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spencersawkward · 4 years ago

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*concussions and confessions//spencer reid*

summary: a near-death experience encourages Spencer to admit his feelings for his best friend, even at the risk of ruining their relationship.

pairing: Fem!Reader/Spencer

content warnings: oh boy there’s a lot. i’ll start with the nonsexual ones-- choking (again, not sexual), blunt force, violence, some angst. ok time for the fun ones-- unprotected penetrative sex, masturbation, sex dream, oral (male receiving), slight dirty talk, creampie. lmk if there are more that i missed!

word count: 5.4k

A/N: hi omg so i actually combined two requests for this bc i loved the concepts and i didn't wanna do one and not the other. i hope i do both of these justice hehe thanks for sending them! also sorry if the unsub scene sucks-- i don’t usually write that way, so i tried my best.

request(s): omg if you need ideas for baby spence can you do a one shot where he's the girls best friend (she's not in the bau) and they are in love but neither of them admit it and he is really hurt in a case or almost dies or something traumatic and only when he gets back they confess their love... and then have sex 😏 ive been thinking about this concept alot 😌

can’t stop thinking about baby spencer (like s2-s4) & his girl best friend losing their virginity to each other... can you write a one shot on this please?

masterlist

"when are you coming back?" you ask over the line. you're lying on your bed, legs in the air while you talk to your best friend. it's been a long day for you, but a longer day for him. it's always a longer day for him.

"you know that I don't know the answer to that question." Spencer's voice is soft as he attempts to keep quiet. he's two hours ahead and, despite the fact that you're both night owls, the person he's rooming with tonight isn't.

"I know, but there's this Korean film festival that starts tomorrow and I was hoping you would be here to translate for me." you examine your nails while you talk. Spencer lets out a disappointed sigh.

it's only been a few days since he left, but it's been a week since you last saw him and it feels like a long time. whenever he's not at work, you two are joined at the hip. ever since you first met a few years back at a poetry convention in DC, it feels like he's the only person who understands you. which is weird, because you couldn't be more different as individuals.

"you should bring one of your other friends."

"bold of you to assume I have other friends." you joke. Spencer chuckles to himself and your heart flutters. you love his laugh more than anything in the world.

"I thought that was just me." he says.

"oh, it is just you," you reply flatly. "I was trying to make you feel better."

you can practically feel Spencer smiling through the phone. although you tease him pretty frequently, he's sometimes able to get in his own shots. it's what makes your friendship interesting.

"hey," you add before he can say anything more. "how's the case going?"

Spence starts to detail the whole thing, and you listen intently, the timbre and smoothness of his voice comforting you as you slip beneath the covers of your bed. you like the way he enunciates his words, his strange manner of speaking, because it lulls you to sleep.

you know he's talking about horrible things, but something about the sound comforts you deeply. when he's not around, you're wishing you had it bottled up.

he lays out their profile as it stands, and you fall silent. it's getting pretty late and you have to be up early for work tomorrow, so it would be a good idea to get some real rest. plus, Spencer needs to sleep, too-- even though he probably won't.

you remember times when he'd call you at three in the morning, his mind whirring as he played chess against himself and asked if you wanted to hang out so he could teach you how. you hate chess, but of course you said yes; you'd been head over heels with him since your first conversation.

eventually, you feel yourself start to drift off. you don't even really know what he's saying; all of it blends together until you're laying there, one cheek pressed to the pillow and the receiver against the other.

"Y/N?" he says your name abruptly and your eyes, which have been slowly drawing shut this whole time, fly open.

"yeah?"

"go to bed."

"what? no, I'll wait until you're done." you shift.

"I could hear your breathing change."

"then why didn't you just hang up?" you giggle. he goes silent for a moment and you wonder if he cut out, but then he responds.

"I wanted to say goodnight."

it's like a cage of butterflies is unleashed in your stomach. you wrinkle your nose as you get nervous. god, you miss him. things would be so much better if he was back. not like he'd be in your bed even if he was, though.

"then say goodnight." you prod. he lets out an awkward little sound.

"now I can't because you made it weird."

"how did I make it weird?"

"I don't know, you just did." he's so clumsy, your face heats up. you want to keep talking like this until morning.

"goodnight, Spence," the words sound reluctant, but you try to cover it up by teasing him further. "see, was that so bad?"

"oh my god, Y/N--" he tries to sound exasperated.

"no goodnight back?" you raise an eyebrow even though he can't see you right now.

a lengthy silence again. "goodnight."

"that's what I thought." before he can protest, you end the call, settle into the covers. moonlight beams on the walls of your apartment, and you start to think about your best friend. about all the nights spent curled up on his couch with two bowls of popcorn, his ramblings about how much he loves his job and him asking about yours.

he's a great listener. every time you talk, he nods along like he's hanging off every word. it's nice to feel heard that way, to have someone care. and he's fun to hang out with, too. you've met his team before and they all talk about how hard it is to get him to go out, but they don't see the same side of him that you do.

Spencer is nerdy and cute and kind and sensitive. he makes you feel special. he's everything that you've ever wanted in a person. but it's not like it would matter, anyway. he hasn't really shown interest in any girls-- much less you. even if he did, you're scared of ruining the friendship.

the fallout of not having him around at all... it would destroy you. and something, even if it's torturous, is better than nothing.

which is why, as you sit there and remember being around him, your fingertips creep below the comforter. a familiar routine, they move over your stomach, until they reach the waistband of your panties. for a moment, you hesitate. it's wrong. he's your best friend. but he doesn't need to know that this is how you handle the ache he puts between your legs.

as your index finger slides down your slit, you feel the wetness already forming. Spencer's hands, his mouth. the thought of his lips pressed to yours while he fucks you, holding your body like it's delicate.

you don't know exactly how it would feel because you've never had sex, but you want to find out with him. he's never done it, either. you don't care; all you need is to have him inside of you, to see how he looks when he's on the edge.

your mind wanders to the image of him parting your legs and rolling his eyes into the back of his head. the sensation of him filling you up. falling apart.

you slide a finger inside, gasping at the way your walls tighten and your imagination runs wild. that tongue, lapping and making you squirm, your fingers twisted in his soft hair. he's so sweet; his attentiveness would make your legs shake. you want to look into his eyes while he does it.

you add a second finger, curl them and brush over the most sensitive part. the pressure of his hips grinding into yours. your body curves up at the way you start to finger yourself, the other hand stimulating your clit. it's almost overwhelming, the way his name tumbles from your lips over and over.

you've never wanted someone so badly in your life; he belongs in your bloodstream. the sounds he would make in your ear before finally cumming and collapsing on top of you, spent. you want to tire him out and then do it all over again.

you're greedy on the edge, indulging in every single image of him you can conjure up, every dirty thing you'd say. finally, you feel yourself fall, the orgasm intense as you bite back groans of pleasure and work through the high. it's amazing.

you sit there, panting, feeling your heart beat in your chest. some things can't leave your head, they're so sinful. and the worst part is that you don't regret it in the slightest.

...

Spencer can feel his pulse practically leaping against his throat as he makes his way through the empty warehouse. he should have waited for backup; he knows he should have, but it's too late now to go back and change things.

he clutches his gun, pointing it in front of him while his eyes flicker wildly across the space. he's moving between enormous aisles stuffed with crates, not knowing who else is around. they said the unsub brought his newest victim here-- Spencer came first because was closest to the site-- but he hears nothing aside from the uneven rhythm of his own breath.

every step is careful. he's thinking about how close the rest of the team must be. based on their distance from the station, they should arrive within six minutes-- but that doesn't account for the time it takes to put on their bulletproof vests, to get to their cars.

truthfully, he doesn't know if he's going to have to do this on his own. and that scares him the most.

there's no point in worrying. he swallows the lump in his throat and presses his back to one of the crates. there's a scraping noise a ways off that causes him to freeze. because of the echoes of the warehouse, the origin is indiscernible. he doesn't breathe, eyes darting between each of the openings into the aisle.

after a minute of pure silence, he peels himself away and turns to head back out.

and that's when the sound of wood cracking against bone startles him; he hears it before he feels it, but it's obvious when he crumples to the floor. like knife points pressing into his brain at all angles, the shooting agony in his skull.

he starts to clutch at his head, only to be yanked off the ground by a meaty hand and thrown against the side of a crate.

"fucking feds." the guy is enormous. gargantuan. he keeps his arm across Reid's throat, pressing down enough to restrict his airway. but Spencer can't even concentrate on the guy's face further than its rough outlines. his vision is going in and out, fuzzy at the edges from the blow to his head.

he definitely has a concussion.

"I..." he trails off. the huge FBI logo on his vest is a dead giveaway.

"all alone?" the unsub has breath like rotten fish, spits each word into his face. "I won't even need my gun."

Spencer's head lolls to the side and he catches sight of his own weapon lying helplessly a few feet away. there's no way he could get to it in time, even if he got out of this guy's chokehold.

he tries to think of a way to talk himself out of this; after all, their profile said he'd be more susceptible to negotiation, but that's kind of hard to do with someone's forearm slammed against your trachea. he presses harder and Spencer sees stars. his glasses hang almost off the bridge of his nose, centimeters from falling to the floor.

he starts to realize that he's going to die, defenseless and alone, in a warehouse. at the hands of a man who kills women because his Viagra doesn't work. but this doesn't incite the kind of panic Spencer always predicted he'd feel. the lack of oxygen in his brain causes him to go delirious.

he misses home. his mom and his old house, even though things were hard. he misses Y/N, his team members. he wishes his team was here; he should have waited for them. he should have told Y/N how he feels. now she's never going to know.

Reid is so out of it, he doesn't even notice the pressure being relieved from his throat until he collapses on the ground. the unsub falls, too, his cheek smashed by the force of the abandoned wooden plank.

it's hard to tell what's happening until Reid lifts his head to see Morgan standing above him, preparing to handcuff the criminal.

"kid," Spencer never thought he'd be so glad to hear his voice. "what happened?"

...

you practically crash into Spencer's apartment the next evening, flinging your body through the front door with your spare key.

"Spence?" you call out from the entryway. everything still looks the same, but when his colleague, Penelope, called you today to tell you that Reid had gotten a concussion after a run-in with an unsub, you rushed here as soon as you could.

"in here." he calls from his bedroom. you don't hesitate, your feet carrying you there. you've been anxious all day; he didn't call last night or even text like usual. you were on the verge of panicking when Penelope called.

of course, you knew that was the risk with Spencer. he knew the risk, too. his life would always be in the balance when it came to the cases, but he'd gone through so many at this point, you weren't thinking about it. if you did, you wouldn't be able to focus on anything else.

when you walk in, the first thing you see is Spencer laying in bed in his silk pjs. there's a stack of unread books on his bedside table. his glasses sit on top. he's just laying there with his eyes closed.

"oh my god." you mutter, dropping your bag on the floor and walking over. he opens his eyes with a slight smile. there's a purple bruise forming across his throat, light but definitely there.

"hi."

"what the fuck happened?" you ask the question you've been wondering the whole way here.

"he hit me with a plank." Spencer explains, the phrase coming out like he's still confused about it. "I'm fine, just a mild concussion and a bruise because he choked me."

you take a second to assess if he actually means that he's okay, or if he's trying not to worry you. he stares at your expression for a second.

"Y/N, I'm really fine."

"you don't look fine." you gesture to the fact that he's laying in bed.

"my body is sore, but nothing's wrong with me. I just can't look at screens or read." this last part makes him much more melancholy, it seems. you reach down and ruffle his hair playfully.

"sounds like a nightmare."

"it is." he cracks up.

"I'm glad you're okay." you sigh. your heart rate has slowed to a reasonable pace now that you know he's fine. Spencer gives a ghost of a smile, and when he pats the empty spot on the bed beside him, you kick off your shoes and climb over his body to sit down. "so... did you guys get him?"

"the unsub?" he turns his head to look at you. something is in his eyes that you can't read. "yeah, he's in custody. we saved the girl he abducted, too."

"well, aren't you a hero?" you grin, pinching his arm.

"ow!" he flinches. "don't hurt the patient."

"oh, so now you're injured?" you giggle softly. his smile fades a bit, gaze trailing from your face to your legs. it isn't lustful or anything, more like he's taking in your existence. it still makes your heart flutter.

"I wasn't really a hero, anyway," he sighs. "I got knocked down before I even found her."

"oof." you wince.

"yeah, it's sort of embarrassing. I went in by myself and--"

"you went by yourself?" you clarify, turning to face him. of course he did.

"yeah." he avoids your gaze.

"Spencer, I work in a stationery shop and I know you're supposed to wait for backup." you deadpan. he snorts, staring straight ahead at the wall. his hair is flat in the back from where he's been resting it against the headboard.

"he would have hurt her if I had waited." he explains. your heart softens a bit at this. you know Spencer has a problem with saving people; sometimes he doesn't think things through. but you know that it's only because he cares.

you smile gently, appreciating what a beautiful person he is. you don't understand how other people don't see him how you do. your hand reaches for his suddenly, and you find yourself snuggling into his shoulder.

Spencer doesn't usually like touch, but he welcomes this, dropping his own head to rest on top of yours while you both stare at the wall. his silence feels heavy, more than it usually does, and you wonder what he's thinking.

"I'm really glad you're okay, Spencer." your tone is low, like it's a secret.

"you already said that."

"shut up."

"you care about me." he sing-songs with a smile, and you know he means it in a friendly way, but you don't care. it brings warmth to your cheeks.

"whatever. you care about me, too."

he lets out a slight chuckle. "when I started to black out, I thought of you."

your heart leaps, even though the reason is pretty dark. "oh, yeah?"

"mhmm." he hums.

"nobody's ever told me that they thought of me in their last moments of life before." you tease. there are so many things you'd like to say, but know you can't. he smells like himself and coffee beans, his skin warm beneath the silk of his pajamas.

"I'd hope not."

"anything in particular?" you wonder aloud.

"what?" you feel him tense beneath you, and that's how you know there's something he's not telling you.

"were you thinking about anything in particular?"

"someone's full of themselves." he jokes. you smack his arm.

"humor me." more than anything, you want to hear his thoughts. you know you're reaching, but you don't care.

"just..." he pauses, the next words coming out almost too quietly to hear. "things I never got to say to you."

"like?" now you're intrigued.

"no way." he laughs and you groan, turning and realizing that you've both sunk deeper onto the bed and are now practically lying down.

"c'mon," you prod. you've flipped onto your side while you watch him, his eyes directed at the ceiling. "what if you'd actually died?"

Spencer gives you a look, and you wish you could snap a picture of his face. the gentle features, the warmth in his eyes. he stares at you differently than before, and it makes your stomach flip again. "I, um."

you start to trace your index absently down his forearm, where his sleeve has incidentally gotten rolled up. his skin is soft. you know that this isn't a friendly thing to do, but something inside you craves his touch right now. you almost lost him; you can't imagine how horrible that would be.

"I wanted to say that I--" he gulps, muscles in his shoulder tight beneath your cheek. "well, I care about you, and I... I really love you."

it's not the first time he's said it, obviously in a platonic sense. what affects you is that he's acting like it's a big deal.

"I love you too, Spence." you smile softly. his chest rises and falls faster, his face tensed.

"no, I mean--" he turns onto his side, using the action to distract from his own nervousness. he holds your gaze and you forget how to breathe as he speaks. every syllable is serious, but you note his fingers fidgeting at his side. "I'm in love with you."

it's like all the air in the room has been sucked out. you swallow, unsure of how to react at first. you don't believe what you're hearing, simply because it doesn't make sense. you've been friends for a while, now, but Spencer has never made a move to ask you out or acted like he wanted anything more.

your heart swells.

"you're in love with me?" the words even feel surreal on your tongue. he takes it as rejection.

"I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry." Spencer rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, his expression turning to a cringe. he's about to sit up to hide the red in his cheeks, but you pull him back down by the shoulder.

"not so fast, crazy boy." the corners of your mouth are turning up into a grin. you can't help it; every nerve in your body is alive. Spencer loves you. he feels the same way.

when he sinks back down onto the mattress and sighs, preparing to say something that rescinds the statement to erase any awkwardness, you grab his face and turn it to yours. you don't kiss him, only force him to look.

"I'm in love with you, too."

his eyebrows fly up in surprise. "r-really?"

"yes." you nod.

he takes a second to process this. you see about five different expressions pass over his face, each one reminding you of how earnest he is. and it's absolutely adorable.

"well, that's good, isn't it?" he clarifies. you pretend to think on it.

"I'd say so, yeah."

he smiles. a genuine, rare one that makes your veins feel as if they're full of glitter. you're on Cloud 9.

"can I kiss you?" you ask him quietly. he seems surprised at this, too, like he never thought you'd want that, but then nods eagerly.

you close the gap between you on the bed, holding his jaw in one hand while the other rests on his forearm. your lips meet softly at first. he's cautious, scared of pushing you away. he hasn't kissed many people before. but he's good at it, letting you take the lead.

there's no way to adequately describe kissing Spencer. every bone in your body turns to mush, immediately craving more contact. you slide your tongue across his full bottom lip, and he lets you in. his affection is the most loved you've ever felt. because sure, you haven't had sex, but you've kissed people before.

never like this.

one of his hands goes up to wrap around your forearm tenderly before he shifts to lie on his side. you wrap around each other, turning the kiss into a full-body embrace as you breathe in. you want more. your leg swings over his torso so you can pull yourself closer, and he groans into your mouth when your pelvis presses against his.

the kiss gets more heated, his hands carefully but hungrily traveling down the curve of your waist. you flip so that you're straddling him without breaking any contact.

you don't really think about the way your hips begin to rock against his, your pussy involuntarily working for friction. there are so many happy chemicals in your brain right now, you giggle against his mouth when his body bucks up into yours. he groans.

"Y/N..." he breathes softly. his hands move from your waist to your thighs, afraid to dig his fingertips in.

"what?" you sigh, licking over his bottom lip again. he moans at the way you keep grinding on his erection.

"I wanna--" his eyelashes flutter when he gasps. "I wanna touch you."

"do it." your palm is resting tenderly against his cheek. he responds by finally holding you down, sliding his body up a bit to grind against your center. you whine. "touch whatever you want, Spencer."

his cock twitches in his pants and you push the hem of his shirt up while he uses one hand to massage your tits. the voracious, curious nature of his attention makes you sigh, touching his stomach. he feels perfect beneath you.

soon you're grabbing at each other without any regard for grace. he's so horny, he's pawing at whatever he can while you do the same to him. the kissing gives way to straight panting while you look at each other.

"can I suck your dick?" you whisper. Spencer's eyes widen. you've never seen him nod so fast.

you press your mouth to his one more time before inching down his body, sucking on his clavicle, then his stomach. careful to avoid the purple marks on his neck. he watches you intently, memorizing the details of this moment for later. when you reach the waistband of his pants, you peek up. he strains against the material.

your mouth drops open and you draw your tongue over the clothed bulge, maintaining eye contact. Spencer throws his head back. his voice is high. "oh my god, oh my god."

you smirk, licking it again. he clenches his jaw. "I'm gonna c-cum if you don't--" he tries for words, but he's mewling and moving against your mouth. you pull at his pants, hooking your fingers in his boxers and bringing them down, too.

Spencer bucks into the air when his cock hits his stomach. it's big, precum leaking helplessly out of the tip while he whines. you want him now.

"wow." you smile. he stares at you, tensing his stomach as you wrap your hand around his length. he's trying to keep quiet, but as soon as you spit on it and start to pump him, his head falls back into the pillow.

you draw your tongue up the underside, paying special attention to the veins, reveling in his reactions. he looks like he's ascending to heaven when you start to suck on the first couple inches.

