#forget about food and water I want the internet back thank you

[whipplefilter]

I CHANGED MY MIND I don’t like small towns the power went out and if the power doesn’t come on again soon then the sump pump for the well will shut off and then even if the power comes back the water won’t. =_=

It’s -32F with wind chill WHO is going to fix the well huh

[brynnterpretations]

Where Damage Isn’t Already Done

Victoria Neuman x Wife!Reader

The worst thing about it is the coffee.

⌗ fluff ⌗ fix-it ⌗ short-fic ⌗ title from "where damage isn't already done" by the radio dept.

Contains spoilers for The Boys, Season 4, Episode 8. Please do not click read more unless you have watched it.

You and Vic had talked about what your dream home with each other would be even when you first started dating. It was therapeutic, you supposed; considering you met each other at a Vought gala, you knew that you wouldn’t be very normal, nor would your relationship. Even if you somehow got everything you wanted — Vic as President, you practicing law, conflict of interest only in the bedroom — there was no such thing as retiring. Or relaxing, really. So, you talked about it. Vic wanted a beautiful home in Big Sur, overlooking the ocean, with an easy route down for Zoe to play, or maybe a Roman villa in the heart of the Spanish countryside, surrounded by sheep and farm animals — you’d be the ones taking care of them, though, Vic did not do farm animals. Certainly, it wasn’t this.

“Where is this, even?” asked Zoe. Honestly, neither you nor Vic really knew outside of being somewhere in the southwest, where even the bison looked miserable. You took another glance at your new ID on the table, your fake name and fake smile staring back at you. Despite you three being on strict orders from the CIA and the entirety of the Boys coup to never leave the house — thank God they’d given you basic living essentials — they’d still given you IDs just in case.

You sat down at the table. Victoria flipped through Zoe’s homework assignment, taken from a homeschooling book Hughie was kind enough to give to you all considering you weren’t permitted to use Internet, before passing it to you. You snorted quietly once you took a glance; it was English, a weak spot for Vic, considering her aversion to anything impractical. You doubted she wanted to hear anymore about Moby Dick than she’d probably already heard years ago. “Well, the thing they stressed was where we’re not.” 

Zoe made a sour face, but when Victoria pressed a kiss to her forehead, it dissolved. She passed you a cup of coffee and sat at the table. “How’s the book?”

“Fine,” shrugged Zoe. “It’s easy.”

Looking over Zoe’s essay, you could tell she’s telling the truth. “This is great, Zoe.”

“Thanks,” smiled Zoe. She ate her Cheerios with a bit more enthusiasm. You all were still getting used to not having fresh-cooked food. You took a look at the coffee. Truthfully, you and Vic had become huge coffee snobs after you came across the term “third-wave coffee” on Twitter, and as you looked into its inky depths, you tried to forget about Café Integral and Third Rail. Do not think of a rosemary espresso tonic right now. Do not think of a rosemary espresso tonic right now. 

“Oh, Jesus,” she said suddenly, spitting out her coffee. “I don’t think there’s even any coffee in this.” 

You looked over at Victoria, who was dressed in an argyle sweater, slacks, and fuzzy socks that you’d gifted her for Christmas, even though neither of you celebrated. It wasn’t often you didn’t see her in her power gear or without makeup, and she looked younger. Better. It would be stupid to think that it made her look carefree — you all were boiling with tension, terrified of laser beams blasting through the creaky, deteriorating front door — but it certainly made it feel different. As if, after you and Vic had bled and fought only to end up where you started again in New York City, you were finally somewhere that would bring different results.

“I’ll get you some water,” you said, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Maybe you weren't in a vista house or beside beautiful oceans or even in a place that had good coffee, but as Zoe and Vic began bickering over Moby Dick, you couldn't imagine why that would ever matter.

[wandafiction]

Cooking With Flo

Warning: None, just pure fluff.

“Hey bitches it’s cooking with Flo. Today we are doing it Live so send your questions and I will see how many we can answer.” 

You watch with a smile as Florence puts the tip of the knife into the wooden chopping board smiling into her phone. You are standing behind the phone, off camera leaning against the kitchen island simply watching your wife as she flutters around the kitchen getting everything she needs ready. You had always loved watching Flo in the kitchen. She always seemed so happy and free, which made you happy and the smile on your face shows it. Your smile grows when Flo looks up from her task sending you a small wink then looking down to her phone chuckling to herself.

“Yes, the other Mrs Pugh is here with us today. Baby say hello to everyone.” 

“Hello internet.” You simply speak hoping the phone picks it up, as you want to finish your coffee before making your way onto camera, which you usually do as the food is in the oven to answer any fan questions. 

“Baby I meant come around and say…You know what doesn’t matter everyone is saying hi back.” She rolls her eyes with a giggle as she grabs an onion and puts it on the chopping board. “Okay so today we are going to be cooking something real simple. Chilli con Carne. Why you may ask? Well it is Y/n’s favourite and I thought I would treat my favourite girl.”

You smile, blowing her a kiss which she pretends to catch and put in her apron pocket. Taking another sip of your coffee you simply watch as Florence answers a few comments about upcoming projects, how she is and saying thank you every time someone compliments her. 

“So with the onion you just gotta take her bottom off, then take her top off.” You hold in a laugh placing your hand over your mouth as Florence seems to realise what she has said. She points the knife to the camera with a fake look of seriousness. “Cheeky, don't think like that.”

You shake your head taking another sip of coffee before it comes back out of your nose as the laugh you were holding in finally makes an appearance. As you choke Florence breaks out into a fit of laughter, doubling over as her arm wraps under her ribs, the other placing the knife back down on the side. You fan your face, the coffee leaves a painful sting in your nose, your eyes watering as Florence slowly crouches down till she is sat on the floor in tears of laughter.

“Oh-my-god…I…Can’t be-lieve you did that.” She says between her loud laughs as you continue to cough trying to clear your throat and nose of coffee.

You make your way around the island to where the tap is, quickly running the cold water and putting most of your face under it as you try to wash away the spat up coffee, completely forgetting that Florence is Live on instagram. You remove your face from the water, cupping your hands underneath and splashing the water over your face a few times before harshly rubbing your hands against it. You turn the tap off, shaking your head and hands to try and dry them a little before turning around to see Flo still on the floor in a ball of laughter. 

You lift the bottom of your shirt up to wipe your face dry, then pull it off chucking it on the floor deciding to deal with it later. The moment your shirt hits the floor Flo is quick to stand and jump in your arms causing you to stumble back a little as you catch her. You let out a small laugh as she mumbles against the skin of your neck, not hearing a single thing she said.

“Baby, I didn't catch what you said.” 

“I said you are on camera and no one is allowed to see what's under your shirt but me.” She whines softly, making you laugh more.

“Cuddle bug, they already know what it looks like ever since that video of you stalking me in the gym got out.” Florence's face flushes a bright red at the memory of the day she was posting on her instagram story and instead of putting the video of you working out on her private story it went onto her public one. By the time she realised it was too late and most of her fanbase had already seen you in shorts and a sports bra.

“Doesn’t mean I have to share you with them now though. And that was an accident.” You carefully place Flo back on the ground with a small chuckle as she pouts so you are quick to lean down and peck her lips a few times until she smiles. You make your way to her phone looking at the comments that are flooding in.

“See, the people want me to help you cook in just my sweatpants and bra. And if the people want it then there is nothing I can do.” You laugh loudly when Flo’s hand comes into contact with your shoulder bouncing on your toes to get away from her as she goes for another hit.

“Get back here Mrs Pugh!” She quickly chases after you as you run around the island, once stopping back in front of the phone as she stops behind it eyeing you up like her prey. 

“Hey! We are not children. We are respectable adults who just…well just…just chase each other sometimes.” You answer the comments that are calling the two of you children as the comment section fills with laughing face emojis. 

“I am going to get you.” You smirk at Flo’s empty threat grabbing her phone so you can put music on knowing the one thing that will get her to not completely beat you up in front of thousands of fans. 

“Sure you will, darling. Because you, Miss Florence Pugh, are the best runner in the Pugh household.” You squeal as Flo darts around the island just as you put her phone back down and the room fills with sudden music. 

After a few minutes of trying to chase you around Flo gives up and goes back to her cooking show, apologising to her fans for the unfortunate mishap of a childish wife. Flo looks up to you with a soft smile back on her face as she starts to prepare the meal once more. You smile wide as you see Florence swaying her hips side to side in time to the music singing every few lyrics, still a bit camera shy when it comes to her voice. 

You decide to take the risk of reappearing on camera in just your sports bra and sweatpants as you move to stand behind Florence, wrapping your arms around her waist as you place your chin on her shoulder; having to bend down a little to match her height. She continues to sway a little in your arms as you watch the comments roll in, smiling softly when you hear her voice become more confident as she chops a red pepper. 

You smile wide when Dancing Queen starts playing and you peel yourself off of Flo and start dancing to the beginning of the song, swaying your hips, as you move to wash your hands knowing Flo will need a hand in a minute to get everything mixed together. You start singing as you dry off your hands causing Florence to turn around and look at you with a wide smile, she had always loved your voice and loved when you felt confident enough to sing in front of her; and at this point her fans. 

You hold your hand out for her to take, which she easily does and you quickly pull her into you. You sing to her as you spin her under your arm, her smile and laugh causing you to smile widely and spin her around again. You pull her back into you, keeping her hand in yours, your other one landing on her waist as you sway the both of you side to side playfully and definitely not in time with the music. Your goofiness pays off as Flo pushes away from you before spinning back towards you, your arm ending up wrapped around her as you continue to sway.Her back is to her phone as you shout the lyrics to one another and start jumping around the kitchen in time with the music.

“You are the dancing queen. Young and sweet. Only Seventeen.” You pick up a wooden spoon holding it up to your mouth pretending it's a mic as Flo heads back over to her phone looking through the comments that are flooding in, they must be good because the smile on her face only gets bigger.

You sway your body dancing from one foot to the other as you continue to sing, pointing at Florence as you do so. “Dancing Queen. Feel the beat from the tambourine, oh yeah! You can dance, you can jive!”

“Go Mrs Pugh.” You dance over to Flo as she cheers you on, reading some of her comments. “That's right, my wife can sing, dance and jive. She's the whole package!”

You grab onto her waist with your free hand spinning her to look at you, holding the mic between you both as you sing the last few lyrics to each other. “Having the time of your life. Ooh, see that girl. Watch that scene. Digging the dancing queen. Digging the dancing queen.”

You both laugh with wide smiles as you wrap your arms around her waist pulling her back against your front as you walk the both of you back to her phone. Her hands land on the table as you both look at the comments that are flowing in, most of them hyping the both of you up, some just many random letters.

“What does that mean baby?” Florence points to one of the many keyboard smashes and it makes you giggle.

“That my love is a gay keyboard smash. It’s a good thing, don't you worry.” 

“Hmm, is that like the whole gay panic thing?” You chuckle with a nod.

“Yeah most of your fans are gay my love. They are very jealous of me but also proud that I managed to get to you before some man did.” You see Florence roll her eyes on the livestream, squeezing her hips in response. 

“Well I’m happy I found you when I did Mrs pugh.” She tilts her head to kiss the underside of her jaw and you see a bunch of awws race up the side of her screen.

“I love you Mrs pugh.” You look down at her as you say it, making a toothy smile appear, her nose scrunching as you bring your lips down to hers in a small kiss, this time remembering you are live streaming. 

“I love you too Mrs Pugh.” She returns easily once she pulls her lips away from yours.

“Yes we love you all too.” You say to the phone as you see a bunch of pouting emojis, which have been deemed the Florence Pugh pout, asking if you love them to.

“Yes we most definitely love all of you guys.” You squeeze her hips again making her look back up to you.

“I am going to get a shirt on, and even though I love you very much I love food just that bit more and my stomach is crying out for it.” You say it with a smile so she knows that you are only partially serious because you do not want to be sleeping on the couch.

“Okay. go get yourself sorted baby, I will call you if I need help.” She quickly pecks your lips as you remove your arms from her waist.

“Goodbye internet.” You stroll out of the kitchen, smiling when you hear Flo start her show again before she calls your name and you look around to see why.

“The internet says bye Mrs Pugh.” You chuckle at her goofy smile as she holds the camera in one hand so she can get you in the frame as her face peaks up from the bottom of the camera.

“I love you.” You shake your head blowing Florence a kiss and sending the camera a small wave, laughing when you hear Florence shout back to you.

“I looooove you too, baby!”

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Stream Crasher- E.Munson

Summary: Eddie Munson is a well known streamer who keeps his private life out of the public eye. His fans get a little glimpse of his life with his wife when she crashes his stream on more than one occasion.

Pairings: Modern!Eddie x Wife!Reader

Warnings: Female Reader, mentions of food, Eddie is a mechanic and is a gamer in his free time, (Let me know if I missed any)

My full Masterlist

Author's Note: It's been awhile, I've been in a bit of a slump lately but I'm trying my hardest to get out of it. I'm working on a few things right now so keep an eye out.

Word Count: 1.1K

My asks are open for questions, suggestions and feedback

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

gif not mine

Eddie Munson was a name well known across the gaming community. He was right up there along with Pewdiepie, Jacksepticeye and Markiplier. It took him years to get where he was and he wasn’t even expecting it, he was a mechanic who played video games on the internet for fun. It was his hobby and he never seemed to view it as a job, he always had fun with whatever game he was playing.

His fans had known that he was in a serious relationship, he and his girl lived together, had been together since high school and had been best friends their whole lives. He never revealed much about her, just that she was funny, gorgeous and a high school English teacher.

One night, Eddie had been streaming, he was replaying The Last of Us before the show came out, when he heard a gentle knock on his game room door. “That you, sweetheart?” He called back to the knock. The door creaked open, light from the hallway streaming through.

“Yeah, I brought you some snacks and I refilled your water,” She replied from the doorway. Making her way to her seated boyfriend, who had just paused the game and turned his chair so he could face her, she handed him the plate that held some cut fruit on it and his water bottle, now filled with ice water. She did this every time he streamed for over two hours, knowing he gets grumpy when he doesn’t eat.

“Thank you, baby. You wanna watch for a bit?” He asked her.

“I wish I could but I have to grade some papers,” She pouted at him. He pulled her down so she was straddling his lap and pulled her in for a sweet kiss, completely forgetting about the stream he had going on. 

“When you want to take a break, you know where to find me. I love you.”

“I love you, more Eds.” With that she planted a kiss on his cheek, got up from his lap and exited the room, shutting the door gently behind her. He turned back to the stream and continued about his way as if nothing ever happened. His eyes occasionally drifted over to the chat to answer questions, which were now all about his girl.

One comment stood out among the rest, “'That was my English teacher'. Well, I’m glad you have my girl for an English teacher. Please respect her privacy though. I don’t want to throw her into this world of social media and content creation,” He lectured his chat. He didn’t want her thrown into the toxic world that social media was, she wasn’t big on social media to begin with. She had Twitter, Tumblr, TikTok and Instagram, all of which she never posted much, just enjoying the content others put out. In one of the many cutscenes, he turned most of his attention to the chat, snacking on the peeled orange sitting on the plate in front of him. 

“For those of you asking, my girl and I have known each other our whole lives, we were best friends for years until I had the balls to finally ask her out our freshman year. I was convinced she had a massive crush on our friend Steve but boy was I wrong. We’ve been living together for 5 years. Once we graduated high school we got an apartment with the money we made at the bars we worked at. Once she graduated from college, we moved into our house. She's working on her masters right now, on top of working at the high school in our town.”

“One of you just asked if we’re engaged. We aren’t, we actually just got married last month. She hasn’t changed her last name yet, she plans on that once the school year is over so it doesn’t confuse her current students. Married life is great, not much has changed, it definitely feels great to finally call her my wife,” Eddie chuckled. He heard the door creak open again, turning around to see his wife in the doorway with a wide smile on her face. “Were you eavesdropping, sweetheart?” He teased her.

“Is it eavesdropping if you’re technically talking to yourself?” She teased back. 

“I-I don’t have anything. What can I do for you, beautiful?”

“Thought I’d take you up on that offer of watching before. I can’t read another paper. Like I swear I drill them about grammar and yet they are still using commas in places they don’t belong, the run on sentences, not taking my suggestions that I left on their rough drafts and don’t even get me started on using ‘your’ in a formal research paper,” She vented.

“I’m sorry, baby, come sit. Teenagers just don’t listen,” Eddie sympathized.

“Oh I’m aware. You never did, Mr. I don’t need help to pass O'Donnell's class. Mr. I can pass history without studying even though I never paid attention,” She teased him.

