place. But why only Weezing? Why have no others spawned there?” He sighed. “It’s perplexing indeed.”

Unthinkingly, Hop had lowered his hand to run a finger around the smooth metal of the Pokéball in his pocket. He wasn’t in the habit of carrying his entire party around with him anymore – the wild Pokémon that populated the areas surrounding Postwick and Wedgehurst were less than threatening. It was Zacian who accompanied him today, the legendary beast who had chosen Hop as its partner. Not no others. Zacian was the Fairy-type protector of the Weald. He sat up straighter in his seat with this sudden realisation, eyes widening. Could it be..?

Hop said nothing. This was something he wanted to look into himself first, to determine whether it was worth sharing with Bede. They were supposed to be conducting this study together, he knew that, but he couldn’t bear the thought of introducing Zacian to Bede, to opening up this part of his world to him quite yet. It was too precious, a thread that pulled taut together the lives of himself, Gloria and their hometown. No – he would look himself first; it was unlikely to be the answer, anyway.

Bede and Magnolia had moved back to talking about Opal, so Hop could allow himself to zone out of their conversation. He mostly watched Bede, enraptured. It were as though his usual cool exterior had quite literally thawed away: Hop had never seen him so animated, so uninhibited. He gestured and laughed – like laughed, head thrown back, teeth glinting in the low light – and was receptive to Magnolia’s affection, her gentle hand-pats and cooing smiles. Hop remembered seeing a movie, once, where the narrator talked about rude people only wanting to be loved, and if you were to show them that love they would open like a flower. How strange it was, to observe Bede bloom before his very eyes.

The afternoon was more pleasant that Hop had expected it would be. They talked a lot about Opal, her legacy and influence, about their shared pasts, about Sonia, about Gloria. They spent very little time, in fact, straying into conversation that could be labelled scientific. At one point Hop chanced a glance out the window, and all of a sudden the sun was low in the sky, shades of orange and pink streaked across greyish-blue. When he withdrew his phone from his pocket to check his phone, 5:34 blinked back at him in the encroaching darkness.

“Oh wow,” he stood. “Half-past five already! We should be getting back.” He grinned at Magnolia. “Sonia will be wondering where we’ve gotten to – today was supposed to be a working day.”

“Oh, wisht. She knew well what would happen.” Magnolia gave a dismissive wave of her hand, as though batting Hop’s words out of mid-air. “The moment I heard you were embarking on this project, I asked her to make sure you two came around at some point. It’s such a joy to see the youth delving into scientific study. It’s not a glamourous path, but such an important one.”

Hop’s smile became soft. He did not know if her words were for his benefit, but it left a lightness in his chest nonetheless. “Thank you,” he murmured, shaking her outstretched hand. “I think so too.” It steeled his resolve, knowing someone like Magnolia was behind him. He had seen Sonia, her own flesh and blood, have to fight for her approval – it wasn’t granted lightly.

Bede joined him on his feet. “I agree.” He nodded to Hop. “I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without Sonia or Hop, and Opal would have been lost without you.”

Hop eyed him warily, expectant of a punchline. Bede’s gaze was unblinking, wide and sincere. It equally left him warm and made his skin crawl. “Is my job,” he replied, his tone breezy and reflecting none of the unease that had settled like a rock in his stomach. He was glad when Bede moved to lean forward and carefully hug Magolia goodbye; Gloria always said his expressions were an open book. He couldn’t account for what he was feeling now.

Bede and Magnolia said their farewells and Hop and himself headed out. They left Magnolia sitting in her chair with their research. She would have seen them out, she said, if she had been 10 years younger. “I’ll tell you a secret,” she had gripped Bede’s arm, her lips curling into a mischievous smirk. “Manners are a youngster’s game. Get old and you can do and say as you please.”

They had all laughed, then, and Hop was glad the visit had ended on a lighter note. He still felt out of sorts, his skin prickling with apprehension. The sensation persisted as they stepped out the front door and into the diminishing daylight. Hop paused to take a deep, calming breath through his nose. The familiar notes of woodsmoke, of earth and freshly-cut grass steadied him, kept him grounded. This was his home – his little corner. Nothing could change that. He caught Bede’s inquisitive sideways glance as they made their way out the gate and set off in the direction of Wedgehurst, but Hop pretended not to notice. He remained stubbornly silent, in fact; hands jammed into his pockets and posture hunched like that of a stubborn child’s.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that quiet at any social gathering.” Bede’s smooth remark broke the silence. Hop lifted his eyes from his shoes to examine his face. His gaze was fixed on the sky, shoulders thrown back in a more relaxed fashion than Hop had ever seen. Normally Bede’s teasing would have him bristling but now he could only laugh nervously, still uncertain.

“Yeah, well, was pretty difficult to get a word in edgeways.” Hop found his voice at last. “I didn’t realise you and Magnolia were that close.”

“She and Opal were close friends.” Bede turned to face him. “They saw each other when they could. And Magnolia isn’t difficult to grow to like.”

Hop pressed his lips together, searching his expression. Bede wore a small, aimless smile, awash with memories of better times. This was what he had wanted, a glimmer of an opening, fleeting as a fish darting out of sight of a shadow; he had to move now or it would be lost.

Instead, words spilled from his lips before he had a chance to register what he was saying. “I mean, old ladies always had a thing for you anyway, didn’t they?”

Hop had strolled a few paces ahead before he realised Bede’s pale figure was no longer in his line of sight. He stopped and turned around, to be faced with a Bede he was far more familiar with; jaw tensed, eyes steely, all rigid, straight lines down to his hands that were curled into fists.

“Could you stop?” the words escaped from between Bede’s clenched teeth in a hiss. Hop blinked warily at him, the unease that had sat in his stomach melting out to run ice-cold through his veins.

“Stop what?” he asked, proud his voice didn’t tremble. He looked so angry.

“I have tried with you.” Bede’s tone was terrifyingly even, at odds with the rage that creased his features. “I understand that you don’t like me, and that’s fine. I don’t need you to like me. I don’t need you to be my friend.” He took several steps towards Hop so their faces were mere inches apart, and Hop wondered for a spilt second if he should be prepared for Bede to punch him. “But I do need you to stop being a fucking child so we can work together. You need to get over the fact that I beat you and was nasty to you seven years ago. You need to move on.”

Hop flinched at his words, as though they had dealt a physical blow. The chill in his veins has been replaced by fury that burned white hot and itchy beneath his skin. “You think that I don’t like you because you beat me in a battle seven years ago?” he snarled. “You really think that’s the reason?”

Confusion flitted across Bede’s expression, momentarily displacing the mounting tension. “What other reason is there?” he asked. Hop wanted to curl his fingers into his stupid, perfect hair and drag him close to spit the words in his ear.

“I don’t like you because you’re a self-important, disparaging piece of shit who thinks they’re better than everyone.” Hop’s voice rose. “I don’t like you because you trampled my confidence in the mud and have the audacity to suggest that was just you being nasty. And I especially don’t like you because you think you’ve fooled everyone, but you haven’t fooled me.”

Bede’s eyes narrowed. “I respected you, you know,” he murmured. “You made a good life for yourself, on your own terms. I tried to show you that. I thought this would be different, I really did.” He took a step back. “I should have known better.”

Without another word Bede brushed past him, a spectre retreating rapidly into the dusk. Hop was left standing alone, blood drumming in his head. It was the adrenaline coursing through his system that had been holding him upright, and upon the passage of the perceived threat he collapsed to the ground like a newborn foal.

He wanted to call out, make him come back and insist they finish this, but when he opened his mouth the metallic tang overwhelmed him. He raised a tentative hand to his lip and realised he had bitten it so hard it was dripping crimson into the dust.

[tfw-no-tennis]

huntoxhunto

we watched 2 whole more eps but we’re abt to vacay so i better recap this biz now before i forget

ok so we finished the zoldyck arc and uhhhh gotta say we werent expecting like any of that to happen lol 

ok ill back up so we start w/killuas mom (i dont think we ever heard her name) confronting gon & co....and canary (i lov her) is not dead which i assumed but thank goodness. 

zoldyck mom was totally using nen. also she is off her rocker gotta say. tho that visor is super cool, albeit confusing - is it connected to a bunch of security cameras or something? how does she see all that shit? 

granpa is wild. his tunic thing that says ‘one kill a day’ or w/e is kinda hilarious, it reminds me of the ‘apple a day keeps the dr away’ saying...a murder a day keeps the....idk away????

i love that killua makes it abundantly clear that he couldve like escaped at any time lol. also tho why didnt he just escape....baby boy just leave 

killua getting all serious and threatening milluki if he messes with gon....my boys got it BAD 

this family has so many communication issues hvbjadkfbjaskdfj nobody is on the same page at all 

the butler guy continued to remind me of kuro one piece this whole time...i was waiting for him to bust out the ridiculous cat claws

oh my GOD wait the flashbacks of EVEN BABIER KILLUA were so precious ;_; he was soooo tiny and cute oh my god. so precious. and canary was also so tiny and cute 

baby killua really just wanted a friend :(((( and canary wanted to be friends w/him but knew that mom zoldyck would kill her if she overstepped like that :( thats so tragic mannnn

also canary is so cool man. her beating up all those guys was epic

ok that whole scene with killua and his dad was like, such a rollercoaster lmao

like....it was all over the place for me...first of all the ambiance was wack, the room lighting was weird and im p sure killuas seat was an electric chair??? and the dad was in a coffin thing..???? like....interesting aesthetic choices all over the place here 

also i see now where killua got his hair and also his catboy tendencies. the zoldyck catboy genes seem to trace back to zoldyck dad, who has kinda scary cat eyes 

also im guessing that the dad is the blood zoldyck and the mom is the one who married in. they sure seem to put a lot of emphasis on like, family legacy or w/e, but the two parents certainty go abt it in different ways 

the whole convo b/w killua and his dad was wild, it totally didnt go where i was expecting it to. his dad was weirdly chill while also being super intense? 

killua happily telling stories abt gon was so sweet....baby boy baby 

and his dad telling him ‘never betray your friends’ was rlly interesting...i wonder what his reasons were for saying that 

cause then he tells killua he can leave, and killua does, but then dad zoldyck tells mom zoldyck (i rlly need to find out their names) that he thinks killua will come back on his own time....inch resting 

i wonder if dad zoldyck made killua promise that bc he was trying to set killua up for failure - as in, he tells killua to never betray his friends, thinking that killua inevitably will & be distraught abt it, and then turn back to the zoldyck family when this happens. idk

also its interesting to me that zoldyck dad wants killua to lead the family someday. like, illumi is right there, hes the oldest and clearly dedicated to being an evil assassin, and he seems p good at it...i wonder why killua is the favorite....the grandpa (i think) did say that killua is Special(tm) which...yes he is a special baby boy i love him. i wanna see more zoldyck family flashbacks/interactions so we can see what led them to this point 

oh lord that reminds me of illumi briefly appearing in the killua flashback and hes just like, suddenly there, wearing some gay ass sweater....like ok dude did you just come back from the Evil Assassin Library or st?????