"o-oh, fuck..." he keeps moving his hips off the bed for more, so you sink down further onto him, hollowing your cheeks and moaning. "Y/N..."

you groan in response, feeling yourself get wetter with every sound he makes. you can't believe this is happening, the way he threads his fingers loosely through your hair in an attempt to touch more of you.

he tries to keep his eyes open while you suck, but they squint with pleasure. he's a mess for you, shuddering gently when you take nearly all of him into your mouth.

before he can cum, you pull your mouth off of him with a satisfying pop. Spencer moans.

"was that okay?" you ask carefully. this is the extent of your sexual experience, and you want to do more with him, but you aren't sure how he feels. your best friend stares back at you like you've turned his world upside down.

"y-yeah," he replies. his face is flushed. "definitely okay."

he's throbbing, occasionally twitching against his stomach as he waits for more stimulation. you eye him carefully.

"what do you feel comfortable doing?" your voice is smooth. "we can stop now, if you'd like."

"I--" he chokes on the word. "I don't wanna stop."

"do you want to have sex?" you ask. Spencer bites his lip, whines.

"mhmm."

"I wanna do that, too," you breathe out, straightening up and pulling your shirt over your head, unclasping your bra, before getting to work on your shorts. you know you're practically dripping. he's been more vocal, but you feel like you're going to implode from the desire. "but I need to tell you something."

"what?" he tugs your arm, coaxing you back to him and touching you greedily. you giggle as you kick your shorts and panties off somewhere in the room. both of you move like awkward teenagers.

"I'm a virgin." you say.

Spencer frowns. "really?"

"yeah," you lick your lips. "so you need to be careful."

"o-of course." he blushes, getting nervous again. "you know I'm a virgin too, right?"

"I know." you smile. he returns it sweetly, and the commotion of your bodies slows for a moment. you're so happy, you could cry.

"what?" he breaks the comfortable silence.

"I'm excited," you shrug. he's got his hands on your waist, rubbing his fingertips over your skin. then you remember something. "wait, are you allowed to have sex with your... injury?"

"it's fine." he reaches up and kisses your throat with an urgency.

"did the doctor say that?" your eyes roll while he sucks on your neck. he groans and pulls down on your waist so that your stomach presses against his cock. he ruts.

"second opinion from me." he pants. you tap his cheek playfully, move up his body until your core brushes him. he whimpers when you reach between your bodies and grip his length in your hands.

"you ready?" your voice is low. Spencer squeezes your thighs, eyes moving between your tits and your face.

"yes." he sighs. you position it, slicking him in your pussy while he wraps an arm around your waist and moans for more. your chests are pressed together, looking into each other's eyes while you slide him into you.

you have to go slow, the intrusion causing your jaw to drop. you don't breathe. he's got his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

"Spencer." you whimper, dropping your head onto his chest when he's fully inside of you. his fingers rub patiently over your back.

"are you okay?" his voice is laced with a moan, trying to resist thrusting.

"yeah, just a second." you wiggle a little bit to test the boundaries. it hurts, but it also feels good. your clit is begging for more pressure, so you start to roll your hips. Reid moans loudly.

"Y/N..." he whimpers. "don't stop."

"you want more?" the need in his voice makes you hornier, and you increase the pace, despite the slight pain. you're so wet, he slides in and out without much effort.

"so-- much more." he's gasping, hands on your thighs as he watches your naked body writhe on top of him. he's never been more aroused in his life, spurred on by your scent and form and the tightness that keeps clenching around his cock.

he understands why people love sex so much, now. he wants it every day, wants to fuck you in every position and pleasure you. the sounds you release in his ear, whines and praises, he would do anything for more. walk to the ends of the earth to feel you cum on his cock.

his hand finds your ass, squeezes it.

"this feel good, Spence? fucking your best friend?" you talk dirty and he twitches. you're always so sweet, the words coming out of your mouth for him are going to send the genius into a tailspin.

"mhmm," he holds you down so that he can thrust up. speaking at all is a struggle with the way he's feeling. "perfect."

you start to say something else, but he hits a certain angle and you let out a quiet yelp, hips jumping at the pleasure. "I'm gonna cum."

Spencer gets a rush of relief because it's taking everything in him right now not to absolutely lose it inside your pussy. he's hanging on by a thread. "me, too."

you use your position on top to stimulate yourself. both of you chase your orgasms roughly, the rhythm you created degenerating into clawing excitement.

"cum inside me, Spencer." you beg him. it sounds like you would do anything to feel it, that sensation that you've never experience but have always imagined. and Spencer, his own head foggy with ecstasy, nods and opens his mouth to let out a loud groan.

"Y/N, fuck fuck fuck-- I'm--" he shoots his load inside of you, rutting wildly and letting his head drop onto the pillow while he pants. you can feel it. strange, lovely jolts of his seed spreading. your hands, which have been resting on his shoulders, tighten and you reach your climax. you flutter around him, both of you still moving to ease the intensity of the high.

it's remarkable. you're crying out, having the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life. you never thought your first time would be like this. but you're glad it is, muscles tightening and releasing with the mixture of emotions.

you collapse fully, him still inside.

neither of you speaks. his heartbeat thuds against your ear, and you hold onto him like letting go would be the end of the world. you can't believe you could have lost him. you don't want to think about it.

"sorry I came so fast." Spencer apologizes breathlessly. you can feel his cum dripping down your entrance when he slides out.

"I don't care." you mumble. both of you stay there for a while, his heartbeat changing to a pace that reminds you of genuine excitement. like a hummingbird.

"we can try again, sometime." he offers. you lift your head to rest your chin on his chest. his skin is flushed, pupils dilated, hair messy. such a pretty boy.

"we should try multiple times."

he gives you a cheerful smile, and everything starts to fall into place. you took each other's virginity. "Y/N?"

he likes to say your name, and you love to hear it. "yes?"

"are we dating?" the bluntness of the question makes you giggle. you don't hesitate.

"yeah."

“good.”

taglist (lmk if you wanna be added/removed!): @reidsconverse @voidsfilm @xoxomgg

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #baby spence #mgg #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #matthew gray gubler

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seokjinsdisciple · 3 years ago

Text

forbidden fruit - part one

mark x reader (literally all smut and completely self-indulgent)

mark is the epitome of innocence. pastor’s son and good christian boy. can he be tempted by the forbidden fruit?

UNEDITED

if you see this and you know me. inreal life, no you didn’t

word count: 3.8k (blame red wine me)

warnings: language, fingering, choking kinda? (mark chokes himself), mutual masturbation, mommy kink, handjob, sub mark, blowjob, mentions of virginity and religion, uh wet dreams, sex toys, probably more lmk what i missed

You had met Mark 3 years ago in your church’s youth group. You never really liked church if you were honest, finding the whole thing rather stupid. However, Mark made coming to church very worth it. He was your age, the pastor’s son and probably the most handsome boy in your small town.

You spent your high school years pining after the boy. Your hormones were out of control and associating all horniness with his face. A real problem when you had to spend hours with him at church.

You ran into him one day on your campus your freshman year, his face lighting up as the two of you made small talk. You talked pretty regularly after that, becoming closer than you had been before, and when the two of you moved in together you thought all of your wet dreams were about to come true.

At least until Mark drunkenly confessed to you one night that he was “like totally a virgin, dude.”

The two of you were giggling messes, too many bottles of empty soju surrounding where you sat on the floor. Mark’s cheeks were deep red seconds after the words came out of his mouth.

“Yo, I can’t believe I just said that, omg,” he said, hands covering his face as his ears reddened.

“It’s ok, Mark,” you giggled, pulling his hands off of his face, “I kinda figured you were.”

You hadn’t, but you didn’t want him to feel embarrassed, and you certainly didn’t want him to stop talking about it.

“Really?” he asked, a hopeful look on his face, “are you too?”

“No,” you giggled, hands covering your own face now, Mark’s whine ringing out in your mostly empty living room.

“This-uh,” Mark whispered, “Sorry if this is uh- a weird question and you totally don't have to answer if you don't want to dude, but what did it feel like?”

So you told him, you answered every question he had that night. And when the two of you drunkenly parted ways, it was with a stickiness between your legs and an obvious tent in his pants. And that was the start of your current relationship with Mark.

It had been awkward at first, after that night. But he had started asking you more and more questions. They started off innocently enough, like what kissing felt like. Yeah, he was that innocent. But the questions started getting more and more sexual, and it was getting harder and harder to control yourself around him.

You found yourself starting off simply at first. Changing what you wore around the house. It began by you wearing shorter and shorter pj bottoms. And then by wearing tops that gradually increased in sheerness, until you started just wearing oversized t-shirts. Losing pieces of underwear as you went.

Yeah, you were trying to seduce him. But who could blame you? Mark was the center of your wet dreams, and he had been so since the start of 8th grade. So who were you to deny his request?

It had been a regular Tuesday, classes attended and dinner shared when a blushing Mark had turned to you on the couch.

“Something has been happening to me,” he confessed, his bright pink cheeks enough to make you soften.

“Are you ok?” you had asked, completely convinced that he had never approached any topic like this before with you.

“It’s just-,” he started, glancing nervously to the clasped hands in his lap, “I’ve been thinking about all the answers you’ve given me about...sex and all that. And well everytime that happens, I get this...heat in my abdomen. And no matter what I can’t make it go away.”

“Mark-,” you breathed out, glancing swiftly down to where, sure enough, there was a tent in his pants, “Are you talking about being horny?”

“I don’t- I don’t know what you mean,” he whispered, flushing an (impossibly) deeper shade of pink.

“Oh sweetheart,” you whispered, “Are you feeling the heat in your abdomen now?”

You smiled gently as he nodded shyly back at you. Encouraging him with your facial expression as you hummed in acknowledgement.

“This is called being horny, Mark.” you spoke, much more calmly and clearly than you thought possible because of the heat tickling your own lower half. “What do you normally do when you feel this way?”

“I-I don’t normally do anything,” Mark admitted, eyes flicking up to yours for just a moment before settling back to his own clasped hands, “I just try to distract myself until it goes away.”

“Oh you poor thing,” you whispered, drawing your hand up to Mark’s face and caressing it gently, “Have you ever made yourself cum, Mark?”

Mark looked up at you again, confusion on his brow as he shook his head, “I don’t know-know what you mean.”

“You’re such a sweet angel,” you said, “Would you like me to show you how you can make it go away?”

Mark’s eyes connected with yours, and finally, they stayed there. He looked deep in thought, but before you could rush to apologize and hurry back to your room, he spoke.

“You can make it go away?” he asked hesitantly, and god did you want to ruin him on the spot. Wrap your lips around him and make him curse the lord he so deeply believed in. But you held back. The last thing you wanted to do was scare him away.

“I can show you,” you spoke slowly, “if you want me to.”

“I think I might like that,” he whispered, the bob of his adams apple making you grow damp between your thighs. There was just something about Mark that made you insatiably hungry. And not for a meal.

You scooted closer to him on the couch, ignoring the thumping of your heart and the wetness between your legs as you spoke, “I’m gonna tell you what you need to do. And you’re gonna listen, aren't you, baby?”

Mark’s eyes widened as he gulped, but he still nodded his head. You felt a little bad for how nervous he seemed, considering how excited you were.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You asked, analyzing his face closely. When he nodded you just tutted at him, “I need words, Mark.”

“Yeah,” he spoke, “I really want to do this.”

“Okay,” you smiled gently at him, “I want you to start by letting your hands explore. Touch everywhere, slowly, and find what feels best for you, Mark.”

You watched intently as he slowly brought his hand up to his neck, letting his fingers hesitantly dance across his skin. His eyes shot to yours when he shuddered, unable to stop himself.

“Is-is that good?” he asked, whining as he dropped his hand to his chest.

“You’re doing so good, Mark,” you encouraged, hesitantly placing your hand on his thigh, “Is it ok if I touch you like this?”

Mark nodded so quickly you almost laughed, the blush dusting his cheeks almost as cute as the way he squirmed under your grasp. His breathing increased as you crept your fingers slowly up his thigh. You let your hand rest on his hip, splaying your fingers so close to his dick but so far away.

“You’re- you’re making it worse,” he stuttered out, letting out a shocked moan as his fingers brushed over his nipple.

“No, baby,” you smirked at him, “I’m making it better.”

Mark’s cock jumped in his sweats, his blush deepening as he let out another quiet moan, “I- I like it when you call me that.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, “I’m glad you like being called baby, it suits you.”

His breath hitched as you dipped a finger beneath the band of his sweats, letting it rest there. You smiled when his hands met yours, grabbing his pants and tugging them off. You almost moaned as his glistening red cock slapped his stomach. He hadn’t been wearing underwear.

“What do I do now?” he whispered, eyes blown out with lust and hair perfectly tousled.

You let your finger trail up to where a bead of precum rested on the head of his dick. You watched as his face scrunched in pleasure, breath knocked out of him as you swirled the wetness around the tip.

“Make sure your hand is wet enough,” you said, spitting into your hand, smirking as Mark’s eyes shot open at the noise, flickering down to where your hand was hovering over his cock.

You watched as he swallowed, his own fingers curling into the couch as he said, “Will you please touch me now?”

“How could I say no when my baby asks so nicely,” you said, eyes never leaving his face as you finally wrapped a hand around his length.

Mark was a sight to behold. Sweat glistened on his forehead as you wrapped your hand tightly around his cock. The guttural moan he let out was enough to have you cumming in your pants, but you held strong. Well as strong as you could as he clung onto your form. You dragged your hand slowly up his length, thumb flicking over the head of his cock as he groaned into your shoulder.

You felt on top of the world, Mark’s pleasure the direct response to every flick of your wrist. You barely recognized him. Whining, needy mess as he mewled into your shoulder.

“Mo-mommy,” he whimpered, hands quickly finding your core, “Can I touch you too?”

Who were you to deny your polite boy, quickly and ungracefully shoving your panties to the side to give Mark an easier access to your heat. You’d be lying if you said the term mommy had no effect on you. In fact, you were dripping at this point, just one look at Mark enough to make your pussy throb in need. Not that you would tell him that.

“Baby,” you said quietly, guiding Mark’s over-enthusiastic hand to your clit, “right here, keep rubbing in circles.”

“Yes, mommy,” he whimpered, shoving his reddened face into your shoulder as your wrist moved quicker up and down his length.

“Good boy,” you groaned, squirming where you sat on the couch as Mark slipped a finger into your dripping cunt.

You were getting each other off at an inhuman pace, the two of you squirming and wiggling where you sat. The pleasure of it all too much to take. This was Mark’s first time feeling any contact on his cock, and you’d be lying if you said you never dreamed of Mark’s fingers pumping into you at the pace they were now.

This was the definition of a wet dream, for both of you. And as you came with his fingers reaching a place in you no one else had reached before, you were determined to make Mark cum.

You flicked your thumb around the head of his cock, watching with half lidded eyes as he shuddered. He was putty in your hands, and there was no way in hell that he would ever be able to touch himself the way you were touching him now. And you didn’t care. The only thing you cared about in this moment was throwing him off the edge with you. Corrupting that sweet little church boy the only way you knew how.

It was with a satisfying grin and an earth-shattering moan from Mark as you watched cum spurt from him. Eyes scrunched in pleasure as his entire body shook with a feeling he had never experienced before. An orgasm.

You watched in wonder as he clung onto you. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he threw his head back on the couch. You watched as his cock twitched as rope after rope of cum sprung from him, years of pent up pleasure finally releasing at your hands. You had never felt more powerful in that moment.

You parted that night with a sweet kiss to his lips after cleaning him up. Boneless Mark even more pliable than before, and as much as you hated yourself for it, you couldn’t stop thinking about what you could do to a sleepy Mark. That night there was no awkwardness between you.

That, of course, changed as time passed, both of you ignoring the mutual pleasure you had achieved by the other's hand. You ignored any feelings you had, whether it be attraction or lust. Mark deliberately avoided you, and as much as you hated to admit it, but you avoided him too.

You were convinced the two of you would never recover from this, from your experimentation with each other's bodies. At least until he burst into your room one Sunday afternoon, notably after his father’s church service, with a question and burning cheeks.

“Have you ever given a blowjob?” he asked, the door to your bedroom swinging into the wall with a loud bang that neither of you could hear.

“Mark?” you asked, putting your laptop to the side as you looked quizzically up at him.

“I watched one..porn video about it last week and I haven't been able to focus since.”

“You watch porn now?” you asked, raising a critical eyebrow as you looked him up and down.

“I-, no” Mark stuttered, face flushing an impossibly deeper shade of red, “yes, what about it?”

“You sound sure of yourself,” you teased, “come sit.”

“Never mind-”Mark rushed out, turning away from you and hurrying towards your open door.

“Sit, Mark. Now please,” you spoke, dominance in your tone as you watched his body language change.

You smiled softly to yourself as he shuffled to your bed, sitting on the edge and avoiding your gaze.

“Did you have a question for me, baby?”

You almost laughed as he sighed, body immediately relaxing at the nickname he had told you he loved so much.

“I was just wondering,” he said, glancing up at you and losing his confidence, “haveyouevergivenablowjob?”

“What was that? I couldn’t quite catch that, Mark,” you said, knowing glance as you watched his lips form into a perfect pout.

“Are you really gonna make me ask again,” he whispered, looking down from where his eyes previously met yours.

“Yes, baby, I am.”

You grasped his hand as he whined, squeezing his palm slightly as he pouted up at you.

“Have you ever given a blowjob?” he whispered, eyes glancing to every corner of the room to avoid your gaze.

“I have.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle as his eyes met yours curiously. Fingers playing with your comforter as you watched the wheels turning in his brain. You were begging him to ask, practically groveling for him to say the words that would fuel the corruption kink you had solely for Mark.

“Can you…” Mark started, scotting subconsciously closer to you, “can you give me one?”

“Well that depends on you, Mark. Do you think you deserve my mouth?”

You watched with bated breath as he nodded, a tent already fully formed in his pants as the conversation went on.

“What makes you think you deserve it, huh? You’ve been ignoring me for weeks, Mark. After Mommy made you feel so good. You ignored me, and now I find out you’ve been watching porn. Being such a naughty boy. Doesn’t really seem right to give you my mouth.”

You had him now, hook line and sinker. He was trapped, listening to every one of your words, waiting with bated breath as you made up your mind.

“I- I’ve never felt it before, Mommy. I promise I’ll be better next time. I’ll do better next time. Just please suck me off,” he begged, filthy words dripping from his mouth in desperation.

“I’m ruining you, Mark,” you whispered, “Absolutely destroying your sweet innocence. What about your God, Mark? Would he want you to beg for my mouth like you just did?”

“I-,” he started, quieting as you pushed a finger towards his lips.

“It’s ok, baby. I’ll make you worship that God of yours in a way you didn’t even know was possible.

You steadied his shaking body as you switched him places on your bed. Sitting in front of him in your disgustingly dirty pj top and messy bun as he laid in front of you. You tugged his pants down, licking your lips in want as his cock slapped his stomach.

You wanted this just as much as he did, evident by your drool and dirty thoughts. You hadn’t noticed his sizable length before, too focused on all of the other unbelievable things that had happened before wrapping your hand around his cock. You took it all in now, the glory of Mark’s cock, pulsing red and so incredibly hard in need. If he hadn’t whimpered you would’ve stared at this beautiful sight for hours. But he was needy and so were you. So you wrapped your mouth around him. And dear God was Mark a sight to behold.

He had stars in his eyes as your tongue ran up the length of his cock. He could barely contain himself as his hips bucked up into your mouth. Politeness leaving his body as he followed his craving for pleasure.

Within seconds his hands were in your hair. Tugging as you worked your mouth over his sensitive length. He was barely holding it together, and the second you reached the bottom of his cock, he cursed.