“You little snake! I ended up getting help didn’t I? My personal teacher helped me pass.”

“I sure did. Now get on with your stream. I wanna watch you kill some clickers.”

He had turned back to his monitors, where the game was paused, pulling his older gaming chair over so she could sit. As he played, she answered some of the questions coming through on the stream. She was out of the camera’s view, Eddie making it a habit to turn his camera further away from his right side and more to the left. A few names she recognized but she lit up when she saw some more familiar names to both her and Eddie.

“Honey, look! The kids and Steve are watching! Hi guys!” She squealed in delight. She loved seeing that their friends were supportive and frequently joined in on Eddie’s live streams. “For those asking, no, Eddie and I don’t have kids. The kids are our friends that are a few years younger than us. I used to babysit them when they were younger, Eddie played Dungeons and Dragons with them in high school, had a whole club and everything.”

“No need to out me as a freak there, baby,” Eddie joked, his eyes finding their way to his wife’s face, seeing nothing but love and joy in her eyes.

“What did I tell you about calling yourself a freak? You were just nerdy with really long hair, that’s all. Still are really nerdy with long hair but I married you, didn’t I?”

“You did indeed. And I’m very happy you did.”

“I’m very happy I did, too.”

[justiceforfoxface]

Okay so I saw the post about needed more sfw coryo content I was wondering if you could do one where the reader gets migraines and it’s just him taking care of reader?

I’m not too sure if you’ll do this but you work is amazing and tysm pookie ❤️

I am absolutely furious right now (not at you, this ask was amazing and fun to write) I had like a 1K word fic for this and then my Internet glitched out and I lost the entire freaking thing

so here is me hurriedly trying to rewrite it

Warnings: none, entirely sfw, slightly ooc coryo, one use of Y/N, corio and reader are already dating

You sank into your chair. It had been a long day, and your migraines had been absolutely relentless. You were exhausted and honestly just wanted to lay down.

But you had invited your boyfriend Coriolanus Snow over for dinner, and it wouldn’t be a great dinner if you just slept through it. But you were really tired, so you figured if you sat down for just a few minutes, you’d still have time to make something for dinner.

Then you heard the door open, and a familiar voice said, “Y/N? It’s me, Coriolanus.”

“I’m in here,” you said, standing up, ignoring the instant rush of dizziness that flooded to your head. “Sorry I didn’t make anything for dinner yet, I…forgot you were coming over.”

That was a horrible excuse and you both knew it. Even if you did forget, you wouldn’t forget about dinner entirely. You hadn’t made any food at all. Since you’d gotten home, you had just been lying down.

Coriolanus raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“Well….no,” you admitted, because what was the point of lying? He’d figure it out eventually, or just help you make a late dinner, and then you’d be more exhausted. “I’ve been having really bad migraines all day, and I didn’t want to make anything for dinner but I also didn’t want to just cancel our dinner together, so, I’m sorry.”

Coriolanus gently took your hand in his. “You don’t need to apologize for that. It wasn’t your fault. How about you go lie down and I’ll get you a cold washcloth?”

That sounded amazing to you, but you were still concerned about one thing. “What about you?” you asked. “Don’t you still need to eat?”

“I can eat a late dinner when I get back to my house,” Coriolanus said, leading you to your bedroom. “Right now, I just want to help you feel better.”

He walked into your bedroom with you, and the second you collapsed in your bed, you didn’t feel like arguing with him about it anymore. It was much more comfortable than you’d been all day.

Just a minute or so later, Coriolanus returned with a cold washcloth and a cup of water.

“Drink this,” he said as he placed the washcloth on your forehead. “It’ll help. I think.”

You drank the water and then set the cup on your nightstand. “Thanks, Coryo,” you said. “Would it be okay if I just laid here for a while?”

“Of course,” Coriolanus said. “I’ll just be in the main room, can you come and get me if you need anything?”

“Yeah,” you said, pulling the washcloth over your eyes. “Thank you, again.”

“Of course, again,” he smiled and clicked the light off on his way out.

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

I made the mistake of clicking in a comment section of his. All the 'you signed a pro-genocide letter, I wont let you forget it'. I just want to scream he fcking didnt!!! Its not greatly worded in hindsight but it just calls for release of all hostages. It was also done when there was still a fuckton of misinformation about what was actually happening.

The thing is they don't care. They enjoy being bullies, and whats more fun to them that piling on someone and being seen as 'morally right' for doing so?? They don't live in reality, they live online, and they're obessed with showing off how progressive they are.. by telling a stranger he's a murderer for signing a slightly badly worded letter that litterally had no impact at all

Hey! Sorry this is delayed, I've been swamped since last night. There is so much out there about reading comprehension and intent that I think a lot of people are missing. It drives me crazy. The letter was poorly worded, but if anyone actually took a moment to read it, it was supporting freeing hostages, condemning actions, NOT promoting genocide. I saw a comment on IG that said "You support sending weapons to murder people" and it was like, what? That letter said nothing of the sort, stop spreading false information. Jeebus. And you're right-- there was SO MUCH misinformation back then, I readily admit I didn't know what was going on at that time. We learn, we make changes, but now people take this and they try to destroy any public thing that he does. You're right, they don't care, they just enjoy being angry on other people's behalf, people who need other kind of help, not anonymous internet bullying. I'm sure they're out there doing other things, but all yelling at a celebrity does is push more hate and violence into the world, not less.

Not one person in Gaza is sitting there wanting people to yell on instagram at celebrities uninvolved in the genocide. They want clean food, water, medical supplies. They want to stop being murdered. Taika is not causing any of this and their fake "activism" does nothing but cause pain. Every ounce of effort someone puts into commenting on a celebrities post could be used to do literally anything else.. like putting it on their congressman's posts. Anyway, thanks for writing in Anon, I'm also feeling the huge frustration. One good thing though-- I went back to that instagram post and QUITE A LOT of people are stepping up and telling people to go do some real activism, and I'm sure Taika can see that. Things will get better.

Sending love and calming vibes babe. Hope today is less stressful on all fronts.<3

[owlsandwich]

The Mechanics of Magic

Read along with me :D - Chapter 3

Chapter 1 | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

The Mechanics of Magic is a multiple-pov fantasy novel set in an original world where magic exists openly alongside early internet-level technology.

The book follows the surviving prince of a deposed magical royal family, who has been living in secret for two decades, trying to rescue his son whilst uncovering the truth about his family's murder.

Chapter 3 is below the cut!

The last drops of the downpour spattered across the steaming pavement, but the humidity had left Matthew as damp underneath his jacket as he was outside of it. Food smells wafted from the undercover market to his right, mixing with the earthy scent left by the rain.

He was early. The trains had run well for once and, given that he had allowed extra time for the journey, it was a good half hour before he was due to meet Oliver. At least it would give him time to settle in at the rendezvous and dry off.

A shout from an overzealous market seller boomed over the roar of cars and chattering shoppers, and he jolted in alarm. Being in the capital always put him on edge.

Sweeping a lock of soaked, black hair from his eyes, Matthew looked around for the name of the road. A drop of water snuck under the collar of his jacket, running a chilling line down his back as he saw the sign carved into the stonework above. There it is. Practically a historic artefact itself, nowadays. The familiar stab of sorrow followed as he noted the faded royal coat of arms inscribed next to the street name. It was a wonder Morgan Heliodor hadn’t had them all destroyed.

The well-maintained words, at least, told him he was in the right place.

A few shops down, the tearoom looked bright and inviting against the overcast afternoon sky. Matthew pushed the door open and bundled inside. It was occupied, but mercifully quiet. A couple of people in business dress were dotted around the single tables, and a group of women with prams had taken over a corner, too distracted by fidgety babies to notice his entrance.

He headed towards a corner table at the rear, ducking under low beams as he passed. A man was already sat there, his well-cut suit jacket open over an emerald-green waistcoat. Sandy hair fell towards golden eyes that lit up with a smile as they met Matthew’s.

“You’re early.” Oliver rested his half-empty teacup back on its saucer, the movement showing a flash of gold cufflink.

“Not early enough, apparently.” Matthew shook his head in mock disbelief, then dragged a chair around the table so its back was against the wall. His wet jacket began to trickle a puddle onto the floor as he peeled it off, and Oliver frowned.

“Dare I ask why you didn’t use a shield?”

“Didn’t seem like anyone else was doing it. I don’t want to draw attention.”

“Well, I’m not sure that looking like a drowned rat is any more subtle.”

Matthew laughed and sat down, sodden jeans still dripping. Then, drawing on a small amount of his magic, he heated the water in his clothes and hair until it puffed away in a light cloud of steam. “Better?” It definitely felt better. “How long have you been here, anyway? I thought I might have beaten you for once.”

“Not long,” Oliver replied, taking another sip of his tea. “I decided I may as well take a half day; I could certainly use some time off.” He gave a heavy sigh and Matthew noticed dark circles beneath his eyes, ones that even the youthful appearance gifted to those with high magic ability couldn’t hide.

“What, did Morgan change the tax code or something?” Even in jest, the name burned as he said it. He continued in a gentler tone, “You look knackered.”

“Thanks,” Oliver replied. Then with a dismissive shake of his head he seemed to appear brighter. “It’s nothing to worry about. Just unusually busy for this time of year. Actually, that’s probably not a bad thing... Oh!” He pulled out a brown paper bag containing a wrapped parcel. “Before I forget, this is for Alex. Please tell him how sorry I am that I can’t deliver it in person. I don’t suppose he’s heard back from the university yet?”

Oliver passed the bag over to Matthew, who tucked it away by a leg of his chair.

“I imagine he will tell me when I’m next down.” He gave Oliver a sideways glance. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you did.”

“I merely offered him a place to stay for the interview. How was I to know he hadn’t involved you?” Oliver’s reply was cool, but Matthew could see a tinge of pink around his ears.

“Oh, come on. Since when do you not know what’s going on in my life?” Matthew ran a frustrated hand through his hair, but there was no anger in his comment. “I thought I was supposed to be your boss.”

“In that case, I thought you were supposed to listen to my advice. He doesn’t understand, and I don’t blame him. Alex thinks that he isn’t good enough.”

“Not good enough?” Matthew paused in confusion. “How? You’ve seen the things he’s made, the spells he’s done. He’s better than I was at his age.”

“I have seen them.” Oliver nodded behind his cup. “And that’s why he can’t understand why his own father wants him to stay wasting away in Couden Cross.”

“He said that?” Matthew’s gaze fell to the wooden table, and he found himself tracing the scuff marks there with his finger. “That’s not what I want. It’s just more important that he’s safe. He can be successful and still have a quiet life.”

“He’d be safer if you told him the truth.”

The clink of Oliver’s empty teacup in his saucer snapped Matthew’s eyes back up.

“I’m not telling him. Not until he’s older. We’ve been through this.” There was an ache in his jaw as he clenched it.

“He’s going to be eighteen. He’s older than you were when it happened.”

“Yeah, and he deserves more time than we got.”

Matthew sat up straighter, anticipating a counterargument, until he noticed that Oliver’s attention had been caught by the tearoom entrance. Concerned, he glanced in the same direction and saw that the group of women were leaving, struggling to squeeze one of their prams out past the heavy door.

With a small exertion of his magic, Matthew nudged the door wider. The women departed, presumably unaware of his interference, though the flare of energy obviously hadn’t been missed by Oliver, who turned to him wide-eyed.

“Everything okay?” Matthew kept his voice low.

“Fine.” The shock on Oliver’s face faded instantly to a blank expression, his eyes becoming unfocused.

He’s talking to Ewen. Matthew sank back in his chair and waited.

For the most part, he found it easy to forget about the other soul that had occupied his friend’s mind for the past twenty-three years. The voice of Oliver’s predecessor had, of course, been a great asset, but Matthew couldn’t help but feel unsettled when he remembered that two people often looked out at him through one pair of eyes. It must be worse for Oliver, and Matthew thanked whatever luck he had left that whoever had crafted the Champion spell hadn’t seen fit to confer the same powers upon the royal line.

“Sorry about that.” With a blink, Oliver’s attention was back in the room. “Would you like a drink? I should have asked when you arrived.”

Matthew didn’t reply, folding his arms sceptically.

“Ewen was advising on tea,” Oliver explained. He looked relaxed enough, but Matthew knew better than to trust his outwards appearance. “This place was actually his recommendation. Would you like me to choose you one to try, or will you have your usual?”

The question was half hearted, but Matthew decided to let it go. Perhaps he’d misread the concern on his friend’s face. “Maybe next time. Just grab me a can of something.” Unlike Oliver, no amount of education or pressure had ever given him a taste for warm drinks.

Oliver groaned and got up from his seat. “Fair enough. Though you don’t know what you’re missing.” He left the table mumbling something that sounded like ‘sacrilege’.

Left to his own thoughts, Matthew let his eyes wander around the room. It was an old building, even by Aedemeer standards, and he wondered how much it had seen over the years. Ewen had been his father’s Tactician, to use the common term for it, and it was odd to think of the man sitting in this very room. Perhaps he had been prompted to visit by his own mentor, and so on, going back generations.

His musings were interrupted by the return of Oliver, who placed a can in front of him along with an empty glass, before taking his seat.

“I’m not saying it has anything to do with us,” he began, arranging a teapot and fresh cup in front of him. “However, I have been observing one of the other patrons— Don’t look!” he commanded.

“I wasn’t going to look!” Matthew said, but his heart rate had increased. He tried to focus on the chilled can in his hands rather than on the other people in the room.

“Their behaviour has raised my suspicion,” continued Oliver. “Now, I need you to tell me if the large, fair-haired gentleman seated to the left of the door looks familiar to you.”

Matthew’s fingers seemed clumsy as he cracked his drink open, looking far less casual than intended. Ignoring the glass, he took a sip directly from the can and glanced over to the table that Oliver had indicated. From here, he had a clear view of the man hunched there, face partially obscured by the newspaper he appeared to be reading. He was tall and broad, wearing a hefty black jacket still damp from the rain. Matthew didn’t recognise him.

“No, I don’t know him,” he said, leaning in towards Oliver so that they could keep their voices low. “What’s he done that’s worried you?”

“He came in earlier, when the women left,” Oliver responded. “He passed the front of the shop three times since you arrived, along with another man, but then entered alone.”

“That’s not hugely suspicious,” Matthew said, though he didn’t relax.

“I agree,” Oliver replied. “However, he hasn’t ordered a drink, nor removed his coat, and I have watched him continue to take glances in this direction from the moment of his arrival, despite the fact he’s attempting to appear engrossed in a newspaper.”

Matthew made a noise of agreement. He didn’t want to be paranoid, but experience told him Oliver wouldn’t have mentioned anything unless he had a genuine concern. As if sensing Matthew’s thoughts, Oliver continued.

“I wouldn’t have wanted to worry you, but as I went up to order, I saw his associate pass by again. He also seemed very focussed in your direction. An innocent man would surely be more interested in his friend than another customer, no?”

“And Ewen agreed?” Matthew waited for Oliver to nod before he continued, panic rising. “How could they have found us?”

It had been so long, he’d half thought Morgan Heliodor had stopped looking, but now—

“It’s not Morgan,” Oliver interrupted, halting his racing thoughts. “These men — they aren’t subtle. I was hardly paying attention and I spotted them.” He spoke with a quiet confidence as he began to pour some tea into his cup. “Besides, they just don’t give off that professional vibe.”

“When are you ever ‘hardly paying attention’?” Matthew muttered, but his heartbeat no longer sounded as loud. “If they aren’t Morgan’s, then who are they?”

“I was hoping you might know.” Oliver narrowed his eyes. “What have you been doing recently?”

Matthew shifted in his seat, rolling the can between his hands so that the soft metal bent under his fingers. “Nothing notable, just work.”

He looked away, unable to meet Oliver’s fixed stare. Even with only two years between them, the Tactician could make him feel like a child.

“There’s one thing I can think of, but that was over two weeks ago.”

“What thing?” Oliver’s tone had turned icy, and Matthew had the uncomfortable feeling that it wasn’t only his friend judging him.

“It was nothing. Really!” Matthew ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I took it on as a quick side job. Something interesting for a change. You know, last week they had me charging lights? Every day for a week. Because it’s still cheaper than getting electricity that far out from the city.”

“I don’t need to know why you did it, just tell me what you did.”

“It was just a lock. Off the books. Nothing special.” Matthew shrugged. “Honestly, I didn’t even think anything of it until now. Some guy moving here from Vailberg wanted to make sure no one could get into one of his rooms. I whacked on a lock and that was it!”

“You’re working for Velbians now?” Oliver seemed surprised but didn’t press further. “What was in the room?”