that reminds me too, ruth tells me that apparently in the manga illumi and hisoka got married or something???? to which i say, thats fucking wild, but also it makes sense, those two are both horrible and disgusting and they absolutely deserve each other hbvajvhsdfjbak peak evil nasty gay rep, i love it. i cant wait to see whatever the fuck the context to that is bc, thats fucking wild

ok back to the plot so like its so wild to me how smoothly everything went hvubsjduhfbjsh like....killuas dad was rlly like ok u can leave and killua just went to the butler house and then canary woke up and was like ok gon & crew lets go to the butler house to see killua, fuck the rules, (and she didnt even get killed for ‘disobedience’ or w/e, or more likely - in most big shounen, she wouldve been attacked by the other evil butlers and gon wouldve had to fight them)

killua Rlly was like fuck this place im leaving my boyfriend and his parents are here to pick me up [puts on gayest outfit he owns and skateboards away] hvbhsjdfbjdkf

i love killuas weird gay preteen fashion so far and i cant wait to see more 

killua telling the butler guy to let him know as SOON as gon gets there cause he wants to see him AS SOON AS HE CAN ;_; bro they r....in love 

of course the butler is trickey tho lmao, any other shounen this wouldve turned into an 8 ep long fight scene sequence where gon has to fight the butlers in order to see killua 

and the of course gon is the same way, gon is like i need to see killua RIGHT NOW take me to him!!! ohhh my god babies

the whole coin game was wild, it was funny when the other butlers got involved too lmao 

when gon was like ‘hey leorio can i see your knife’ i was like OH NO I DONT LIKE WHERE THIS IS GOING. and i was right bc OWWWWW baby boy oh my god!!!! but that seems to have solved it even tho thats NOT how swelling works at ALL- 

anyways gon is a cute smart good boy and i also find it funny how killua eventually gets impatient and just busts in on this whole dramatic situation (and the tension immediately deescalates as a result lmao) 

tangent but god its so funny seeing all these butler guys deferring to killua, an actual 12 yr old....i wanna see the hilarious and hijink-filled results of killua being raised as a rich spoiled assassin prince. thats a lethal combo thats gotta result in some wildly skewed perceptions on how things work, especially paired with gon ‘probably eats dirt for fun and sleeps in trees’ freecess 

godddd gon and killuas lil reunion is SOOO cute they were so happy to see each other ;_; bro they are SO cuteeeee augh. two tiny babies

killua being like oh hi also uh kurapika andddd [looks at smudged writing on hand] lorpo 

hvhhbajfbs dont do my man leorio like that killua hes a hardworking father 

the fact that they just like. LEAVE...thats so wild. i cant believe how little fighting this arc had. this all wrapped up SO much faster than i could have ever anticipated lmao 

where the heck was alluka!? i assumed she’d show up here but uhhhh guess not......in the silhouette shot of all the zoldycks she and killua were holding hands ;_; my fucking uwus bro 

we also didnt see the grandma or great grandpa so im guessing theyll appear later 

gon being like fuck it im not using my hunters license til i punch hisoka in the fucking face hvbhahsfbjsk thats hilarious 

also a convenient way to let him have his hunters license but not utilize it til later in the story...its so early for him to have achieved that big chunk of his goal, which just shows that hxh is Not your typical shounen and isnt gonna just be centered around gons quest to become a hunter 

so we finally found out what hisoka said to kurapika....just as i thought, it was st to do w/the phantom troupe. so theres a handy setup for the yorknew city arc later. bam 

hisoka just being like ‘hey meet me in this (presumably) very large city on this date. no i will not tell you where in the city to meet me. bye seeya there’ 

tbf hisoka is very hard to miss 

god when they arrive and kurapika is just like ok well we got killua so im out lol bye everyone....bro hvbjkhgbfjhdksfhjk that felt so abrupt 

and then leorio was like oh yeah same i gotta go study time to take the fantasy MCAT or w/e

AND THEY BOTH LEFT....now gon and killua r chilling but im like oh my god no leorio kurapika come back, we need some (questionable) adult supervision over here 

and like immediately killua is like ok gon do you have money. and of Course gon doesnt have money. so killua is like well you need money and you need to train so you can deck hisoka, so lets go to a fantasy version of an underground fighting ring! this is why kurapika and leorio needed to stay 

tho they probably wouldve just gone along with it 

they did all promise to meet in yorknew city, but thats apparently like 6 months away. are gon and killua rlly gonna spend 6 months at heavens arena

the part where killua draws the diagram demonstrating how much of a n00b gon is....hvbajdkhfbhajskf

AND THEN when he drew himself into the diagram and was like :3c wow im so modest HBJHSKHDFHBJS that was so funny

it was like that post thats like ‘you can tell when a cats pupils change and they just shift into Silly Mode’ thats what killua looked like...catboy

so thats basically it i think, gon and killua are heading to heavens arena to join fight club or whatever. tournament arc time! 

PREDICTION CORNER: 

i doubt this is the last weve seen of the zoldyck family. i mean we havent even met 3 of them, and we barely saw the ones we did meet...idk when theyll come back but i suspect theyll be making some big money moves later on and fucking shit up somehow 

i think maybe illumi or someone will like, spy on killua sometimes to keep track of him. or theyll track him by other means

ill use the prediction corner to reflect on incorrect predictions so heres a few. i rlly thot killua was gonna be more edgy than he is but hes rlly just a good boy huh. like hes a gay baby assassin catboy but hes so cute and good too. he just wants to live his life and hang out with his tiny bf like... omg :’) 

also i thot hisoka held a totally different narrative role lbvahkfjhjjaksfl i thot he was like main villain guy....hes more like an annoying creepy clown dude who (probably) shows up a lot to bother the main cast. we’ll see, but thats what i think of him now

like i thought hisoka would be like p1 dio, where hed be/quickly become a powerful antagonist who would amass a bunch of followers/minions (when actually the only person he seems to hang out w/is illumi, and theyre more like equals than an evil guy/minion dynamic)...or like i thought hisoka would be very well known as a scary evil guy but nope he was just another participant in the hunter exam, albeit a weird freaky one whose rancid vibes everyone seemed to pick up on 

anyways actual predictions, i think hisoka is gonna be at heavens arena, which would be super funny. gon is like im gonna train to beat hisoka and he shows up to do that and hisokas just there like >;) hey

i think if i had to guess, the zoldycks will show up again (in a plot important way) at the end of the yorknew arc/before the greed island arc. i know basically nothing abt any of the arcs but i do know the order they go in so theres that

i do think illumi will show up earlier than the other zoldycks tho, since he seems to be out doing his own thing more than the rest. also we still really havent resolved the whole mind control thing that im still convinced of 

i think nen will finally be introduced/alluded to heavily in this arc...or like, characters will use nen and gon will be like whoa whats that 

i think killua knows what nen is...maybe? it would make sense since im sure all the zoldycks can use it (at least, we saw mom zoldyck use it, probably)

can killua use nen already? that would be pretty funny. i dont think so tho. maybe u learn nen at a certain age. i have no idea what nen is 

also isnt gons nen power the power to like, turn into a really buff version of himself or something. how the fuck does that work 

ok enough nonsense its bedtime zzzzz

[justoneday-namjoonii]

Midnight Circus pt.7

☾pairing: Jungkook(?)♡→  reader ☾genre: Angst. Fluff. Mature content. bad boy summer fling au ☾summary: “You’re ten times hotter this summer, you know that?” ☾Series status statement: “She is?” a/n: This is a lil shorter than most chapters and I just want to say I’ve enjoyed going on this story’s journey with you all, it’s been an emo time and I love it^^

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | coming soon

Lying on a yellow blanket in the park, pretty hands combing through his hair like a lullaby. A sweet scent of flowers and churro vendors engulfed his nostrils, reminding him of the confectionaries served at the county fair.

That’s what he so desperately wanted to make his reality, but instead, he stood in the back alley of the vinyl record and music shop, smelling old sweets from the bakery next door. The wind tousled with his hair and the brisk air threatened to nip at the tip of his nose. He was texting a friend but on his way to the sweet escape of his car. When he finally took a seat in the vehicle, he set his phone down and turned on some soft music.

Lately, music has consumed the majority of his time. That, school, and his new job. The bowling alley was nice and all but he decided he should venture into different things in this season of his life. He’s been drawing a lot, thinking, singing, little things that make him feel a tinge of happiness inside—that’s what the counselor said to do anyway. He’s been seeing a counselor secretly, Namjoon suggested it because of the divorce and emotional problems he’s been dealing with. He was reluctant at first, he didn’t feel the need to go to someone with his baggage, but after that episode with you, he felt like he should try it out. And it helped him deal with himself. More importantly, it helped him deal with losing you. He never had you, it was hard for him to say that out loud, but it’s true. 

What you two had was so wrong, in the beginning, it was wrong. That’s what you said, you said you regretted it and if you had the chance to do it again, you’d say no in a heartbeat. He went home to try and forget about it, about you. But oh how very difficult that turned out to be. He wants to know how you are and how your life has been. Somewhere deep down inside of him, he felt like he should be forgiven. He’s demonstrated that a mistake isn’t all he is—he screws up sometimes, but he’s only human.

His phone buzzed and he quickly picked it up.

“Hey,” It was Namjoon on the line, “what’s up?”

By the wind in the background, he was in the park, walking his dog probably. 

“Would you happen to have any acrylic painting paper?”

“Uh, yeah, I should have a few sheets at my place.” That was an odd request. “I can bring them to you or-”

“No!” He sounded almost alarmed. “I’ll come over and get it this evening.” 

“Okay,” Jungkook furrowed his brows in suspicion but went with it anyway. “I’ll see you later then.”

Namjoon sighed, slipping his phone into his pocket as he sat back in the park bench.

“I got them! They only had two left too.” You smile, skipping over to him with two sweet soft pretzels in your hands. “I don’t know how I got them.”

“Because you’re a lucky girl.” He smiles, dimples deep and pretty as always when he reaches out for one of the treats. 

“Yeah, that’s true, I am pretty lucky.” You beam, sitting beside him and tearing a piece of your pretzel to give to the cute ball of fluff sitting next to his feet. “Here puppy, have some yummy pretzel-” 

“Sweets aren’t good for dogs,” He looks at you, giggling when you give it to RM anyway, “you’re gonna spoil him.”

“Like you don’t spoil him already,” You roll your eyes, “he practically thinks you’re his maid.” RM reaches up to like your hand and you return his affection with a well-deserved ear rub. You coo to that little bundle of cuteness. “You love me, don’t you puppy?”

“Yes, he does.” Namjoon suddenly turns your jaw, the sweetest grin on his face when you tilt your head to him. He leans in and kisses you, a peck on the check that made your heart flutter.

He smiles at your rosy cheeks, that color had to be the prettiest thing in the world to him. “We both do.”  

He helps you reach the stars.

Flashback

The prison they call school is now back in session. The break was nice, you spent a lot of time with family and you even went out with your close friends a few times. On New Year's day, you actually went to a party. There were actually quite a few people you’ve never seen before, but one person, in particular, was there—Jungkook. 