His hips were itching to move, you could feel the way they bucked ever so slightly as you took him. Your hands grasped his thigh tightly as he unintentionally pushed your head down. You were taking as much as he gave you, and as he whined in pleasure you couldn’t help A second later he wasn’t touching you anymore, eyes wide when you glanced up at him.

“So-sorry,” he whispered, for what you weren’t sure.

“What’s wrong, Mark?” you asked gently.

“I should go,” he said, face paling as he scooted further away from you on the bed, “This isn’t right.”

You stood up quickly, sitting beside him and cupping his face in your hands, “Mark you can go if you want to, I won’t stop you. But do you really think something that felt so good could be bad?”

“I-I don’t know,” he whispered, shying away from your touch, “I’m going to the library.”

He stood up quickly, half tripping as he tried to pull his pants back up, fumbling with himself and the door as he tried to leave.

“Mark,” you called out to him, waiting until he turned to meet your gaze before continuing, “It’s ok that you aren’t ready yet. But I’m always here if you have more questions.”

He nodded at you, “Thank you, for understanding,” blush returning to his cheeks as he spoke, “I feel comfortable around you, Yn.”

He closed the door after he left, and while your Sunday afternoon was spent attached to a vibrator, you were glad Mark had felt comfortable enough with you to tell you that he wasn’t comfortable.

Maybe you had pushed him too far, and as much as it killed you, you were glad he was taking his time. If your baby wasn’t ready to go any further than handjobs, then that was that. He was too innocent to be corrupted, which is what made corrupting him all the better.

Yes, Mark had been full of curiosity and questions. But you were the one who wasn’t ready for the question he asked next.

#mark smut #mark angst #mark fluff #mark fanfic #mark lee smut #mark lee angst #mark lee fluff #mark lee fanfic #mark tuan smut #mark tuan angst #mark tuan fluff #mark tuan fanfic #this i wrote with mark lee in mind but its hot either way

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taeyongdoyoung · 3 years ago

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summary: you have a crush on college student renjun so you make use of your best lamest flirting attempts and surprisingly they work?!

pairing: renjun x gn!reader

genre: college!au, romance, pure fluff

warnings: very lame jokes, mentions of a cruel prank in the past (someone asking out renjun as a joke, pls never do that to people!), lots of awkwardness & sweetness, a bit of swearing, reader has an obsession with renjun’s pretty hands

word count: 4.7k

It had been a while since you had a crush so strong you even had a hard time focusing in class. Usually, you were a very good student, diligently taking notes and participating when the professor asked questions. But that was until you saw Renjun for the first time.

It was like something possessed you and suddenly you couldn't think about anything else but his pretty, gentle face, his angelic voice and his lovely hands always drawing something in his notebook. It certainly didn't help much that you were seated right next to him during your shared lectures. It most certainly didn't help that you forgot all your vocabulary when you were in his immediate vicinity. Usually, your teachers and friends described you as well-spoken and eloquent, always knowing the right thing to say.

But that was, of course, until Renjun. All words disappeared from your poor brain whenever he was around. And it's not like you didn't want to talk to him, get to know him better. But you physically couldn't bring yourself to form a coherent sentence. You kept telling yourself it was just a silly crush and it would pass in time. But the more time passed, the stronger you felt the need to do something about your feelings. Naturally, you couldn't speak, but there was still something you could do. Something you probably did best. Write.

So one day, after what felt like an eternity of yearning, you finally gathered the courage to act on your emotions. Taking a small sheet of paper out of your notebook, you wrote a little something. It was probably super lame but apparently, even your writing skills were affected by your crush on him. As soon as your "masterpiece" was done, you slid it towards Renjun before you could chicken out and change your mind about this whole thing. The note had the following text:

Roses are red, Violets are blue, Your drawings are almost As pretty as you. P.S. Key word: almost ;)

The second he spotted the little note which was folded in a hurry, he opened it curiously. Once he read its insides, you could hear him snort under his breath. Was it that bad? You couldn't help but worry. Then, he took his own pen and started writing something under it. That was a good sign, right? You were feeling hopeful. Once he was done, he slid the paper towards you. You opened it in a rush. His response was:

Hey! Are you bullying my art?!?

You looked at him in confusion. How could he have possibly misunderstood? However, he was too focused on multitasking (drawing most of the time and occasionally taking notes based on the lecture) to spot your reaction. You decided you had no choice but to be as explicit as possible and wrote another note:

Nooo, I meant to compliment both you and your art, sorry if it came off wrong and lame :(

When he received it, you could swear you saw him smiling a little, which made your heart melt. How was he so beautiful? Soon enough, his reply came:

That's alright, I'm just teasing...Also, it worked.

You couldn't believe it. It worked? You'd successfully grabbed his attention by using this first-grade flirting method in college? You were suddenly feeling brave and kept writing. It was too late to turn back time.

I just think you're really pretty and cool especially when you draw but I was too hesitant to talk to you directly...

When he read your most recent note, he even gave you a look of disbelief, which you couldn't interpret until you saw his response:

Cool? Wow, that's a first...And it's ok, I don't bite.

You chuckled quietly and suddenly noticed that class was ending soon. You couldn't wait until tomorrow so you hurriedly wrote the content of your next note:

What do I have to do to get your number?

Renjun shook his head in amusement and this time, his reply came quicker than before:

*number enclosed* Here, that wasn't so hard, was it?

You could hear the lecturer saying his words of conclusion and you hurried to respond via another note, because you couldn't trust your voice to actually speak to Renjun. Not yet, at least. So, you wrote:

Thank you!!! Here is mine: *number enclosed*

And just as he received your final note, the students around you started gathering their things. You simply looked at Renjun and you still couldn't believe he'd actually replied to your silly flirting and even gave you his number! You waved him goodbye like a lovesick fool and practically ran outside of the lecture hall. Stage fright whomst? Try having a crush on the prettiest boy in the world.

After you went back home, you debated calling Renjun. Eventually, you talked yourself out of it. What if you said something stupid and embarrassing? With texting, you could at least have more time to think things through before sending them. Actually speaking to him seemed too terrifying a task to accomplish. So, you texted him excitedly and your heart did a back-flip when he replied. Was it strange that you already missed him, even though it had only been a couple of hours since you last saw him? Naturally, you couldn't tell him that, it would probably freak him out. So, you settled for texting (for the time being).

Renjun: Why did you run away after class?

You: I was too nervous to speak to you, I'm sorry!!!

Renjun: That's strange, I see you talking to your friends all the time...Am I so scary?!?

You: Nooo, you're not scary, I'm just being an idiot 😔

Renjun: Top of the class does not equal idiot but I'll let it slide this time

You: Thank you for your generosity!

Renjun: What are you up to?

You: Probably gonna work on that assignment for next week

You: Sorry, I'm so boring 😔

Renjun: First of all, you don't have to apologize so much, you did nothing wrong

Renjun: Second of all, saaame. We can brainstorm together if you want?

You: Sorry, I'll stop. Oops, I did it again. Pretend you didn't see it.

You: Also omg, yes pls, that would be great!

And that is how your friendship with Renjun started. Texting on your phones and exchanging notes during class lasted a week until you finally decided to ask him out. Again, via text, because you were feeling too shy to speak to him. The only other contact you'd had was waving at each other. And it's not like he spoke to you, either. There were two explanations for that: 1) he chose to respect your decision or 2) he was possibly just as shy as you were. Whatever the reason, you thought this could not go on forever so you managed to find the bravery to propose a date.

You: Do you wanna go out with me? 👉🥺👈

Renjun: Sure, where do you wanna go?

You: Oh, wow, I didn't think I'd get this far lol

You: Where do YOU wanna go?

Renjun: Hmm, there's this new art gallery I've been meaning to visit...if that's okay with you

You: Anything is good with me as long as I get to see your pretty face

Renjun: What

You: I said you're pretty

Renjun: Shut up, oh my God...

You: Do you want me to stop?

Renjun: Say that again

You: You're pretty

Renjun: 😳😳😳

Renjun: I can't wait to see you again

You: Same here

Once you got to the front of the art gallery, it struck you how strange it was that you would speak to Renjun for the first time ever. You mentally braced yourself as you awaited his arrival anxiously. Your nails were digging into the inside of your hands and you were terrified you'd pierce holes through your own skin. You told yourself this was silly, you had no reason to be so nervous. Renjun was a total sweetheart and he obviously liked talking...well, writing to you. You needn't worry that much, you kept repeating in your mind. You were too busy hyping yourself up to notice him approaching behind you. Too busy to be prepared for what came next.

"Hiii," Renjun greeted you with a surprise back hug.

"Oh dear," you jumped in shock as you turned around.

"Did I scare you, angel?"

Shit. Already with the pet names? How were you supposed to survive?

"No, it's fine," you waved him off, trying to play it cool. "Isn't it weird this is the first time we're actually speaking to each other?"

"Um...kinda," Renjun scratched the back of his head. "But I like it, it's what makes this so special."

"Wow, you sure do have a way with words," you chuckled.

"Shall we go inside?" he suggested.

"Yes, please."

As you looked around the art gallery, you kept pointing excitedly at the paintings, while Renjun was quietly evaluating them and telling you interesting stories about the artists. You couldn't help but be amazed by how attractive he was as he exhibited his knowledge. And of course, you couldn't help but wonder at how he was so much more beautiful than all the art you've ever seen. Naturally, you wouldn't tell him that. First of all, because it was too lame to speak aloud. Second of all, because your voice would undoubtedly betray you and crack or something even more embarrassing. As time passed, you were surprised at how easy it was to talk to him, despite your previous concerns. Renjun was very polite and soft-mannered and he made you feel comfortable, while the two of you looked at the paintings and discussed them. Once you'd seen everything, you were starting to feel a bit bummed out that your lovely date was coming to an end. When you were outside the art gallery, you impulsively asked:

"Can I walk you home?"

"I mean...sure. On one condition."

"Anything."

"I get to walk you home next time."

"There'll be a next time?" you whispered hopefully.

"I hope I don't sound presumptuous if I share my observation we both had a wonderful time."

"That's perfectly alright. Your observation is correct," you admitted.

"I live just around the corner, though. You really don't have to-"

"But I want to."

"So do I," Renjun said and the two of you began walking towards his home.

"I was wondering about something...You already know I didn't speak to you because I was feeling shy, but why didn't you? I have two theories, but I'm curious which one is more on point."

"Do tell and I'll try my best to enlighten you," he joked.

"Okay, so theory number one is you were being respectful of my wish not to talk yet. Theory number two is that you're just as shy as I am."

Renjun laughed and you could swear this was the sweetest sound in the entire universe.

"Am I so transparent? Honestly, it's a little bit of both. But there's another part you didn't guess. But it's too embarrassing."

"Come on, tell meee! It can't be more embarrassing than my lame attempts to flirt with you."

Renjun smiled gently.

"Well, to be honest, I couldn't believe you thought I was cool and pretty...I even feared this was some sort of prank. It wouldn't be the first time someone decided to mess with me like that."

"Renjun, are you serious? I don't understand why anyone would...Scratch that, whoever messed with you didn't deserve even a fraction of your attention. I meant every word I said. I really like you...and your paintings. And I'm sorry I couldn't say it aloud earlier. You genuinely deserve to hear nice things more."

"Thank you. I appreciate it," he blinked cutely. "But enough about me. I never told you...how beautiful you are. How kind and smart."

"I know," you waved him off teasingly. "But coming from you, this means a lot."

Renjun shook his head, amused by your words.

"We should go somewhere you like next time. Maybe a bookshop?" he suggested.

"Am I so transparent?" you repeated his words. "But sure, yeah. That sounds nice."

"Well, this is me," he said, pointing towards his home.

"Already? Aw, time sure flies by when you're having fun."

"I'll see you tomorrow in class, right?"

"Of course," you promised and before you could talk yourself out of it, gave him a quick but heartfelt hug. "Bye, Renjun."

"Bye, angel."

After your first date with Renjun, things were going quite smoothly. You finally got over your nervousness when it came to talking to him and the two of you would occasionally whisper things to each other during class. The first time he held your hand under the desk your cheeks filled with colour. Despite your embarrassment, you held his hand right back and granted him with a grateful smile. After that, holding hands in class (whenever you weren't busy taking notes) became like second nature to you two. It just felt so sweet and comfortable to be close to him. You couldn't wait till the next weekend for your second date. Even though you were just going to a bookshop and had nothing that special planned out, you enjoyed being around him so much that you were more than excited for spending time with him one-on-one. No professors or other students to distract you.

When the day finally arrived, you were surprised to find out your anxious self had made a comeback. Even though you were around him everyday and had grown accustomed to holding a conversation, it had been an entire week since your first date when it was just the two of you and you couldn't help but get cold feet as you were waiting in front of the bookshop. This time Renjun didn't surprise you from behind, you could see him approaching from a distance. Mentally bracing yourself for his inevitable arrival, you knew you'd be an awkward mess no matter how hard you tried.

"Hey, angel," he greeted you with the usual hug.

"It's nice to see you again, Renjun," you replied dumbly, briefly melting into his arms.

"You saw me yesterday, remember?" he teased you.

"Um, yeah, but still," you chuckled.

"Is everything okay? You don't seem like yourself," Renjun immediately noticed the change in your behaviour.

"Why wouldn't it be? Everything's peachy," you lied, but he didn't seem to believe you.

"Be honest with me, please," Renjun asked. You suddenly remembered what he'd confided in you during your first date. It was no wonder he had a hard time trusting you after someone in his past had had the nerve to pull such a cruel prank on a soul as sweet as his. You felt guilty for lying rightaway and began explaining yourself.

"I'm sorry, I'm just nervous. I don't want to fuck anything up. Like I just did by lying and swearing. Fuck. I did it again, didn't I? I'll shut up now," you were rambling anxiously.

"Relax, Y/N, I totally get it. I was just worried maybe you didn't want to be here...with me."

"What? Nonsense. There's nowhere else I'd rather be. No one else I'd rather be with."

"Well, the feeling's mutual so there's no need for concern. Let's look at those books, yeah?"

"Yeah, sounds good, Renjun."

As the two of you went inside and started exploring the hundreds of shelves together, you felt yourself relaxing a little. Being surrounded by so many familiar titles, so many gorgeous covers was comforting. And as you kept showing Renjun some of your favourite books and telling him about your most beloved characters, he realized you were back to your usual self in no time. Attentively listening and occasionally sharing his opinions on certain authors, you didn't notice how quickly time passed by and how much you had enjoyed yourself and each other's company. Once you had looked through the bookshop in its entirety, you felt like it was too early to put an end to your date, but you didn't want to come off as too clingy or something. So, you simply looked at Renjun, expecting him to say what he wanted to do next.

"I promised you I'll walk you home this time, didn't I?" he smoothly said.

"I believe you did," you giggled. It was so sweet of him to remember such a detail.

"I'm a man of my word so lead the way," Renjun replied, offering you his arm.

"It will be my pleasure," you eagerly took his arm and the two of you began walking. You were deliberately moving at a slow place, simply because you didn't want this to end and felt like prolonging the time around him.

"Your hands are so pretty," you blurted out at one point.

"You like my hands, huh?" Renjun smirked.

"Did I say that out loud?" you were undoubtedly blushing really hard.

"I'm afraid so."

You felt completely mortified as you covered your face with your own hands.

"Hey, hey, it's fine. You can tell me anything. Chances are I'll take it as a compliment."

"Really?" you sneaked a peak. "You don't think I'm weird?"

"Maybe a little bit, but it's one of the things I like about you."

"One?" you blinked curiously.

"You're really fun to be around and you've been nothing but sweet to me. And of course, you're stunning, but that goes without saying."

"Without saying? I don't mind hearing it, though."

"I'll have that in mind," Renjun smiled gently.

"Renjun?"

"Yes?"

"Can you hold my hand?" you almost begged.

"I don't know, can I?" he tormented you with a joke.

"Will you hold my hand?" you corrected yourself.

"All you had to do was ask," Renjun acquiesced and intertwined your fingers.

Walking hand in hand, you eventually reached your place. As you two stared at one another, you refusing to go inside, him refusing to go, both of you refusing to let go of the other's hand, you thought to yourself how badly you wanted to kiss him. You had no idea if it was too early for that but you knew that the longer you tried to postpone it, the more you'd crave him. And you were an impatient person. So you quickly kissed him without thinking much. It was a bit awkward and rushed but at least, you had finally done as you wanted. Renjun looked taken aback and blinked at you a couple of times.

"I'm sorry," you apologized again. "I just..."

He silenced you softly with another kiss, this time more slowly and putting your mind and heart at ease. You lost yourself in the feeling of his plush lips against yours, finally letting go of his hand so that you could wrap yours around his neck. Hesitant at first but growing bolder by the second, you could sense Renjun's tongue testing the waters. You slightly parted your lips, letting him in. As the kiss intensified, you could feel him becoming more eager to touch you, his arms wrapped around your lower back. When you were seconds away from losing your breath, you finally broke the kiss. Opening your eyes to look at him, you couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. He'd kissed you back.

"I thought I told you to stop apologizing so much. Especially, when you haven't done anything wrong," Renjun scolded you politely.

You opened your mouth to argue, but when you realized your immediate response would have been another 'I'm sorry', you closed it. A second later, you came up with a different reply.

"I guess you'll have to discipline me, then," you huffed in a challenge.

"Dumbass," Renjun flicked your forehead.

"Hey!" you complained with a pout. "That hurts."

"What do you want me to do? Kiss it better?" Renjun gave an unamused look.

"That doesn't sound like such a bad idea," you mumbled, not expecting him to actually...kiss your forehead. But he did. And damn your knees for threatening to give out.

"Feel better yet?"

You nodded enthusiastically.

"Get inside already," Renjun tickled your sides, nudging you in the direction of your door.

"You want to get rid of me so badly?"

"No, but we can stand here forever if you don't," he rolled his eyes.

"Do you want me to invite you in?"

"Don't tempt me and go," he was impossible to sway.

"Okay, okay," you relented. "See you tomorrow, Renjun!"

For your third date Renjun suggested something different. While your first and second date had all taken place in public locations, this time he offered going to his place. And maybe the shock on your face was too obvious, because Renjun was quick to keep talking and almost take it back.

"We don't have to if you don't want to! We can just watch something at the cinema or whatever. Forget I mentioned it if you're uncomfortable."

You quickly shook your head.

"No, no, I do want to come over! I was just...not expecting it."

"Yeah? You sure?"

"A hundred per cent," you nodded excitedly.

"Sorry to break it to you, but I'm at two hundred per cent," Renjun teased.

"It's not a competition," you reminded him.

"It's not if I'm winning," he kept playing around.

You rolled your eyes.

"So what are we watching?" you asked.

"You can't go wrong with Harry Potter, am I right?"

"You are so right," you squealed. "Which house are you in?"

"Don't get me started. Sometimes I get Ravenclaw, sometimes Slytherin, it's a mess."

"That's pretty cool, though," you were practically staring at him with heart eyes at this point.

"You're a Hufflepuff, aren't you?"

"Am I so transparent?" you complained, this line becoming something of a running gag between the two of you.

"Cute," he mumbled under his breath and you blushed, not managing to maintain eye contact.

When the time arrived for you to go to Renjun's place, you were more excited rather than nervous. He was so easy to talk to and you were genuinely making so many wonderful memories that you had made it your mission to not waste any second worrying needlessly.

"I have arrived," you announced the obvious as you stood at his door.

"I can see that," Renjun chuckled. "Come on in."

"I wasn't sure if I should bring something so I bought some pizza on the way. It's still hot, so I hope you're hungry," you said as you followed him inside like a puppy.

"Oh, that's very thoughtful. And I always have enough space left for pizza."