“It was empty, I don’t know. I didn’t ask questions.”

“Evidently,” Oliver murmured, sipping at his drink. “Do you at least remember the client’s name?”

Matthew frowned as he tried to remember. “Marek? Felix Marek, I think his name was.”

Oliver choked on his tea. “Felix Marek?” he wheezed.

“What?” The reaction brought on another wave of anxiety, and Matthew glanced over at the man near the door. To his relief, he still had his face pressed into his newspaper.

“You do know he was Aiden Heliodor’s business partner?” Oliver’s voice had recovered from the choking, but clearly not from the shock. “He just sold off his shares and retired! Don’t you watch the news?”

“No,” Matthew replied. “I try not to.” Especially at this time of year. He wasn’t pleased to see Oliver’s expression morph into one of pity. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Aiden Heliodor was Morgan Heliodor’s nephew, son of the Arch Canlaw, Kaylee of Vailberg. Matthew felt like a lead weight had dropped into his stomach.

For a moment, Oliver didn’t say anything more. He drummed his fingers lightly against the wood of the table and Matthew focussed on the movement, the world narrowing down to a point.

“I still don’t believe they know who you really are,” Oliver continued eventually. “You say he wanted this lock unregistered? That makes me think it’s not thieves he’s worried about…”

“You’re thinking he’s hiding something from Aiden? Or Morgan?”

“Could easily be both. Though it doesn’t matter either way. My best theory is that this is a silencing operation, and they don’t know who they’re dealing with.”

Fear subsiding, Matthew found it replaced by frustration. Couldn’t he even have a simple drink without something happening? And even worse: he had worried Oliver. “I guess we’d better come up with a plan then.”

“We have a plan.”

Of course we do. Matthew waited for his Tactician to elaborate.

“There’s a back entrance to the tearoom, along a short corridor past the bathroom. It opens out into the alleyway that runs between this building and the wall of the market. You likely walked past it on your way here.”

The market would be a good place to lose a pursuer in the crowd.

“What if they have people waiting in the alley? You said there could be more than one person following us.”

“You’re right. It’s likely the back door is being watched, but I don’t intend for us to fight our way out.” Oliver ran a finger in a line across the table. “If this is the alleyway, and here is where the exit comes out,” he pointed towards the centre of the line, “then slightly to the left, in the wall opposite, you will find an entrance to the market. It was boarded up for years, but when I found it, I decided it could be useful to incorporate it, and this tearoom, into one of our meeting spots.”

“You magic locked it?” Matthew wasn’t surprised that there had been more to this place than just the pleasant atmosphere and fancy tea.

“Yes, to my signature. It’s not ideal but, if we aim to get through quickly, they won’t be able to follow. By the time they reach the main market entrance, we should be out and on our way to the safe house at Wych Cross.”

“Fair enough.” Matthew leaned back in his seat, attempting to stretch some looseness back into his limbs. “So if I get up first, as if I am going to the toilet, then you follow sometime after and we meet up at the exit?”

Oliver rejected his suggestion without a pause. “No need. We’ll go together.”

“Won’t that seem suspicious?”

“Only to someone following us,” Oliver replied, matter-of-factly. “And if they are, they aren’t going to be far behind. We’ll save time and be safer together.”

Not convinced that Oliver just didn’t want to let him out of his sight, Matthew didn’t bother to argue.

“Ready then?” Oliver set aside his empty teacup, and Matthew felt the slight tingle in the air as Oliver’s shields went up. Taking the cue, Matthew drew on his own magic, projecting a shield around his body. He reached back to grab his coat, tucking it over the bag containing Alex’s present and picked up both.

“Nothing strange about two friends going to the bathroom together...” Matthew mumbled as he stood up to follow Oliver to the door.

It was quiet in the small corridor. Matthew squeezed past Oliver, who placed his hand on the door they had just come through and cast a basic lock spell.

“Apologies to anyone who needs the toilet,” he said, tilting his head to indicate they should proceed along the hall, to the fire exit that led to the alleyway.

“Do you think it will be alarmed?” Matthew asked. Touching his hand to the door, he scanned it for magic energy and picked up nothing. Any lock or alarm would be manual.

“No, I checked before we arrived.”

Accepting Oliver’s confirmation, Matthew cast his magic sense out beyond the door. Physical barriers made it harder to pick up the radiating energy of spells or mages, but if anyone was directly outside, he should be able to feel them.

“Anyone out there?” Oliver said, who was no doubt also checking himself.

Matthew closed his eyes to focus. There was a strange presence out there — a mage, maybe. Or some kind of passive spell? “Something to the left, but I can’t tell for certain.”

“You can’t tell?” Oliver hummed as he paused to think. “Well, we’ll have to deal with it as it comes. It’s likely that our tearoom friend has sent a message, so let’s assume they are expecting us.”

Matthew moved aside as Oliver grasped the bar of the fire door, then pushed down on the handle and darted into the alley. With a tight grip on the bag in his hand, Matthew followed.

The cobbled path was slippery from the afternoon rain. Magic focused into his shield, Matthew kept his eyes on Oliver rather than looking for the boarded-up doorway himself. Now they were outside, the confusing magic presence was far more obvious, almost nauseating, unlike any spell he’d ever felt.

They hadn’t made it more than two paces before he heard a shout, followed by a fizzing crack that Matthew felt more than heard. A wave of energy collided with his shield, sending him reeling off balance. He landed clumsily on his knees, pain shooting through his hand as it slammed into the ground. The shield, which should have repelled any attack, warped as it absorbed the energy and shattered.

Senses returning, Matthew heard Oliver shouting from somewhere above his head. The scene in the alley rushed back into focus and his eyes met those of the man who had attacked him.

Smaller and younger than the one who had been watching them in the tearoom, he stood frozen, a look of surprise on his face. Whatever the man held in his hand was still pointed at Matthew, and he scrambled back to his feet. As he did so, the assailant seemed to snap out of his daze.

He charged forward, blocking their passage to the market door, but a blast of magic from Oliver blew him back. Then Matthew felt his friend grab his arm, dragging him — bag, coat, and all — along the alley towards the street.

“I thought we were going to the market!” Matthew called, hurrying to keep pace with Oliver while trying not to slip on the rain-slick stone.

“Change of plan!”

Oliver pulled him around the corner as they reached the main road. When he looked back, the man from the alley was behind them and had been joined by the one from the shop.

“Don’t attack. Too many people,” Oliver instructed through panting breaths. Another flare of magic, and this time the pavement behind them sparkled as Oliver’s spell drained the heat from the water pooled there. The two of them pushed through the crowd, inciting gasps, swiftly followed by the cries of multiple shoppers slipping on the suddenly icy ground.

“What the hell did they attack us with?” Matthew shouted as he ran.

“I don’t know,” Oliver replied. “But if it could knock you down, then it’s too risky to take chances.”

“We need to find somewhere open.”

“Park! Over the road ahead. Let’s try to lose them first.”

As if in response, the air fizzed with another bolt of energy. This time it was followed by screams and a sickening crunch of metal.

Matthew spun on the spot, no longer running. A bus was horizontal across the busy road, the front crushed inwards above the left wheel, leaving it sagging to one side drunkenly. Another car had crashed into it, causing both rows of traffic to come to a standstill.

From here it was impossible to tell whether the passengers in both vehicles were okay. Matthew began to force his way back against the flow of terrified people now rushing in their direction, before Oliver caught his arm.

“Look,” Oliver pointed. Following his gaze, Matthew saw the man from the tearoom, gesturing angrily at his companion and grabbing at whatever the smaller man was holding. “Looks to me like they weren’t supposed to be creating a scene either.”

Sirens began to howl in the distance, the sound causing Matthew’s heart to leap in his chest. Even so, he didn’t move.

“Healers are on their way,” Oliver spoke gently. “Let’s get out while we can.”

“…Okay.” Swallowing his guilt, Matthew followed Oliver as they allowed the crowd to sweep them away.

[manekicatwriter]

hellooo! i was wondering if i could make a request for an modern au sbi x gn sibling reader where they’re around 17-19, and they’ve got depression. they’ve had to go away for a few weeks after a bad episode ended in an attempt and they were hospitalized and sent somewhere for rehabilitation and now they’re coming home and they’re all anxious and quiet and stuff- so the boys do their best to like comfort them and reassure them that they’re loved and they belong there? i’m sorry if that’s an awkward request, i was just recently discharged after a similar situation and honestly the comfort would be great. it’s totally your call if you chose to write it tho, i understand that this is a difficult and triggering subject and not everyone is comfortable with writing things like it. if you aren’t comfy please feel free to just ignore my ask! <3

you’re here, and that’s what matters.

TW: mentions of attempted suicide. please proceed with caution.

hey! i just wanted to let you know that i’ve been through a similar situation and understand how you feel (though my case was not as severe). i wish you a safe road to recovery.

note, i think you asked for their characters but it leant itself towards their rl versions. i have a feeling the dsmp versions would be too chaotic for this sensitive subject.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! please do not be afraid to send in an ask. ANON IS ON!!

Phil:

- phil was very scared about you being so gravely hurt, it kept him up for some nights. thankfully, you pulled through.

- he visited whenever he could. if he couldn’t, he was busy making sure coming home felt as comfortable for you as possible while also educating himself on how to take care of you.

- phil would listen to how you felt, and be understanding of your feelings.

- “You don’t have to tell me why you did it, I’m just glad you’re here,” pulling you in for a warm hug.

- when you got back home, he made sure he and the boys had prepared your favorite dinner and desserts.

It was the day you had just got home from rehabilitation, and you two were sitting on the couch. You hadn’t said much, you felt like you had nothing to say. Phil had asked for you to sit down so you two could talk, one on one.

You couldn’t meet his gaze. “I’m sorry,” your voice started to crack. “For making you guys worry about me.” Tears started to form from your eyes and you wept into your hands.

Phil immediately reached over to you to hug you, letting you cry on his shoulder. “We don’t blame you. We don’t blame anybody. I just want you to be here safe with us. Let it all out.” He pat and rubbed your back soothingly as you kept crying. But it was a good cry. He was just glad you came home.

Tommy:

- even though many see tommy as a loud and obnoxious boy with a general disregard for others, we all know deep down that’s a persona. he will go out of his way to make other comfortable in his presence if he truly cares for them. which he does, for you of course.

- he wants to make you happy! when the time is right, he’ll crack jokes and offer to play minecraft with you.

- would tone down the yelling. not because you asked, but he’s afraid of triggering you. treats you like glass. if you notice he’s being quieter than usual and you don’t care, you tell him you don’t.

- if you’re feeling it, he’ll take you out to fun places and to eat. nothing that’s too outlandish like a theme park, but just enough to have a reason to get out of bed that day instead of sleeping in.

It had been a week since you had gotten home and Phil had instructed you to maintain somewhat of a schedule to upkeep yourself. Right now was your nightly routine, washing yourself, brushing your teeth, and finally sliding under the covers. It felt nice. The blanket of sleep consumes you easily…

…

Until you bedroom door opens you’re being aggressively shaken awake. You groan, shying away, but they’re persistent.

“Ey, wake up, it’s morning!” Tommy shakes you again.

You realize you didn’t dream, but think nothing of it. “Tommy please, what do you want.”

Finally, Tommy pulled your warm sheets from over you, making you flinch. “I wanted to go out to the park today! Feed the ducks! Yeesss!”

You sighed. If you didn’t comply now, Tommy will refuse to stop nagging you for the rest of the day. You rolled out of bed and into the bathroom. You could very clearly hear Tommy’s cheers.

You two had gotten ready, eaten breakfast, and said goodbye to the rest of your family so you could head over to the park. It was close enough that it wasn’t unbearable to walk to. Even if you weren’t completely yourself yet, you were glad Tommy was.

After the short walk you two finally reached the park. Tommy immediately bolted toward the pond and you jogged behind. He had already started throwing the ducks some seeds, and even threw it on a duck. It didn’t seem too pleased.

You two sat at the edge of the pond as you watched the ducks eat. “Hey.” You hear Tommy call to you, and you turn your head to him.

“Can we talk about what happened? With you? Is it okay?” You could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

“Go ahead, what is it?”

“When Techno found out what happened to you, and told us the news, I was scared shitless.” He let out a sad huff. “I thought we were going to lose you.” Tommy kept his eyes fixed at the pond in front of him. “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have brought this up. I’m just glad you’re okay.” He sighed.

You put a hand on his shoulder. “Oh Tommy…” You started, “I’m sorry for making you worry. You shouldn’t have to feel like that because of my actions.”

Tommy was lost in thought for a moment, before finally speaking up, “No, please don’t apologize. It’s not anybody’s fault this happened, right?” You nodded.

Tommy stood up, dusting his pants off from the grass. “Come on now, let’s go get some ice cream!” He pulled you up from the ground.

“Last one to get to the shop has to pay!”

Immediately, Tommy bolts in the direction to the ice cream shop, and you catch up to him. No matter the circumstance is, he never seems to fail at putting a smile on your face.

Wilbur:

- i HC wilbur being the oldest, being older than techno by 3 years and older than tommy by 8, like IRL. :]

- i think out of all of your siblings, wilbur exudes the most “protective older brother” energy, yeah?

- remember when tommy lied about his mother being in trouble and how worried and anxious wilbur got? turn that up to 11 with what happened with you.

- with wilbur being the oldest, he of course had the responsibility of taking care of everyone. but somehow you and him didn’t spend as much 1 on 1 time as much as wilbur did with his other siblings

- wilbur definitely was going to change that, realizing that and not wanting to make that mistake again.

- he decided that finding a new hobby with you wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

You were sitting at the dinner table, being the last one there. You were poking at your food for the most part, and Wilbur got home late from… whatever Wilbur thing he was doing. Phil cooked pasta for dinner tonight. Wilbur put down his bags at the door connected to the garage. “I’m home! What’s for dinner?”

“Pasta.”

“Mmm, I love some good ol’ pasta.” He said, already taking a plate out to serve himself. “Also, hey, I bought something I wanted to build with you. Do you mind?”

You finally looked up from your very interesting pasta. “Build..?” You had no idea where this was going.

Wilbur placed his plate on the table and approached the bags of groceries, going through them to find the bag he was looking for. He pulled out a LEGO set. More specifically, a LEGO City set from the looks of the box? “Wilbur, how much was that?”

He blinked at you innocently. “It was only, like, £25. And look! It’s got a little submarine we can make with a rock and ugly sea monster—“

“But why?”

“Why not? It wouldn’t hurt for you to do something new, yeah?” He smiled at you, shaking the LEGO box in front of him to show it off. You sighed, but smiled. “Alright. But maybe you and I should eat this pasta first before we start building.” Wilbur nodded.

“Speaking of water, don’t you think I could teach you how to swim or something?”

“Oh, fuck off with that!”

Technoblade:

- i think out of everyone in the family, he understands you the most in terms of how you feel.

- not suicidal, but just generally having depressive episodes due to his ADHD.

- techno’s generally closed off, but started to really open up to you because he wanted to show he cares, even if it meant going out of his comfort zone.

- techno suggested journaling. once a day or once per week, it didn’t really matter. just as long as you could write down your feelings somewhere.

- he didn’t explicitly say it, but he also bought a book for himself so he could do it along with you. although, he more often than not just forgets to write in it until you mention your own journal.

- if you want to be sad and quiet, you can be sad and quiet with him. his room is a safe space for you if you ever need it and you’re always welcome to come in, just as long as you knock first.

With one hand on your mouse scrolling through the internet, and another resting your head on it, you were safe to admit you were utterly and completely bored. Honestly, you thought about taking another nap after your last one, but a knock on your door stopped you right before you pulled the covers over yourself. “Can I come in?”

You rose from your bed. “Come in. Oh hey Techno.”

He gave a simple wave and his signature “Halloo.” He walked right over to you and handed a journal and a ballpoint pen. “I got this. For you.” His stare was sharp but you could sort of tell he was nervous.

“What for?”

“I dunno. Writin’ your feelings down or drawin’ or somethin’. Whatever helps you vent.” He scratched the back of his neck.

“Oh Techno, thank you. That’s very sweet of you.” You gave a slight smile, but saw that he still had another journal in his hand. “You have two journals?”

Techno raised his eyebrow in confusion before looking down at his hand. “Oh this? It’s for me. So we could do it together, I guess.”

You let out a happy hum. “That’s nice. Say, why don’t we go to your room? I want to see your new lava lamp and stuff.”

Techno shrugged. “Sure. I’ve got more stationary too if you want.” He waved his hand before letting himself out the door, with you following not far behind.

hi hope u enjoyed reading as much as i did writing it. this format was new for me but very fun!