The entire night, you did everything in your power to avoid him, but it was inevitable when you were re-introduced to each other by a mutual friend who was unaware of your pre-existing relationship.

“Jungkook,” He shuffled him over to where you were, safely in the corner with a bowl of trail mix, “have you met Y/n? She’s a friend from school, we go way back.”

You were stunned and quickly tried to chew and swallow the pretzel in your mouth. Sitting the trail mix down, you stand up, mouth opening to say something but nothing comes out, your friend probably thinks your just flustered but that’s not the case.

“We, um, we know each other actually,” Jungkook clears his throat, speaking to lessen the awkward silence. “we’ve gone to the same school since preschool.” He glances at you. 

“Y-yeah.” You nod in agreeance.

“Really? Wow, small world.” He laughs, “Well I’ll leave you two to catch up then.” 

He leaves you and Jungkook, still completely unaware of the tension in the air.

Jungkook stands in front of you, eyes hesitant to scan you but he did so anyway. “I haven’t seen you in a while,” He moves to sit on the couch, next to where you were sitting, “how are you?”

“I’m fine, thanks.” You don’t look at him when you say that, you know better than anyone that he rather forget the meeting you had ever happened, that’s why he’s trying not to sound awkward. It’s hard for you to sit here, just to be near him is difficult to stomach. He looks different from the last time you saw him,  almost brighter as if he’s decided to hydrate himself with water instead of cola. 

It’s just silence after that, a silence that brings the thought of what he’s been doing lately to your mind. Honestly, this is the longest you’ve gone without speaking to him, it’s been a few months. Fall had passed, winter came and school started again. 

After what happened during the summer, there was no way you were gonna come out of that the same, there were too many changes. For one, surprisingly, Jimin still contacts you when he gets the chance and you don’t know how to feel about it. Jen often reminds you of the good things Jungkook has done to keep you from completely ripping him in your frequent conversations about him. And then there’s Namjoon—he seems too good to be true, doesn’t he? He listens to you, he wants to help you get over what you went through, and he defends you at all costs. He’s still a confidant to Jungkook and they talk but he never tells you what they talk about. 

One day, he told you that he hadn’t told Jungkook about you two going out after that New Year’s party. He was the first person you kissed to begin the year, it was as magical as they make it look in Manhattan, maybe even more so. That night, you promised yourself that you’d never settle. You’d never open your heart to someone who justs wants to play with it. 

Because let’s be real, Jungkook likes to play, he always has. If it means he can get a little rush or a good feeling out of it, he’ll do it. In this case, he recognized that he felt an attraction towards you and acted on it instantly, and you being the person to Jungkook that you are, you let him.

Just this is just as much of his fault as it is yours. His habit of playing with females was gonna bite him in the butt and it did—he caught feelings. Hilarious. The Casanova, the man with not a single soul tying him down, decided to catch feelings. And not with just anyone, with you of all people, his once mortal enemy. Now he’s really in trouble because you didn’t return those feelings the way he thought you would. So he acted out, tried to take you by force, tried just about anything to get you, but it only pushed you further away. Now you’re living your own life. You’re not letting your past with him dictate your life, he can see that clearly.

“Are you here alone?” He asks, his words somewhat muffled by the pin the tail on the donkey game in the background. 

“No, I’m here with Jen.” You take a bite of your trail mix. “You?”

“Tae’s here somewhere.” You nod at that. ”Namjoon too.”

You brighten up at the mention. “Namjoon is here?” You look around for him. “I haven’t seen him...” 

“Yeah, he’s somewhere.” After a moment of silence, you get up to go look for him and Jungkook’s heart breaks out in a thousand hairline fractures and he merely watches you for the rest of the night. You were able to track down Namjoon, and when you did, you two started to drink a little. Your outfit is flattering, distracting even. Distracting, that seemed to be the only word that came to his mind. He played beer pong, croquet, table tennis, but he kept looking for you, looking to see if you’de be looking at him...

Namjoon pulled you away and it was beautiful. The two of you talked and laughed about everything, he is even more hilarious at night. You two weren’t drunk but your red faces would beg to differ. 

Within the hour, everyone huddles around the TV for the countdown. When the clock strikes twelve you all scream happy new year. Jungkook watches from the sidelines and when he sees you jumping around looking—genuiniely happy—something in him becomes uneasy and he goes outside on the porch to get some fresh air. Just as he does that, Namjoon cups your face with the softest smile and kisses you. 

After that night, Jungkook doesn’t see you again and it tries not to let it tear him apart.

- Flashback End -

You lay sprawled out on your bed, a Greek history book in your hand, and your eyes slowly falling victim to sleep. The plan was to go study with Namjoon but you ended up on a little date at the park—you didn’t mind that though. Just as your eyes were about to close, you hear your phone buzz and you quickly bring it to your ear.

“Hello?” You frown a little bit, sleepiness wearing off almost immediately when you realize that it was a freaking text message, not a phone call. “Hugh...” You bring the phone down to look to see who it’s from and you do a double-take—Jungkook. You distinctly remember telling him to lose your number...

Jungkook [11:23]: i think. i need need u to cakll me

You’re taken aback, completely confused as to why he would be texting you some gibberish like this at this time of night. For a moment, you wait to see if he’s gonna text you back but the typing bubble disappears and you’re getting a phone call from him.

“Oh God no, no.” You stare at your phone, just waiting for it to stop ringing. “Not tonight, we’re not doing this tonight.” You’re saying that more to yourself than anything. After ignoring the call, he calls again and you ignore it, then he calls again, and again, and again, and you cave in. You pick up the phone and hold to your ear.

“What do you want Jungkook? Why do you keep calling me? Do you know what time it is?” You don’t shout, but you do speak with a blunt delivery.

“I need you...I miss, miss you- h-how are you by the way?...” His words are slurred, making him sound odd. “Y/n...” He draws your name out with a tug in his voice—he’s drunk, that is the only reasonable explanation for this. 

“Jungkook,” You sigh, “are you drunk?”

“No, I’m not d- drunk,” He chokes, “I-” He sounds like he’s drinking something at that very minute, “I’m sorry, I’m- so, so- I’m stupid, I’m so stupid, but I need you, I need you bad...Please, please tell me you want me, please...” Now it sounds like he’s crying and you panic, you need to get off this phone.

“Stop that, you need to get off of this phone, I’m gonna hang up, okay? I need to go to bed.” 

“I’m coming over your house,” He pants into the phone for a moment, “I’ll come and do whatever you, whatever you want...please, please...I-...I love you...”

You bite your lip, your heart aching at the drunken rambling. “Jungkook, you drank too much, you need to go to sleep and sober up...”

“Only i- if you tell me you love me, I need you,” He sounds like he’s crying again, “I want you to love me, I know I’m an idiot but I can’t take this, I can’t take it...”

“You don’t love me Jungkook.” You shake your head when you hear him let out a small sob. “We don’t love each other and it’s okay. It’s for the better. Now, I’m gonna hang up, alright?” He doesn’t say anything but you can hear his attempts to steady his breathing. “...Okay, goodnight.”

Long gone is your voice, all he hears is a dial tone taunting him. He tips up a bottle of soju and blinks back some tears. He’s at Yoongi’s place, again. His plan was to go home but he couldn’t resist drinks with Yoongi and Hoseok. But Yoongi was in the shower and Hoseok ran out to get something from the store.

”Jungkook,” Yoongi steps out of the bathroom, eyes scrutinizing a disheveled Jungkook, “what’s the matter?”

Jungkook sniffles, eyes and nose tinted a rosy pink. “She hates me...She fucking hates me.”

“Who?” Just as Yoongi asks that Hoseok walks in, plastic bags in hand.

“Y/n...” Jungkook said your name as if it was painful.

“Oh my God Kook,” Yoongi sighs, “did you call her?”

“Yeah.” 

“Why?” Hoseok joined the conversation. 

“I wanted to talk to her.” He sighs, mind still not processing the problematic appearance of it all. 

“At this time of night? Why would you think it was okay to call her Jungkook? And what did she say?” 

“She said doesn’t love me.”

“You told her that you love her?... “ Jungkook nodded, “Do you love her?” 

“I don’t know, I think so- I know I care about her, y’know? Like, I care about what happens to her...” 

“She’s been going out with Namjoon for the past few weeks, you know that right?”

“She has?” Jungkook’s eyes were glossy and he looked like someone had just taken a dagger to his heart.

“Well, I saw them out a the movies one night and the other day he said they were going for a run together. If that’s not going out, I guess they’re just really close friends.” 

“Jungkook, this might be for the better,” Yoongi interjects. “You two were never together in the first place, so why are you so heartbroken about this?”

That was just it, you two were never together in the first place. There is no logical reason as to why he’s behaving as if that were the case, it’s not. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s trying to get over it, and it’s just taking a while. “I’m not, I’m just trying to stop thinking about her like we had something, I thought we had something, I don’t know why.”

“You need to sleep it off Jungkook, your life doesn’t depend on Y/n.” Hoseok pats his shoulder and heads off to the guest bedroom to get some sleep himself. And Jungkook, after an hour or so of trying to find something on tv, he fell asleep and the world pitied him

You put on your nice top and best jeans because your mom said she had some friends coming over for Sunday dinner. You, of course, weren’t going to stay for the whole thing, due to your social anxiety around friends that aren’t really your own. So, you said you’d stay for a little while, then go out.

“Y/n! You’ve turned out to be such a beautiful young lady.” Mrs. Belle, she’s a long time family friend and she says that every time she sees you.

“Thank you, Mrs. Belle.” She’s sitting next to you at the dinner table as you eat the last few bites of your beans and rice.

“And you’re taking college courses now, right?”

“Yes, I’m just getting my A.A right now, I’ll figure out the rest of my plans when the time comes.” You smile, making sure you cut off any opportunities to talk about your major.

Shen went on about how great that was and how she hopes I can meet up with her son soon and help him out. You said you’d be more than willing to but the fact of the matter is, her son is more of the free-spirit time. In fact, you know Brian well and you know he rather play sports and find vegan burgers rather than talk about college. 

Soon, you’re able to break away from the table and tell your mother you’ll be back soon. Jen texted you early this week, saying she was going on a picnic and a movie screening with Naeun, Nayeon, some other girls and guys. She also said Namjoon would be there. You wondered why he didn’t tell you himself, but you pushed that thought aside and ran upstairs to slip into a cute little sundress. You ran downstairs, bid farewell to your family and hoped in your car. She sent you the location and you put it in your GPS. The drive wasn’t too long, maybe 30 to 40 minutes, give or take a few minutes. When you pulled into the parking lot for the hilly park, you suddenly got a little nervous. Sure, these are your friends and all, but still, they make you nervous sometimes. 

With courage, you get out of your car and bring your little cooler of fruit with you. There are quite a few couples having romantic little picnics, and families as well, your heart swells at the sight. You’re guilty of being a bit of a hopeless romantic and you think it probably shows. Because in reality, you don’t know if you’ve ever had a real boyfriend. You’ve gone on dates but never committed, it’s not a bad thing though, it’s just how it is. 