You grinned and the minute you put the box on the table and your arms were free, you wrapped them around Renjun in a hug.

"You're so warm," you murmured against his skin.

He kissed the top of your head swiftly. Soon after, the two of you were too busy re-watching Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, eating pizza and holding hands to talk much. Once the movie was over, you realized how badly you didn't want to go home and how cozy leaning your head on Renjun's shoulder felt. And how much you liked him and couldn't stop thinking about his hands, his smile and his overall existence.

"Do you want to go home already?" Renjun asked the dreaded question.

"I mean, not really, but I don't wanna impose myself on you," you whispered.

"Don't be so formal," Renjun replied. "Just stay a little longer."

"Yayyy!" you were quite overjoyed and kissed his cheek. "What do you want to do?"

"Hm, I don't know. I could give you a tour around the place."

"Sure, that sounds fun," you immediately agreed.

"Don't get your hopes up, it's just a regular college guy's apartment."

"I'm sure I'll be amazed by every little detail."

"Even my socks?"

"Especially your socks," you joked.

As he showed you around his apartment, you couldn't help but be amazed by how Renjun-like everything was. From the snug kitchen to his art supplies scattered around. Every corner made the atmosphere feel extremely homey. Until you saw something that you hadn't expected, something that hadn't come up in conversation before. A stunning grand piano. You looked at the instrument and then at Renjun and finally, back at the piano.

"Do you play?"

"No, I just keep things like that as an accessory," he responded sarcastically. "Of course, I play."

"Can you...no, wait," you stopped yourself before making a similar mistake to the one you made a while ago. "Will you play something for me?"

"Right now?"

"If it's not too much trouble," you gave him the very best pleading look you were capable of.

Renjun sighed reluctantly and sat down on the bench in front of the piano.

"Don't just stand there awkwardly, sit next to me," he urged you courteously.

You followed his advice and took the free spot. However, nothing could have possibly prepared you for witnessing Renjun's skills up-close. Watching him play was like magic. You were simply in awe and couldn't help but stare at his pretty fingers hitting the keys in just the right ways. When he was finished performing the piece, you were too frozen to do anything. Couldn't even manage to clap, even though he deserved it so much. But you were too transfixed by his playing and those damn hands of his you couldn't possibly move.

"Earth to Y/N?" Renjun went as far as snapping his fingers right in front of your face.

"Huh?" you let out.

"Did I enchant you or what?"

"I think you did," you chuckled. "Just...wow. You're insanely good."

He looked away bashfully.

"Thanks. It just takes practice."

"Nah, I've heard people play before but what you have is different. So pure and genuine. Like a blessing. And I'm not just saying that because I think I'm falling in love with you. I really mean every word."

"Care to repeat that?"

"I really mean..." you started, still not registering what exactly you'd said. How far you'd gone. What you couldn't take back.

"Before that," Renjun reminded you gently. "You know. The part about falling in love with me."

"Shit. I was thinking out loud again, wasn't I?" you asked dumbly. "It's too early for that, I know. I'm really sorry. Let's just pretend I said nothing and forget about it, yeah?"

In your panic, you jumped up from the bench and were about to escape like a coward but Renjun grabbed your hand before you could take another step.

"I think I'm falling in love with you, too," he said.

"W-what?" you stammered.

"And I don't care about whether it's too early or not. And I'm not going to pretend I didn't hear it. So the question is...what are you going to do about that?"

"Me? What...am I supposed to do?"

"What you want to do," Renjun clarified.

"Um...I want to keep falling in love with you, Renjun. And holding your pretty hands. Spending time with you. Listening to your angelic voice. What I want...is for you to be my boyfriend."

"I thought I already was."

"You were?"

"We went on a couple of dates...we kissed...Haven't I made it obvious enough?"

"Oh, right," you chuckled. "Sorry."

"Say that word one more time, I dare you," Renjun slowly ran a finger down your lips.

"S-sorry?" you had to test his patience. Before you could argue, he kissed you fiercely, wrapping his palms around your cheeks. You were drowning beneath his touch, which was ridiculous, considering he was also setting your lips on fire. You figured if saying sorry too much was going to end up like this, you would be a fool not to take advantage of it.

"Pretty angel," Renjun whispered against your mouth. "My pretty angel."

You were practically melting and the only thing holding you together were Renjun's arms.

"For fear of sounding lame, I'm inclined to say your pretty angel's almost as pretty as you. Key word: almost," you giggled, recalling your earliest attempts at flirting with him.

"Lies," Renjun shook his head.

"Hey, it worked the first time!" you pouted.

"It only worked because you're the pretty one," Renjun ruffled your hair playfully.

"Oh my God, shut up," you covered your face to hide how red it was.

"Never."

The End

#nct #renjun #nct dream #renjun x reader #nct fluff #renjun fluff #hwang renjun #nct romance #hwang renjun x reader #college au #writing

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oikawaplssteponme · 4 years ago

Text

original request: @bakugousmymassa Hi willow🥺❤️❤️ ok so this has been on my mind for so long and I hope it makes sense. Ok so bakugou x fem reader and like yk she’s simping for him through manga/anime little does she know he’s doing the same thing is his world. And like they start thinking about each other and it comes through in the manga/anime and like they somehow find a way to communicate through it and like their love/simping becomes so strong that she randomly pops up in the common room and the bakusquad/class 1a is like 👁👄👁 and like they kiss or whatever Ik it’s long and weird but like omg I can’t get it out my mind sorryyy😭😭

pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem! reader

warnings: some swear words

genre: fluff, a bit angsty

a/n: thank you so much for the request bb! i added my own twist to it so i hope you like it!!

finally done with all my inbox requests!! 99% of them were bakugou in which i had zero complaints. i am here for all your bakugou needs 🤩i got a bit carried away with writing this so that’s why im letting it have it’s own moment☺️ i loved writing this and i would love to hear your thoughts on it (reblogs are greatly appreciated too🧡) enjoy xx

•

It was your favorite bookstore. It was where you bought your first manga. It was where you found a love for all these complex characters and incredible storylines. This bookstore seemed to satisfy every craving you had in regards to a 2D boy to fawn over. So there was no surprise that when you strolled into the bookstore, you headed straight to where the My Hero Academia mangas were.

You had read them all, even watched the anime. For some reason, you just kept coming back. You couldn’t get enough.

Something on the bookshelf had caught your attention. Among the original mangas, there was one lone book, different from the rest. You stared at the cover. It had your favorite character on it, keeping you intrigued. You had never seen this one before. Was it a side story? Was it a new release? If so, why would there only be one? Out of your own curiosity, you decided to buy it.

You handed the bookstore cashier the manga and your money. They looked at you, simply smiling.

“Is Katsuki Bakugou your favorite?” they asked.

“Yeah, he is,” you smiled. They handed you the book.

“Unfortunately there are no returns on this special edition. I guess you’ll be stuck with him,” they said. You chuckled, taking their comment as a joke.

“I’m okay with that.”

Once you were home, you sat down on your couch and pulled out the book, opening it up.

“What the…”

The pages were blank. The entire book had nothing in it. No words, no drawings, just plain white paper.

“How can you sell an empty book?” you groaned. You thought you had wasted your money on this. You set the book down, staring at the blank page angrily.

Suddenly, one spot of ink appeared on the page. Then more. Your eyes grew as the pages created their own drawing in the corner.

“This isn’t happening…”

You stared at the drawing, stunned.

“What kind of idiot buys a book before opening it first,” read the text bumble. On the page was a drawing of Katsuki Bakugou, his arms crossed with his classic smirk.

“H-How did you just…”

Another drawing began to appear next to the original.

“What? Never seen a self-drawing manga before? Come on dumbass, keep up with me here.”

You couldn’t believe your eyes. Bakugou was talking to you, through a manga.

“B-But you’re not real… you’re just a drawing…”

“Sure I’m a drawing right now, just as you are a drawing on my end. Doesn’t make me or you any less real.”

“Why are you talking to me… how did you find me?”

“Well, how did you find out about me?”

“I read about you in my mangas and I watch your show…”

“Then there is your answer gorgeous. I do the same.”

“I’M A CHARACTER IN A MANGA?” Your brain couldn’t seem to process everything that was happening.

“Of course you are. Damn, you aren’t the brightest…”

“B-But then how did I get your book? Anyone could have bought it.”

“Well me and Shitty Hair figured out a way to leave something behind for you. So that’s how you can talk to me through the book,” explained Bakugou.

“This isn’t happening...this is a lot to process right now. You’re like my dream guy but you’re supposed to be fictional and I’m not entirely sure what to do with all this new information,” you sighed.

“I can explain better in person.”

“I’m sorry, what-”

“Go grab a pen.”

“Bakugou-”

“Go grab a pen Y/N.”

You did as you were told, grabbing the nearest pen.

“Okay now what?”

“Go to a new page and draw yourself, like how I am,” Bakugou instructed. You were skeptical but did it anyway. You created a small box and drew yourself, resembling a manga panel.

“Now write your location as ‘in the common area’.”

“This has to be some kind of fever dream…”

“Just do it dumbass.”

You carefully wrote your desired location.

“Okay now what?”

“I’ll see you later dumbass,” smirked Bakugou. Your eyes grew.

“What- no you can’t just leave-”

“Bye nerd.”

No new panel appeared. You sighed, still in shock.

“There’s no way that was real…”

You set the manga down and laid on your back. You felt a wave of exhaustion come over you. You yawned, slowly falling asleep.

“Be quiet, you’re gonna wake her up!”

“How did she even get here?”

“Do you think Bakugou would be mad if I asked her out?”

“It’s not like she would say yes…”

“HEY-”

“Shit I think she’s awake....”

You felt groggy. As if you had been sleeping for days. You slowly started to open your eyes. People-like figures hovered around you.

“Back up, give her some space…”

You sat up, rubbing your eyes. The room was bright. The yellow-tinted walls and green floor caught your attention.

“Where am I…”

“UA High! A prestigious academy made for creating the world’s best Heroes!”

“Wait… Iida?”

“Correct!”

You soon realized what had happened. You looked around to all the familiar faces.

“Iida, Deku, Jirou, Kaminari, Momo, Mina, Kirishima, Todoroki…”

“Damn you’re good!” smiled Denki. You couldn’t believe it. You had some how made your way into your favorite story.

“Am I in the anime?”

“What anime?” asked Todoroki.

“Our anime! Or manga whichever you prefer!” smiled Deku.

“This has to be a dream, right?”

“How? You just woke up?”

“Todoroki it was a rhetorical question…”

“Oh…”

“Um where is Bakugou?” You asked. Everyone smiled.

“He’s waiting outside. You can go meet him,” explained Kirishima. You gulped. It’s not every day you get to come face to face with your fictional crush. Well, not so fictional now.

“Uh okay…” You stood up from the couch, beginning to make your way out the door. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door.

Bakugou was sitting on the steps of the dorms. His heart was beating out of his chest, though he wouldn’t admit it. He twiddled his thumbs as he waited for you to show up.

“H-Hey…” you whispered. Bakugou perked up, immediately standing up and turning around to face you. He looked at you with widened eyes. The both of you just stared at each other for a bit, fathoming the idea that you were really there. Seeing him on a screen or on a page was nothing compared to seeing him in real life.

“Damn…” he mumbled.

“What?”

“You’re beautiful.”

Even though this was technically your first meeting, the two of you weren’t strangers. You knew everything about each other. The endless admiration through pages seemed to have led you here. Exactly where you were supposed to be.

“How is this even real?” You questioned. Bakugou chuckled.

“You do realize your world isn’t the only one out there. So I had to take you to mine.”

“So I’m like a character you read about?”

“Yeah, just as I am that to you. I read your story just as you read mine. It’s not that complicated.”

“Why me though?”

Bakugou took a step towards you. He smiled, taking your hand.

“Why wouldn’t I take the opportunity to meet someone I’ve always dreamed about?”

Your face got hot as you tried to hold back your smile. You squeezed his hand.

“I’m glad you did.”

“Then let’s go dumbass,” he said. You raised a brow.

“What?”

“Well we have to write the rest of the book, don’t we? Come on, I’ve only got you for 300 more pages,” He explained.

“Wait there’s a limit on this?”

“Don’t worry about that now. Now come on, we’ve got shit to do.”

You and Bakugou spent the entire day together. He showed you around Musutafu, introducing you to all his favorite places. He showed you his favorite places to train, his favorite restaurant, where he likes to buy his mangas, and even where he found the book that brought you here.

You couldn’t help but take mental notes while you were with him. His hair was a lot softer than you imagined, and he actually did smell of sweet caramel. His red eyes weren’t intimidating at all, actually, you found them adorable. Bakugou had little patience, which you figured correctly. As you held his hand, he would mumble soft ‘sorry’s’, afraid that his hands were getting sweaty. You reassured him that he was fine. That caused his cheeks to blush.

The two of you sat at a park bench, enjoying the view of the city before you. Your head was rested on his shoulder as you held onto his arm. You couldn’t believe this was real. The boy you spent ages crushing over through a screen actually felt exactly the same. It was better than words.

“I wish there were fireworks,” you said. Bakugou chuckled. He removed his arm from your grip.

“Here. How’s this?”

Bakugou started to create mini-explosions in the palms of his hands, resembling fireworks. You stared at the beautiful sparks. Your smile was contagious. You looked up at him but he was already looking at you. You felt your face turn hot.

“So how many more pages until I’m allowed to kiss you?” blurted out Bakugou. You flinched. The burning in your cheeks grew stronger. You smiled.

“None.”

You grabbed the collar of Bakugou’s shirt and pulled him towards you. You crashed your lips together. He gently cupped your face as he held you close. The way he kissed you was beyond anything you could have ever imagined. His heart was beating out of his chest too. He was looking forward to seeing you in person just as much as you were, maybe more.

You looked at Bakugou. His face flushed pink, a cheeky smile from ear to ear. He wrapped his arm around you.

“Wait I have something for you,” you remembered, “I don’t really know how these work but I thought you could use it too.”

You had handed Bakugou a book, similar to the one he had left for you.

“I just think we deserve another volume,” you grinned. Bakugou kissed the top of your head, taking the book.

“I think so too.”

You woke up to the sound of your phone ringing. You stretched and rubbed your eyes. Then you remembered.

“Was I really there?” you mumbled. You tried to orient yourself, still slowly waking up. You reached for the manga that sat on the other side of your couch. You took a deep breath opening it up.

The pages were no longer blank. They instead were filled with perfectly detailed drawings of you and Katsuki Bakugou, following the storyline you had just experienced. You wiped the stray tear from your eye and brought the book to your chest.

“Until next time, Katsuki Bakugou.”

•

[general taglist (form in masterlist) : @lealofsblog @iwaisa @bakugousmymassa @roesaurus @evivn1 @astrooliver @tetsoleil @bokutory @vangoghmusings @moonlightaangel @complimentaryhugsgirl ]

#willow.🌸#my hero academia #katsuki bakugō #bakugou x you #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x y/n #mha katsuki #katsuki x you #bnha katsuki x reader #bakugou imagine #bnha

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writingoneshots · 4 years ago

Note

Hey uhm first of all I just wanna say, your fics are really good!😭❤ secondly, I appreciate the amount of effort you put in to your fics so thank you so much!

How about having an argument with Zoro, Sanji, Ace and Law and f!s/o accidentally says "i hate you", what would their reaction be like?

Angst but fluff and comfort ending if u may omg agsjsvs

N e wayz, have an amazing day bub!❤🥺

Sensitive Topic

Hello softiebadbitch :) ! love this name.

I wasn't really sure how to add 4 readers into one story but I think I found a good solution. It's clear to me that you wanted to have 4 separate stories but this would have been too long for one post and you can't use one request for several posts.. sadly. Hope this fixed it - I made one general story and continued with 4 different endings. All of them are in the reader version but the 'extra girlfriends' have their specific names to not make it too complicated.

Kind of like this way of writing.. wouldn't mind more requests like this :) ! Thanks for letting me explore this new style even though it probably wasn't intended.

And thank you so much for the kind words. I really appreciate it <3 especially because I don't know if anything I write is good enough for Tumblr or literally any request. Thank you, thank you, thank you <3 !

- Ace x reader - ZoroxRey, SanjixAna, LawxValeria (if one of these names is yours.. you're welcome) - 2,774 words (but it's a 4 in 1 story) - lovey-dovey, little pain in our chest, signs of smut, still SFW, cute moments

Spending some girl-time with your closest best friends was a really rare occasion after spending years on many pirate ships. Especially bonding with female human beings was hard. But since you were dating Ace, you finally got the chance after meeting his friends. Some of them were already in a relationship with their current partners and the rest just started dating. After a successful shopping day, you spend the rest of the evening in the fanciest diner on this island and booked a whole room just for you and your better halves. The men were probably still training or doing something unimportant, but none of you cared. "Can you believe the guy from the bakery? He dared to follow us around just to carry our bags..?", Rey laughed and finished her second glass of wine. "Just please don't tell Sanji about it. He is already heartbroken because I went shopping without him.", Ana pouted and sighed a bit sad. You rolled your eyes, "Stop whining. This is the first time after eight months that we could hang out together. And we didn't have to worry about carrying something." "Plus, the guy seemed to be really into you, Ana.", Rey smirked and gave her a flirty wink. "Stop saying that! Sanji could come here any minute! You know how jealous he can get!", Ana warned Rey and glared at her. This was the worst timing ever. "Jealous? Why?! Did anyone touch you?!", Sanji's eyes were already in flames and he almost teleported himself to his girlfriend after hearing these words. The men decided to join you all on the right - or maybe wrong? - time and chose to mock the conversation. "Probably some weird girly things, we don't wanna know about.", Ace grinned and sat down right in front of you. The men sat down on the other side of the table and didn't even choose to greet them with a hug or a kiss, except for Sanji, who could barely let his fingers of Ana. You raised an eyebrow at Ace's comment, "What?" "Just kidding! You had probably something important to talk about.. like which nail color you're supposed to get next week.", Ace added and high-fived Zoro. "Or what hairstyle you should make to match your earrings!", Zoro couldn't stop laughing at his own comment. Ace turned to Law for another high five but he just glared at the topless pirate. "What? You're leaving me hanging like this?!" "Don't drag me into this.", Law turned away from him and faced Valeria, who seemed pleased by his answer. The others were not though. You were still confused by Ace's behavior but slowly understood that he tried to be as manly as possible in front of the others. Sanji sat down on his place after failing to convince Ana to have her sit on his lap. "What do you mean? An hour ago you were talking about how Valeria tried to draw her eyeliner but ended up looking like a panda!", Ace laughed and high-fived Zoro again, who seemed to feel a bit unsure about Ace's comment now. Rey looked down at her drink, already realizing how quickly the mood changed since they started making fun of all of you. Valeria was shocked. She didn't know how to respond and just shook her head, ignoring Law's desperate look on his face. "That's enough, Ace.", you talked silently and poured yourself some wine, not caring about the waiter offering to do it for you. "What.. I-", Ace froze after seeing your face. It pained him to see you being disappointed and he didn't know how that happened. "I am sorry if I have offended anyone.. we were just talking.. ", he cleared his throat and began to feel uncomfortable. He didn't see that coming. "Then maybe you should stop it", you were still not able to look up. "Stop what? Talking?" "Yes.", your eyes flashed up to him now. He didn't expect to see the anger in them. Ace has never seen that glare directed at him. It felt way too painful. "Okay, everyone. Let's calm down now and enjoy this dinner.", Sanji tried to cool down the situation and looked at the food, which didn't look good enough for his girlfriend. "Gonna be hard when you're here.", Zoro commented under his breath and was already eating his meal. "Huh?!", Sanji clenched

his teeth and tensed all his muscles to not smack Zoro for that comment. "Can you just calm down, you two?!", Ana took a deep and annoyed breath, trying to stay calm in this uncomfortable scenario. Ace couldn't stop but to look at you, ignoring him now. "Valeria-" "Don't.", she stopped Law from whatever he was trying to say. Everyone was quiet. Nobody was eating. "..anyone want some extra bread?", the waiter whispered and stood behind you, holding up a basket with fresh bread.