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

WORK FOR THAT

Prompt: Requested, by a lovely anon. Hope you’ll like it, sweetie

Word Count: Long-ish

Pairings: Rhea Ripley x Reader

Warnings: +18, smut, oral sex, dirty talk

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @sassymox , @waywardwrestlewritingwaif , @yungbludjazz360 , @placeoffreedom

Notes: If you’d like to check out my previous works, you can find them on my Masterlist 😉

“I think she’s into you” Asuka smirked, as she stared at Rhea, who was sitting down in one of the catering tables behind me “You should’ve seen the way she was eating you up with her eyes when you were interviewing Drew earlier” She giggled

“She is something! But also seems like trouble, so uh, no thanks” I laughed

“Come on, Y/N, how much trouble could a one night stand cause?”

“A lot when you know that it probably wouldn’t be a one time thing!”

“Oh” She smirked “And why is that?”

“Do you know me at all? If you think I could ride that face only one time and that’s it, then you don’t know me as much as I thought you did! Have you seen her? She looks like she knows exactly how to eat a pussy, ok?”

“I sure can” Rhea whispered in my ear “And if you ever want a free test drive” She slid a piece of paper on top of the table “Let me know, so I can prove it to you”

She stepped back towards the door, when she reached the doorway, she turned around and mischievously stuck her tongue out at me, the piercing in the middle catching the light

“I fucking hate you” I slapped Asuka’s arm

“Ouch” She dramatically screamed “You’re welcome! And let me know if she means it” She laughed when I got up from the table to go to the bathroom, so I could splash some water on my now burning face

……………………………………………….

My phone buzzed on top of the hotel bedroom’s nightstand

Rhea 😈: Good morning, gorgeous. When will you stop being so stubborn and come here to get that free test drive? 👅

Y/N 🍑: In your dreams, Ripley

Rhea 😈: C’mon, princess… Don’t pretend like you don’t want to 😏

Y/N 🍑: It’s not a matter of wanting, it’s a matter of doing what’s right

Rhea 😈: Exactly! And what’s right is for you to come to room 635 right now and ride my face 👅💦

Y/N 🍑: 🤦‍♀️ You’re no good...I gotta go now, I need to shower

Rhea 😈: Can I join you? You know, just in case you need some help of course 😇

Y/N 🍑: Yeah, that’s exactly why you want to join me 🤥

…………………………………………………

Later that day as I was heading to hair and makeup, I heard someone wolf whistling at me. I turned around to find the blonde and female version of the Devil, right behind me

“You scared me”

“Sorry, princess” Rhea leaned against the wall “I just had the perfect view of your ass and fuck, it looks so good that I couldn’t help myself” She smiled

“You are so filthy” I tried to hold back my laugh

“But you love it, don’t you?” She roamed closer “I know you wanna laugh” She teased “Or at least giggle”

She dipped her head down towards my neck, nuzzling her nose against my skin

“You drive me crazy” She mumbled

“Rhea...” My words died on my lips when her arms circled around my waist and her hands rested against my ass, pulling me even closer to her

“I know you’re playing hard to get, but I’m reaching my limit here” Her hands caressed my ass “I’m starting to wonder if I’m doing the right thing, because it feels like I’m pushing you into wanting something you’re not in the mood for”

“You’re not doing anything wrong” I caressed the back of her neck and let my nails lightly scratch her scalp, which made her growl

“So I’m not overstepping here?” She asked

“No, you’re not”

She lifted her head up, and tightened her grip around my waist

“So you won’t mind if I do this?” She leaned down, brushing her lips against mine, testing the waters but also giving me a chance to pull back if I wanted to.

When she realized I wasn’t going to stop her, she fully captured my lips in a breathtaking kiss. Biting my bottom lip, until it slid out of her teeth. I opened my eyes to find a dumb smile glued to her lips

“Oh, you like me” She teased, kissing my lips once more “You like me a lot” She smirked

“You’re so childish” I cackled, as an intense pink shade took over my cheeks

“And you’re blushing?” She hugged me tightly “You really like me” She attacked my neck with several nips, making me squirm and laugh loudly

“You’re so cute together” We heard Asuka say, as she passed by our side in the hallway

We both startled when we heard her voice “Fuck, I thought it was boss lady” Rhea chuckled

“I know, I almost shit in my pants thinking I was going to be fired” I laughed along with her

“Come get dinner with me tonight?”

“I don’t know, Ree...I don’t like to think someone can take a picture of us together and put it on the internet, just so then people can say that I got this job because of you”

“But you didn’t!”

“Yes, but you know how people are, they just assume things, and suddenly fiction becomes truth, even when it’s the farthest thing from it

“Ok...my hotel room then? We can order some room service, have a chit chat, make out” She growled playfully

“That’s all you want me for?” I teased

“No” She giggled “But I’m not gonna sit here and lie to you either! I feel very attracted to you and would love if we had sex, but that’s not the main reason why I like you”

One of the things I loved the most about Rhea was her raw honesty, she’s always one to tell you the truth, no matter how harsh or sappy it is

“Ok, I accept your invitation”

“Really?” She smiled widely, spinning me around the hallway

“Rhea, you’re gonna make us fall!” I laughed

……………………………………………………….

“It looks fine, Y/N!” Asuka said, chewing on a handful of popcorn

“Right” I rolled my eyes in annoyance, staring at the full length mirror in front of me “It displays my pouch beautifully” I poked my belly

“First of all, you’re beautiful! Stop putting yourself down like that!” She stood up from her bed and stopped by my side “Secondly, you could be wearing a trash bag and Rhea still would think you are the most beautiful woman on the earth! Trust me, I know what I’m saying” She smirked

“You heard her say something?” I asked, hopeful

“I heard a thing or two” She smiled wickedly “But I’m not telling you anything!” She laughed when I scowled

…………………………………………………………

I knocked on her door, already regretting my choice for an outfit (which basically consisted of a pair of yoga pants, with a loose crop top shirt and some sneakers), but before I could run back to my room and change outfits, she opened the door and her whistle was what made me get out of my self deprecation daydream.

“Fuck, you look hot” She smirked

See what I meant about the raw honesty?

Shaking my head while chuckling, I said “Thanks”

She offered me her hand, pulled me inside her bedroom and pressed me against the closed door, kissing me as if her life depended on it

“What happened with the ‘food first, sex later’ rule?” I laughed, as she pulled me towards her

“That was before you showed up at my door looking like this” She smacked my ass “This is your fault, princess, not mine” She hugged me tightly

I stepped away from her, turned around and walked towards the bed, giving her the perfect view of my ass in the light grey yoga pants

Do I know my ass looks insanely good in those pants? Yes!

Did I do it on purpose? Hell yes!

When I reached the bed, I placed myself in all fours on top of it, wiggled my ass in the air and looked over my shoulder at her

“Come, Rhea” I purred, and cackled at the low growl she made

She ran towards the bed, grabbed my hips and pushed me down on the mattress, locking me there with her body weight

“You’re in some big trouble, missy”

“Am I? What did I do?” I batted my lashes innocently

She chuckled “You’re no good, woman!” Her hands dipped underneath my crop top, and grabbed my breasts through the bra “And to think I was worried about corrupting you, when in fact you’re as dirty as I am” Her tongue traced patterns along my neck

“Rhea, please” I moaned

She pushed my pants down, but suddenly stopped to sit up

“Where are your panties?” She smirked

“Oh damn it! I knew I was forgetting something” I smiled devilishly

“Fuck” She panted, dipping her head down to my core

I sighed deeply in content, when her tongue met my clit “You’re so fucking good” I looked down and she winked. My hand quickly grabbed her short blonde locks at the same time she pushed two fingers in

“Oh my fucking -” I pulled on her hair when her fingers inside of me curled and her lips began to suck on my clit

I looked down to find her gaze glued to my face “I’m gonna cum” I moaned “Fuck you’re gonna make me cum so good” I bit my lip in order to control my moans

The next touch of her tongue piercing against my bundle of nerves was what made me explode around her fingers.

Rhea’s fingers and tongue actions became softer and softer as I came down from my high. Smiling, she made her way up, towards my lips and kissing me softly

“Why are you so good at this?” I asked, completely mind blown

“Told you I could eat pussy” She chuckled

“Fuck, I think you ruined me” I panted

“Oh no, princess” She grinned “I’m not even close to ruining you yet”

Please, if you’re comfortable with it, let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘

[saphyrenights]

August 2022 marks the 30th anniversary of Hurricane Andrew making it's historic impact on the Bahamas, southern Florida, Louisiana, Mississippi, and other parts of the south and east in 1992. It was the first category 5 hurricane to make landfall in the United States since Hurricane Camille in 1969. Since Andrew, only one other category five hurricane has made a US landfall: Hurricane Michael in 2018.

Adjusted for inflation, Hurricane Andrew caused almost $50 billion in damage, leading to the collapse of Florida's homeowner insurance system. In the years since, building codes were vastly improved in south Florida to withstand powerful hurricanes.

65 people died as a result of the storm, with most fatalities occurring during the recovery phase due to accidents and medical emergencies. Given the enormous amount of damage Hurricane Andrew caused, the shockingly low death toll (especially in Florida) has sometimes been partially credited to meteorologist Bryan Norcross and his 23-hour-long broadcast before, during, and after Andrew made its first US landfall. As the hurricane battered the television studio in downtown Miami, Norcross kept up a calm, steady flow of information and encouragement to everyone listening/watching, even as the storm forced him and his fellow anchors into a small concrete "bunker" for safety.

A humanitarian crisis grew in the aftermath of Hurricane Andrew. Neither President George H. W. Bush nor Florida Governor Lawton Chiles wanted to take responsibility for the government's delayed response to Kate Hale (Miami's deputy emergency management coordinator) and her requests for help in south Florida. With few structures remaining operable, people were becoming dehydrated from lack of water, starving from a lack of food, and desperation grew more prevalent among the survivors. Even with private citizens from all over the country attempting to help the people in south Florida, it wasn't enough. Society broke down into lawlessness and fear. Government reinforcements finally arrived almost a week after Andrew ravaged southern Florida and the northern Gulf coast. 1992 was an election year, and many people cited Bush's delayed disaster response as the reason they voted for his rival, Bill Clinton.

Hurricane Andrew had lasting ripple effects on everything from the insurance industry, to the local ecology (displaced pet pythons formed a breeding population in the Everglades, for example), to national politics. Though its legacy has been eclipsed by arguably more catastrophic hurricanes like Katrina, Maria, and Michael, Andrew marked the beginning of a new era of devastating hurricanes to ravage a more connected United States. In 1992, cell phones, live satellite feeds, cable TV, rudimentary internet, and improved computer modeling kept Americans all over the country informed about Hurricane Andrew in a way that didn't happen just a few years earlier with Hurricane Hugo. Hurricane Andrew marks a milestone in modern disaster messaging and communications.

As we progress through yet another hurricane season, let's not forget the lessons that Hurricane Andrew taught us 30 years ago. 1) Be prepared BEFORE disaster strikes. 2) Working together for the greater good can literally save lives. 3) If authorities tell you to evacuate, LEAVE. 4) A battery powered radio is a lifeline when the electricity goes out. 5) Studying history can prepare us for the future.

Thanks for reading, and stay safe.

***

edit: This was in my drafts. I forgot to post it back in August. I didn't want to delete it, so I'll just post it now, a day late and a dollar short. IDK if anyone following me will get anything out of it, but I like writing essays, so...here ya go.

[mothra-mcyt]

Hi! Love your work!! Can I request a Schlatt SFW alphabet please? Thank you ❤️

(Remember that Schlatt is just a character/persona and this is not about the realy person behind that character)

☾ Jschlatt SFW Alphabet ☽

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

I don't think he would show you affection directly. Most of the time it's subtle like if you two are hanging out he will play your favorite song he remembered you talking about, making sure you drink enough water, always asking if you've eaten something already etc.

Or giving you presents like new video games, buying a hoodie that he saw you looking it while thinking about buying it

And of course he would also show you affection through bullying.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

The friendship would probably start with a love or host or the two of you got introduced to eachother by a friend.

He would be a fun bestfriend having the attitude of "I'm the only one who's allowed to bully you everyone else can shut the fuck up."

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Likes to lay on his back with you at his side with your head laying on his chest. Puts his arm around you and pets your hairs.

Also really likes to lay his head on your chest and hearing your heartbeat.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Imma be honest he's not that good at cooking or cleaning always having unwashed clothes and ordering food most of the time.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

It depends on how long the relationship has been going and on how strongn the bond of you two is.

If you two haven't been together for long it would be way easier for him making him able to tell it to you without being very sad.

But if you two have been a couple for a long time it would be very hard for him probably not being able to keep the tears in.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

I feel like he has commitment issues and he just constantly worries that the two of you are going to break up after marriage so it would take him to really know you're the one to get married.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He doesn't really like showing when he's sad because he thinks it makes him look weak but if you're sad he won't think of you as weak at all and will do his best at comforting you.

He's very aware of his strengh and is very gentle physically always being careful when picking you up or hugging you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

At first he's like "Na i don't really like hugs that much" until once you gave him a hug while he was angry to calm him down. That moment he realised how much he likes getting hugs from you.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

The words "I love you" mean a lot to him so it would take him a long time to say it with a meaning behind it.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

It really depends on the person. If he trusts the person you're hanging out with and knows them then he doesn't care because he trusts you.

But if he already thinks the person you're hanging out with is sus then he can get kinda jealous.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He really likes to kiss you on your neck because he likes the reaction he can get out of you.

Most of his kisses are really heated taking away your breath but if the moment is fitting he likes softer kisses.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

I don't think he's that good around children. He doesn't like how loud and annoying they are. But he finds it adorable how curious they can be sometimes and how they don't give a shir and tell you straight in the face when they think you're ugly.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Sounds really weird but because i know that he likes animals i feel like he'd watch animal documentaries that are playing on the tv early in the morning while laying in bed with you.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

If he has to edit it's probably spent with him sitting at his pc while you're in the room doing whatever you want because he likes your company.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

I think he would start revealing things pretty early but he waits a while to reveal things slowly and not everything at once. Letting you take your time in figuring out if you like him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Usually he doesn't get seriously angered easily but plays being angry. He could never be seriously angry at you because he's scared you're gonna hate him. But if someone is being mean to you he can get angry easily.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He likes to remember stuff about you and write it down in his phone. Your favorite colour, favorite flower, favorite song, your insecurities etc.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Once when he was editing you fell asleep in his lap trying to stay awake so he acted like you were a cat and did his best not to move to disturb you in anyway that could wake you up.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

If he sees you being uncomfortable because of someone he can be pretty protective. If it happens outside he will get you out of harms way and probably insult the person that is making you uncomfortable. Is also not afraid to throw hands.

He's basically constantly 'bullying you' but if someone other than him bullies you he's like 'Hey bitch you can't do that'

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He puts a lot of effort into dates and anniversaries making sure that you're going to like what he does/gives you.

Usually when he gifts you stuff it can be anything that he finds on the internet but he likes to gift you games over steam.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He's not very good at expressing his emotions especially sadness so he tends to bottle up all sadness until he has a breakdown. While in that breakdown he distances himself from you because he's scared you're gonna hate him.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

I mean he's not completely obsessed with his looks but he just likes to look neat for himself. What he is kinda obsessed with tho is his beard and he always wants it to look good.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

The thing is he's definitely able to be alone for a while without immediately missing you. But he loves just you being around him without conversations so he would probably start to muss your company.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

If he really trusts you he'll lay his head in your lap and if you pet his hair he'll probably fall asleep. Loves to do this after a long day of editing or streaming.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He wouldn't like it if his partner gets overly jealous. It annoys him and he sometimes just wants to hang out with friends.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He has a tendency to pull the blanket closer to him when sleeping so you better cuddle with him if you don't wanna freeze.

He also sometimes drools but don't tell him that.

Masterlist

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

just kidding, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: There was a time where you would be out partying, getting drunk and fucking up a storm. But you’re different now. You stopped drinking. Now you’re the one waiting for Kim Taehyung to call so you can pick him up from his drunken adventures. There’s just one small hitch –  Taehyung’s roommate, Jeon Jungkook, offering you a mojito.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, (a little) alcohol consumption; slight crack at the start lol; smut (fem reader, thigh riding, handjob, fingering, m-receiving oral); non-idol!AU; Jungkook is a tempter and he knows it; noona!reader and you’re a nympho, whoops

--

“I don’t drink.”

“Oh.”

Jeon Jungkook blinked at you, holding out the mojito.

“But… I made it.”