“Y/n! Over here!” Jen waves you over and you see everyone else wave as well. There were about five blankets around, all with people you know and you greeted all of them.

“Hey,” You take a seat next to Jen and Jin—apparently they’re a thing now—you smile, “how are you guys?”

“Good, you?” Jin responds.

“Great.” You look around, hoping to see Namjoon heading your way but he’s no where to be seen. And in just the nick of time, you get a phone call from him

“Hello?”

“Hey, Jen told me she told you about the picnic, I’m sorry I can’t make it.”

“It’s okay, I understand.” You try not to sound too disappointed. “I’m good.”

“Okay, I’ll see you in class on Tuesday, alright?”

“Alright.” You say goodbye and you settle into a comfortable sitting position as you think of how you wished Namjoon was here, he made you feel really comfortable.

“I’ve missed you bestie.” Suddenly, Jen wraps her arms around you, so tight that you feel like she was probably doing it on purpose.

“How? I see you all the time Jen.” You giggle, unpacking your fruit and setting it out for whoever wants it.

“I know but you’ve been busier these days, which isn’t a bad thing, but we don’t get as much time anymore.” She lets you go and leans back on her hands. “We’ll have to do another trip soon.”

Never.

“I don’t know if I could do another summer like that Jen, maybe with just us girls.” Your tone is a bit bitter and she catches on immediately

“You mean?-”

“You know what I mean.” You look up at the screen the people are setting up. “I can’t do that again.”

“Y/n,” She frowns, knowing you were just at the point of ripping Jungkook apart, “you and Jungkook settled your differences, right?”

“I mean yeah, but-” You pause and look her in the eyes. “He called me last night, but he was drunk.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, he was rambling about how he needed me and asking me to love him, I couldn’t believe it.”

“That’s crazy...He must-” She cuts off what she was about to say and you narrow your brow.

“He must what?”

“Nothing!”

“You said that too quick, say what you were going to say. He must what?”

She’s hesitant to say something, but she caves under your scrutinizing glint. “He must just, miss you.”

You scoff. “No, he doesn’t know what he wants Jen...I honestly think he’s confused and I just hope he can get through it.” You two sort of end the conversation on that, but you don’t stop thinking about it. You never thought Jungkook could really, genuinely miss you, it didn’t sound right in your head. But it could happen, he could somehow feel like there’s a void in his life and it’s because of you. Jungkook did a lot of crap to you that just wasn’t right, but you gave in every time when you could have easily said no, and he used that against you. 

But it’s okay now.

You’ve healed and now it’s Jungkook’s turn to do the same.

But no matter where you go, or what you do, Jungkook will be not too far behind. After the movie had started, you saw him arrive with Yoongi and Hoseok, your heart dropped at the sight of him. Every time you see him unexpectedly, you feel yourself panic a little bit. It’s obvious that he hasn’t yet seen you, and you want to keep it that way. 

Little did you know, he sees you but he does his best not to make that known, he doesn’t want to suffer any more awkward meetings. He settles at a spot on one of the huge blankets and tries to watch the movie. You, on the other hand, you’re scared that he might see you and get embarrassed about what happened last night. Wouldn’t that bruise his ego to know you heard him like that? You thought so.

The night goes on, people end up talking during the movie and Jen asks if anyone will go get some paper plates from the little shop over the hill. You volunteer and scurry off to get the plates.

When you arrive at the little vendor, you have to get in a short line—that’s not too bad. Well, not until you realize who’s standing in front of you.

Jungkook.

And to make matters worse, he glances back at you and you can practically see the blood leave his face.

“Hey.” You’re the first to say something, in hopes that the silence and staring is put to an end.

“H-hey, we seem to keep meeting...” He breathes, referring to the many times you two arrived at the same function by sheer coincidence.

“Yeah....” 

He clears his throat. “So, how have you been? I know we haven’t talked since New Year’s”

No, you two have definitely talked since then.

“Um, pretty good, how about you?”

“I’ve been fine, can’t really complain I guess.” He turns from you so he can purchase some bottles of water from the cashier. Now it’s your turn. 

“Five plates please.” You smile and the man promptly takes your money and gives you the plates in exchange. When you look up, Jungkook is standing there, just looking at you.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’ll walk back with you, if you’re okay with that,” He rushes to make sure this is something you don’t mind. “It’s dark out.” He has a fair point. Instead of saying something, you begin to walk back and he walks beside you, eyes stealing small glances at your dress. You look really pretty tonight, he can’t deny that. But he wills himself to look at his feet, or at anything else, he can’t afford to have you catch him staring. 

You’re feeling so, so awkward. Does he not realize that he called you last night? You were starting to think he was completely unaware of it because he didn’t look uneasy, ashamed, nothing, he acted like the last time you two talked was on New Year’s Day. You two go your separate ways to your own blankets and your mind is spinning with one conclusion. 

He doesn’t know he called you.

[nocoastposts]

Timmy Addiction WIP Parts IV And V (Now Likely A One-Shot For A Series)

(I've reposted part IV since I - gasp - wrote something thematic. I put three bold lines between the two parts. Honestly, I’m really not happy with part V right now. Notes at the bottom.)

(Supplies are endless in the evening / by the morning they’ll be gone)

Late February 2019

Timmy silently slipped off the barstool and made his way toward the exit. He spent the better part of two hours nursing a whiskey and compulsively checking the time. He waited for her and tried to quell his craving with nicotine. It never worked, but at this point, nothing could dull the beast inside him.

Mara texted Timmy around 11:40 telling him she was finishing up with work. She confirmed that she’d replenished today; he smiled and responded that he had as well. He bundled up as he left the bar and began the 15-minute walk to her shabby yet charming studio.

Mara gestured toward her coffee table lazily with one hand, and Timmy placed his own stash next to hers. A small wave of relief came over him as he prepared what they needed.

——————————————————————————————-

(Yeah but me I’m not a gamble / You can count on me to split / But what I tell you in the evening/ By the morning won’t make sense)

Midnight, Late February 2019

Timmy raised his red, blistered knuckles to knock on Mara’s door. She answered with a smile and an eye roll, chiding him for even knocking in the first place. He admitted to himself that Mara’s humble home was his haven, despite never learning her last name.

It’s not that they didn’t care for each other to some extent. They just weren’t lovers nor friends outside of their chemically induced bubble. Neither wanted more or less from the other.

Just a warm body and the orgasmic feeling that stemmed from lazily playing with one another’s hair.

Just soul-bearing conversation and laughs and tears that they’d never remember the next day.

Just another music lover to enjoy the sound of vibration for hours on end.

Just someone to chase the high with.

Just a companion with equal amounts of apathy and detachment.

——————————————————————————————-

(You’re looking skinny like a model / With your eyes all painted black / Just keep going to the bathroom / Only say you’ll be right back / Well it takes one to know one kid / I think you’ve got it bad)

Christmas Eve, 2018

Mara and Timmy met in the same bar he now frequented. They both stood out in the cold, and she asked to borrow his lighter. He nodded, smiled timidly, and handed it over; she gave him a quiet “thank you” in response.

As they smoked in silence, Timmy couldn’t help but see the fishnet stockings peeking out from her oversized leather jacket. He didn’t care either way, but Mara instantly went into fight mode. She was so accustomed to it by now.

“I know what you’re thinking. Yes, my job is legal. No, I won’t suck you off. And my stiletto will blind you with one good hit.“

“Uh-uhm…okay. I mean, I’m gay anyway. It’s just, it’s falling out…” he pointed at the small baggie slipping out of her left stocking. “I figured you’d want to know.” He paused for a beat and added: “especially if it’s that good Mexican brown going around right now.”

Mara locked eyes with Timmy as she cooly appraised him. He did the same, and they seemed to quickly draw the same conclusion. Two kindred spirits, alone on Christmas Eve and chain-smoking under a tattered awning.

“Thanks, kid,” Mara said with another faint smile. She nodded her head toward the entrance and discreetly tucked the baggie into her coat pocket. “Care to take a trip to the bathroom with me?”

Timmy thanked a god he didn’t believe in. Just as he was coming down, this mysterious girl offered him his favorite gift.

‘Merry fucking Christmas to me.’

—————————————————

—————————————————

—————————————————

(And if you promise to stay conscious / I'll try to do the same / Well we might die from that medicine / But we sure killed all the pain)

Mara’s Studio After Midnight, Winter 2019

Timmy and Mara never spoke of the dark possibility that they may not wake up one morning. That was one of many traits that they shared. Both of them were bitter and exhausted from deflecting from their family and sober friends.

So Timmy blocked out the idea of an overdose with the same intense effort he used to forget a certain pair of azure colored eyes. In his mind, both equated some form of inevitable death, anyways.

Despite their silent agreement, Timmy kept naloxone in his bag at all times after his first night at Mara’s studio. He discovered that she kept Narcan in her cramped, dark bathroom. The silent presence of the life-saving drug said more than words ever could.

(What was normal in the evening / By the morning seems insane)

Mornings, Winter 2019

Regret was a ghost that no longer haunted Timmy. Shame didn’t seep in through the blinds along with the sunlight. This was his life now and pretending otherwise was pointless.

Yet he couldn’t ignore the physical reminders that hit him like a freight truck. The cold sweats and shakes he passed off as nerves in public settings. The aches that radiated from head to toe and kept him buried beneath covers.

When Timmy woke up with these pains, he’d sometimes allow himself a moment to second-guess this so-called life. These moments vanished quickly; cravings always trumped the brief clarity.

(And I'm not sure what the trouble was / What started all of this / The reasons all have run away/ But the feeling never did)

Evenings, Winter 2019

In the early stages, Timmy halfheartedly tried Narcotics Anonymous and other programs. When the time came to address the root of his addiction, he knew that moving forward wasn’t an option.

Timmy and Mara both knew better than to ask each other certain questions. Never ask why the habit started. Don’t inquire about the origin of the pain. They wanted to believe that none of it mattered.

Despite not asking questions, both of them volunteered bits and pieces about their misery. Jumbled thoughts poured out naturally during the high.

About broken relationships.

About the wrong kind of touches.

About closed casket funerals.

Timmy locked his sorrows away when he was sober. But his late-night confessions made it clear that he still cared. Still remembered. Still felt something.

(Cause what is simple in the moonlight / By the morning never is / It was simple in the moonlight / Now it's so complicated)

______________________________________________________

So, notes:

I’m not fully satisfied with Part V.

The ‘Timmy Addiction’ WIP isn’t working as a chapter-style fic. 

Instead, I’m going to do a series. It’ll likely start with this, and will be followed by finished versions of I, II, and III.

I have more songs in mind for this fic (this one is Lua by Bright Eyes).

I have not set an AU for this and don’t know if I want Timmy and Armie to be celebrities or not. What do you all think? 

I’m gonna get this on ao3 soon unless I chicken out. 

Feedback welcome!