-----

Ace x reader When you arrived in the room of your hotel, you still didn't dare to say a word. You were still furious about his behavior, especially because this wasn't the first time he dared to say something like that. "(Y/N), I am-" "I don't want to hear it." "Please, just let me-" "I said, that I don't want to hear it.", you hit your jacket onto the bed and let go of it a few seconds after. Taking a deep breath, Ace pressed his lips together and didn't know what to say or do. You two never had a fight like this and he feared to say something wrong, which would make you leave him. "I don't want us to go to bed angry.", he whispered sadly and stepped closer to you. You just froze and closed your eyes, trying to remain calm. "You always do this.. every time you make fun of something I do. I stopped talking about my hobbies and literally anything that makes me happy and you caught a glimpse of us having fun, and immediately you chose to mock it..." Ace frowned at that and thought back to all the times he tried to have fun with you. He never understood any of your hobbies or what girls liked, which is why he tried to spend some time with you by making jokes but it never occurred to him that it was actually hurting you. "Why did you never tell me that? I didn't know that it hurt you.." "Because I shouldn't need to tell you! I hate when you try to make fun of me or other people like that! You literally took the joy of me doing my hair, trying to learn how to skateboard or even baking muffins! I hate this, I hate the fights and I hate yo-" Both of you froze right on your spots. "Oh my God..", tears were rolling down your eyes and your knees weren't able to support you any longer. You immediately went down to your knees and hid your face in your hands. "I didn't want to say this.. it slipped.. I don't hate you, Ace!" Your heart was aching at what you were about to say. Ace didn't feel any better. He sat down right next to you and watched you wiping your tears away. "I have caused this... I am sorry, (Y/N).. This will never happen again, I promise. I just wanted to be a part of something in your life.", he took a deep breath and pulled you onto his lap. "I will find another way. Just please.. don't hate me." You shook your head and hugged him tight back, hiding your face in his neck and never ever letting him go. --- Zoro x Rey Zoro came out of the shower, just a towel around his hips and water still dripping down his naked chest. This was usually a sight, which made you jump right onto him but not this time. The pirate hunter had hoped for you to fall for it because he was really bad at apologizing but he knew you had a stronger will than him. He would have fallen for it. You were already in bed, cuddled into your pillow and ignoring him professionally. "Rey.. I can feel that you're not sleeping.", Zoro approached the bed and sighed when you didn't respond. "..are you mad at me?", he whispered now carefully. You raised an eyebrow at this provocative question and pressed your lips together, trying not to give back a stupid answer. But your mouth responded faster than your brain. "No, I am super happy about today's events. We can repeat that tomorrow again, if you feel like making fun of women-things.", you added in a sarcastic tone. "So.. that's a yes?" You turned around, the pillow tight in your grip and pulled the pillow with a loud thud onto his face. When you took the pillow away, you narrowed your eyes at his provocative smirk. "Definitely, yes." "Shut up.", you sighed and were about to turn around again but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you to the other side of the bed until you were facing him. "Stop running away from your problems all the time, lady." "I really hate when you are doing this!", you tried to free your arm from his grip. "What?" "Using your strength to make me do whatever you want to!" "This is literally the reason, why you started dating me. Because I am not a weakling, who gets dragged by everyone like your stupid exes. But if you really hate it, then that means you must hate me

too, right?", he leaned forward, making sure not to miss any sort of reaction in your eyes. You looked at him surprised and didn't know what to say. After a few seconds, you shook your head and sighed a bit. "I couldn't hate you for being you. I hate the fact that you're making fun of girl-things all the time." "Alright, I'll stop then.", Zoro promised and let go of your hand. He turned around and went to the pile of washed clothes on the couch to pick out something to sleep in. Right.. I forgot how easy it can be in a relationship. You talk, promise and go on. Not believing what he just did, your brain had a thousand thoughts about what would happen during this night but it did not involve any sort of clothes. You stood up, went to him, and pulled away his towel. Zoro turned around, surprised by your decision, "Oj.. bad girl." --- Sanji x Ana After this emotional and very unusual dinner, you decided to have some tea. Sanji was still in your bedroom preparing a bath for you even though you've told him that you weren't in the mood for it. You hid in the kitchen and cooked some water, while preparing the rest. While you were looking for the honey, which he was hiding from Luffy, Sanji entered the kitchen. "Oj, what are you doing?", he approached you and immediately figured that you were making some tea. "Just something to warm myself up with a sweet taste.", you smiled a bit exhausted and felt Sanji's arms around you in an instant. "I am sorry for today.. I know that I promised you to not get triggered because of that marimo but his bare existence is to annoy me.", Sanji tried to brighten the mood and gave you a soft kiss on your head. "No, it's okay.. I am already used to it. I just wanted to have a chill day with the girls and this fight kind of ruined everything again.", you shrugged and leaned softly onto him, enjoying his muscular arms supporting you. "Oh.. so you don't hate me, right?" You laughed softly. The relationship had only just begun and Sanji had to question every move of yours. "I could never...", you looked up to him and kissed his warm lips softly, forgetting about everything that had happened in the last hour. --- Law x Valeria Law used his room ability to create a bubble surrounding the two of you. He carefully stepped closer and put his arm around your waist only to see you turn your head away from him. He tensed his jaw, trying to hide the sudden strike of pain in his chest and just decided to ignore it for now. "Shambles." You found yourself in your and Law's bedroom. After a few seconds, you just freed yourself from his arm and went straight into the bathroom, locking yourself in. Law just stood there, not knowing what to do or say. He had definitely hurt your feelings but he didn't know how to apologize for it. "Val..", he closed the distance slowly to the door and tried to listen to whatever you were doing inside. It sounded like you were throwing something away and sniffling quietly. Fuck.. "Valeria.. what are you doing?" "Cleaning.", your response was sharp. Law knew that he was a genius, who could solve the hardest puzzle on this planet or even have a detailed discussion with Robin, but even Luffy or Kid would have been able to figure out what you were doing right now. "Stop throwing away your things. I like it when you put on your make-up." "Are you sure about that? Or are you going to call me a dog or a salamander the next time you talk to others?!", you wiped away your tears and threw away the rest of the make-up, which you bought today. "Stop overreacting. I was just talking about your eyeliner the other day and you hated it too. Take out the make-up again and forget about it.", he sighed and knew that this wasn't something he should say but he also knew that it would trigger you enough to get out of the bathroom. "You know what-!", you opened the door harshly and stepped out, pointing your index finger at him. Law had a hard time hiding his cheeky smile because he already knew you well enough. "I hate what you're doing! Always talking about me behind my back! I hate

you for it!", you crossed your arms at your chest and took a deep breath, trying to control the last brain cells, which are still able to hold you back from kissing his cheeky smirk. The pirate captain raised an eyebrow at that and needed a second to choose his next words wisely. "Did you just tell me that you hate me?" "I said that I hate you for it! Not that I hate you!" "This is literally the same..", Law tilted his head a bit and couldn't quite accept that. "I hate it when you talk about me behind my back before talking to me personally. You were the first one to say 'I love you' but not directly to me.. no! You said it to Bepo first and he told me. Then you said that you preferred my soft cookies more than the brownies but again: you didn't tell me! You told Sanji! And to the newest 'Law is a wimp and can't tell his girlfriend anything personally', you told the boys that I looked like a damn panda!" "But a cute one..", Law smirked now and stepped closer, putting his hand on your cheek softly. You were just about to smack it away but Law was faster. He pushed you against a wall within a second and pressed his body against yours. His hand rested on your neck and he pressed his thumb against your chin, forcing you to look up at him. "Say it again, Valeria..", he purred your name in his dangerously sexy voice. "Say that you hate me." You frowned at his reaction and didn't really understand how this turned him on. "No, you weirdo." "Say it.", he commanded now and leaned closer to you, your lips barely touching. "Make me.", your last brain cells just said their goodbyes. A harsh sound of him pulling out his belt appeared beside you and you couldn't look away. His eyes were focused on yours as if he'd die if he'd miss anything for a second. "Don't tell Bepo.. but you're my favorite panda." "You fucking... I really hate you now.", you spoke through your teeth and tried to push him away. The most heartwarming laugh escaped Law's lips and he immediately locked his lips with yours, not giving you a chance to respond to him laughing. Law pulled your arms behind your back and tied them with his belt. "That's my girl.", he whispered in between your kiss and didn't let go of you for the rest of the night.

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jhoudiey · 3 years ago

Text

You like to play God, don't you?

Wrote this fic a while back, #ChickenChallenge starts trending on magicam again, and Yoru ends up trying to distract herself with her friends. Ends up watching Jade as he builds a terrarium, and ends with dumb and dumber fluff. 1825 words.

hey you’re that chicken girl from NRC right?

Yoru stared at her phone. Idia had finally updated it so that she was able to use it freely, her hands no longer an issue on the touch screen. She normally didn’t pay attention to notifications, but had texted him earlier that night hoping to hang out, instead her magicam had exploded, messages popping in so quickly she could hardly keep track

show me ur feet

where else do you have feathers?

check it out, I’ve got weird feet too!

Whoa! Is that from a magic accident!? Crazy!!

omg ur disgustingggggg!!!!

you fucking freak!

ahahahaha no way your real. You’re like a chicken!!!!

can you send me a pic of your chicken feet? They’re so freaky I wanna show my friend!

you ever jerked a guy off with those? Do you want to?

She stared at the picture of the penis in her inbox with disgust, is this how normal people communicated? Why were all these people she didn’t know suddenly messaging her anyway? It was already past midnight, didn’t they have anything better to do? She exited her messages and found there had been a series of throwback posts from NRC Halloween, #ChickenChallenge was trending again. She sighed and closed the application, having lived through that once had been enough, she had no desire to repeat the experience online.

Idia still hadn’t texted her back, but her mood was soured. Focusing on her alchemy work wasn’t enough to distract her from the constant buzzing coming from her phone.

“Fuck this” she grumbled, throwing her phone onto her bed before launching herself out the window. She didn’t need to wait for a text back from Idia, she’d just show up, the same as always.

As luck would have it, however, Idia was busy. He wasn’t gaming as was usual for him at this time of night, but was in the middle of a video chat with Vita, making it much more awkward to sit in the corner of his room quietly. She didn’t want to know what they talked about when it was just the two of them. She wandered back out of the dorm, hesitating in the Hall of Mirrors. It was late, she should just go home...but… he might still be awake too.

She knocked on the door tucked down the halls of Octavinelle dorm, silently cursing herself for going down there in the first place.

“Come in”

Jade welcomed her into his and Floyd’s shared room, a small smile painted on his lips. He was in his pajamas, though clearly invested in building a terrarium, plants and stones laid out carefully on his desk in front of him. She spied Floyd, his pajama shirt discarded on the floor beside his bed, fast asleep curled around one of his pillows facing away from them. He’d likely turned away from the lamp light Jade had kept on as he worked.

“Ahh, I guess it is too late, I’ll go” Yoru mumbled looking between them, she’d never gotten along comfortably with Jade.

“You can stay. I don’t mind, Yoru-san,” He held his hand out to offer Floyd's desk chair to her “Would you care to join me? Clearly something is the matter or you wouldn’t have come by so late. I do know how much you loathe to be here.”

She hesitated.

If she stayed, she’d have to deal with his casual cruelty and observant eye, if she left she may have to deal with another dozen messages about how she was a disgusting bird freak who really should be embarrassed to look like that, not that she needed the reminder. She sighed and crawled onto the chair, her legs tucked in against her body, arms clutched around them as she watched Jade work. He was meticulous.

Like everything he did, every movement was measured, everything planned well in advance to come together just as he imagined it.

“Is this what you normally spend your weekends doing?” She asked, her eyes following his graceful hands as he arranged some moss.

“Hmm, it is something I am quite fond of, yes.”

“Why? Wouldn’t it be better to keep a garden or something? What’s the point of this?”

He laughed quietly.

“This is what humans call ‘a hobby’ I believe. The point is to enjoy it, Yoru-san.”

She rested her chin on her knees, her eyes drifting across his desk to the discarded pieces of clothing on the floor near Floyd's bed. She felt Jade watching her and turned her gaze back to him.

“But why do you enjoy it? What’s so good about building a tiny garden in a jar?”

“You mean what’s so entertaining about creating and controlling an entire ecosystem one can hold in their hands? I wonder…”

She snorted.

“Ahhh, so it’s just something else you can manipulate. Makes sense.” She grinned at him, his hands expertly arranging rocks along the bottom of the jar.

“How cruel, Yoru-san, to suggest my innocent hobby is anything but… I can’t deny the implications though.”

“Hah, so you admit it then. No wonder you like it...” She chuckled, her eyes wandering once again to Floyds sleeping form, his back slowly rising and falling with his breaths.

“Admit it? No, I simply enjoy when certain things go as planned” He smirked at her. He’d caught her wandering eyes twice now, though she was trying to hide it. She hadn’t come here to see him, after all. She faced him again, not wanting to meet his eyes instead focusing on his hands.

“Do you ever add bones?”

“Oya? What is it you’re trying to imply, Yoru-san?”

“...They’d be good for the soil. I can bring you some, if you need.”

“I suppose that would raise fewer questions than gathering them myself...Thank you.”

“Mmmm” She nodded with her head still on her knees, content to watch him in silence. He was building a whole planet before her, a God playing with nature to whatever suited his whim. A rock here, moss there… no wait… over there instead. It was fascinating and tedious at the same time. His hands weaved patterns from nothing, a garden blossoming from his fingertips. She felt her attention slipping and closed her eyes, the soft tinkling of his tools being drowned out by the slow tide of Floyd's slumbering breath. She tilted her head towards him, her own breathing slowing to match his like the sea lazily lapping at the shore.

“Why don’t you lie down with him, Yoru-san? I don’t mind” Jades voice cut through her dreamy haze, jolting her upright.

“What? No. Huh?” She stuttered, horrified that Jade had somehow known the comfort she felt in that moment. “I’ve gotta go, I must have fallen asleep. Bye Jade” She hurried to leave, bumping into Floyd's desk in her haste. The precariously stacked books toppled over and fell to the floor, making an awful racket in the near silent bedroom.

“Oh shit, sorry!’ She whispered in a panic, hoping she hadn’t woken Floyd. She scooped to pick the books up, her wings threatening to topple the chair she had been sitting in just moments ago. Jade laughed as he watched her struggle.

“Fufufu, Yoru-san. You seem quite flustered, did something I say upset you? Perhaps my suggestion to sleep with Floyd-”

“No!” She yammered quickly. Too quickly. “No, I’m just tired. I have to go!” She pushed the books back onto the desk haphazardly and turned to leave, hoping that Jade hadn’t caught sight of her face, red as it was sure to be. How could he have known what she was thinking?

“Hmmpppfff” Floyd whined, wrapping his arms around her waist, his face buried in feathers. “You’re too loud, Fugu-chan, be more quiet”

Jade smirked at the pair of them as Yoru struggled to free herself from his grasp. Floyd whined into her back, dragging her into his bed so he could go back to sleep.

“Yoru-san, it’s better if you don’t fight him, he can be quite insistent when he wants something” She knew he was right. To get free she’d have to peel him off of her, and with how tightly he held her it would be hard, Floyd really was too damn strong. She sighed and stopped resisting, feeling her feet leave the floor as he flipped her over him to settle her between his body and the wall.

He murmured wordlessly as he shifted around her wings, careful not to pull out any feathers accidentally. He settled between them, his head resting slightly above hers, his face nestled in her hair, body pressed tightly against hers. She was glad Jade couldn’t see her anymore, she could feel him watching them still, but with their faces turned away from him he wouldn’t be able to read her expression. She felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest, she was sure Floyd must have felt it too, though if he did he made no mention of it. This wasn’t what she’d had in mind when she had come over, all she had wanted was to chat a bit, to forget about the people on magicam trying to ruin her night. She had to admit though… This was nice too. Ever since spring break they’d been more comfortable with each other physically, Floyd often clinging to her whenever he slept over, but so far that hadn’t left the confines of her bedroom. No one ever saw how often she clung back, she’d made sure to disengage from his grasp before he woke whenever she found herself too near him. It was much too embarrassing to be found like this, her face burning again knowing that Jade was probably enjoying himself immensely, proven right yet again.

The lamp clicked off, Jade finally retiring, Yoru felt herself finally relaxing. Her body jolted as tension left her, and she laid her arms across Floyd's, drawing lazy circles on the backs of his hands with her fingers. He sighed into her hair and pressed himself against her a little tighter at her touch, fast asleep once more. Yoru closed her eyes knowing it wasn’t safe to fall asleep where she lay, she had to get up and go home or she’d never hear the end of it. 5 more minutes then you have to go home she told herself, but it really was very comfortable, laying with Floyd like this.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

“Euuuggggghhhh Jaaaaade, turn your alarm offffff” Floyd complained loudly. He was close...too close. Yoru’s eyes snapped open with a start, she’d fallen asleep in his arms.

“Ahhh, I must have forgotten to turn it off. My apologies, you two fufufu”

“Mmmmm~ good morning, Fugu-chan” Floyd murmured as he tightened himself around her once more. She felt him smile as he nuzzled his face into the nape of her neck, her face blazed red once more.

#twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #yoru crowley #jade leech #floyd leech #dumb and dumber #canon x oc #spent all afternoon working on my new oc i forgot i wanted to post this today #whoops #amon coming soon tho

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chimtaera · 4 years ago

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imagine barista taehyung.

ok first things first.

taehyung runs the most aesthetic, atmospheric, coffee shop of all time.

doesn’t matter if he doesn’t own the place, he’s gonna decorate.

paintings of the walls by local artist and van gogh alike.

boardgames and puzzles on the shelves for rainy days.

will play uno with you on slow days.

and you know the playlist is gonna be on point.

also the most experimental with his drinks.

like he’s gotten in trouble for experimenting with people’s orders, so now he gives away his frankendrinks for free.

and outgoing as he is he’s on first name basis with everyone who’s visited more than twice.

he won’t remember your order, but he’ll remember your name, and/or give you a nickname, and/or draw you a correlating doodle on your to-go cup.

you’re probably a tired student in need of a quiet place to read and/or write your assignments.

you’re gonna need caffeine too, so you might as well camp out in a coffee shop.

taehyung is chatty and wants to know what you’re studying for, what assignment you’re working on, and will you try his iced pumpkin-spice dirty chai latte with cinnamon?

and this being a perfect opportunity to procrastinate, so you strike up a friendship with the barista.

thus you end up being designated test-subject for his new and exciting concoctions.

dw they’re only undrinkable 2% of the time. you’ll be fine.

taehyung thinks ur cute, but u r kinda clueless.

cue montage of taehyung trying to hint that he’s into you and you completely missing out because you’re either buried in your work or just think he’s being nice:

hearts in all your drinks, in the foam, in the sprinkles, in the whipped cream, even in the chocolate sauce. but that doesn’t have to mean anything right?? that’s just what baristas do, he’s just practicing his craft, right??

brings you pastries and cookies for free, making excuses that there’s something wrong with it so he was gonna throw it out anyway.

“this cookie has too many chocolate chips, you can have it”

“is this pastry too sweet? you decide.”

“we can’t sell this, it’s on fire. here you go.”