“That’s true. But I don’t drink.”

He pursed his lips and frowned.

“You sure?” he asked, putting on his best puppy eyes.

“Yup.”

“I promise it’s not poisoned.”

You laughed, jangling your car keys. “I have to drive later. But also, I do not drink.”

He nodded and took a sip of it. “It’s really smooth.”

You smiled and went back to your phone. Kim Taehyung was supposed to text you in a bit so you could pick him up from a party. In exchange, he let you borrow his computer to play League of Legends since he had a better PC and internet than your apartment. There was an event going on, so you had to grind games. You were getting tired though and you didn’t want to be in the middle of a game when Taehyung called half-drunk.

Now you were sitting on the couch, as Taehyung’s roommate Jeon Jungkook stood there and took sips from his mojito. Just standing there, thinking. He did that a lot, drifting off into space randomly. You figured it was some sort of weird habit. He was wearing a striped black-and-white turtleneck and black leather pants. His cheek-length black hair was pinned back on the right side, revealing his undercut. It seemed like he was going out, but he had spent all night in his room before going to the kitchen and then appearing with said mojito. Why? Honestly, you had no idea.

“Are you going somewhere?” you asked, looking up at him from the sofa.

Jungkook snapped out of it and stared at you. “What?”

You pointed to his outfit. “You’re dressed all fancy.”

Jungkook looked down. “Oh. Uh, not really. I was going to go with Taehyung tonight but I had an assignment to finish that I forgot about. I never changed.”

You nodded. Hm.

Okay.

“How do you know Taehyung-ssi, anyway, noona?”

“I sucked his dick once.”

Jungkook nearly dropped his glass.

You calmly scrolled through Instagram. You flickered your eyes up to see Jungkook’s shocked face and his red ears.

“I’m kidding,” you chuckled, seeing Jungkook blink rapidly to collect himself. “I used to be the Biology lab TA. He’d ask for help a lot. And he plays League, so we ended up hanging out. Also, I have a car.”

“R-right…” Jungkook crab-walked to the armchair next to the sofa and sat down, placing his drink on the table. “Right, yeah.”

You two sat in silence, rather comfortable for you, rather awkward for Jungkook. You didn’t come here that often, but it was always only to borrow Taehyung’s internet or to pick him up from random outings. It was never a big deal to you, as Taehyung was always nice and bought you food later as thanks. As for Jeon Jungkook, he was just kind of there. Introverted, quiet, sometimes piped up to inquire about something when he was curious. You weren’t exactly talkative, but he didn’t bother you either, so it was never too memorable.

“What’s on your shirt?” Jungkook asked, tilted his head.

You lifted your phone to give him a better look at the nine-pointed star and bleeding goat head of your long-sleeved black shirt. “It’s an American metal band.”

Jungkook blinked at you. “You listen to metal?”

You put your phone back down. “Yup.”

You suddenly remembered your legs were wide open because you were wearing your black velvet pants and they were hot as fuck. Wearing these was a mistake. You closed your legs and settled them on the couch. They had been expensive though, so you felt like you had to wear them to get your money’s worth. Damnnit. Why did you buy these again?

“Why don’t you drink alcohol?”

You closed Instagram and opened Twitter. “Because I become sexually uninhibited.”

Silence.

You looked up to see Jungkook trying to process what you said, imaginary question marks popping on top of his head.

“It means I fuck anything with legs, Jungkook.”

His brown doe eyes went wide. “W-what?”

You shrugged. “Yeah, you know, one time one of my friends caught me in a room with my clothes off blowing three guys at once, so I figured, hmm, maybe I shouldn’t drink anymore. That ever happen to you?” you added nonchalantly.

Jungkook shook his head so quickly his long black hair floated in the air.

“Huh. Well, me neither,” you chuckled. “I was just kidding.”

Jungkook looked like a mother who was trying to process all of their child’s sex escapades. “That’s good then. Whew,” he remarked with an awkward laugh. He took another long, hasty sip of his mojito.

“It was four guys.”

Jungkook nearly choked. He snapped his head up to see your shoulders shaking as you tried to contain your snickering, hiding behind your phone. He glared at you, clearing his throat sharply.

“You shouldn’t lie, noona,” he muttered, frowning.

You lowered your phone and straightened. “I was laughing at your expression. I wasn’t lying.”

He narrowed his eyes, disbelieving. “About what part?” he said warily.

“I do not drink because I will literally try to fuck anyone in my immediate vicinity when I’m drunk,” you stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “You can imagine it’s not very good for my sexual health or my social life as I stumble out of a party covered in cum of four guys I don’t know.”

Jungkook was in the middle of drinking his mojito and swallowed so hard the entire drink disappeared into his throat.

“What?” he wheezed out, slamming his chest with his fist.

You put your hands up. “It happens.”

Jungkook looked as if he as going to pass out, either from the image or from drinking too fast. You picked up your phone again and set Taehyung a text.

Are you dead? I think I killed your roommate.

Jungkook shook his head vigorously. “You must be joking.”

“Nope, that actually happened. Ask Taehyung.”

Jungkook looked taken aback. “What?” he said again in the same panicked tone.

“I told you someone found me.”

You swore that if this was the Wild West, a tumbleweed would have drifted by. Jungkook looked as white as a sheet. You calmly plucked the glass from his hand since it seemed like he was rapidly losing focus of his surroundings.

“How… That’s so dangerous!” Jungkook sputtered, seemingly coming back to life.

“Indeed, which is why I am sitting here right now and not piss drunk in a random bedroom in someone’s house,” you replied calmly, waiting for Taehyung to text you back. “See, this is why you don’t offer me a drink because then I would try to fuck you. You’ve been spared.”

Jungkook gave you a very strange expression and suddenly crossed one leg over the other. You rubbed your eyes. Hopefully Taehyung didn’t stay out too late. You were getting sleepy.

“Well, you still have to be attracted to them, r-right?” Jungkook commented, looking away and biting his knuckle.

You didn’t look up from your phone.

“I suppose. I don’t really have a type, and when you’re drunk you only look at the parts you’re attracted to anyway and forget about anything else,” you responded, chuckling at a cute cat picture. “At least you’re attractive, so if I met you at a party drunk, I’d fuck you, easy.” Owls could sit cross-legged? What? You squinted at the meme, trying to see if it was Photoshopped.

Silence. Absolute fucking silence.

You decided that it seemed unlikely the photo of this sitting owl was Photoshopped and lifted your head to see Jungkook staring at you like you had three heads.

“What?”

“You’re…” Jungkook chuckled awkwardly. “Just kidding, right?”

You blinked. “What? About you being attractive?” You pointed to him. “No. I’m not. You’re handsome, Jungkook.”

You saw his ears turning red once again. “Ahaha… but you wouldn’t fuck me, right?”

“I would.”

A crow cawed loudly outside the window.

Jungkook wasn’t blinking. Was he dead? Was Taehyung going to come home to a statue of a roommate? You tilted your head and waved your hand in front of his face. Jungkook didn’t move. Maybe he went into shock.

“Jungkook? You alive in there?” you asked, waving your hand some more.

He blinked rapidly, startling you. “I… I…”

Okay, now he was scaring you. Was he broken? Did Taehyung have an A.I. for a roommate and not tell you? Taehyung, please come home and oil your Jungkook, you thought dryly as you watched him scrunch up his nose, as if he was trying to stretch his face muscles out.

“You surprised me,” Jungkook sputtered, nervously rubbing the back of his head. “I just… there’s no way…”

“That I would fuck you?” you replied, completely chill. He turned even redder. You placed a hand on your cheek and rested your elbow on the couch. “Why not? You’re cute, have nice fashion sense, seem like a decent guy.”

Yeah, Jungkook was definitely breaking down because he did not seem to know how to form proper sentences anymore. He was like a fish out of water, opening and closing his mouth awkwardly.

“But, I couldn’t though.” You cut off his attempts to fathom a thought. He stiffened, his doe eyes shifting to you. “Because you’re Taehyung’s friend, not a stranger. I try not to mess up my friendships, you know?”

He swallowed thickly. “R-right.”

You removed your hand from your cheek and cracked your neck, leaning back against the plushy couch arm. Sheesh, where was Taehyung? You could have played an entire ARAM in the time he was messing about. He told you around this time, but perhaps he had run late. Oh well.

“But… if he doesn’t know…”

Hold up.

You lifted your head, slowly, slowly to Jungkook’s nervous stare and shifty eyes.

“I mean, if Taehyung doesn’t know… doesn’t count, right?” he asked innocently.

His dark hair obscured part of his angular face, pink lips slightly parted. His eyes were watching your every move like a hawk, brows furrowed slightly. The living room light reflected off his glowing tan skin and the glossiness of his lips.

If you don’t stop looking like that, you thought. There’s going to be consequences.

“Let’s not tread dangerous waters here,” you said quietly.

One of his dark eyebrows quirked upwards ever-so-slightly. “How is it dangerous? Taehyung’s going to call you when he needs to be picked up. He’s going to see the inside of your car before he even sees the inside of this apartment.”

Uh oh. Now your heart was beating fast. Fuck. Fuckity fuck. Alcohol made you sexually uninhibited because you really, really enjoyed having sex. Far too much. But you couldn’t go through life fucking everything with legs (or without them – to be honest, it wasn’t that strict of a requirement) because, hello, societal standards? Social appropriateness of maybe not fucking the cashier at your favorite coffee spot or your friend’s roommate in his apartment? You know, you had to be a productive human being and not a damn nympho. Wasn’t like you were getting paid for it.

Jungkook lifted his leg from his knee and spread them, tilting his chin upward.

Oh ho?

Well, now you knew why Jungkook crossed his legs, because a very obvious bulge was struggling in his leather pants. Where was embarrassed Jungkook? Shocked Jungkook? The Jungkook that was stunned at your crude words and straightforward manner?

Give him back. This is too much.

Perhaps you had been a little too frank for once – ah, who are you kidding, you’d probably been in this situation before.

Jungkook’s right hand slid up his thigh, long fingers with tiny, delicate tattoos, tracing the contours of his muscular quads. You tilted your head as he danced his fingers along his inner thigh before spreading them over his bulge and cupping it, stroking slowly through the thick fabric as he licked his lips.

“I am not drunk enough for this,” you muttered.

“Are you scared?” Jungkook asked softly, still palming himself through his pants. “Scared Taehyungie will be mad at you?” You felt a muscle in your face twitch. It seemed that he knew he was getting the better of you, because his voice was dropping low, sultry. You did not like being challenged, because well… you always tried to rise to the challenge. To your detriment, sometimes.

“Is Taehyung the boss of you?”

Fuck.

You snapped your head at him, narrowing your eyes.

“No one is the boss of me,” you replied icily.

Jungkook softened his features, laying his head back in the armchair. His hair curled around his cheek as his breathing deepened. His teeth caught his lower lip and gradually released it, the pink flesh popping back into place. The tiny mole under his lip trembled.

“Then do whatever you want, noona.”

Your eyes narrowed to slits, nails digging into your palms.

“What’s gotten into you?”

Jungkook’s voice was a smokey wisp, soaking into you.

“Just imagining you on your knees, naked, covered in cum…” He groaned, rocking his hips into his hand. “Sounds so fucking hot.”

Well. It had been. It was fucking hot, it made you wet just thinking about that night. It had felt amazing as the cum dripped down your skin, covering you, making you filthy with your sinful lust, so delicious and raw and dirty that right now you sat up, spreading your legs again because the space between your thighs was too fucking hot, too fucking much. Stupid velvet pants.

You got up from the couch, eyes still on Jungkook, his pupils dilating, tongue tracing the outskirts of his lips. He leaned his head back a little and moaned your name, long and lustful, eyelids fluttering. His dark hair brushed against his brows.

“Stop,” you breathed, reaching down to push your shirt up. Your fingers hovered over the button of your pants. Too hot. Too fucking hot. “You’re doing this on purpose. You’re tempting me.”

The side of his lips curved upward into a lazy smirk.

“I am.”

You placed your phone on the coffee table. The sound was on. Taehyung still hadn’t texted you. You would hear it vibrate against the wood. You took another step, unbuttoning your pants. Fuck. Why was Jungkook so sexy? You could resist if he wasn’t so damn hot.

“Don’t want you to think…” You swallowed; throat tight. “Don’t want you to think I’m treating you like a sex object.” The zipper of your pants slid down. “Because you seem like a nice guy.”

He smiled, undoing his pants too, sighing as the zipper freed his bulge.

“If I was your sex object…” Jungkook purred, pushing his tight leather pants down, down. “Even for only a little bit, I wouldn’t hold it against you, noona.”

Now your velvet pants were being peeled off your hips, leaving you in your seamless black panties. Oh, fuck, his thighs. Muscular and powerful, skin so pretty you wanted to touch. His eyes slid down your body.

“Holy shit, your thighs.”

Seemed like you both had the same idea. You climbed onto Jungkook’s lap, straddling one of his thighs. Now he was close to you, smelling like fresh linen, presence so warm and powerful you were being drugged by it. Your hands slid onto his shoulders, gripping them finger by finger, breathing hard as he tensed them. Slowly, you sat down on his left thigh, gasping as your soaked, clothed heat touched him. He grinned, flexing it under you. His own hand slid up your thigh, squeezing it, watching his fingers sink into your softness.

“Now, this,” Jungkook breathed, staring into your eyes. “This is a sexy body.”

Your heart was beating so fast, so fast. He watched you closely, eyes so dark that you felt like you were drowning in them. You rolled your hips into his thigh, hissing as you became wetter. He flexed the muscle under you, hard and unforgiving, sitting back and letting you rub yourself against it. You smeared your juices into his skin, stimulating your clit, inhaling sharply. Jungkook was still clutching your thigh, his large hand pressed into you.

“Is that enough for you?” he drawled, his other hand sliding up to land on your other thigh. “Is that all you want from me?”

Your eyes flickered to his playful, daring brown orbs.

“There’s no time…” you muttered.

“Take off your panties,” he nudged.

He placed his hands on your waist and lifted you up. You bit your lip, uncertain.

“Noona, I want you to feel good.”

He slipped one finger on the side of your black panties and pushed down. You took the other side and pushed them down, raising your legs to pull out one and then the other. Your panties fluttered to the ground. Jungkook’s gaze on you as you lowered again, bare and dripping, onto his thick thigh. Oh, holy hell. He tensed it and pressed your hips down, grinding his thigh onto your slopping wet pussy. You moaned, grasping his forearms through his turtleneck, feeling the strength in them, the hardness. You closed your eyes, humping his thigh, lost in bliss.

“Can you cum like that?” You felt Jungkook lean forward, lips brushing against yours. “Cum you cum just by rubbing yourself on me?”

Tiny, rigid nods. “If you... kiss me.”

He groaned as he felt your opening tense on his skin. “I thought you would never ask.”

And then his lips were on yours, soft, delicate. Sweet, erotic kisses contrasting with how hard you were fucking his leg, his tongue dancing in the periphery of yours, dodging you playfully as you whined, clutching him tighter. He pressed you down harder, sliding his tongue into your mouth. You shuddered, wetness pooling at his kisses, your core tightening as he whispered your name into your lips.

“Your body is so fucking delectable,” his murmured. “So sexy, it’s sinful.”

You clenched your jaw as you basically rammed your hips into his thigh, slippery and hard, your clit throbbing with need.

“Cum for me, noona.” You could feel his lips form the words as he kissed you, awe in his voice. “Cum on my thigh.”

You dug your nails into his clothed arms and shut your eyes, moaning his name, feeling the strings inside you snap, pleasure waterfalling into you as you came, squelching onto his skin, so viscous and thick that it added to the lubrication, your swollen clit throbbing. Your eyelids fluttered as his hands pressed you down, grinding your hips into his muscle so you could ride your high, extend it until you were melting, hands falling from his arms. He cradled you gently, your chest heaving with effort.

“J-Jungkook…”

“Mhm?”

You cracked your eyes open. “Has my phone made any noise?”

He shook his head. His dark hair covered part of his left eye. “No, noona.”

“Ah.”

Maybe Taehyung was getting laid. Good for him.

“I’m going to touch you now,” you stated. To the point.

Jungkook grinned.

You reached down to his black boxer briefs and yanked them down, freeing his cock and balls. He lifted his legs a little and you pushed them down, but he took your hand, placing it on his semi-hard cock. He moaned as your fingers wrapped around him.

“Do you want to take it off?” you asked quietly, referring to his underwear.

“No,” Jungkook replied tightly, cupping his hand around yours, using your hand to stroke himself a few times. “I can’t wait anymore.”