[ontherockswithsalt]

A Made Man

/1/ /2/ /3/ /4/ /5/ /6/ /7/ /8/ /9/ /10/ /11/ /12/ /13/ /14/ /15/ /16/ /17/ /18/ /19/ /20/ /21/ /22/ /23/

Chapter 24.

“Hey.” I whisper into Noble's messy hair as I set my hands on the bed and lean over him. “Noble.”

“Mm.” He merely hums his sleepy response into his pillow.

“I gotta go soon.”

He turns onto his stomach beneath the covers and murmurs, “No you don't.”

“I do,” I laugh. “It's seven.”

With a quick inhale, he lifts his head, pushing himself up. “Oh shit.”

“It's okay.” I sit down on the edge of the mattress. “I've got a car coming.”

He takes a moment to turn and get himself upright, sliding his hands up his face while he wakes up. Scratching a hand at the back of his head, he finally squints one eye at me. “Damn, how long have you been up?”

I glance down at myself, already showered, dressed and packed. “Not long.”

A soft moan rumbles in his throat and he leans forward, bringing me into a hug. Ducking down, he rests his face against my chest. “You want some breakfast?”

“No.” I wrap my arms around his bare back, my palm skating a path there before moving into his hair. “I'm good. I want you to go back to sleep.”

“With you,” he mumbles, already halfway there.

I have to smile despite the bittersweet tug at my heart. “I can't.”

He sighs. “I know.”

“We knew this one would be short,” I remind him and he nods before I add, “It was fun though.”

I can hear the smirk in the low chuckle before he sits back. “It was fun. Considering you were only here for all of what, sixteen hours or something, we did alright.”

“We definitely… crammed a lot in while I was here--”

Noble's shoulders drop as he tilts his head to offer me an unimpressed look. “Get out of my house.”

Amused with myself, I push against his chest and then dive forward to tackle him back to the pillow as I climb over top of him.

“Ugh!” He calls out a dramatic groan as he holds me against him. “Don't you have somewhere to be?”

“Yes.” Nuzzling my face into his neck, I bite an affectionate little kiss there. Then I force myself to sit back up and reach for my phone to check the status of my ride. “Stay naked. Don't get up,” I tell him as I get to my feet. I need to just go because prolonging the inevitable makes it more painful.

He reaches out to pull me to him once more, dragging palms down my back. Resting his forehead low on my stomach, he sits there for a quiet moment.

I run my hand over his hair, appreciating the way he feels, knowing I'll be without it until the next time.

He manages another deep breath and lifts his head to look up at me. “I'll talk to you tonight.”

“Okay.” I lean down, tilting his face in my hands and press a kiss on his lips. Then another on his forehead before I mess up his hair even more and back away. “I'm out of here. I love you.”

Tipping over to fall back onto his pillow, he settles an arm behind his head. “Love you too,” he murmurs.

Retreating, I go for my backpack, steal one more glance at him before I head out the door. I let myself out as my ride pulls up in front of his house. And once more, I'm on my way back to the city alone.

***

Jamie: Fuck I'm so tired.

I send off the text and let my hand drop heavy on the bed. I shouldn't let myself lie down, but I have a short window of time between getting home from the airport and needing to leave for my dad's. Just long enough to get sleepy with the cold December fog still hanging in the air outside.

Noble: You home?

Jamie: I'm home.

Noble: No sleep on the plane?

Jamie: You know I can't.

Noble: You shouldn't have had that shit tequila. I told you.

I manage a lazy chuckle and type back: That shit tequila was probably the tamest thing that went down last night so I doubt that prompted my fast downfall.

Noble just texts back a smug faced emoji.

Noble: Personally I liked your downfall.

Jamie: I bet. How do you feel?

Noble: Uh… hurting.

Jamie: Are you really?

Noble: lol yeah. But I'm fine.

I probably went harder than I should have for his first time. I really tried, but damn I wanted him so bad and we were four or five cocktails deep. And honestly after the night we had, the teasing and the muttered promises and the anticipation, it's amazing I managed the restraint that I did. Being on top definitely gave me an appreciation of how good he really is to me. As exhausted as I am, I still stir a little at the memory of him inside me and shift as I attempt to suppress the aching want.

Noble: At least I can nap all day. I feel bad you can't get some more sleep.

Jamie: I'll go to bed early tonight. Don't feel sorry for me. It's the best kind of tired.

Noble: Hell yeah it is. Also guess what. Don't judge me, I'm still not dressed and haven't left my room.

Jamie: Seriously? I've flown all the way up the east coast and you're still naked in bed?

Noble: Hey, I showered. But then… you know.

Jamie: It only hurts because that's exactly where I want to be right now.

He sends back a series of hearts and a little pathetic groan rumbles in my chest.

Jamie: Are you wearing your glasses?

Noble: Yes.

Jamie: You're so damn cute.

Damn I'm in some kind of sappy ass mood.

Noble: I'm lazy and fucked. And I miss you.

Jamie: Then I'd consider that a successful weekend visit.

Noble: It definitely was. You did good.

Jamie: I'll try not to be distracted by these thoughts while I get through dinner with my family.

Noble: Let me know how that goes.

***

“Uncle Jamie, where were you yesterday?” Sean questions me as soon as I make my way into the living room at my dad's house. There, my youngest nephew sits on the floor facing the coffee table, a growing stack of Uno cards between him and my grandpa who's half paying attention from the couch with the Jets-Packers game on behind Sean's head. “You missed my game. I scored six points!”

“Aw, bud I'm sorry I missed it.” I dodge the question. “Next Saturday, I promise.”

“Promise,” Sean asserts. “It's our last game before Christmas break.”

“You got it,” I assure him.

“Your turn, Pop,” Nicky speaks up then looks from her cards to me. “Hey, next Saturday you're taking me driving. Don't forget.”

I shrug and look at her. “I can do both. We'll go for a drive in the afternoon.”

She quirks a pleased little smile.

Behind the couch, I lean down next to Grandpa's shoulder and gesture to the cards in his hand. “Play the Skip, and the Draw Two,” I tell him.

Slowly, he turns to look at me. “Do you mind?”

With a laugh, I stand upright, leave him with a gentle pat and look toward the kitchen.

“We can deal you in if you want to play,” he tells me.

“Maybe after dinner. I'm gonna see if they need any help.”

I make my way through the living room and return to the kitchen where Danny and my sister stand at the island prepping a salad.

“Hey, look who it is!” Danny announces.

“Hey.” Greeting him with a happy slap on the back, I move over to Erin and she offers me the angle of her face for a kiss while she works. I oblige and press a quick peck there. “Smells good, Linda.”

“Pork loin!” Danny’s wife calls out.

“Sean missed you yesterday, kid,” my brother reminds me.

I cut him off before he can guilt me more, even though he will anyway. “I know, I know. But I can’t always make it on Saturday mornings. I promised him I'll be there for the next.”

Danny mutters an unconvinced hum and glances up at me. When he does, a smirk slants across his mouth. “What's with you? You look like crap.”

I chuckle. “Thanks a lot.”

“You do look rough,” Erin notes.

“You work a midnight?” He questions.

I swallow. “Nah.” I could use that excuse but it's too easy to invalidate if he wanted. “I wonder if Dad would mind if I went ahead and put on coffee though.” Muttering it more to myself, I turn to the coffee pot on the back counter and starting preparing a pot.

“See?” Erin notes. “After thirty, it's one big downward spiral.”

“Not me,” Danny quips. “Some of us age into our good looks. Ain't that right, Lin?”

“Sure thing, hon,” his wife calls out from the stove in the corner where she works on the sauce.

My brother carries on. “Because I live an honest life--”

I glance up with a roll of my eyes. “Oh, here we go.”

“You don't see me out all hours of the night doing God knows what, missing family gatherings, can’t be bothered to shave--”

“Come on, Danny,” I duck my head away when he reaches out and knocks the back of his hand against my jaw amid Erin’s encouraging giggles. “Where have you seen me out at all hours of the night other than a late tour?”

“I haven't. But that’s the only explanation for this look--” He turns and with peeler in hand, gestures to my face. “What were you doing?”

“Nothing, jeez,” I contend as I return to the island.

“Or who?” Erin murmurs before she slides a chopped carrot into her mouth and coyly averts her gaze.

My brows draw together and I can feel my eyes widen at my sister. “Wh-at?”

“Ha!” Danny coughs. “Exactly.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Then I steal a piece of carrot for myself and crunch down on it.

“He thinks you have a girlfriend,” Erin provides.

“And I think I’ve narrowed it down,” my brother chimes in. “To Laura…”

My gaze narrows while I chew. “The M.E.?”

“Yep. Or--” He tilts his head side to side while he slides his chopped vegetables into the salad bowl. “That lawyer at the D.A.’s office. The cute one with the dark hair.”

Erin points to him. “Michelle. I planted that in your head. But she does have this sweet little crush on you any time you come by the courthouse.”

With a deep inhale, deciding to string Danny along about this, I fold my arms over my chest while I consider the possibilities. “Uh-huh. Where's your evidence?”

“Oh, I'm glad you asked,” He points to me. “For starters, you're way too damn happy considering the crap you gotta deal with all day--”

I scoff. “What, you want me to be depressed?”

“No, but there's been a change, and even your sergeant noticed and we don't appreciate the mystery,” Danny explains.

“Ah. Mm-hm, okay,” I muse. “Not sure that's a compelling argument.”

“Two. You got a picture on the inside of your locker at the precinct of a freakin’ sunrise on the beach. And another of a sunrise in the city from some kinda balcony--”

I can't help the amused breath that escapes with the knowing quirk of my smile. One of those, Noble took and the other, I took from his penthouse one morning and they're sort of the closest thing to him that I can have with me at work that would go unnoticed, mundane at a glance. At least I thought.

“So clearly I'm dating Laura from the M.E.’s office,” I suppose.

“I don't know but the day my kid brother has pictures hanging up of the damn sunrise is the day I start asking questions.”

“Oh, I think that's nice,” Linda speaks up.

Danny turns to regard her. “But this is Jamie we’re talking about.”

“How do you know what I have hanging in my locker?” I question.

“I got my sources.” He shrugs. “And third. I saw a pair of sunglasses in your car that no way you bought yourself. They were obviously a gift.”

“Damn.”

He points at me. “You would never buy Ray-Bans… turtle--” He turns to Erin. “What was it?”

“Tortoise shell Ray-Ban wayfarers,” she contributes. “I saw them. They're a good look but out of your price range.”

I tip my head up, letting out a disbelieving laugh. “You act like I dropped a grand on them or something.”

“Your broke ass would never is all I'm sayin’.”

“Danny--” Linda injects. “Lay off your brother.”

“Don't you agree--” Danny maintains. “That Jamie's been different? There's something going on.”

“He's not a suspect because he's happier, Danny,” she reasons.

“Yeah, Danny,” I agree. “Besides, if I had a girlfriend, why would I keep it from you?”

“Just to mess with me.”

I nod thoughtfully. “Well apparently I'm already doing a good job of that.”

“You got an alibi for Saturday morning?”