“a time traveller licked this one.”

but he’s just trying to cheer you up because he sees how hard you’re studying, right???

dedicates chat baker songs to you, but he’s just being silly haha right ???

gazes longingly at you while he’s steaming the milk until it’s ruined, lmao he’s so easily distracted. totally not in love with you hahaha ha ha h a right???

except he totally is.

and you totally are in love with him too, but you don’t wanna seem like you’re assuming things or make him uncomfortable at his place of work because he’s a service worker yanno, he’s paid to be nice.

but one evening you’ve got an assignment due that night, and you were up all of last night writing, and you’re so exhausted no amount of coffee can keep awake and oopsy daisy you’ve fallen asleep at your table in the coffee shop.

and you won’t know this, but taehyung switches playlists to something quieter and tries to steam milk as quietly as possible which isn’t very that shit is noisy, but it’s the thought that counts yanno.

anyway it’s late, and eventually he has to close the shop and so he wakes you, with coffee of course.

and you panic because you only have an hour until you have to turn in your paper and it’ll take you half that time to get home.

taehyung is quick to comfort you though, it takes him about an hour to close up shop, and you’re more than welcome to stay until then.

this is lowkey a lie, it takes taehyung only half an hour to close up, but he wants to help you out and also just wants to be around you.

and you’re still sleepy and so grateful you blurt some nonsense along the lines of “omg thank you let me buy you coffee some time!!”

and he laughs and you blush because obviously he has more than enough coffee.

but, to your surprise he accepts. “as long as it’s not here”, he says. and he may be blushing a little too.

so he takes his time, cleans extra thoroughly, goes through some of the routines that are only necessary once a week, humming along to some soft jazz.

and the sleep has done you good, so you manage to tie up all your loose ends and complete your paper, with enough time spare to read through it once and correct some spelling. truly a miracle.

and imagine, as you leave together and he locks up your jacket gets caught in the door and he has to help you get it loose and oops he’s really close now

so close you can count his eyelashes and you can’t breathe he’s so pretty!!?!?!? and he smells like freshly ground coffee beans and cookies still warm from the oven, honestly he’s mouthwatering.

and he’s like “hey, actually, neither of us has eaten, you wanna get dinner right now instead of coffee later?” and hells yes you do, suddenly reminded that you are absolutely starving.

so you agree but he’s still so close, like all up in your personal space and you don’t mind exactly, but it makes your heart beat out of control and you’re pretty sure you’re blushing so hard you’re radiating heat.

and then he asks “so, do i have to wait until after the date to kiss you or..?”

and you choke on nothing because, “wait, we’re going on a date?”

“yes, i just decided.” and he steps impossibly closer. “i wanna date you, do you wanna date me?”

“i mean, yes, yeah, of course, i-”

“okay, then i’m just gonna kiss you now.”

and he does, and it’s just a sweet and gentle press of lips against yours, but he’s so close and warm and smells so nice it’s pretty much heavenly.

and after dinner he walk you home and kisses you some more before ushering you inside to get some much needed rest.

needless to say, studying at the coffee shop is a little more distracting after that.

taehyung will straight up push your books out of your lap and sit on you to pepper you with kisses, at least once a day.

and you finally notice the hearts in all your drinks, that are meant especially for you.

but also a lot more enjoyable!!

anyway, nsfw under the cut.

taehyung more like tae-HUNG (sorry.)

i feel like taehyung would be a lot of fun in bed.

he’s confident, he’s fun, he’s adventurous, inventive, and a little weird, and i think those things all play out pretty well in the bedroom.

or, yanno, shower, bathroom floor, hallway mirror, storage closet, in a boat, with a goat, etc.

best of all he’s very attentive, he’ll pay so close attention to you, very intense at times.

every time you have a reaction he likes he will grin and chuckle to himself and do whatever he did again and again and again until you’re begging him to cum.

also gets really horny at like the weirdest and most inconvenient times and will get really whiny and clingy and subtly rub up against you until you can sneak away somewhere and get each other off.

imagine his as soon as he has a break from work giving you a look like “now.” and ur like “now??” and he’s like “nOW.”

don’t tell his boss but he will go down on you in the storage closet if you let him.

relieve some stress, you know, you’re studying so hard you deserve it!!

he’s very convincing.

like i said, pretty adventurous. so he’ll want to try out new positions and stuff all the time.

not because regular sex is boring, but because it’s fun to explore!

he’s more than happy to just sit back and let you ride him on the sofa.

he’s pretty verbal too, and you can expect a lot of praise.

bottom line taehyung is hot as hell, and sex with him would be too.

lucky you!

#taehyung smut #bts smut #kpop smut #taehyung imagine #bts imagines #kpop imagines #barista taehyung #taehyung scenarios #taehyung #bts scenarios #BTS au #bts fluff #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #bts taehyung

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honorable-wanderings · 4 years ago

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Word of Honor - Episode 2 Part 2 - Mirror Lake has more Fire than expected

In an interesting twist of fate Zhou Zishu decides to take the nice munchkin up on his offer to crash at his place for a while.

Thumbs up my dood

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Now the fuck are these guys?

Oh cool. Thanks.

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See? Children chants are creepy! Always!

But especially when driven by plort! (plort was a typo but I’m Keeping it.)

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Finally people treating our man with common decency and respect! Who knew he just needed a fancy bookmark?

Oop. Nevermind

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I have discovered the joys of fucking with people and I’m never going back again

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A fuck this guy again. I’m assuming we’re not supposed to like him? But I don’t like him either way. He has no... je ne sais quoi

He boring. Basic. Bland.

It ain’t good.

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Oh and also you know how you wanted us to keep tabs on Zhou ZiShu? Oh well um.. it’s going great! Great! Yeah... except for... we can’t find him.

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Well if this ain’t a whole ass mood?

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Midnight already? Time for the pain pins to poke me painfully!

This sure is a weird version of Cinderella

gross

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Okay okay so normally the 7 torture nails block your chi? I’m understanding? So you can no longer do martial arts. And he would rather die than lose all his martial arts so he put the nails in slowly so that he could still have SOME of his martial arts. But the point of the nails is still that he wants to die and feels he deserves to be punished as well? Right? So having his martial arts helps mediate the pain which lessons the punishment

and if it weren’t for the punishment aspect couldn’t he have just like... faked the nails? Or would they have been able to tell? I mean this is all dramatic and all but where are your motivations Zhou ZiShu?

work with me here

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Hey?! That’s not sunlight?!?

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Love me a good silhouette shot

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And suddenly everything is on fire???

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Rude

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After watching like 4 people get killed in front of him and a lot of fire and ransacking our protragonists finally thinks perhaps he should get himself involved.

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How is everything a fucking boomerang???

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Pffffff I love it

Tunk thunk

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In another interesting development, the boat man from before is important?????

Also our boy is doing his best with that hat

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Okay I know he’s like a master of disguise and all but like he doesn’t seem to be doing much to actually... hide? Still love his wiggly sword style

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Um take the kid and fucking run maybe????

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*stalks you from a not very inconspicuous distance*

Didja miss me?

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Hate to see you leave but love to watch you go

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Fuck I hate being disarmed.

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This place looks strangely similar to the woodshed...

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The fuck are you?

Wouldn’t you like to know?

Yes I would. That’s why I asked

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There’s just nothing quite like a near death experience to bring people together.

----------

Take this kid and run!

But sir, you don’t seem to understand! I am the Best Boy! I simply cannot just leave you to die.

----------

Don’t worry kid! You can’t get in trouble anymore! Your dad is fuckin dead! Surely that’ll bring you some comfort!

----------

Random Local Boatman is surprisingly honorable and happens to be in debt to the father of the kid who was nice to you that morning.

Life sure is weird.

----------

He doing him best

---------

Though it is absolutely understandable, he reacts to being touched by that paper the way I react to walking into a spider web.

-------

Gramps is a badass

-----------

I do have to say these guys do seem to be much better trained than the usual evil henchmen. And you have to appreciate their aesthetic.

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Seriously!! The best boy!!!!!

This man has helped in a little bit exactly once to repay him for his own kindness an this little teenager is willing to just die for him without hesitation.

Like no, son, the two old men are doing this so that YOU live. You have it backwards.

----------

Surpriiiiise I’m stalking you too!

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Oh no the henchmen are falling into the drawing things out to emotionally torture their prey thing. Don’t y’all know that giving the protagonist time to recover and/or study your moves is how you die? Did you even GO to henchman school?

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ahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

Just.. omg. The noise he made. “Dwaaah!!!”

------------

Okay kid I know you’re young and under a lot of stress and never really got into the whole martial arts training thing but grandpa is doing better than you literally laying down and covered in cuts. Just sayin

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Aw nuts

---------------

*ding*

Please take your protagonist out of the oven as cooktime has been completed.

----------

The fighting editing style seems to be a weird splice of nice crisp slowmotion view of the action and spliced together jump cuts and zooms that make for an odd kinda hard to follow combination. But at least I guess they tend to end on ‘cool pose x”

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“Hey, Beggar! You’re good at martial arts. Somehow this surprises me even though I already knew that???”

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Unexpected trust fall ends better than anticipated

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Das gaee

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He’s bendin’ over backwards for you!!

--------

Unexpected but definitely varied emotional investments on the fact that Gramps is dying.

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Look at him being all humble.

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Ooh he could be in a medical drama. That is the perfect like sad close your eyes and head shake no I’m sorry he’s not gonna make it. Bravo.

Very delicate.

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“Don’t fuckin’ touch me”

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I’m guilt tripping you into a found family and you’re gonna like it punk

---------

Sick dude, whats your name? Shit no one’s asked me that before somehow I’m not ready..

Uh.uh... Zhou Xu.

Nailed it.

“Zhou Xu? Naw that doesn’t sound right.”

-----------------

May you learn from this never to underestimate, rob, and otherwise harass your local old boat man for you never know when he may force you through guilt and honor into taking on a ward and a quest under penalty of being haunted by his old ass ghost forever

----------

Uncle Li has died and most of the group is much more upset about it than they would have anticipated that morning.

Poor ChenLing is having a rough day.

------------

RIP Uncle Li. So much for living a carefree couple of years lying drunk in the sun.

It looks like even now you can’t escape your responsibilities Zhou Xu.

----------------

Group of hereto-unknown men arrive in poor time to stop the bonfire

------------

“What’s wrong?” Um... maybe... fire??

------------

I say again, thank you for labeling the people I’m supposed to remember.

Also, why did y’all have to wait for orders before checking out the fuckin boats?

Y’all dumb.

---------------------

Hey, Wen KeXing, Not trying to throw off your groove or anything but maybe a funeral isn’t the best time for flirting? Perhaps? Maybe?

I know you don’t have an ‘off’ switch but maybe a pause button?

-----------------

“are you done?”

“Never.”

----------

It deadass took y’all this long to introduce yourself? You’ve been stalking him all this time and you never thought to go “btw my name Wen KeXing? Comment t’appelles tu?” Come on man

---------------

Our best boy is having his not best day. D:

Don’t worry. Your new family will stalk/care for you.

-----------------

“A-Xiang! Make some food!” “No shit Sherlock I already did.” “My ideas are the best. :D”

--------------

Eat your food!

Eat your food!!

Eat your FOOD!!!

EAT YOUR FOOD!!!!

WILL SOMEONE PLEASE EAT YOUR GODDAMN FOOD?

-------------

“Oh my GOD we get it you can fucking read! Oh my god.”

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If I prove I can read too will you pass me a damn pancake?

Fuck yeah.

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GOD DAMN IT SOMEONE EAT FOR THE LOVE OF FUCK

------------

Um excuse you this group only has room for one little bitch and it ain’t fuckin you, you hear me little girl?

------------

I am very sorry. Thank you for saving my life. I would like to re-assert my status as “best boy”.

HEY WHAT THE FUCK????

-------------------

Wen KeXing: 👀

----------------------------

Please increase your friendship level before asking personal questions.

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Nya Nya you were useless when your home was burned to the ground and your family was killed waaaaah how pathetic are you!!

Can you fucking not?

My B.

--------------------

BEST BOY INJURED THIS IS NOT A DRILL

----------

Our Man Zhou ZiShu respects bodily autonomy!

Do not touch my fuckin’ boy or I will fight you!

-----------------

And we end the episode with Wen KeXing being horny on main!

Sir, keep it together. There are children present.

#Word of honor #Shanhe Ling #zhou zishu #Wen Kexing #zhang chengling #Gu Xiang #Writing WoH #spoilers #Episode 2

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yoichichi · 4 years ago

Text

Bunny’s 200 follower event

request: Hey, congratulations on 200 followers, you truly deserve them :) ! Matchup for aot please? I'm bi, a preference towards girls irl but men in anime and fiction. I'm Intp, 5w6, true neutral. I like drawing, swimming, video games, sleeping. I have some weird "hobbies" like sitting in front of my washing machine when it's done and smelling all the clean clothes, taking photos of every single cat I see, sitting alone in my rooftop and listening to music late at night. I also have a lot of scented stuff laying around because I'm a sucker for nice clean smells. I consider myself smart, Im not social and I don't like crowds. Although I might seem cold or uninterested at first, I'm kind, trusting and understanding to those I open up to. I can be pretty lazy, however I always finish important stuff and never leave my room dirty. I'm 5"8, with an athletic and slightly curvy body type. I want an understanding and loyal partner. Preferably introverted, or at least someone that doesn't mind having more casual dates at home. I'm the "bottom" in a relationship so I would also look for someone who is more of a "top". I've found myself attracted to multiple ISTPs, but also other INTPs. I wouldn't want a loud, super extroverted or hot headed partner. (ex.bakugo, connie) I'm not very good at expressing emotions so I would prefer someone that can be patient with me and won't move things too fast. Sorry this is long, and thank you for doing this :>❤️

a/n: hi luv! Thanks for sending in the first request! And please don’t apologize for the length at all! I hope you enjoy! This is also not canonverse! I write these in mind with modern!au if that makes sense :)

Warnings: nsfw-ish themes but generally sfw

Reading your request, you have been matched with...

(づ￣ ³￣)づ Reiner Braun

Ok first things first with you and Reiner: naps naps naps

This man is big, warm, definitely smells like fresh laundry, and definitely likes to cuddle. So the fact you like to sleep? Yeah napping is becoming his favorite pastime with you

Definitely a big spoon type of guy but would also love it with your face buried in his chest, you can also smell how good he smells this way!

Tell him he smells good and he ~will get flustered idc

Ok but this man would send photos of cats to you

He’d be on a run and see a cat and immediately whip out his phone to send you a Snapchat, that’s like the only time he uses it at this point LMAO

Reiner would be such an understanding partner and LOVE stay at home dates

He’s definitely a bit of a homebody so getting to have cute little dates where you guys cook some stupid fancy dinner together are a must

He’s on the quieter side like you in public but definitely takes charge in the relationship with initiating things

The type to order for you in public and remember your order exactly but still looks at you after every time like, “that’s what you wanted, right?”

Please kiss his cheek and reassure him it’s correct it’ll make his year

The top in the relationship for sure, but also very soft with you

So even though he’s taking charge, he’ll always be asking for reassurance you’re alright and checking in with you constantly

He wouldn’t admit it but he would want you to draw him LMAO

Like he’d also just be so obsessed with watching you draw

Is he staring at you or the drawing? I don’t know if you catch him staring at you he will think about it for a week and get red every time it crosses his mind

I don’t see him as a big video game player but he would definitely watch you play them and just be so 👁👄👁 and ask SO many questions that I feel Iike would just make it even more confusing for him LMAO

Reiner is the king of understanding and patience

He will go as slow as you need and listen and do his best to support you as best he can

Late night cuddle convos are his fav bye ✋🏼

Your vibe reminds me of...

Another suitable match for you would be...

(づ￣ ³￣)づ Armin Arlert

This man is another VERY understanding and supportive person

Now before anyone says anything this man is not a bottom and definitely takes charge in a relationship idc

Service top service top service top anyways moving on

He loves taking care of people and that includes you

He’s very attentive and good at knowing when your social battery is running low and is taking you home and scooping you into his arms so fast

Another big spoon type of guy

He loves having his face buried in the back of your neck with your back against his chest and his arms wrapped around you

Something about feeling you that close and secure to him just hits different for him

Candle lover omg

He’s a chronic bath and body works gift card holder it’s almost a problem LMAO

Sometimes he goes to the store and if he see’s a candle he think you might like he will buy it and bring it home like :) here, smell :) and just be holding it out at your face like :) you like it?

Ok idk why but he definitely likes to cup your face

Like you’ll be on the couch chillin and he’ll get up and stretch to go to the kitchen or something and see you and just 🥺🤲🏼

“You’re so cute 🥺🤲🏼” and it’s like, grandma aggressive

Like he’s squishing your cheeks and moving your head around and talking so loud and then leaves a stupid big kiss on your forehead and then walks off after like what he did was completely justified and normal

Ok so being with Armin does come with eren LMAO

Eren would want to play video games with you ~so bad

Cause you’re his besties partner!! He wants to make you feel like you’re apart of the group!

Armin absolutely loves if you beat him if that’s an element in the game

He finds it 1. Hilarious and 2. Hot LMAO

You can’t tell me he’d be kinda 🙂😏😳🙂 if you beat Eren

He doesn’t know if it’s his pride or what but something about it...

Ok obviously he loves swimming with you like, c’mon

He doesn’t care where, recreational pool? Check ✅ Beach? Check ✅ lake? Check ✅

This man just loves doing things with you and he loves swimming so :)

He will lather you in sunscreen at the beach whether you think you need it or not

You couldn’t say anything to him about it

He’d just be putting the sunscreen in his hands and then give you a ~look

He’d just raise his eyebrows and purse his lips and look so DONE just-

“(y/n), give me your arm.”

Loves rubbing your arms while you cuddle idc

He’s very caring and patient with you and his favorite way to show he cares is through his devotion and affection 💓

Your vibe reminds me of...

eek! Here’s the first post in my event! I really hope you liked it! Please let me know your thoughts!

Requests are still open until February 26th 8:00 pm PST

-🐇out

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zmediaoutlet · 4 years ago

Text

in support of wildfire relief, @jesusonthetortillas donated $10, and requested pre-series pining!Sam, with diary discovery. Thank you for donating!

to get your own personalized fic, please see this post. (no longer taking prompts)

After his little lesson from Sabrina, the hot librarian's assistant, it's not hard at all for Dean to find what he's looking for. He drops Sam off at the library the way he usually does, and flirts with Sabrina on his way out like he usually does, but instead of going to his shift at the construction site like Sam thinks he's going to, he circles back around, through the library stacks on the main floor, and waits like a dingus by YOUNG ADULT – ADVENTURE, watching the back of Sam's nerdy, nerdy head where he's hunched at the computer banks, getting up to no kind of good.

It wouldn't have come to this, Dean thinks, if Sam weren't so—he doesn't even know how to think about it. He doesn't know when to pin it down. They were doing okay. Sam ran away, a few years back, but since then he's—well, he's always bitching at Dad and bitching at Dean half the time too, but he's done good in school, he's done his part with the hunting. It was sometime at that last school. September in Maryland. Dad was gone a lot of the time, because Dad always was, and Dean went with him on about half the hunts but Sam got to stay behind, got to just call in research tips and last-minute lore checks, and Dean thought he was pretty happy, as much as Sam ever seemed happy. Chill, just doing his homework at the rickety desk, not complaining any more than usual about Dean's usual dinners of fast food or Kraft or Top Ramen. Seventeen and getting tall and mellowing out, and finally hanging out with his little brother was just fine. Dean thought.

That was two towns ago, three months ago. Dean picks his nails with his pocket knife, leaning on one elbow by the Hardy Boys. Sam's still working away on the computer. Anymore he always is. After school he's always angling for Dean to bring him to the library and if Dean won't drive him then Sam walks, even when it's raining, like it is half the time in frickin Washington, anyway. Always finding a free computer and settling in and disappearing onto the internet. Not coming home until the library closes, and moody if Dean's there when he walks in, and Dean just—he thought they were past all this crap. He thought that maybe Sam had—settled. Figured out how things were, how things had to be.