You nudged his hand aside and began your pace. He leaned back, gasping softly. Your grip wasn’t what it used to be. Carpal tunnel was a bitch. Still, you furrowed your brow, concentrating, He swelled in your hand, pre-cum leaking at the red tip dripping onto your fingers. You stopped for a moment to coat your palm with it, bringing it to your mouth and licking your hand, moaning at his taste. Jungkook shivered, watching your saliva spread all over before returning to his cock, adding to the lubrication.

He pressed his head into the back of the armchair, hips rising as you started again, jaw tense.

“I’m not as good as before,” you gritted out. “My wrist–”

“It’s perfect,” Jungkook interjected. “Fuck, your hand is perfect.”

He was rock hard in your hand as you jacked him off. You snuck a glance at him. His hands were on his face, combing through his dark hair, eyes closing, mouth open as he moaned, rutting into your palm.

He was just so, so sensual that it was driving you insane, his noises making you wet. There was something feral about it, the way he looked at you through his lashes.

“Can I finger you?” he pleaded. “Please.”

Your hips were raised to get a good angle, your arousal already dripping down your thigh.

“Of course. Touch me, Jungkook.”

He lowered his hands, hair all over his face, staring at you through the veil. His fingers slid up your thigh, slipping in between. Dipping in, moaning as he touched your wetness. You sucked in a breath, feeling his fingertip graze your swollen clit. Your grip tightened.

“Jungkook.” Your eyes found his, glazed with lust. “You can be rougher with me. If you want.”

He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Don’t want to hurt you…”

You smirked.

“You forget who you’re talking to.”

He pushed two fingers into you, feeling you suck him in as you stroked him, smile still on your lips. Jungkook grinned, pressing his thumb against your clit and rubbed it as he began to thrust his fingers into you, matching your pace, the two of you focused on getting each other off, breath mixing between your bodies.

“Noona?”

“Yeah?” you panted, whimpering at his roughness, his fingers scissoring in you, stretching your walls as you squeezed back, faster and faster.

“Wanna cum in your mouth.”

You chuckled as he shoved a third finger into you, punishing your clit repeatedly, so full, so good, it was making you crazy, but you had to focus, you had to get him off.

“This is a weird angle.”

Jungkook suddenly pulled his fingers out and pinched your clit, making you hiss and your legs shake, pained whimpers clawing from your throat.

“Do it.” His voice was a low growl. “Do it and I’ll reward you.”

You slid off the chair, still stroking his cock, narrowing your eyes at him. Jungkook looked down at you, smirk on his pretty pink lips, whispering your name. You removed your hand and replaced it with your mouth. Fuck. He sighed, hand coming up to tangle in your hair, not quite pressing you down but holding you there, his taste coating your tongue, his hard length throbbing in your mouth. You moaned onto his cock and his hips trembled, his long bangs covering his left eye.

Ugh, the way he looked at you. Your felt your pussy clench, demanding his cock.

Instead, you began to move your head up and down, soft lips around him, mouth tight around the head and length. His hand stayed there, moving with you, firm, reminding you that you couldn’t stop, that you had to keep going until he came. You set a nice, fast, tight pace, already knowing he was close, hearing his breathy groans, repeating your name over and over.

“Always thought you were fuckable,” Jungkook panted out. “Always wanted you in my bed.” He pressed his head into the armchair, shutting his eyes. “Couldn’t figure out how to convince you, couldn’t figure out how to tell you that I wanted you so very much.”

You tightened your throat around him and he dug his nails into your scalp, breathing shallow and tight.

“Gonna cum, noona, fuck, gonna cum down that pretty throat of yours.”

Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, his orgasm filling your mouth, coating your tongue, slipping down your throat. You gulped and he yelped at the sensitivity, whimpering as you softly lapped at the head, cleaning him off. Drinking it all, intoxicated with it, so satisfied swallowing it all.

Oh, how you loved sex.

You slowly removed your mouth crawling back up, no longer aware of your obligations to Taehyung, only interested in brushing Jungkook’s hair aside and kissing him deep, moaning as his tongue forced into your mouth, tasting himself. His hand slipped back into your folds and three fingers deep into you, fucking you. You whined into his mouth, telling him how good he was, telling him how good he felt inside you, telling him you how much you wanted his cock, his beautiful, thick cock jammed all the way inside you.

The door lock clicked and neither of you heard anything.

“Ah, I managed to hitch a ride with Jim– WHAT THE FUCK?”

Taehyung’s deep voice boomed throughout the apartment and you were still making out with Jungkook’s face as his fingers thrust into your slopping wet pussy, spreading you out. You whimpered as Jungkook broke the kiss, pushing you against his body as Taehyung slammed the door and marched in, kicking off his shoes carelessly.

“Fucking shit, why are you like this, fucking everything in your sight, you absolute–”

You turned your head, somewhat ashamed, feeling somewhat sorry – but not that sorry, because Jungkook’s fingers were still inside you. Taehyung’s strong features were twisted in annoyance, but he wasn’t looking at you.

He was scowling at Jungkook.

“I told you,” Taehyung said sharply, sweeping his lush fur coat back to reveal his black turtleneck and black slacks, pointing an accusing finger at Jungkook. “Not to get her started, because she is a horny seductress.”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Excuse me?”

Taehyung ticked his head, looking down at you. “Am I wrong?”

You pouted. “Well, no.”

“And,” he added, directing his attention at you. “Why would you not ask me to fuck first? I’ve seen you naked hundreds of times!”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows. “Hundreds?”

Taehyung ignored him, leaning down and taking your chin. Brown eyes a mix of angry and amused, observing your lust. “I am offended that I respected you and you’re sitting in my roommate’s lap instead of mine.” His breath seemed like alcohol.

Your lips parted, heart beating fast. “S-sorry, Tae… You’re just always dragging me out of weird stuff that I thought you were disgusted by me…”

Taehyung brought his face close to you. You loved his voice. So deep, so intense, so heavy. It seemed to shake your soul with bass.

“I’ve wanted you on my dick the second I saw you.”

And then he kissed you, hard and full, as Jungkook’s fingers began to move inside you once again.

-

part ii: kth x you x jjk

--

masterpost

[sendyefrogs]

wish you cared

a/n: this was a rollercoaster to write, and through tears, all i say is, osamu big himbo :/  tw: swearing  word count: 3.9K (lot of word ;-;)  pairing: osamu x gn!reader  genre: angst (if it’s not very good, pls forgiveness, internet person)

The late nights with the light breathy words, whispered discussions, the iridescent illumination of the screen on you face, exchanging words that would have neither rhyme nor reason when the next day greeted you. But not a day went by that you didn’t giggle to yourself, alone in your room, as your eyes skimming over the words that Osamu’s fingers carelessly typed out. And you knew, before you realized, you knew in the deepest of hearts that you were gradually falling for the inane spiker, that this was your middle school infatuation. Little did you realize that this was not, in fact, an infatuation but rather something that would plague you for years, building up for years, overwhelming you, pouring out, resulting in meaningless words and broken hearts.

But for now, it was no different than normal, your heart skipping a beat as he replied to every message of yours, head whirling with possibilities of what he would say next, feeling slightly giddy if you were to describe the emotion you experienced.

The truth was that talking to Osamu Miya, it was like being intoxicated. Not that you truly knew what it meant to be in such a state, but this was what you imagined it to be like. Always waiting for more, desiring to keep going, for the night to just still right then so you may converse endlessly, not having to worry about your mundane duties as the moonlight that shone through your windows left you feeling light-headed and weightless.

But the moon always set to give way to a new day, where you could see him in real time, but none of it felt as ethereal as the late-night talks, as intimate as it was when it was just the two of you alone, as scandalous as it felt spending hours mindlessly revealing the tiniest details of yourself to him.

You’d hoped, of course, that things wouldn’t change when time came for high school; the time, most say, is when old relationships are forgotten, the path to the future is forged, a future you hoped still entailed the time you spent with the Miya twins and Suna. You weren’t ready to move on from Osamu yet, you’d never really gotten to know if he returned the emotions you experienced. And so, you ended up a freshman at Inarizaki High, manager for the volleyball team, an integral part of the group.

You were content. Or so you thought.

Y/n was not someone who forgot easily. This was a thought that occasionally graced the train of thought that ran across Osamu Miya’s mind. They hadn’t forgotten when he said he preferred citrus drinks over plain water, hadn’t forgotten the day he’d mentioned that onigiris were his favorite, or the time he’d wished someone would make him a playlist for when he cooked.

A thought that sprang to mind as he sipped on his lemon water every practice, you beside him, mocking Atsumu, or having sarcastically enthusiastic conversations with Sunarin, or tilting your head upwards to smile at him and telling him about your day while he chuckled lightly.

A thought that crossed his mind every time you cheerfully called out his name during lunch, plopping your pale blue lunchbox on the table, bringing out an onigiri for him every other day, leading to much whining by Atsumu, but he liked it; he was special to you, not his brother, not Sunarin, it was him.

A thought that occurred to him as he put on his headphones, clicking on the song queue you made for him, one that was admittedly perfect for his cooking, calming enough for him to know what he doing, yet passionate enough for him to feel inspired. He never told anyone, but each dish he procured after a day’s cooking, was modelled after a particular song you spent day picking out to put in his playlist; one that was just for him.

He liked being special in your eyes. It made him feel like he was at the top of the world. He noticed, even if you didn’t realize, he noticed everything you did for him. Your encouragement for him at volleyball matches slightly louder than for the rest, not enough for anyone to realize but enough for him to spike the ball down stronger as your voice drowned out the crowds’ cheers for him. The sound of happiness you made eating his food, always motivating him, telling him that he was the best chef you’d ever met. The subtle blush that spread across your face as he patted your head, ruffled your hair. How a simple smile from him could light up your face, no matter how bad you’d been feeling before that.

And how could he ever forget the conversations you had under the covers of darkness? The night only rejuvenated his hope that you were only his, your gentle words and stupid memes, the quiet chuckling under his blankets that made Atsumu throw a pillow at him, yelling at him to take his ‘lover boy’ talks elsewhere.

That was the part he disliked. He was fond of you, of everything you did for him, of how you made him feel like he could do anything when you smiled at him. But it wasn’t a crush. You were his friend. Not everything was about romance. Just because your face made every day, and night, of his better, it did not mean he had to be in love with you. You weren’t exceptionally attractive or anywhere close to the type he preferred, so why did people assume he was in love with you?

For some reason, however, he couldn’t utter those words to you. He knew, that you liked him, else why would you do so much for him? But he chose to ignore it, because if the truth came out and you decided to part ways with him seeing as nothing would ever come out of your efforts, he couldn’t bear it. He needed you. He wanted you.

But not in the way you wanted him. So, he kept you around, no matter how selfish that was.

“Good work, captain!” You smile at Kita-san, handing him a water bottle, quickly moving down the line. “Good work, dipshit.” You toss the bottle to Atsumu who stuck his tongue out at you. “Work, Suna,” you teased and received an eyeroll in response. Handing out all the bottle and murmuring ‘good work’, you finally moved to Osamu.

You loved the whole team and spending time with all of them was something that you adored, but you always saved the last bottle for Osamu. You were sure to keep it separate from the other ones, tucked in the pocket of the basket you carried so you didn’t mistake it for another bottle.

“Here ya go Osamu, good work today! You’re getting so much better.” You face away from him, towards the pair that were walking towards you now that they had a small break.

“Thanks y/n. So, did you decide who you would like as your partner for the English project the teacher assigned us? I mean Sunarin and Atsumu would be glad to have you as their partner too, seeing as you’re the genius among us.” He brought his face down closer, attempting a mocking tone, but it came out as a genuine whisper, directly sounding in your ear, that made a shiver run down your spine.

“W-well, I h-haven’t really decided yet, but I-I was thinking we could work together.” His proximity had flustered you. Your face tilted slightly upwards to him, and only then did you realize that god fucking dammit he’s too close, I can’t think like this. The thumping of your heart against your chest didn’t help either, or the fact that he, apparently, didn’t understand how much you affected him.

You collected yourself before you stuttered anymore. However, barely a word passed your lips that you were interrupted. “Ay lovebirds. This is still a public place. Yer too close to them, ‘Samu. Do you not see how red they’re turning?” You blink twice and throw a punch at the blond, missing completely in your embarrassed state, end up crossing your arms while the two laughed.

“Aw did I say something wrong though? Are you upset I exposed you to your knight in shining covers? Ya talk way too much with him at night. Do you even get any sleep?”

“Just shut up, ‘Tsumu.” Gathering up all the bottles, you walk away, too discomposed to face Osamu after what his twin said. It was probably already obvious to him, but you didn’t want to be humiliated like this in front of someone you held so dear. At the water cooler, you realize you’ve forgotten to bring Osamu’s bottle in your hurry to get as far away from him at that moment as possible. “Fuck.”

You turn back towards the gym.

The three boys watched y/n almost sprint away, laughing lightly. He can feel two sets of eyes on him, and the question echoes in his head. When are you confessing ‘Samu? He wasn’t. How could he when it would just be a lie? He didn’t want to be unfair with you, you deserved a shot at true love. But then again, he wasn’t exactly giving you a chance here was he? Keeping you bound to him, avoiding conversations about admitting romantic intentions, flustering you just for a reaction when he knows, he knows what he does to you.

“You should confess ‘Samu.” His brother’s voice sounded out, unusually soft and serious. Sunarin eyed him, seemingly thinking the same words, but not uttering them. This was the last straw. He had grown tired of people asking him about his affection for y/n, he didn’t realize how or when, but he had. He didn’t want to keep having to repeat the same tactics over and over, dodge and deflect. He was done talking about you in his free time, time he would much rather spend with you than about you, and people just didn’t seem to get it.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” The words came out as a snarl, his temper rising too high too fast. “I don’t fucking like y/n, they’re not my type. I just keep them around because I know they care.” He inhaled, avoiding all the staring eyes of his teammates. The words had come out unintentionally hostile, but he was glad he’d said them. “I mean, have you seen them? They’re not really attractive or interesting at all. It’s just because they make me feel special that they still hang around with us, that I let them hang with us.” His secret came spilling out and he didn’t regret it; he was glad to finally get it off his chest.

Atsumu and Suna, however, weren’t listening to him anymore. They were both staring past him, at the sight behind him, which Osamu whirled around to see. You were standing completely still, arms trembling at your sides, basket of bottles at your feet, eyes glassy.

The whole team followed you with their gaze as you quietly walk to the captain, bow without opening your eyes, murmur out an apology and exit the gymnasium as fast as you could. It was not a swift recognition of what had happened, but Osamu understood eventually that it was his words that had caused this. His brother and Suna merely stood there, shock evident in their eyes. “So, you were just taking advantage of them?” Osamu’s head whipped up at the soft voice of his captain. His words were calm but his expression was one of silent fury. “Do you truly realize how much you broke them with those few sentences? You may not have understood it but, we can all see it. They don’t just care for you, they love you. More than you’ve ever loved anything in your life.”

Osamu was overwhelmed, to say the least. He never intended to hurt you like that, but it had happened. Now, what of all those late-night talks and secret shared smiles? What of the playlists you made for him and the encouraging words you whispered to him before a game? What of his onigiri supply that you procured for him from your little blue lunchbox and the motivating comments you gave him on his cooking?

Before he could stop it, the stinging behind his eyes gave way to tears. Not because he loved you, he still didn’t harbor any romantic intentions towards you, he didn’t want to. But because his heart ached at the thought of being away from you, at the idea of losing you to another group of people, at the realization that you belonged with him.

Belonged with him, just as friends.

Your legs couldn’t carry you away fast enough. It was bad enough that you learnt that someone you’d been in love with for years now, had just been using you, but it was worse that he admitted clearly it in front of a group of people that you adored. The shattering of your heart as he spoke masked the quiet chatter of his teammates at the display. The humiliation seeped through you, the pitying glances of the team piercing you as Osamu’s words echoed in your ears - have you seen them … not my type … let them hang with us … keep them around … not attractive or interesting.

If that was what he really thought, then why did he let you make those advances? Why did he let you make a laughing stock out of yourself by doing so much for him? Why did he make you believe that he was equally interested, staying up late with you, returning the same energy you exuded?

You knew why now – he wanted to be special. He wanted to bask in the passion that you showed towards him without having to reciprocate any of the emotions. And you gave him that every day, didn’t you? Making him a separate water bottle, bringing him an onigiri, compiling playlists for him, asking him to work with you on the project even if it usually ends up with you doing all the work so you can keep up your grades?

Everything you did, you did for him. What hurt most was that he had been there for you too. He was, in all truth, your best friend. He knew every insecurity, every desire.