Dammit. My tired brain struggles for an excuse that doesn't involve other people he could check with, or does involve someone who'd corroborate if Danny did check. “Uh let's see. I went to the gym. I came home and ate oatmeal--”

“Alright smartass,” he dismisses while Erin laughs beside him.

“I had promised Vinny I'd help him tear out his floors,” I manage. “It took us half the day. That's why I didn't make Sean's game.” Thankfully Vinny really is renovating his kitchen because I wouldn't put it past Danny to drop in on his apartment just to check.

“Tearing out floors,” Danny confirms.

With a nod, I spread my hands as if that's all there is to it. “I'll try to act a little more hostile and bummed out, though. If it would get you off my case.”

“Thank you.”

Linda cuts in. “You two help me carry to the table.”

I reach between my siblings for the salad bowl and cut a disapproving shake of my head. “By the way, I would never date a medical examiner.”

[guileheroine]

red vines  (chapter 1)

Adora's life is finally beginning to fall into place, but the snare of a fraught friendship keeps pulling her backwards. Catradora coming of age/high school AU / 1.5k / ao3

Read 16:15.

Adora blinks, her mouth thin and expressionless, eyes boring into the little grey word in the corner of the screen. Over the way too many minutes since last Saturday that she has spent staring at it to absolutely no avail, it's drawn from her frowns and pouts and scowls plenty and, yeah, maybe not a few frustrated tears.

It's Friday now and she no longer has the energy for any of that, but she still can't stop looking. Trying to will it to life, as if she wouldn't be alerted as soon as there was anything worth looking at.

The bus arrives. She clicks her phone off and pockets it quickly, sticking her thumb in her belt loop to suppress the instantaneous urge to reach again.

She has other things to think about. Practice, and what would be an appropriate thing to bring to the sleepover at Glimmer’s tonight - she should bring something, right? - and the science homework that probably needs to be figured out before she leaves. (It requires a little more… imagination than what she's used to, and actually, now she figures she’ll probably ask one of the girls for help over the weekend.)

Once Adora has sat down, she can't not draw out her phone again. The Princess Group Chat - unimaginatively named because Bow and Glimmer wouldn’t quit changing it back and forth, until Mermista seized their admin powers without warning and locked it - is blowing out silent red notifications like a little bubble machine. Adora watches them without opening the chat, content with the weirdly warm knowledge that she would be welcome to.

She knows that Catra definitely has nothing like that.

And immediately, she feels awful for knowing it.

Her wrist loosens and the phone falls into the dip between her thighs. She glances straight ahead out of the window, at the blur of trees and houses. It's neither sunny nor cloudy out - the perfect balance, in her opinion. The steady rumble of engine, the rhythm of the journey, lulls her deeper into her mind.

So she and Catra haven't really been on speaking terms since she transferred to Brightmoon. Well, Catra isn't speaking to Adora .

The blunt sadness seeps slowly through her chest the way it does each time she confronts the thought headlong - it surprises her, though it really shouldn't at this point. Adora’s fingers itch. She clasps the cool handrail and squeezes.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Catra had shown up on her doorstep after the first week of school, arms crossed tight, eyes narrowed. A sunny September morning.

“I told you,” Adora answered, though she didn’t repeat what that answer was, and its absence hung in the air as she stood back and munched on her granola bar. She’d sent a clipped sort of text a couple of weeks before: Btw yeah I’m probably going to Brightmoon next semester - and on the few occasions they had hung out in the intervening days, neither had brought it up. Frequently, the sudden remembrance was a gut punch, meaning that she had ignored the inevitability hard enough to convince even herself.

Adora was in denial that Catra was denial.

And if she had thought that Catra was peeved before.

Catra’s eyes had slitted dangerously as she stood before her and put her hands on her hips. “Uh, wait, did you tell me? Adora?!”

Adora met her eyes squarely, suppressing the guilt that welled up in her stomach. “I’m going to Brightmoon this year. Mom and Dad agreed it was for the best. I needed a fresh start and you know how the team’s been getting to me, I haven’t been myself at Horde…I told you, I did tell you.” She began evenly, but by the end she was placatory - pleading in a way she did not want Catra to see her be.

Catra looked contemplative for the briefest moment, and then, like she had only been humoring her, her frown returned with a vengeance. Adora could barely look at her. She picked uneasily at the cuff of her shorts. The air was stifling.

“So you’re abandoning me?” Catra demanded finally, and pulled the door shut in her own face before Adora had a chance to answer.

In the wake of the deafening slam, Adora didn’t know whether to feel distraught or relieved.

She hadn’t been thinking of Catra, was the honest, uncomfortable truth. She had been thinking of all the wretched hours just withering in class at Horde High, of the dread that loomed on her once-eager walk to soccer practice, the dirty looks fielded her way from classmates and teammates alike when they thought she couldn’t see. At the end of the semester she had gone straight to Principal Hordak with her polite but frank speech planned out.

Catra is nothing if not scrappy. She’ll survive just fine without her. It’s not like they’ll never see each other (or she had hoped.) It’s not like they weren’t friends before either of them ever joined the team, or came to Horde.

Adora sighs aloud. She pushes her knees together to prevent her phone from slipping out between them, but she doesn't pick it up again, heart heavy as she returns to her mind's recesses after the brief interruption.

Coach Weaver hadn’t been happy when she told her, after her final practice. In fact, it would probably be an understatement to say she was unhappy with Adora’s “drastic, don’t you think?” decision. Instead of the sympathetic disappointment she might have expected to receive from any other teacher, she had responded to Adora’s announcement with a curt “I see” - but Adora could feel the heat of the resentment blistering behind her sharp eyes, her talon-like nails practically puncturing the ratty glove in her hand.

She'd slinked out of the changing rooms just as Catra strode in, but Catra didn’t comment on Adora’s slump if she had noticed it. Catra chose not to notice anything contrary to her desires.

Anyway, from day one, Brightmoon Academy had been a whirlwind. Having promised herself a break from soccer, however temporary, Adora had tried out for the cheer squad. She can still see the stars in Glimmer’s eyes as she bowed out of her final somersault. Life with the Princesses of Power is a dream: she had learnt no sooner than she’d smoothed the gold shoulders of her new uniform that this squad was a squad, as Bow had enthused, practically yelling his welcome as he slung his arm around Adora’s shoulders. Some of the seniors on the team weren’t quite as excitable, but it was wonderfully clear - from all the plastic bottles of homemade punch Perfuma brought everyone, from the speedy attention with which Netossa stitched up any loose seams in their uniforms - that they were equally devoted to their squad-squad.

Adora had been swept away. Junior year had outshone the rest in less than a week. The first few weeks of school had put everything not-Brightmoon from her thoughts - between the overwhelming tide of eager new friends, stimulating classes, intriguing extracurriculars, there was just no space for anything else when she felt like her mind was expanding in real time just to contain all the novelties.

Anything except Catra, that is.

The regret had been gnawing at Adora somewhat surreptitiously, catching her unawares, deflating her at the most unexpected moments. She was on air and then suddenly she wasn’t. Finally, at the park last weekend, she had hung back from Glimmer and Bow while they huddled around Perfuma’s pet frog, and pulled out her phone to text Catra.

Hey. Can we talk?

Read in a matter of minutes.

Catra, seriously. You cant just ignore me.  Please please let’s talk

Read immediately, before her eyes.

But it's been a week and they definitely aren't talking.

A new slew of notifications lights her phone up. She shifts her thigh to turn it face up, reading each text from the lock screen before it's displaced by the next.

Spinnerella:                WE’RE MAKING COOKIES <3

                                   For tonight

･ﾟ*✧･ glimmer ✧･ﾟ*:  mom says pick up milk, i’m telling you guys so you dont forget to remind me

mermz:                       milk and cookies, what are we, 4?

[bow emoji]:                we are young adults who know hw

                                   the JOY of milks and cookies

･ﾟ*✧･ glimmer ✧･ﾟ*:  its FOR MOM

[bow emoji]:                sure sure so is perfuma's weed

･ﾟ*✧･ glimmer ✧･ﾟ*:  uh that's *her* mom's weed

Tonight, practice is at some old warehouse place that Entrapta has managed keys to from her parents, since all the rooms at school were booked up. They're meeting at her place. As the bus approaches the stop, Adora finally picks her phone back up.

She pulls tight on her ponytail, on the straps of her new backpack, and hops off.

[stopthepres]

“who’s texting you?”

doe shifts in closer in our lori’s booth to rest her head on my shoulder, using what looks like innocent affection to spy on a few incoming messages from cait. she huffs and rolls her eyes so i don’t even bother to respond, shoving my phone into my pocket to keep it away from her.

the last thing i need is her sending a pissed off response. she’s been known to hijack my phone when she’s unsatisfied with how i’m handling a conversation.

“she’s just being cait,” i explain, worried about a potential explosion. “it’s whatever.”

“it’s whatever?” doe lifts her head off my shoulder and reaches for my milkshake glass to slide it in front of her instead because she’s already finished hers. or maybe she thinks i don’t deserve to finish my own drink. “she’s being a total nightmare.”

“she’s your friend,” i remind her. i don’t understand the politics of how women work but i suspect it’s way more advanced than anything that happens between men. “you should probably be nice to her now that teddy’s all wifed up.”

“she should stop trying to talk to you when she knows we’re on a date.”  

“when she thinks we’re on a date.” i regret making this distinction immediately when i feel doe’s elbow make rough contact with my ribs. “hey, what the hell did i do?”

“you’re going to blow our cover!”

“literally nobody is listening to us right now.” sometimes i get the feeling doe thinks we’re on a really low budget reality show. or maybe she’s practicing just in case we ever get the offer from e! because they’ve run out of other stupid content. “plus,” i go on, booping the tip of her nose with my finger, “you already posted sappy anniversary stuff on both our accounts so mission accomplished, yeah?”

“that doesn’t mean romance is dead now, p.” doe knocks her shoulder against mine and then leans in to take a sip from my milkshake, making sure not to break eye contact with me. “we’ve been pulling this off pretty good. we don’t want to screw it up.”

we’ve been doing this fake dating thing for a month now. and a month may not seem like enough reason to pull out the anniversary word but me and doe don’t generally last beyond the first date with most people we meet. my dad is starting to latch onto the idea that this is my big chance at all the things i’ve been telling him for years i don’t want.

i still don’t want those things but doe and i celebrated our month long experiment with commitment anyways. for appearances mostly but it’s not like i’d ever turn down going to a cheesy skate rink and then coming to lori’s once our legs tired out. i fell so many times but doe always helped me back up again. there’s a metaphor in this but it’s lazy and we’re better than that.

my phone goes off again before i can say anything to doe’s complaining and her superhuman hearing notices it chiming in my pants. her eyes narrow and she shifts in closer but i scoot away to keep the same distance. “what are you doing?”

“is that her again?” she sounds ready to draw blood. “you need to check.”

“better yet, we can ignore her,” i suggest slowly. “or whoever it is.”