Well. Either way. Sabrina, with the glasses and the sexy dreads and the legs that very much went all the way to the floor under those wide-legged pants she was always wearing—she gave Dean a computer lesson, free of charge, and he's got a way in, now. Sam won't talk to him, won't hardly look at him. Dean chews the inside of his cheek, watching Sam type on the battered public machine. Sam's not the only one who knows how to research a case, in this family. Dean's going to figure this out. He's gonna fix it.

A bell rings, at five o'clock, like the end of a school day. Sam jerks like he's been shocked and looks up at the ceiling, clearly annoyed. He's been engrossed for two hours, typing away, reading. Real frickin' boring, on Dean's end, but he stayed put. Like staking out a house for a job—nothing to do but wait. He takes a few steps backwards, makes sure the shelves hide his face, and there's a general rustling as people leave—a mom and her kid, and tears because the kid's favorite book wasn't here—and when Dean looks again the computer banks are empty, and Sabrina's checking out the last few patrons, and Sam's—gone. Walking home in the rain, little goth that he is. Fine with Dean, if it gives him a few minutes.

When he settles into the chair Sam was in it's still warm. He opens up Netscape Navigator, the library's homepage welcoming him in a friendly kinda way—big yellow smiley face, that's fun. He goes to where Sabrina taught him, in the menu at the top: view, and then History, where it turns out the computer saves all the webpages you went to just in case you need to find them again, and there—oh, jackpot. Gotcha, Sam.

All kinds of crap. A weather website, a bunch of Ask Jeeves searches, something called DiffEQandU. Some mythology stuff, too, and Dean goes to one that turns out to be a history of kitsune. That's something, at least—Sam doing his important homework, in there with whatever other crap he's been working on.

The last bunch of results are all pages from some website called Livejournal, which Dean's never heard of. He clicks one at random and is brought to—huh. A splashy red page, with a big picture on top of kids graduating from high school in those dorky blue robes. He scrolls down, skimming, looking for the important details among the mess, but it's hard to tell what it is. A forum, it looks like. Kind of like the ones Dean's been on where people trade car parts, or swap ghost stories. A square box, dated yesterday, that says WHEN IS HARVARD'S APP REVIEW???, and a panicky paragraph where some chick might die if she doesn't get in. Another, the day before, with questions about the SAT, and a link that says 43 comments that, when Dean clicks it, brings him to a bunch of apparently teenagers all giving each other tips from some test they're worried about taking.

College. Dean's stomach curls into a knot. It's all—college stuff, applications and tests and deadlines. The usernames are all weird shit: tmntpizzadelivery, quistis4ever, willyshakes. Dean can't tell—is one of these kids Sam?

Sabrina's nearly done with her line of book nerds. Dean rubs a hand over his mouth and clicks away, tries another of the Livejournal results in the history. Another forum, this one apparently about—soccer? Jesus, Sam. Another forum, this one about Conan the Barbarian, and that one's at least easy to snort at, with people's shitty drawings of Red Sonja and excitement about a possible remake. There are personal pages, though, too—one titled Delaware Sucks, in which some girl complains about her life—one titled trent reznor rules my soul, featuring a goth kid who won't shut up about Nine Inch Nails and his bitch of a mother. Another, with a plain blue-and-grey color scheme, with the title on the road, and a new post from today—from an hour ago—with the text just reading, I don't know what to do anymore, and six comments underneath, waiting.

"Hey—ready to go?" Sabrina says.

Dean jerks in his seat. Sabrina's raising her eyebrows at him, behind her glasses, a little smile curving her mouth that promises something a little better than book dust and computer lessons. "I'm always ready," Dean says, grinning, and gets her to roll her eyes—yeah, he's in there—but his eyes drag back to the webpage, the posts. He scrolls down, quick—post after post, waiting to be read. "Real quick—borrow a pen?"

She has one—she's a sexy librarian, of course she has one—and he uncrumples a receipt from his jacket pocket and writes down the URL, careful to get it right. rearviewmirror.livejournal.com. He wants to click on the comments, but.

"Come on, the movie's starting soon," Sabrina says, and Dean closes Netscape, folds the receipt very carefully into his pocket, stands up. He's got a date to make out with a hot chick in the back of a movie theater, and maybe a little more, and Sam's whole Eeyore routine has to take a number. Dean will figure it out. He's got an easy way to run a stakeout, now.

December 4

Still can't decide. Anyone else going through this?

current mood: agonized current music: motorhead (AGAIN)

Comments:

teenagehamburger: Yes!! I still don't know where I want to go. Mom wants me to stay close to home, but Delaware sucksssss. Where are you looking?

rearviewmirror: Anywhere. TBH I'm still not even sure I should apply.

teenagehamburger: WTF?? Of course you should!! College is the big escape, remember?

December 1

He's driving me INSANE

current mood: annoyed current music: motorhead (again)

Comments:

bloodofreptile: lol you got it bad

rearviewmirror: right now I just want to hit him with a brick, actually

teenagehamburger: LOL!! Sorry :( :(

rearviewmirror: Sigh. I guess it could be worse, right?

teenagehamburger: Definitely!! He could be the cute cheerleader from 4th period who doesn't know I exist….

coppertonebuttgirl: oh, sorry hammie, that sucks <3

November 29

The thing is, I don't even want anything crazy? I just want to be—me. Just me, without anyone breathing down my neck. Trig teacher says I could get in to one of the top ten, but I just want to go *anywhere that's not here*

current mood: restless current music: Pearl Jam (home alone!)

Comments:

bloodofreptile: i hear you lol. why don't they get that the rules and hovering and all that shit just makes us want to run faster?

rearviewmirror: Exactly! My teacher keeps talking about college like it's a place to expand your mind and stuff, and that's fine, but lately I just want to expand my horizons. Kind of ironic?

bloodofreptile: yeah lol haven't you lived like everywhere?

rearviewmirror: Feels like it.

teenagehamburger: Is You Know Who going to college too?

November 18

I feel like it shouldn't be this hard. Normal people have it easy.

current mood: indescribable current music: silence

Comments:

coppertonebuttgirl: feel free to talk to me anytime <3

November 3

Dad's gone again. Didn't say goodbye. We went to the movies and he gave me a beer, and we watched the stars for an hour in the parking lot even though it was freaking freezing. Happier than I've been in a while. Don’t want it to change but it has to change.

current mood: current music:

Comments:

teenagehamburger: OMG, that sounds so romantic?? I can't believe you were drinking!! Aren't you underage?

bloodofreptile: lol relax it's not a big deal

teenagehamburger: I'm just saying!!

coppertonebuttgirl: wish it wasn't hard for you <3

bloodofreptile: dude you've got to say something

rearviewmirror: I literally can't.

bloodofreptile: ok but it's gonna drive you crazy. do you even know if he's gay? start with that maybe

The posts go on, and on. Reading backwards through time, it's a strange piecing-together. rearviewmirror is active in about ten communities and Dean reads through all of them, that week, bringing an illicit cup of coffee in to the library when he doesn't have a construction shift. He reads with his hand over his mouth and by the time he has to get off the computer he's got a headache, every time, his throat dry and aching.

The journal's been active for six months. Dean clicks through the pages to the very start and reads it in the right order, his heart pounding oddly in his ears. I don't know what this place is. A journal, I guess, considering the name. I just need somewhere to talk where no one will listen.

It's not a pouring-out, like some teenage girl doodling hearts around her crush's initials. He holds back. Never says exactly where they're living, never mentions names. To figure out who it was, you'd have to be one of two other people, and Dean knows that Dad can barely turn on a computer, much less go onto the internet and pore over some teenage angst-fest. Dean spends half his time wishing he were the same. Maybe if he hadn't asked Sabrina for help.

At home, Sam's the same as he always is. Comes home after his own stint at the library, eats the dinner Dean gives him. He reads, most of the time. Does his schoolwork. Dean says, careful one night, "Hey, True Lies is on. Wanna watch?" but Sam only gives him a strange, uncertain look and says, "No, I have a paper due," and he shuts himself into their bedroom with the door very firmly closed, and Dean sits there on the couch alone with a beer and Jamie Lee Curtis being sexy as hell on the fuzzy TV, and he—he doesn't know what to do.

He remembers that day, the looking at the stars day. It was November 2. A nasty anniversary, in their family, and yeah, Dad left. Dean got it. He'd thought Sam did, too, by now. It was better to have Dad gone, on a hunt, than trying to drink himself to death at home in the apartment. At least he was working, that way, and not hurting himself. To distract both of them, Dean picked Sam up from the library and they went straight to the movie theater—the Blair Witch sequel, with Dean providing running commentary about how dumb they were about dealing with ghosts, which at least made Sam grin and elbow him to shut up, even if he was laughing too, the liar—and, yeah, afterward they'd picked up Taco Bell, and then after that Dean swung through the liquor store drive-thru and they parked out, and he let Sam have a beer, and they both sat on the trunk and leaned back against the cold glass or the rear window and didn't really talk, much. The stars, big above them. The night, quiet. Sam was pressed against his side, chilled out and not bitching about anything, and Dean tucked his hand behind his head and he was pretty content with the world, right then. His brother, here, and a six-pack waiting, and nothing happening right then that'd hurt them. Sam smiled at him, that night, before he went to bed. It was sweet—like he used to be, when he was little—and Dean had ended up falling asleep on the couch, watching the public access, but his dreams that night were—good, like they never were on the night of November 2, and it had felt… okay.

do you even know if he's gay?

The college prep—that wasn't a surprise. It hurt but it didn't shock. All his worrying, all his whining, wanting to be 'free'—whatever free meant—it was all part and parcel of the last decade. Dean should've known better. Sam wasn't mellowing out. Sam was a stubborn little shit and he'd always wanted to have a life that wasn't—this.

The gay thing. That hit different. One of the communities Sam followed was for lesbian and gay youth, talking about their coming out experiences. Sam didn't post there much but he commented, asked questions. How do you know? What does it feel like? The hamburger girl was from there, a lesbian chick trapped in some Delaware high school. Encouraging, commiserating. They talked about how college would be their big escape, their chance to go to a big city and find their way. Meet people. Only apparently hamburger girl was crushing on the cheerleader from fourth period, and Sam—

Dean makes an excuse the next day. Saturday: no work for Dean, no school for Sam. Alone in the apartment together, all day, after Dean's week of reading—he can't face it. "Where are you going?" Sam asks, eight a.m. with his hair fucked up and coffee clenched between his hands, and Dean looks at him in his pajama pants and his ratty hand-me-down shirt, skinny and tall and hiding things Dean can't handle, and he says, snappish in a way he doesn't mean to be—"Out, Sam, for christ's sake—" and sees Sam's expression shutter before the apartment door slams behind him.

He goes for a drive, out of town. Cold, threatening rain like it always is, but it won't snow. Out—past the airport, past the suburbs, out to Black Lake. They killed the nymph that was drowning people out here, him and Dad, when they first arrived. Sam stayed home. Sullen on the other end of the line when Dean called to say they'd finished the job, and they were getting burgers for dinner, and did Sam want one. Whatever, Sam had said, like even answering was an imposition. That was November, too.

He sits on the hood, heels braced on the bumper, arms locked around his knees. The lake looks cold. He wants to sink into it, wants to feel that freezing shock, like the polar bear dive he did on a dare back in Illinois. The way the brain just goes blank, tv-static filling up everything and washing all the shit away. All the weird crap you don't want to think about, frozen, and the only thing to focus on just—getting out.

He's not going to dive into the lake. It's nine in the morning and he's wearing his only pair of boots. He hasn't gone out with Sabrina all week. He's been piss-poor at the construction site and McMillan nearly brained him with a hammer yesterday, because Dean wasn't paying attention, and the foreman screamed at him in front of the whole crew. None of that feels close, right now. He breathes the wet-clogged air, cold and mossy, turning his ring restlessly on his finger.

Back at that high school they went to in Raton, Mrs. Encinas in 6th period English told Dean he'd be smart, if he didn't just give up all the time. All he needed to do was take the time to read between the lines, to actually interpret what he was reading and not take things on face value. He made some joke. He doesn't remember what it was, now. Like he didn't know what the fuckin Great Gatsby was saying, when he hoped and hoped and never got what he wanted. When happiness always felt like it was about a thousand miles away, on the other side of a lake he couldn't cross, and hope went out like a snuffed light. Dean can read what's not there. He's done it his whole life.

The problem: Sam's little online journal went back six months. They've lived in four towns, in that time. He never uses names, never puts up anything that'd really identify him. They were in Maryland, August-September-first of October, and it was a comment right at the end of August, on the community for gay kids, talking to the hamburger girl: I like someone, too. He doesn't know. He. The same he that carried forward, through all his journal entries, from Maryland to Washington across whole breadth of the country. He likes classic rock. He drives me nuts. He gave me a beer, and I wanted—

Dean curls forward over his knees, sliding his hands into his hair, breathing hard between his knees. He can read between the lines and he wishes that he couldn't. He wishes—god. What? That Sam would just meet a nice girl and fuck her and get it out of his system? Except how he was writing, it wasn't like it was new. It was something he'd been thinking about. When did you know? had read one of the forum posts, and in the responses, among all the dumb teenage crap about formal dances and jerking off to the wrong person in the music video, there was a comment by username rearviewmirror that said, I broke my leg and he carried me to the car and I wanted to kiss him.

Sam broke his leg in July, the summer he turned fifteen. He'd been trying to stay quiet but he'd had this trapped whimper in his throat that he couldn't stop, and Dad had stayed behind to cover their backs and it had been left to Dean, to scoop Sam up, his whole body quivering with the shock—to hug him close between the trees, humid Georgia night making every place their skin touched slick with sweat—to let Sam cling to his neck, shuddering, and to put a hand on his back and whisper, hey, Sammy, it's not even that bad, huh? no bone sticking out, you did good. we're gonna get you a cast and I'm gonna draw you a great picture, okay, Cindy Crawford with her tits out, right there on your shin and Sam had been so shaky that his laugh sounded like he was crying, but he'd nodded against Dean's neck and chattered out sounds cool, Dean, and when Dean got him to the car Sam hadn't wanted to let him go—so they crawled into the backseat together, Sam still half in his lap and with his arms still tight around Dean's neck. Dad got into the front and frowned at Dean in the rearview, and Dean nodded, and when the car leapt forward Sam gasped and gripped at Dean's shirt when his leg got jostled, and Dean put his hand in Sam's hair and said, it's okay, you're okay, and Sam—wanted to kiss him.

He can't square it. It's like there's some twinned version of his brother, in this place Dean never knew existed. All these secrets he's been hoarding, this other person he's been. These wants that make him a stranger.

He goes back home with stuff for lunch around noon. Sam's reading, in the bedroom. "Got pb&j or grilled cheese," Dean calls, down the shotgun kitchen through the thin-carpeted hall, and Sam calls back, "I'm not hungry," which is a goddamn shit of a lie. He grows like an inch a day, he's never not hungry. Dean braces his hands on the counter and counts to five, in his head. He puts the bread away, and puts the cheese in the fridge. He goes into the living room and turns on the TV and it's college football, which is boring as hell, but it fills the apartment with noise. He wishes Dad were home. He wishes he were hunting.

The Huskies lose. Sam hasn't come out of the room, as far as Dean can tell. He's had—four beers? He looks at the table. Five. It's getting toward dark and it's raining, a-fucking-gain, and Dean's still wearing his jacket and his boots and his ears are cold, because the heater in here sucks, and he's shredded the label of the beer everywhere, everywhere. He brushes it off his knees and that just means it's gonna get ground into the shit-brown carpet, but—who cares. He's got other things on his mind.

He gets the last beer out of the fridge. Should've bought more. "Got some spare cash," he says, to the dark hall. There's a halo of light around the half-closed bedroom door. "Thinking pizza for dinner."

Silence.

Dean pushes the beer bottle against his forehead. "C'mon, Sam. It's not going to kill you to prefer pepperoni or sausage. Just say something."

"Doesn't matter," is the response.

Dean squeezes his eyes closed, slams the bottle down to the counter. It's four steps to the bedroom and the door flies open under his palm. "Just fucking say," Dean says, and Sam's looking at him with big eyes, curled up on the twin bed with his back up against the wall, books spread open all around him. Homework, of course. "Just say it, okay? What do you want?"

Sam stares at him. "I don't care! Get—whatever, pepperoni. Jeez, what's up with you?"

"Sure you don't want sausage?" Dean says, kind of nasty, and Sam frowns, shakes his head. Goddamn it. Dean drags a hand over his face, sags against the door frame. He's—a little dizzy. Oh—okay, so maybe he should've eaten, sometime since this morning. "Damn it, Sam," he says, his stomach twinging.

"What?" Give him this—maybe he's sneaking around, maybe he's lying about half his life, but Sam doesn't shrink back from an argument. He's still in his pajamas. He shoves his notebook away, lifts his chin. "What?"

"Been doing some reading," Dean says, and watches Sam's face scrunch disbelievingly. "Rearviewmirror? You don't even like cars."

It's weirdly satisfying to watch Sam blanch. He's been so unaffected the last little while it's almost a relief to get a real reaction. His mouth parts, his eyes go big. He stares at Dean in total silence except the rain drumming on the roof, and then he says, "That's—private."

"Not that private," Dean says. "You're putting shit on the internet for any asshole to read, Sam. It's not a pretty princess diary with a sparkly lock."

Sam's face is white. He licks his lips, his back rigid against the wall. "How did you—you never—"

"I know how to use a friggin computer," Dean says, and watches Sam close his eyes. "So? Got a lot to say to a bunch of strangers. Might as well say it to me. I mean, I'm your brother, right? Family."

It comes out hard but his voice cracks, on the last word. He swallows and some of the anger dissipates. Sam's jaw flexes and he tucks his hands behind his neck and his knees drag in, like defense. Like he needs defense. Against Dean. Like it's Dean who's wrecking things.

Dean's legs go out from under him. He sits down. Right there, in the doorway to the bedroom, the frame hard against his spine. The rain's loud and he doesn't—what is there to say? "You should've told me."

That's really it. Sam looks at him. Disbelief. "How?" he says, and Dean tips his head back against the wall, looks at the popcorn ceiling, says, "I don't know, it's not my damn secret. But you should've."

"Yeah, that would've gone great," Sam says, sarcastic.

Silence. The rain. Dean drags his hand over his face again, clears his throat. "So. You're—queer." For some reason it seems like the simplest thing to start with.

Sam snorts. "I'm not, like, jerking off to JC Chasez," he says, bitter.

"Who?" Dean says, but shakes his head. "God, whatever. Jesus, Sam, I can't—don't talk about you jerking off. You're not—you don't date chicks, either. Ever. So you're—"

"I don't know," Sam says. Kind of firm. Dean closes his eyes to not look at him. "I don't know, okay? But that's not what—" Pause, while he drags in a breath that's audible across the room. Dean curls over, his forehead between his knees. It's too big to hear. Sam blows out air. "You read the whole thing?"

Frail. Cobweb soft, like if Dean breathed too hard it'd break. Dean folds his hands over his head. "I read the whole thing," he says.

"Don't—" Sam says, quick, and cuts himself off. Dean can't stand it—he looks, peeking up, and Sam's made himself small, there at the head of the bed. His mouth is small, his lips between his teeth—his eyes, big and scared. "Dean. I wouldn't—I swear. I wouldn't—"

"Kiss me?" Sam flinches like from a raised fist, when Dean's all the way over here. Dean licks his lips, dropping his hands so they dangle useless between his knees. "Or, what. Leave? Either way it's pretty fucked up, for me, Sam."