The time when your grades plummeted because you stayed up too late, he was there to comfort you, hold your hand and let you lean on his shoulder, cry in fear of what your parents would say, murmuring in low voices about things he did that day to distract you. The time you had refused to leave your room for days after watching that terribly sad anime, he was there to knock some sense into you, but he also laid gentle kisses on your forehead and let you explain ‘everything that was wrong with the world’. The time that he snuck into your bedroom at night just because you mentioned that you were bored and wanted to meet him; cuddling with him until he fell asleep, so you let him stay the night, waking up with his arm around your waist.

And yet, he had absolutely no hesitation in bad-mouthing you in front of everyone you were close with. Did none of that mean anything to him?

Even as the tears streamed down your face, the anger built up slowly, creeping out of you, staying with you long after your face was dry and eyes were left red. And that’s when you decided – Miya Osamu wasn’t special to you anymore. First things first, you had to sort out a few things; your life revolved around the gray-haired spiker. Well, no more.

Pulling out your phone, a text message is sent just a quickly as it is typed out.

y/n [13:25] hey tsumu, I need a partner for the English project. Do it with me or you suck. You were deflecting your emotions with humor, and yet if his face came to mind, you would breakdown right where you stood.

tsum-tsum [13:27] y/n! oh god, where are you????

y/n [13:30] um, home? Where else would I be?

tsum-tsum [13:31] are you okay? I think you should let ‘Samu explain himself. I’m sure he didn’t mean any of that. It was probably all just a lie, just so he didn’t have to answer us.

y/n [13:40] Atsumu I know yer his brother but you don’t have to cover for him like this. He said what he said. We all heard him loud and clear. It’s alright, each to their own ig.

tsum-tsum [13:42] y/n I know what he did is wrong but hes locked himself in his room and he needs to process his feelings. Yer the only one who can talk to him, so please please im begging, help him out.

y/n [13:50] I appreciate the offer but I will have to decline. It’s not often you find out yer being used by someone you love, and you rarely want to see their face after.

tsum-tsum [13:51] love? tsum-tsum [13:51] you actually love him?

y/n [13:52] ah fuck. don’t tell him I said that, I don’t want him to know this now, after he told us how he feels. y/n [13:53] Tsumu? Hello?? y/n [13:53] please don’t do it.

Osamu felt… empty. It was like he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t blink, couldn’t think. He was sat on his bed, staring at his phone. He tried to contact you, but none of his calls went through and his texts were undelivered. Was this how it was going to be? No more midnight conversations, no more spontaneous gifts, no more affection or encouragement? He had never implied that he wanted a relationship with you, then why were you so broken?

He never intended anything romantic… did he?

He was a fucking liar and he knew it. He knew what he was doing when he snuck into your room to spend the night with you. He knew what he does when he puts his arms around you and buries his face in the crook of your neck, seeking comfort. He knew how you felt every time he stood behind you, your breathing slightly faster, a faint blush running down your neck, struggling not to stutter over your words.

Osamu wanted to scream. Everything about you was adorable. When you weren’t with him, it ached. His arms itched to wrap themselves around you, forehead leaning against yours, your lips moving against his ears, telling him that it would be okay when the coach yelled at him; calming him down when Atsumu got on his nerves; making him smile when nothing went his way. You were there, since middle school, and he never got tired of being around you.

You were his as he was yours. And he…

He loved you.

The tears finally came. Messy and fast, moans escaping his lips through the suppressed sound of hiccups, tears welling up and spilling over no matter how hard he tired to wipe them away. The door slammed open and a furious Atsumu grabbed him by his collar. Osamu could barely fight back, much too devasted as the words he said in the gymnasium came echoing back to him. He loathed himself, for saying all that, even as he knew, you were the light in his life.

Atsumu was yelling at him but the words fazed past him. Out of the blue, his face stung, a slap landed squarely on his face. “Yer so stupid, ‘Samu. They loved you. They loved you and this is how you respond?” Only at Osamu’s sobbing calls for you did Atsumu realize that maybe, maybe his brother had finally understood his own emotions. “Are ya- are ya okay?” The blond wrapped an arm around his twin, pulling him in close while the latter wept, for minutes, hours. It was his own fault, for not seeing all the signs and now he had lost you forever. “It’s not forever ‘Samu. Not if you fix it right now. Do you really want to give them up?”

Cries slipped past Osamu’s lips. No, no he didn’t.

The fervent knocks on your door gave way to the shaking figure of Miya Osamu, his hands balled up in fists, head aimed downwards as quiet sobs escaped his mouth. “Y- y/n.” His arm wiped across his face, failing miserably to compose him. “Pl-please talk to me. I can’t stay away from you any longer.”

Merely the sight alone was almost enough for you to reach out to him; almost. “Go away Miya. I would like to retain my dignity, thank you very much.” You reached to swing the door shut, only to be blocked by a trembling arm. There were no words but you could see it in his eyes – something, something had changed. It was saddening, watching the strong, self-confident spiker fall to his knees at your bedroom door, no longer able to hold it open.

You’d tried all your life to pry open the door between the two of you, making every effort to keep you both close, getting along with his friends, cutting off ties with anyone he didn’t deem fit to interact with you. You did it for him – but you were tired; holding the door open this long, it hurt, a deep ache that pulled on your heart strings; binding you to him but at what cost?

“I wish-,” your voice came out quivering, your lips carefully trying to form words around the lump in your throat. Osamu glanced up, gazing at your through watery eyes, hopeful, longing. “I wish you would have told me, before I invested so much of myself. But then again, I should have realized, that when something seems too good to be true, Miya, it usually is.”

He gets up slowly and reaches to you, with shivering fingers, but you step back and his fingers clench into a loose fist, eyes showing emotions that have never graced his face before. Atsumu promised, it’s probably not too late yet. You can still convince them. But behind your stained face, was resignation. You were no longer his. He had lost you, the ground underneath him crumbling away, the thread that you had so carefully woven the only thing connecting the both of you.

A thread, that could not bear anymore weight. Before he could say anything to bring back what you had before, you spoke. “I’m sorry – I’m sorry I wasn’t everything you wanted. But I’m done. My heart is tired of being played with.” You glanced at him with determination clear in your eyes.

“N-no, no please y/n. Let me explain.”

“I think, I think this is goodbye Miya Osamu. I hope you find someone who made the moon seem as beautiful to you, as you did for me.” With that, you gave him a forlorn smile, shutting off the door that connected you to him, snapping any threads surrounding you. Not another word was exchanged ever.

And yet, at that moment, you were tied, sitting on either of your mahogany bedroom door, weeping for someone you would never have.

[furikakyo]

a return to roots | 3

pairing: kita shinsuke x f!reader

summary: y/n is a rising star in the music industry, having almost everything you could have ever hoped for as a small-town country girl. now after releasing two triple platinum albums in consecutive years, you face the dreaded artist’s burnout… in order to recover, your manager suggests, you should return to your hometown in hyōgo for a long-deserved break. 

genre: socmed/smau, slice of life 

warnings/tags: timeskip!, mutual pining, slow burn? more like rekindling, slight canon divergence

masterpost 

You finished sending your texts to Osamu and sat back in your bed, tossing your phone aside and then pulling the covers over your head. As you tugged and curled into your blankets, your phone fell to the wooden floor of your bedroom with a heavy thunk. Cursing, you drew back the covers and reached over the edge of the bed, trying to find balance. All of the blood rushed to your face as you huffed, still attempting to rescue your phone without actually laying foot on the ground.

Once you finally recovered it, you sat back onto your bed with a heave, any sleepiness you had now gone. You stared at the ceiling, wondering what you should do that day. A hand fisted itself into the thick blankets as you tossed and turned, trying to find some comfort in your plush bed. You hadn't been able to sleep well the past couple of days, for whatever reason. Your neck hurt, your back was sore, hell, your entire body ached for some reason, restless and yet so tense at the same time.

You sat up suddenly. What was it Kuroo had said to you? You weren't sure.

"Ugh..." You buried your face into your hands, memories of last night's conversation rushing back to you; remembering how you'd started talking about Kita when you were nodding off. It had been over two years since everything between you went down. Why couldn't you stop thinking about it? You could feel the burn of embarrassment and shame behind your eyes, your throat beginning to close up. Sniffling, you opened your phone and scrolled through your contacts. Who wouldn't be busy? Your hand stilled, and your face brightened, if only for a moment. Kenma. He had a calm and comforting presence, which never failed to mellow you out. Plus, he didn’t really talk about emotions or feelings so he wouldn’t ask you about anything related to Kita, nor would you be tempted to talk about him.

You texted your bodyguard and driver, Ichiro, who agreed to pick you up from your apartment and then drive you to Kenma’s. Thanking him for coming on such a short notice and then reminding him to not text and drive, you got dressed for the day, choosing to wear your comfiest hoodie.

A few minutes later, your phone lit up again with Ichiro’s standard “here” text, and you were out the door, not forgetting to bring a hat and sunglasses with you, though. After locking the door and slipping your accessories on, you rushed into the elevator and then made your way down to the car.

The car ride itself was silent, as Ichiro seemed to have picked up on the mood you were in and decided not to comment. Although he was usually stoic, he always maintained a conversation if you initiated it, his responses albeit short. By now you knew that the brevity in which he spoke was not because of anything against you, however, but because he was naturally a quiet person. You wouldn’t have had anyone else for the job, though.

The car softly jolted you as it pulled to a stop, and you unbuckled quickly after realizing you were already at Kenma’s apartment. “Thanks!” you called out, opening the door yourself and then shutting it. You smiled and waved before Ichiro merged back into traffic, watching the car eventually disappear in the long stream of vehicles.

Feeling somewhat better, you entered the complex after buzzing in. and then made your way to Kenma’s apartment, knocking on the door and patiently waiting. There was a long pause and some shuffling behind the door before it opened a crack. Two large yellow eyes peered out into the hall, and then landed on you. The door shut and then opened without the door chain to stop it this time, and you stepped in.

“I brought my Switch,” you proudly announced, looking to the side of the corridor where Kenma was standing, a little hunched over and slouching. You held up your video game console, which was covered in skins and cute accessories you'd purchased. Some of them you'd gotten for free from Kenma though, who got sent free stuff all the time.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said, a soft smile on his face. He pulled half of his hair back with a hair tie and followed you back to where he streamed his games, settling into the chair that all of his fans could recognize by now. “We can play Minecraft, if you want. I haven't gone on our world for a while, so we could both go on.” Kenma swiveled to look at you inquisitively, waiting for an answer.

You lazily waved a hand at him. “No! Today you’re supposed to stream, right? I just crashed your place so I don’t really have a say. You should record and then if you have time after we can play,” you insisted, sitting on the bean bag behind his gamer chair. “I’ll watch or maybe work on my own world.”

Kenma thought about it for a few seconds, then nodded, setting up his microphone and monitors. “Last chance,” he mumbled, then put his headset over his ears, blocking out everything else. You watched in the background with mild interest as he went through his usual monotonous introduction, one that his fans seemed to adore despite its lack of flair. Perhaps it was exactly that what made him so endearing to the internet. Smiling, you glanced back down to your Switch, and opened up Minecraft.

Setting your phone down for a second after replying to Atsumu, you called out lazily: "Oiiii, Kenma.” After a beat of silence and no response, you called again, "Kenmaaaa."

He had been just finished streaming, and pulled off his headphones. "Hm?"

You sat up excitedly, startling Kenma. "When I move, you should visit! Once I get settled in, at least."

He blinked, looking up at the ceiling as if calculating the pros and cons. "Too many bugs," he finally responded with a small grimace. "And it's gross and hot outside."

At that, you broke out into a laugh, the heartiest and most meaningful you’d had in a while. His particular comment wasn't even that funny, it was just- it was just so him. Was your sense of humor breaking? “Maybe I'll be able to change your mind," you mused. "We can even stream a video collab with the both of us- we should try Animal Crossing!" You clapped excitedly, beaming. "Kenma, let's do Animal Crossing once it comes out!”

He squinted his eyes, scooting away from you and your blinding enthusiasm. "Fine," he muttered, hunched over his phone now. He scrolled for a few minutes before speaking again. "Did you see that we're trending? On Twitter and YouTube." Kenma handed you his phone, stifling a small laugh into the collar of his sweatshirt as he sat back.

"I did," you snickered, laying his phone on the table and lying back on his bean bag chair. "My favorite response is the one about the Kodzuken simps," you said, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively at Kenma and then cackling when he turned completely the other way from you. "Kenma, they're devastated!" You gasped dramatically and then draped an arm over your forehead, fainting.

He rolled his eyes at you, shaking his head. "Shut up, Y/N."

After your giggles died out, you saw him offering a controller to you. "Game night!" you cheered, accepting it and sitting up straighter. "We should get takeout!"

Kenma lifted a brow, as if to say why are you even telling me this? "Already on its way.”

The two of you chatted as you played Minecraft, Kenma being a little more open when his mind was preoccupied with gaming. He was, of course, much better than you, eyes glued to the TV screen which had been hooked up to the game console. "Has Kuroo told you who's going to the Olympics?"

You shook your head, then remembered that Kenma wasn't looking your way. "No," you replied slowly, focused on getting out of the water so you could escape the mobs that were chasing you. "But a few of the boys from Inarizaki are. As for Kuroo, I think he was going to say something, but I fell asleep last night. He said something about you and an advertisement, though?"

Kenma smiled, finally breaking his gaze with the screen and looking at you. "Hinata Shōyō from MSBY is collabing with me, to promote the 2020 Olympic games."

Your eyes lit up in recognition. "That's right! Atsumu is teammates with him. I haven't talked to him one-on-one, though. He seems sweet!"

Kenma turned his attention back to the TV, where he was almost done building a house. "He played volleyball in high school too. They beat Inarizaki his first year at Nationals."

You stopped to think, your hands stilling on the controller. Your breathing slowed. In your third year, Inarizaki hadn't progressed further into Nationals, like everyone predicted. Despite being assistant manager, you hadn't thought it would be a big deal to miss their first match in the competition; assistant managers weren’t even allowed on the actual court anyways. You had all thought you were going to get further. You had thought you would get to see your boys play one last time. You had thought you would get to see Kita lead his team to Nationals, as team captain.

You had missed out on that opportunity for signing a record deal.

Beside you, Kenma noticed how quiet you'd gotten but didn't comment, instead going to the door when the buzzer notified him of their takeout delivery. You picked at a loose string on your hoodie, remembering why you didn't often go to Kenma when in distress. While you knew he cared about you and your wellbeing, you also knew that heart-to-heart conversations weren't his strong suit. When he returned a few moments later with your favorite foods, you pushed down the eruption of guilt and self-loathing with a bright smile. "Sorry, what were we saying? Something about Kuroo..." You strained to keep your eyes crinkled and happy.

Kenma's brow furrowed. "Kuroo-"

You interrupted him, and he let you. "Oh yeah! Kuroo and I are gonna hang out on Thursday! Wanna come? I'm leaving Saturday morning, so unless I see you before then, this will be the last time you see me before I leave for Hyōgo."

You watched his face run through a couple of emotions before settling on contemplation. Kenma blew a wisp of stray hair from his eyes and then begrudgingly: "Sure..."

This time, you gave him a true smile and clapped excitedly. "Yay! Should we try to get some of the others to join us? Lev? I want to be able to say goodbye to all of you in person, if possible." Then, swiping the plastic bag from Kenma, you opened the bag hurriedly and began pulling out things. "Here are the plates... and the chopsticks..." You set everything out and then let him load his plate with food first. Soon after, the two of you were back to playing Minecraft, squabbling over who got to use what equipment. After Kenma finally relented and let you have first pick, the both of you set out to fight the swarms of mobs gathered near your shared house.

"Hey, Y/N."

You had looked away for only a couple seconds, but you were blown up by a Creeper. "BITCH," you screeched, "I just fucking died?!"