“has she been texting you a lot lately? i didn’t realize you two, like, gave a shit about each other.”

right about now i wish i could hit rewind to the moment during the corny couples skate when she guided me back against a wall to kiss me even though my legs threatened to slide out from underneath me. her mouth tasted like cherry coke and i couldn’t stop thinking about how badly i wanted to get my hands underneath her skirt. i have no idea how it’s possible for one person to drive me out of my fucking mind.

not always in a good way though. because right now we’re not making out. right now she’s glaring at me like i’ve wronged her even though she isn’t really my girlfriend. if this relationship actually existed, i still don’t see the problem with talking to somebody we’ve both known a long fucking time.

“why are you acting like this is a big deal?” i take my milkshake back and she rolls her eyes while making a show of turning her head away from me while crossing her arms. “all she does is ask about me and you 99% of the time so it’s harmless.”

“or she’s waiting for me to inevitably piss you off so she can be all cool girl about it and get you to want to fuck her instead.”

suddenly i feel stupid. why else would cait be so interested in what i have to say lately? she’s never paid much attention to me. there’s always been other guys to keep her distracted. or she straight up leaves the room within five minutes of me showing up half the time. doe’s made a lot of overdramatic accusations over the years but this one? this one makes sense.

“so you think she’s jealous?” i sound excited at the possibility this could be true and i immediately regret letting my voice squeak upward like that. i’m embarrassed by it, sure. it’s definitely the opposite of attractive. and yet the regret comes from knowing i will never hear the end of it if doe thinks i want cait to be jealous. that’s not part of the plan.

it’s getting harder to pin point why we’re doing all of this now that no other girl has shown interest in me since teddy’s wedding.

“why does it matter?” she finally turns back to me and i can feel how annoyed she is. that energy fucking radiates from doe. sometimes i think i can feel it clear across town when she purposely leaves my texts on read for hours than only sends a shrug emoji when she finally responds. “she’s not your type.”

“maybe i don’t have a type?”

“well, maybe you don’t have a girlfriend either.”

“…uh, right. i don’t.” and i laugh.

i laugh when i’m so nervous it’s hard to figure out what else to say. doe knows that but this is one of those moments when doe doesn’t care she knows me better than anybody else. it doesn’t matter she knows i laughed when my parents told me they were splitting up for good. i laughed when the counselor told me i might fail the eighth grade after missing too many days of school for reasons we really don’t need to get into right now. i laughed when i caught my college girlfriend cheating on me. i laughed when i got a pile of rejection letters from all the east coast schools i thought would get me out of here.

i laughed when we thought brady might be sick again. that was the worst one.

so i laugh when it hits me how insane it is i’ve been putting all my time into a fake relationship when someone like cait might potentially want me. yeah, i’m all about scaring off boring people but would it be the worst to find someone who genuinely wants me as a boyfriend?

it feels a lot like doe won’t ever be that person. if this is only a game, she’s never going to love me, right?

“right. you don’t.” she sounds so sure of it that my stomach somehow starts to digest the rest of my internal organs. “i’m not your girlfriend, preston. damn. sucks to be you! everything’s soooo hard for you. wow! spending all your time with me because of this! what a rough time for you.”

“oh my god, i never said any of that.” i laugh again. god, i need to stop letting that shit bubble up before i can stop it. “being with you all the time is actually really fucking easy doe. like, way easier than anything else in the world. it’s just-“

“just what?” doe sounds like she’s giving me challenge instead of posing a question and i’m not brave enough to meet her halfway.

i’m not ready to face why suddenly it feels easier to think about cait’s eyes and her laugh and how it felt the one time she moved a curl away from my forehead when i had a fever while doe was out of town with nate. fucking nate! how the hell did he get doe in a way i haven’t? where’s the freaking justice in that?

“just forget it,” i sigh, grabbing the copy of our check off the table and sliding out of the booth as fast as i can. “i’m gonna pay and we can bounce.”

she trails behind me mumbling god knows what, staring at her phone while tapping out messages that i’m sure are going to teddy or kat or whoever earned the privilege of dealing with her current state of rage. she leaves me alone to deal with the cashier and i find her standing by my car with her arms crossed again, leaning against the passenger side door.

“are you seriously mad at me?” i step in closer and she bites her lip when i tap the toe of my shoe against hers. “i’d, like, delete her number if you asked me to and that’s not even a joke. you know that. i’m fucking whipped.”

“i don’t know, sounds a lot like you’d happily trade me in.” she tilts her head back to look up at me, squinting like she’s trying to make sense of me for the first time ever, like she’s turned to a new page of one of those magic eye books she used to buy at book fairs. “what’s going on with you, raimi? you’re seriously wasting your time on cait when you’ve got me?”

i don’t have her though. that’s what’s making me crazy. that’s what makes cait appealing.

i can’t say that right now. i can’t say anything.

so i just laugh and spend the entire drive back to doe’s wondering if i should text cait back in the morning. 

[donvex]

November Noise

Fandom: IT (2017)

Pairing: Reddie ( Richie Tozier / Eddie Kaspbrak )

Word Count: 2k

Summary: The world is silent, cold. Eddie has had nights like this before, where he feels so utterly alone, but he’s never been kept awake this long. He can’t shake this feeling of isolation, but thinking of all those times that Richie has climbed through his window to keep him company no matter which of them it was that was having a bad night, he decides to do what he never does - slip out his window, and go to Richie’s for once instead.

AO3 Link

For @killerxqueer my inspiration ♥

Novembers in Derry are seemingly quiet. Families cling even closer, bugs start dying, and after the birds stop chirping, there's essentially nothing left alive.

Just silence. Peaceful, overwhelming, suffocating silence.

Eddie wraps his blanket around him tighter, feeling a shiver run through his spine. The world seems so cold, on nights like this, when he feels violently alone.

He usually lets himself suffer. Either sleep will come to him, or better yet, Richie will inevitably climb through his window. 

But there's no sign of either coming to him tonight, and now all Eddie can do is squeeze his eyes shut and try not to panic. Try to pinpoint what color the spots on the inside of his eyes are. Hope that staring will make him dizzy enough that he can focus on physical illness instead, because he knows how to categorize that. He doesn’t know what to do with panic, he just knows that if he does, he’ll lose himself, or he’ll have an asthma attack and wake his mother, and both sound terrible. Maybe more terrible than sitting here all night, trying to force himself to vomit, as if that will rid him of all his pains.

He’s restless, and as the numbers on his clock tick up, he starts to worry. This isn’t how it goes, this is never how it goes. Why did he feel like he was falling?

There’s a moment of hesitation, but once Eddie's made the decision, he's slipping out of his bed with determination. All of his movements are quick, calculated. He knows what he'll need and what he won't as he fills his backpack, and he doesn't stop to think about what might happen if he isn't back before his mom comes to wake him up.

He opens the window, and immediately brisk air fills up the room. That’s where the hesitation comes, seeping in with the autumn chill, but he can’t stay. Not like this. Not when he can’t breathe and can’t think, and especially not when he knows that all the medicine in the world won’t help him.

He steps lightly onto the roof, unfamiliar with the footing. It’s been years since he’s had to do this, but it comes back to him quickly. He pulls the strings on his jacket tighter, tries to tug his collar closer to his neck, and grabs his bike.

He wishes he had a car, but he had felt like he didn’t need one. Richie was his ride to, well, everywhere. They never went out by themselves, so why get another car if they were just going to carpool anyway?

But Richie wasn’t his ride, not right now. So Eddie sucks it up, forgets the fact that he can hardly feel his legs, and pedals.

The air stings against his cheeks, flushed and bright against the dark sky. As soon as he’s there, he drops is bike in the grass, doesn’t bother to hide it by the side of the house.

Richie’s house.

Eddie climbs quickly, and doesn’t even knock. Richie barely remembers that he needs to lock the front door, let alone his windows. Eddie throws the glass open before squeezing through, stumbling over his own legs and taking a moment to just stare at the carpet beneath his knees while he catches his breath.

There’s almost no noise, not even a soft wind from outside. Just Eddie’s shallow breathing.

Richie, only covered by a sheet haphazardly thrown on top of him, is already halfway sliding off the mattress. He’s quick to wake to the cold, and just as quick to recognize that something is very, very wrong.

“Geez, Eds, where’s the fire?”

He doesn’t get a response.

Richie may have never been able to break the habit, even into their late teenage years, sneaking over to Eddie’s house almost daily and slipping through the window frame that he had by far outgrown. But Eddie. Eddie didn't climb through windows. Not unless Richie was coming to his house to drag him out, taking him by the hand and leading him off towards pointless adventures.

Treasured memories, but pointless nonetheless.

Now Eddie was here, sitting at the foot of his bed, hands trembling just enough to be noticeable. He doesn’t seem to even recognize where he is, eyes hollow and distant. Richie jumps the rest of the way off his bed, grabbing the heavier blanket from the floor and wrapping it around Eddie’s shoulders. He shuts the window behind them before gently taking Eddie’s hand and leading him over to the bed. “Come on, get your ass in bed.”

Eddie is compliant, crawling into the bed and scooting over all the way to the wall. He curls up tightly, as if making himself as small as possible, and Richie is having none of it.

“Nuh uh, Eddie boy. You’re coming over here, you got it?”

Richie lays next to him and pulls the smaller boy to his chest, wrapping his gangly limbs around him and nuzzling into Eddie’s soft brown hair. They lay like that for a while, and emptiness seems to hang in the air around them, until finally (finally) Eddie seems to stir. He pulls the blanket tighter, presses his nose closer to Richie’s chest, and lets his hands idly trace the few tattoos Richie has been able to afford.

Eddie knows they all have some sort of sentimental meaning, and that’s what he longs for.

Meaning.

He mutters this to Richie, who lets him talk. Slow, open, and welcomed. It’s such a different way to live, contrasting harshly with every form of love Eddie had grown up with.

Had his mother known he had felt this way, she would have sent him to three different hospitals, four different therapists. And maybe a therapist would help, had Eddie not already known that his mother would insist she be present, as if she had the legal right. Had Eddie not already known that when his mother didn’t get her way, she would politely let it drop - until she came to pick Eddie up from therapy, and interrogated him then and there while he was trapped in the passenger seat of her car. Sonia Kaspbrak loved her son, loved him dearly, and Eddie knew this too. But love didn’t excuse her actions, didn’t make it hurt any less, didn’t fix this anxious hell that fell upon him when he was isolated in his room at night. He felt so guilty, when he thought of it. He felt guilty for resenting her, when she had only wanted what was best for him. Yet he felt equally guilty when he loved her back, ashamed of feeling so trapped in familial bonds.

But Richie was different.

Richie was vibrant and wild and wicked. Richie never held himself back. Richie was exuberant, lavishly abundant in affection and noise, incorrigible to the point of fond exasperation. Richie, who only wore one pair of shoes, tattered and full of holes. Richie, whose socks never matched, whose grin was always crooked. Richie, who was always there to hold Eddie in his arms, no matter the time.

He was different. And he was perfect.

Eddie unburied himself, just enough to look up at Richie, and was surprised to find Richie staring at him in return, the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile.

“Watcha thinkin’ about, Eddie Spaghetti?”

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?”