Kenma snickered, running past your character and stealing everything you'd left behind. You gasped even louder. "BITCH-"

a/n: i said there weren’t going to be as many words as the last part but 🤡 also currently the fic is moving slowly and going day by day but it’ll pick up the pace soonish

taglist (pm me to ask to be added!): @papiibuprofen​ (i didn’t know if i should just respond to your ask publicly sksksk but i added you) 

some ~fun facts~

- y/n’s bodyguard/driver is named after ichiro, one of my fav baseball players

- his name in y/n’s contacts is “bonecrusher 👹” lmao 

- he is stoic but actually a softie; he’s about 30 and has a wife and one kid, both of whom he loves very much 

- i had kenma and y/n playing animal crossing instead of minecraft at first, then realized that it wouldn’t have been released yet, since this takes place in 2020... DAMN YOU TIMELINE

- do i have a map of hyōgo so i can write this fic? yes 💀

[slashersins-abandoned]

the ones who would smoke

michael myers . big surprise here . big boy likes to get high . however , he prefers editables . if you want to smoke , that’s fine , he won’t take a hit . pass him a brownie . also , be prepared , this man gets lazy and hungry and very touchy . he’s a fucking cuddle monster when he’s high . kind of like a needy kitten who wants pets in the middle of the night and will lay across your face , only to jump off and eat food as loud as they can before coming back for more loving . michael is exactly like that . also , if you want high sex , you’re gonna have to take charge and ride him , he’s just gonna enjoy his high and pleasure while you do the work .

vincent sinclair . it’s one of his favorite ways of relaxing . he’s done it since he was a teen . bo discovered booze , he discovered weed . he’s no less intense when he’s high , still staring at you , still touching you , only his movements are slowed and less delicate . he wants you close , in his lap , against his side . he’ll play metal music in the back ground , letting smoke swirl around the both of you . expect a lot of smoky kisses and long gazes from your man . he’s high as fuck and you’re the only thing important to him right now . a living breathing work of art .

carrie white . carrie ? our sweet girl ? doing the weed ? it’s more likely than you think ! while she might take some convincing , her deep need to rebel against her mother brought on by the courage you give her has this good girl shyly taking a hit . she will cough . give her water and praise and tell her it’s all okay . it happens , you can take it slow . and please do . let the high slowly seep into her skin and lungs and let her feel light and relaxed . she’ll want to cuddle , and you should stroke her hair and just talk . you’ll smoke and talk for hours , never getting so high that you’re both far gone , but getting high enough that everything is slow and hazy . you might even get some shy kisses from your sweet girl , and she’ll giggle and hide in your chest , feeling free for once .

the ones who would rather drink

bo sinclair . everyone knew he’d be on this list . the man drinks so much he should have a beer gut and how he doesn’t is beyond everyone . whether it’s a beer after a days work , a couple after a rough day , or an entire pack after a bitch ass week , this man usually has at least one a day . he likes the buzz he feels . he likes how in some ways he can forget about shit . but mostly he just wants to get fucked up and sleep . while he can be a bastard when sober , he can be one when drunk too , running his mouth . but he also tends to get a little more emotionally open when drunk , so you might end up hearing him say things he will pretend not to remember in the morning .

lester sinclair . another beer drinker in the sinclair home , only he’s a lot more casual about it . he’s like a social drinker , only having two or three . he’s a goofy drunk , stumbling around and laughing and chattering on . vincent and bo find it hard to be upset after a rough week if they have lester over to get drunk . it’s also funny to them that their baby brother is such a light weight . he gets really embarrassed when he does get drunk enough that he’s making a little bit of a fool of himself , but he’s so cute that vincent and bo can only tease him .

thomas hewitt . while this big country boy wouldn’t mind a ice cold beer , he doesn’t drink all that much . maybe once a month or so , sometimes once every two . and he rarely if ever gets drunk . he’s seen charlie / hoyt drunk too many times , and had too many run ins with drunk as fuck bastards when the slaughterhouse was still open . he doesn’t want to be like that , so he keeps himself to no more than two beers at one time . he doesn’t mind the taste of beer , and it really is more of a social “you earned this” type of deal for him .

the ones who would do both

jesse cromeans . this man drinks only the most expensive , oldest scotch , whisky , bourbon , and wine . he drinks casually , he drinks socially . but he does not drink to get drunk . no . he tries his best not to actually . which is surprising to most , as he was considered a bit of a play boy party boy back in his earlier rich boy days . but while he doesn’t get wasted on booze , he does enjoy getting high as fuck . he’ll only do it in the comfort of his own home . relaxing and smoking and watching old videos of his . might jerk off a little , might snuggle up to you . might pull you into his lap and laugh with you as you both watch stupid videos on the internet . one time you laughed at a picture of a blurry paper bag for two hours . jesse won’t leave the house until his high has completely worn off . he doesn’t wanna be caught off his guard .

billy loomis . he’s a bad boy . what can i say ? he’ll drink , he’ll smoke . as long as it’s with you and stu and he’s having fun ? who cares . billy is a messy drunk , getting naked and wanting to bite and kiss over you and stu , even if it doesn’t lead to anything else . it’s just too hot for clothes and he wants his babes close . he’s a munchie having , giggle gremlin when he’s high , however . while its more snickers than giggles he will almost laugh at anything , wanting to be the one cuddled and coddled while he eats chips and shakes with laughter .

stu macher . loud and handsy drunk , however if he drinks too much he gets a bit violent towards others . which is why you and billy know when to cut him off . when he’s just normal drunk , he’s wanting to touch and talk and talk and talk . he won’t know he’s being too loud , just spilling out words and nonsense for fun as he lays across whoever is closer . as a high boy , he’s almost completely quiet . he’ll just lay and stare and watch with his mouth open in awe . sometimes he’ll start giggling but then he’s back to dead eye staring . he’s also gonna be cuddling things that he thinks are you and billy but aren’t . like a pillow . or his cat .

the ones who would never do either

brahms heelshire . this man will only drink sparkling grape juice . he doesn’t have the pallet for booze and he doesn’t like the smell of weed . he has no issue with you drinking , as long as it’s fancy whine , chardonnay , etc . you have to be classy , like mummy and daddy were , if you drink . he might take a sip , but he’ll prefer his juice , thank you .

jason voorhees . he’s highly against all things booze and drug related . he literally kills people who show up on his land , he makes double work of them if they do either of those things . he’s a good boy , momma raised him right . if you do either , he’s conflicted and a bit upset . you’re his special person , you’re good , why are you doing bad things ? if you explain to him that it’s just a small glass with a meal during like , thanksgiving or christmas , he might relent . and if you tell him the weed is for pain and it’s legitimate , he will be less inclined to be upset with you . but still , he doesn’t like it .

bubba sawyer . bubba doesn’t like the way booze and beer make people act . he doesn’t wanna act like that . he got drunk once , and he hated it . it’s the same with weed . he has a strong sense of smell and his little nose hates the way weed smells . which is why he babbles at chop top to call him stinky . if you drink , he might be a bit skittish , thinking you’ll try and hurt him like so many others have . it’ll take a little bit of patience to calm him down , and tell him you’d never . he would like it if you didn’t drink , but if it’s only a little and you aren’t being mean he’s okay . as for the weed , he might pout because now you smell like chop top , but the way you giggle and act is cute . so he doesn’t hate it as much .

jacob goodnight . no . just no . hard no . no drugs . no booze . not you . not him . he just can’t . years of religious abuse have ingrained some roots that are too deep to pull out . and for jacob both of those things are a no .

martin ( 1977 ) . martin doesn’t do either . he already feels off as it is when he hasn’t fed recently . and he has no need for drugs or alcohol . why would he ? besides , he doesn’t want to make any mistakes while intoxicated or high . it’s just that simple . he’ll say no politely if offered . if you drink or smoke he might make a mild complaint about how you don’t need those things , about how it makes you taste off and he likes it when you taste like you . the only drugs you should have inside of you are the ones martin gives you to sleep .

[cacoetheswriting]

champagne problems, ch.3

Spencer is in love with you, but you’re engaged to someone else.

Chapter Three: When I’m Over You: Spencer’s desperate attempt to move on from you doesn't quite go as planned. A/N: chapter titled after this song if you want to listen while reading. Word Count: 1.7k Warnings: mild cursing, heartbreak, unrequited / unreciprocated love, very angsty, jealousy, this series is a real slow burn babyyy

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A/N: omg thank you for the kind kind feedback to the last chapter! i’d love to reply to you all under each chapter but unfortunately this is not my main account.. but i am so glad you like the series so far, it genuinely it means a lot to me!! 

-

A large window exposed the handsome brunette gentleman not only the restaurant goers, but also the world outside. Any average passerby could detect that he was nervous. Leg shaking underneath the table. Fingers tapping the surface. Quick glances between the watch on his wrist, and the entrance of the restaurant. 

Table for two yet he currently sat alone, most likely waiting for someone. A date. 

Yes, Spencer decided it was time to put himself out there once again. To really try and get over you. Unfortunately, he couldn’t ask his friends for advise on how to go about moving on because they would instantly figure out it had something to do with you. So instead he was forced to turn to a source he usually tried to stray from - the internet.

After hours of browsing Spencer decided majority of the tips were, for lack of a better word, shitty and didn't really apply to his situation. Don't torture yourself. Purge your pictures. No contact rule. Allow some fantasising. Visualise your future. 

He was about to give up when one word caught his eye. Rebound. Although the concept seemed cruel at first, it was quite frankly the only viable option. Plus from conversations he overheard at work between his colleagues there was nothing wrong with a little causal dating.

Fast forward a couple of days and here he was, patiently waiting for his date to arrive. 

Spencer was feeling anxious. He hadn't been out to dinner with a stranger like this in some time. He also couldn't help but wonder whether this would actually work.  

Back when you and Ethan first got together, the brunette doctor did go out a few times. Dinners, drinks, coffee meet-ups, museum outings etc., nothing worked as effectively as he had hoped it would. Honestly, it didn't work at all.

Although, to be fair, Spencer didn't try as hard as he could have. He deliberately picked people he knew he wouldn't hit it off with. Self-sabotage. Majority of the dates he went on were cut short by him, and the ones that made it to the end... Well, there was rarely a second and never a third.

The brunette agent looked in the direction of the door once again. For a brief moment he considered walking out, texting his date to cancel - ‘Something came up. Can we reschedule?’. No harm, no foul. 

He should have done that. He should have, but he didn't. Instead the person he was supposed to meet did. And as his phone buzzed on the table, an apology message illuminating the screen, Spencer’s eyes found themselves focusing instead on the last person he wanted to see right now. 

You.

The air caught in his throat. His instincts told him to duck his head down yet he found himself unable to move. Eyes fixated on you. Wondering why you were here. Wondering whether you were alone. Wondering whether perhaps he should try and get your attention. 

You noticed him just as you were about to leave. A kindhearted smile spread on your face the second your gaze landed on him, and Spencer waved awkwardly from his seat. Without hesitation, you made your way toward him. 

“Fancy seeing you here doctor.” You said warmly. 

Spencer cleared his throat. “You too.” He responded, nervously smiling back at you. “What are you doing here Y/N?”

You directed his focus to a rather large paper gift bag you were holding. “Just collecting some things that were left behind after our engagement party.” 

The brunette agent facepalmed himself mentally. Of course. How could he be so stupid to overlook that this was the same restaurant as your party. 

“How about you? Are you waiting on someone?” You asked, glancing briefly at the empty seat across from him. Spencer nodded slowly. “I was yes, but they just cancelled.” “Oh, I’m sorry.” An apologetic look graced your features but the brunette doctor shook his head. “Don’t be.”

You glanced at the seat once again before lifting your hand over your shoulder and pointing back to the exit. “Well, I should go. I have a bottle of wine at home with my name on it but I will see you bright and early on Monday doctor.” 

Shooting him one last warm smile, you turned around and were about to walk away when he grabbed your attention one more time. 

“Would you like to join me?” Spencer asked causing you to spin back on your heel to look at him again. “I’ve been sitting here for the last twenty minutes, holding up the table, so I kind of feel bad leaving without ordering anything.” He explained. 

“Only if you promise we split the bill evenly in half.” You grinned as Spencer chuckled. “Fine, I promise.” He responded. Satisfied with his answer, you placed the paper bag next to table before taking off your jacket. The brunette doctor sprung to his feet and took the garment from you. He walked up to the nearest coat hanger as you made yourself comfortable in the empty seat.

“Where is Ethan tonight?” Spencer asked sitting back down. He signalled the waiter to bring over the menus. “I don't want to be keeping you if he’s waiting at home.” He said, even though it was a lie. 

“Ethan is working.” You replied, a sad tone to your voice that Spencer detected instantly. “Which is why I’m glad you asked me to stay because otherwise my dinner would consist of frozen pizza.” You added. “Don’t forget the bottle of wine that has your name on it.” Spencer jokingly reminded and you couldn't help but let out a soft giggle.

The waiter appeared shortly after. They handed you each a menu and asked whether you would like something to drink in the meantime. Since you had to drive home later, you only asked for water. Not wanting to drink alone, mainly in fear he would blab the reason he was really here in the first place, Spencer did the same. 

Soon enough the two of you were lost in a naturally flowing conversation. Each of you took turns filling every breath with more interesting topics. It wasn’t strange since Spencer and you never particularly had any difficulties in that area. 

You placed your orders briskly, eager to return to whatever it was that you were talking about. Even when the food arrived, if one of you paused to take a bite the other would jump in and start rambling off. It was nice to say the least. 

“Can I ask you something Spencer?” You enquired while finishing your meal and placing the cutlery on top of your empty plate. “Anything.” Spencer replied before taking a sip of his water.

“Do you think I'm making a mistake?”

Spencer wanted to lie and say that you weren't but no matter what way he looked at it, as an ex or as a friend, it just didn't seem fair. Therefore the silence that enveloped around you was answer enough. Slowly, you nodded your head in understanding.

You looked out the large window next to you and let out a quiet sigh. It didn't come as a surprise that Spencer felt this way. It hurt just a little however, mainly because you couldn't bring yourself to admit that sometimes you felt the same way. That there were nights you lay awake thinking that you should have said no. 

You loved Ethan, and he loved you. He made you laugh, he cared for you. If one day you’d have kids you knew that he would make a great father and that your children would get everything they could ever dream of; they wouldn't even have to ask. All of that should be enough to want to spend the rest of your life with him. But there were days, moments, where you couldn't help but feel like something important was missing. 

“Y/N...” Spencer’s voice brought you back to reality. You looked back at him. Meeting his inviting gaze, you pursed your lips into a gentle smile. 

The brunette doctor leaned forward. “Do you remember that case we worked in Missoula a few years back?” He asked, changing the subject. 

Before he got a chance to elaborate you cut in politely, knowing exactly which case he was talking about. “Of course I remember doctor. It was my first case with the team.” You said, fondly remembering the memory.

“Hotch asked you to play Prince Charming to the unsub, which looking back at it now makes a lot of sense to me. You do have a lot of Prince Charming qualities.” Spencer smirked softly at your comment. “I have Prince Charming qualities?” He raised a curious brow.

“Are you kidding me? Charisma, smarts, kind heart. The perfect hair, warm smile, and just overall good looks.” You chimed. The small smile on your face grew a little bigger. “You tick all the boxes my friend. Disney could use you as a blueprint.”

Spencer laughed. “Good to know.” 

The two of you sat there for a second just smiling at one another. 

“Why do you ask though?” You asked reaching for your water; breaking the comfortable silence.

Spencer licked his lips before taking in a quick breath. “You said something to me on the plane back home that I think applies now; ‘Meant to be isn't real. It’s a concept. You can’t know if something is meant to be unless you live through it, therefore you can’t know if something is a mistake unless you give it a go. Fairy tales and happy endings are made only by people that live them.’.” 

Your eyes began to gloss over with tears. Trying to fight back the floods, you chewed down on your bottom lip and swallowed your breath. You couldn't believe he remembered. Yes, he has an eidetic memory but you couldn't believe he remembered.

“You will get your happy ending Y/N.” Spencer stated confidently. “I know you will.” 

“Thank you.” You whispered loud enough for him to hear. 

Slowly, you wiped your cheeks for any tears that escaped your eyes and smiled kindly. “How is it that you always know exactly what to say doctor?”

“Years of practice as a profiler.” He answered. “Plus having an eidetic memory helps.” He joked, shrugging his shoulders.

You giggled, your eyes once again locking with his. This time however there was a sort of shyness surrounding it. When your heart skipped a beat, when the palms of your hands began to sweat, when you couldn't bring yourself to look away, well, that should have been an indication that you were in trouble.

And while you played off the warning signs as nothing more than a friendship bond, Spencer realised that any efforts to ‘find a rebound’ would be wasteful. 

There was no-one on this planet that would come remotely close to you. 

Someday, someday Some way, some way When I'm over you

-

A/N: hello friends! i hope you liked the third chapter!! i’d love to hear your feedback and what you think will happen next! if you would like to be added to a taglist, please let me know. thank you for your continuous support. with love, mal. x

story taglist: @girloncorneliastreet, @haylaansmi, @rexorangecouny, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @aperrywilliams, @sassy-hades, @rainsong01​, @reverdevivre​, @dracomikaelson, @softieekayy​, @lunaofcrows

spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no​, @calm-and-doctor​

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