“A thousand. And then another thousand after that. I’d start now, if I were you, Eddie Spaghetti.” Eddie laughs softly, and Richie’s heart swells as the vibrations thrum through his chest. “Come on, Eds. What’s up?”

“Sometimes…” a deep breath, “sometimes you’re the only person that makes me feel important, Rich.”

Richie presses an uncountable number of kiss across Eddie’s face, and they smile at each other. It’s not perfect, the anxiety hasn’t been fixed, but it’s… right. It’s soft, the moonlight pale, the cold of the outside world forgotten. They press their foreheads together, whispering through the night in between comfortable lapses of silence.

When the sun starts rising through the window, and Richie’s eyes are dark from exhaustion, Eddie asks if they can stay home from school. He doesn’t even care about his mom, not right now. He’s back to tracing the lines on Richie’s arms, wishing he had that same kind of meaning. Something to remind him of all the important parts of his life. And then Richie is up from his bed, digging around in his desk drawer for a marker, exclaiming when he finds it.

Eddie watches in awe as Richie draws little pictures on his wrists, willing himself to forget that nagging tone that’s telling him about ink poisoning, instead laughing as he starts to recognize what Richie is drawing on him.

A bird for Stan. A pencil for Bill. A book for Mike. A feather for Ben. A boot for Bev.

“What about you?”

“You already got me, Eds. Right here, in all the ink.”

Eddie playfully shoves him in the chest, pretending to be furious. “At least sign it, Richie.” He huffs when Richie rolls his eyes, holding out his extended arm expectantly. Richie does sign it, eventually, printing his name across the contour of Eddie’s forearm. They’re still all smiles, until Eddie can’t stop yawning, and Eddie can’t even yell at Richie for making fun of him when he’s literally yawning too much to talk. And finally, they go to sleep, warm in each other’s embrace.

---

Eddie leaves Richie’s house around noon. He tells Richie that he has to be home around his usual time, but he has a few things he wants to do first. Richie squeezes his hand tightly, and promises he’ll come by later that night.

When he does finally arrive home, Eddie’s mom is, needless to say, furious. And Eddie doesn’t even care.

---

As promised, Richie shows up later that night, swooping in through the window feet first. He immediately crawls into bed with Eddie, but then he sees the bandages, and suddenly he’s hyper aware of how every movement he makes could be causing Eddie pain.

“What happened? Did your mom freak out about the drawings? Are you actually dying of ink poisoning? Tell me you’re not dying, Eds, tell me!” Eddie shoves a hand over his mouth, violently shushing him. “You’re gonna wake my mom, jackass! Be quiet and I’ll tell you already!”

Richie nods against his hand, but Eddie can tell he’s still got a thousand things to say, so he just holds out his arm and nods in its direction until Richie picks up that Eddie wants him to unwrap it.

And Richie cries.

There, exactly where Richie had written it, is his own name. Except where as the other little drawings are all faded, no doubt from Eddie thoroughly washing himself, his name is still strongly black. Even stronger, actually. Darker. It’s surrounded by a red haze, and Richie’s sure he needs new glasses, because he’s gotta be seeing something wrong here.

“You really did this? Today?” Eddie nods, hestitant. “You didn’t have to go and ruin your pretty skin with my name, Eds.”

Eddie shoves him again, this time with his shoulder. “I wanted to, you giant dork. I wanted to have something that would remind me of why I matter.” And that’s you. It didn’t need to be said, but Richie could still hear it, and Eddie swears he never saw Richie smile so fucking big in all his life.

---

Richie may or may not ask Eddie later if he could maybe, possible, perhaps get Eddie’s name as well. Eddie rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling, overwhelming fond of this boy with the untamed hair and a ridiculous amount of freckles. He takes a pen, takes Richie’s arm, and signs right beneath the underside of Richie’s elbow.

Richie is smiling so wide that he doesn’t even look at what Eddie wrote, too caught up in staring at those hazel eyes that are looking up at him through thick lashes.

(He almost cries again when he finally looks down and sees, in small slanted letters, Eds.)

[lucanogis]

I want to hear about "Who is the one that writes on their arm to remind themselves to do something?", because it features one of my favourite lines. It was part of an ask answer, but it's still a ficlet!

Ah, my beautiful married domestic children. How I love them. Thanks so much for saying it features one of your favorite lines! Uh, I just reposted the ficlet beneath and added comments. Hope it’s interesting! You can also find the fic here. 

They were laying side by side on the king sized bed of their honeymoon suite when she saw the dark ink on his skin. Outside, the sun was starting to set and the sky was a flaming gold, a soft red, an inviting blue all at once.

For some reason, descriptions of sunset / sunrise show up in my stories A LOT. To be honest, I just like talking about colors, since I tend to look at the sky in the evenings from my window. If we’re being logical about it, this would probably be a day after the wedding itself, since by the time you get to a honeymoon suite it tends to be dark already. They just spent the day in bed banging enjoying life.

Hotaru reached out, softly tracing the outlines with one finger, his blue eyes following her movement as she went over his palm, to his wrist and up his arm. When their eyes met, she could see the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks.

Look I haven’t written smut yet (publicly) but you can be damn fucking sure that Hotaru doesn’t need to do more than touch Luca with a single finger to make him lose his mind. So this scene is shit I find hot. You kidding, slow, languid touches? Damn. Rated R. I add this stuff so I can rub my hands over my face and giggle weirdly, by myself, in my room. 

“I wasn’t sure,” Luca told her, “whether I would remember all that I wanted to say. I didn’t want to miss anything important, so I wrote my vows down. Ended up winging it though but hey, at least I came prepared.”

I write stuff on my hands, which inevitably ends up smudged and unreadable. But doing it beforehand has a calming effect - you can tell yourself that if you do end up forgetting, you have something to trigger your memory. Helps with anxiety! I imagine Luca as a nervous person, not because he’s necessarily worried about himself but worried about not being enough for other people. 

And he wants Hotaru to know everything he feels, obviously - doesn’t matter that he’s already showed her what he feels the years they’ve known each other. Of course in the end he looks at her and forgets the worry and the pressure of doing everything just right because it’s not about being right, but about being true to yourself. Hotaru’s brand of tough love can be difficult, but if she choses you? Then you know that someone brilliant believes in you whole-heartedly. That makes winging it seem strangely OK. 

She squinted and shifted closer, her bare chest brushing his as she peered at the writing.

( ͡º ͜ʖ ͡º) Married adults aren’t shy about their naked bits. They’re comfortable around each other. 

“What does it say?”

“I can’t tell you that,” Luca joked. “I have to save a few of my good, eternally cheesy line for the rest of our lives. A regular eighty year old woman might not notice I’m recycling love declarations but you? You would notice right away. Besides-” He kissed her, lingering on her lips for a few seconds before drawing away again. There was a smile on his face and she knew, without seeing it, that it mirrored the one she was wearing.

“It’s just variations on a theme,” Luca said.

I love the “variations on a theme” line. One, because I’m a faux-cultured person who likes to seem smart. Two, as a nod to the fact that love can look differently every time, for different people. But at the same time, weirdly, it’s also the same thing for everyone, the thing every person shares. Variations on a theme!

A gift to one of my best friends once upon a time was a bowl full of letters, one for each birthday. There were like 20 or so letters in there, so she’s set for a while. Saving lovely messages for people you love time has seemed adorable to me ever since. 

“What’s the theme?,” Hotaru asked. “Financial security? Tax breaks?”

He laughed. “Yeah, I really wanted to talk about taxes in front of our friends and family. No. It’s love, you giant menace.”

Luca grabbed her finger, using it to point at the now smudged words on his arm.

“This one says that you’re going to change the world and I can’t believe I’m blessed enough to get to watch you do it.”

Obviously, Hotaru will change the world. I’m a jealous person - if people are successful, I easily get worried that they’ll forget about me in their greatness. So feeling overwhelming joy at other people’s success is a sign of love and selflessness to me, hence why I incorporated it here. Luca’s always been happy about the joy of others - just think of his reaction to Natsume and Mikan’s kiss. His wife’s brilliance would be a daily marvel to him. Precious baby. 

Together, their hands wandered.

( ͡º ͜ʖ ͡º)

“This one,” he said, “is about how much I adore the face you make whenever you get one of your big ideas. You squish your nose together like a bear that smelled something delicious. And this one’s about about how I’m not going to let you forget that I have your back, always. And this one’s about how I’m going to love you no matter what but that’s a given. Oh and this one,” he pointed at the one on his wrist, “is the first thing you ever said to me.”

A small thing, that seems insignificant but combines a) a detail you only notice by really paying attention to another person and b) is a reminder of something Hotaru really cares about, aka inventing. And Luca’s always had her back - when they infiltrated Z, when they started the Uprising, when he safeguarded her headphones. I don’t think she needs the reminder, honestly. But it’s there anyway. And love, forever and ever and always. I’m a cheese at heart. 

“What was it,?” she asked. Luca laughed. “I was standing next to you in line at breakfast and you said: ’Get out of my way’,” he quoted from memory. “You know what I answered?”

“No,” she said.  

“‘I don’t think so, Imai’. I’m pretty sure I got shot for that.”

We have no canon evidence of this, obviously, but can you imagine Hotaru Imai reacting any different to a blond kid with a rabbit and giant blue eyes, someone she instantly pings as a “person she can push around”? But Luca’s got Natsume to deal with and back then, she has nothing to blackmail him with. He’s not moving an inch.  

Hotaru felt a burning sensation in her eyes and she turned away, hiding her face in the crook of his shoulder. His hand came up to rest on her back, lightly tracing up and down. At length, she turned back. Outside, night had fallen and the stars had come out bright and clear.

INTIMATE TOUCHING

And the stars are out, because Luca and Hotaru became friends beneath the stars in my canon-verse. 

“I’m glad,” Hotaru told him.

“About what,?” Luca asked.

“I’m glad you didn’t get out of my way,” she said. “Right next to me is where I want you to be, now and…for whatever’s ahead.”

She could see the glint of the wedding ring on his finger when he reached up to brush a strand of hair out of her face.

“That’s good then,” Luca said softly. “Because right next to you is where I want to be for life.”

Hotaru often ends up alone in the manga. She ends up alone in the very beginning, going to the Academy to save her former school. She ends up alone when she is shot, and her friends go to save her. Subaru is there, but plot-wise, she is isolated. And she ends up alone in the end - stranded in a time-stream. These are all choices she makes (aside from getting shot) because she thinks they are necessary to save her friends.

Luca often follows people. He follows Natsume, first to his home when they’re children and then all the way to the school. He follows Yuu’s illusion into the woods because he thinks animals are threatened. And he follows Mikan into Z’s hideout and into the cellars under the Middle School. He does these things because he thinks they are necessary to save his friends.

Usually, they aren’t given much of a choice: They’re fighting for their lives or the lives of their friends. Here, that isn’t the case. What do you chose when it’s a peaceful, quiet moment? Who do you chose?

I like to think that when there’s peace, they chose each other to stay with and fight for, and that after this choice, neither one of them ever has to be alone again.