"Oh my god," Sam says, very quietly, and—christ. Looks like he's gonna cry.

"Sam," Dean says, and no matter how pissed he is, that's not—Sam fights back. Sam always fights back, he's frickin' annoying that way. He's not supposed to crack like this. Dean rolls up to his knees and Sam's looking away, neck craned unnaturally so that his face is pointed at the broken-blind-covered window so that Dean can't see, but Dean can—Dean can see his teeth so hard in his lip that the skin there's white, and his chest shaky, and his fist clenched in the thin fabric of his pajama bottoms, and, and—"Sammy," Dean says, again, and Sam's eyes close and there is—shit, shit, a tear, running fast out of the corner of his eye, streaking down his cheek so quick that if Dean could blink he might've missed it.

Dean's gut hurts, like he took a punch from a werewolf and he's gonna be bruised for the next three weeks. He doesn't have anything to say to make it better, not when it's this screwed up. This isn't Sam bitching about Dad or whining about crossbow practice or pouting about a move. Sam's been thinking about this for two years and he's managed to talk about it with people, online at least. Dean's coming at it with a week's slow raw realization and he doesn't know how to make it—not how it is.

He gets over to the bed, on his knees. Sam won't look at him, like the view of nothing through the blinds is the most fascinating thing in the world. There's a wet shining trail, down his cheek to his jaw. A damp circle on his t-shirt. Dean says, because he can't think of what else to say, "You really—you want—" and even then, can't articulate it. A kiss. Sex. A kind of close they've never been. He says, slower, "Is that why you want to go?"

Sam drags in air. Sounds like it hurts.

Dean drags his teeth over his lip. There are books all over the bed. He pushes them away, and Sam's notebook. He pushes up—knee on the mattress, and sinking down to his hip, and Sam's close enough to touch, now, and he jerks and looks at Dean like he's an alien. A ghost. Something that can't be real, only they both know that it is. Dean touches Sam's hand, fisted there in his pants, and Sam jerks again, his stiff shoulders back against the wall, and he shoves Dean's hand but no matter the crazy growth spurt Sam's been having Dean's still stronger, still has the reach—he grips Sam's wrist and yanks, gets him off balance, and then he's right inside Sam's grapple and has his hand flat on Sam's chest, pressing him harder against the paint, and Sam stares at him wild-eyed with his breath both fast and deep and Dean leans forward and presses their mouths together. It's a bad kiss—he barely hits on center, and Sam freezes—but there's the touch of warmth, Sam's lips—soft—and the shocked air hitting Dean's face—and Dean drags in breath through his nose and resettles, fits his mouth to Sam's soft open lower lip and makes it better, his head tipping, easy pressure there, just the faintest amount of suction so that when he pulls back a millimeter there's a little smooch sound, and that makes it—real.

He kissed his little brother. No getting around that. No pretending. His nose brushes Sam's cheek and Sam's not really breathing, and Dean—fuck, Dean does it again, pressing in and letting Sam's wrist go so that he can get a hand on Sam's jaw, tipping him so it's good. Sam makes a tiny noise and breathes out hard against his mouth, and when Dean kisses him for a third time Sam meets it, his lips moving finally out of that still shock, his fingertips brushing Dean's arm all careful, his heart pounding under Dean's hand.

Dean pulls back. An inch between them—not enough but all Dean can seem to manage. He swallows. His lips are tingling, and his eyes are closed and he doesn't want to open them, and his fingers—jesus, he's got them tangled in Sam's hair like Sam's some easy hot chick he's picked up at a dive bar, pressing her up against the wall in the bathroom hallway, knowing how the night's going to end.

"We can't," Sam says. Sam. His voice, steady and familiar. "We—Dean. This isn't—"

"No," Dean says, god knows why. He pulls back, though—pulls his hand out of Sam's hair, stands up. His legs wobble for a second. He has to open his eyes and so he drags in a breath and does, and Sam's sitting there with his shoulders high and tight and his hands fisted on his knees and his hair a little fluffed on one side, a little screwy. His mouth parted and his eyes—fixed on Dean's face, looking all over it. Like he's memorizing a trail map, for an unknown stretch of land.

"I'm drunk," Dean says. It's not true. Five beers—he's buzzed but he knows what he's doing. Sam doesn't contradict the lie. "Acting nuts. Sorry, Sam. I—"

"I want pepperoni," Sam says. His face isn't white anymore. He's flushed, dark pink in the hollows of his cheeks. His eyes are dark, wide and fixed on Dean, and there's still that shining trail on his cheek but it's drying. "Order from that place on Melrose. Garlic knots, too."

Dean backs up a step, pins on a smile. "What, you think I'm dumb? Like I wouldn't get knots," he says, and Sam doesn't smile but he nods, brief and fast like Dean's picking up a play in some con they're running, and Dean snaps a finger-gun at Sam—fuck, what is he doing—and turns out of the room, says—"Okay, dinner in thirty minutes or less or your money back!" and walks through the kitchen and out into the living room and out the front door, and closes it behind himself, and leans against it and stares blindly out into the rain, the setting sun still sparking some tiny golden bit of light out to the west, past the horizon.

He licks his lips and tastes salt, not his own. Sam's hand, on his arm—skimming, brushing light through the thickness of his jacket. Like he wasn't sure he'd be allowed to really touch. He drags in the rain-soaked air. He'll drive, to get the pizza. He'll drive, and he'll give Sam time. When he gets back he'll offer Sam half the pie and a beer, and there'll be some movie on TV that Sam probably won't want to watch, but maybe he will. They'll be—brothers. Dean knows how to do that. It feels like it's all he's got left.

It's—not easy but it's not all that hard, either. There's a brutal week where Dean's torn between walking on eggshells and wanting to wrestle Sam to the ground, and Sam goes perfectly silent—not pouty withdrawal or furious silent-treatment, but as still and quiet as though he's not even there. Dean can't bear it. It takes Dad coming home to break it—Dad, and christ, when he calls to say he's coming back Dean completely freezes and his mind fills up with—with—but then Sam looks at him and takes the phone out of his hand and says, his mouth's full—what's up? and after that it's like things… settle. It's not okay but it's livable.

rearviewmirror.livejournal.com goes quiet. Dean checks, occasionally, over the months that pass. When he's looking up some random piece of lore for Dad, when they're hunting alone and Sam's stuck back at whatever shitty hotel they stored him at, and Dean's on research duty because Sam's in high school and can't answer his phone. Dean types in the address and checks, and it's still that last post. Anyone else going through this? He hopes, sincerely, not. It's too fucked up for anyone else to bear. At least the Winchesters have practice.

They run PT. Sam does his homework. Dean watches TV. Hunting focuses things. There's stuff to kill and people to save and things aren't falling apart any more than they ever are, so—Dean deals.

Sam leaves.

It's January. Dean's in a library, alone. Dad's working a job north of Boise and he sent Dean down to Wendover to take care of a haunting, and Dean's done and Dad called and said two more days and there's this raw wounded spot where Dean should be able to turn, to look over his left shoulder and say—but it's empty there, and so he's in a library.

Sam started posting again, when he got to school. Small stuff. That he was sorry for the long break. That he'd ended up at a university after all. The hamburger girl doesn't respond anymore but the Nine Inch Nails boy does: thought you were dead, he says, no-caps like he's so goddamn cool, and Sam says, Just working some stuff out.

Sam likes his professors. He plays pick-up soccer with some of the guys from his dorm. His roommate snores. He doesn't listen to music at all. There's nothing—real. There's none of the sadboy shit, nothing about what he's feeling, no pondering of what it all means. He picks up a few different Livejournal friends, clearly people from his classes, who crack jokes about Ancient Civ and Linear Algebra. He joins a community focused around civil rights litigation. He might as well not be there.

Dean reads it all. If Sam's not calling then Dean's gonna check in whatever way he can. When Sam left Dean made sure he had at least one good knife in his bag and he said don't forget the salt when Sam hiked his backpack onto his shoulder, and Sam snorted and looked at him like a gunshot but he nodded, and Sam's not dumb, he knows how to take care of himself, but. Dean's the big brother, here. He's within his rights, to check and make sure baby bro's not being a dumbass.

January and it's fuckin cold, in Wendover, but the library's too warm. Dean keeps his coat on anyway, scrolling through the comms. He's kinda turning into an expert, navigating the pages, recognizing the shorthand. He hasn't made an account. Doesn't know why he would. He finishes his scan of the comms Sam's part of and doesn't really see any relevant posts, and no comments from rearviewmirror that he can find. He chews his cheek and goes back to the main page, thinking—okay, he can get out of here. Beer and dinner, and finding a motel that doesn't look toxic, and waiting for Dad to call. Not the worst night he could have. He refreshes, one last time, just in case, and there's a new post. He reads:

January 23

Done with class for the week. Feeling restless.

current mood: current music:

Comments:

lawblog69: we should go out!!

bloodofreptile: go get laid

Dean snorts. At least the NIN kid is consistent. He refreshes again and there's a new comment.

bloodofreptile: go get laid

rearviewmirror: Not really in the cards.

He takes a breath, sitting there at the computer bank. It's quiet in here—the good people of Wendover aren't much for the library, apparently—but he feels like someone's right there. Like he could reach out and touch, when it's just words on a glowing screen. Still—the speed of the comment—Sam's… sitting there. Right now, on a computer in Palo Alto, looking at the same thing Dean is.

He refreshes.

bloodofreptile: go get laid

rearviewmirror: Not really in the cards.

bloodofreptile: still holding onto that? very hufflepuff. how long has it been?

rearviewmirror: my whole life

Dean presses his knuckles to his lips, hard enough that he can feel his teeth pressing back. Jesus, Sam. He refreshes—another comment, from coppertonebuttgirl, agreeing about the restlessness but apparently she's off to a date with her boyfriend, and Sam responds and says sounds nice :), and jesus, Sam, Dean thinks. Off to have the big college experience like he wanted so bad, off to have that new shiny life, and after five months away he's still all sadsack, still not actually living.

He clicks the comment box. He types, unaccountably mad. He hits submit, and gets a warning that it'll show as anonymous. He waits, and refreshes, and reads:

Anonymous: Just go hit a bar. Live a little. Thought you were supposed to be smart, college boy.

rearviewmirror: Since when does smart have anything to do with it?

Dean rolls his eyes. He can hear Sam's voice saying it, nettled and trying to sound like he isn't.

Anonymous: You're on here mooning after Cindy Crawford when Claudia Schiffer and Tyra Banks are out there in the real world. Have a beer, get over it.

A pause. Dean has to refresh twice. The librarian walks by with her cart of books and gives him a distracted smile, and Dean's so addled he doesn't actually process and then return it until she's already gone.

rearviewmirror: I don't think it's something you get over. It mattered. It still does, to me.

Dean chews his thumbnail. Sam's face, turned unnaturally, looking out that window at the rain. The wet track, on his cheek.

Anonymous: Matters enough that you're never going to move on?

rearviewmirror: I didn't think you could move on from family. Maybe I was wrong.

The air goes out of Dean's chest. He turns away from the computer, entirely, swiveling the chair so he's looking out at the lonely bookshelves. He flexes his jaw and swivels back around. Hits refresh.

The thread of comments is gone. He blinks, confused. He doesn't think he was hallucinating—been a while, since he was that tired and drunk. But—oh—in its place, a single comment, under the brief conversation with the NIN kid:

rearviewmirror: Tell me if it's you.

Dean licks his lips. He closes out of the browser, picks up his notepad and keys. On the steps outside it's cold, cold, fucking cold, and this town is bleak. He walks down to the Impala, waiting there in the iced-over grey snow, and braces his hands on the hood, and blows out a long purling winter-dragon breath, and then fishes his phone out of his pocket. Another new phone, but he's got Sam's number memorized, and he almost calls before he chickens out. If it's not actually wanted—he imagines that conversation and he's just not constitutionally capable, right now, of facing how goddamn awkward it'd be.

He texts: It's me.

The response, after seconds: Where are you?

The shitty part of Utah. That's saying something. Easier, like this. Like it's not him kicking down a doorway right into Sam's head.

I don't have class tomorrow.

Could be random, if he didn't know who he was talking to. Dean leans his elbows on the hood of the car, looking at the little box of black-and-white text. He chews his lips and thinks. Before he can respond, another message:

I don't want to move on.

Dean tips his head enough that he's pressing the edge of the phone into his forehead. His fingers are cold. He sniffs, his nose dripping in the icy weather, and types, careful to make sure he gets it right: I'm nine hours away.

Less, if he goes over 100 in the boring parts of Nevada, and if he doesn't stop at all for a catnap.

Stop in Reno for a nap. You get weird when you drive all night. Text me when you're close.

Dean works his jaw, standing there in the cold. He's got nothing to do, for two days. He's got most of a tank of gas. He's got—nothing. Nothing. He gets in the car, and he drives.

It's only 9:30 when he gets to Reno. There were parts of Nevada where he drove very, very fast. He pulls into a truck stop, gets more gas and parks out near where the semis are lined up, the drivers early-birding the night away. Still cold here but less so. He twists around so his back's to the passenger door and looks out the driver window at the neon signs of the truck stop, the cars going in and out of the gas islands. He ate a little but his stomach was all twisted up and he couldn't get much down. A beer would go easier but he doesn't want to be drunk. Well. He does. This is insane. This is—completely stupid.

He pulls out his phone, looks at it. Dials and holds it to his ear, and it rings three times—long enough for him to change his mind four times—before there's an answer, and Sam's voice says, "Dean?"

His voice. Dean closes his eyes, tips his head back against the cold glass of the window. "Long time, no speak," Dean says. It feels rusty.

Sam's quiet for a second, on the other end. "Not really, though. Right?"

"I guess so. It's not the same." Dean listens to the little acknowledging sound Sam makes. There's silence again, for seconds that he counts—one and then two and then three. He listens to the cooling tick of the engine, through it, and then says, before he loses his nerve, "I shouldn't come. Right? This is nuts."

There's some noise, staticky. Like something passed over the mic on Sam's phone. After a beat, Sam says, "You should do what you want to do."

"Oh, should I," Dean says, and it comes out sarcastic, but he doesn't really mean it to be mean. Sam doesn't take the bait, staying quiet on the other end, and Dean opens his eyes again, watching a huge truck muscle past the gas island, watching the normal world go by. He rubs his eye. "I've been—it's been weird, Sam."

Understatement, but he doesn't know why he says it. That kind of stuff isn't for Sam to worry about.

"Go to sleep," Sam says, instead of responding. "An hour or something, just enough so you won't drive off the road. Text me when you're close."

Same thing he said before. "It'll be like three in the morning when I'm close," Dean says, and Sam says, "I'll be awake," and then the line disconnects, and Dean's left there alone again on the bench seat, but it—feels different.

He sort of sleeps, sort of doesn't. He's got a talent for going to bed wherever and whenever he has to—on spare tires and on forest floors and in a closet, once, with a propane tank as his pillow—but his brain won't shut up. He drifts in and out, for the hour Sam asked him for, and then he gets out of the car and goes into the 24-hour c-store and buys a big cup of coffee and a Hershey bar, and points the hood west, and follows the yellow dashed line home.

He texts from a gas station outside Sacramento. Sam texts back in less than a minute with an address. Dean glances at his map of California and responds: 45 minutes, and it's more like thirty when he pulls up to the—yeah, the motel, and he makes a sound that's sort of like a laugh except it doesn't feel like one. He turns into the parking lot and the headlights flash the building, and there, sitting on the sidewalk with his back to a pillar.

Dean parks. Sam has his arms folded over his knees, but he unfurls, stands. Dean gets out of the car and Sam's—jesus, ten feet away, his face totally visible under the streetlight. His hair's a little longer. "Did you get taller?" Dean says, and Sam huffs, his head ducking, and—fuck everything else, it's Dean's little brother, and he drags Sam into a hug, folding his arms over Sam's shoulders even if he has to lift on his toes a little to do it. Sam goes stiff for half a second, but he hugs back, and Dean turns his face in, Sam's hair in his nose like it always is, and feels him—warm, and safe. All Dean ever wanted for him, pretty much.

"You have to get the room," Sam says, when they pull apart. At Dean's eyebrows he shrugs, the corner of his mouth curled. "What? My scholarship doesn't include seedy rent by the hour stuff."

"Oversight much?" Dean says, but he goes in, and he gets a room. Two queens, because that's what the tired miserable little desk clerk says they have available. Means Dean doesn't have to think about other possibilities, and it means that when he dangles the keys off his finger and Sam half-smiles at him, when they've walked down the cold sidewalk side by side, when Dean opens the door and finds the different motel room, same as the first—Sam sits on one bed, and Dean sits on the other, and they look at each other, and it's like it's two years ago and they're just two kids, waiting for Dad to come home.

Sam is taller. Taller than Dean, now. His hair long enough to fall in his eyes, which it does constantly. Newish sneakers, and old jeans, and a hooded sweatshirt, and a denim jacket over the top of that. Not warm enough for the Bay in winter, but Dean bites his tongue before he says anything about it.

"How are your classes?" he says, instead.

Sam's cheek sucks in, like he's chewing it. After a second he says, "You don't want to talk about my classes, man." His head tips. "Anyway. You read about it, right."

It was a mistake not to stop for beer. Dean needs something to do with his hands. "Your algebra professor sounds like an asshole," he says.

Makes Sam smile before he ducks his head, looking down at his lap. "I thought—" He swallows, audibly. He shakes his head, his hair falling down and hiding his face. "Only reason I started posting again was that I wondered if you might still—if you'd check."

It's quiet, honest. Dean hasn't talked to Sam in person for half a year and he's off-balance. Expecting Sam to snark, to be dismissive, to roll his eyes. Small hours of the morning, maybe he's too tired not to be honest. Maybe he's growing up. Dean's not prepared for that.

Sam looks up at him when Dean's silent for too long. His teeth dig into the corner of his mouth and he drags his hand through his hair, gets it off his forehead. "I said I didn't want to move on. You know what I meant, right?"

Dean huffs. "Yeah, I'm not an idiot, Sam," he says, and Sam's eyes tighten. Dean leans back on his hands, tips his head back on his shoulders to look at the ceiling. "Thought this was the whole point of getting out. Getting away, making a whole new life. Being someone else."

"I'm still me," Sam says, unseen. "And it wasn't the whole point. I want a life. That part—whatever, that doesn't matter right now. But I never thought the other thing was going to go away."

He stands up, so Dean can see him. Dean looks at him down his nose, and Sam's—god. Tall. That keeps being his first thought. Tall, and maybe not a stranger, even if he's real damn strange. Sam steps closer, in the little space between the two beds, chewing his lip again. He's gonna make a sore there. "Dean," he says, and Dean raises his eyebrows in response. "You came."

"Yeah," Dean says, rueful. "Well. I'm Cindy Crawford."

Sam's face ripples—a frown, surprise—and then a huffed little laugh—and then he steps between Dean's knees and touches his chest, his jaw. Leans down, slow, telegraphing like they're practicing a fight, and Dean stays exactly where he is, leaned back on his hands, and Sam's mouth touches his—softly. Not hesitant. Dean lets his eyes close and feels it. Puff of air against his face as Sam lets out a tense breath and then another kiss, the damp inside Sam's lip catching against Dean's, and Dean kisses back then, reaching up and getting Sam's jaw, his jacket, fisting the denim and pulling Sam closer. There's a stagger—Sam's knee landing on the bed by Dean's hip, and Dean gets an arm around his lower back and kisses him again, tasting him. Salt, and when Dean kisses him again and presses his mouth open, licks inside, there's coffee-taste, Sam's tongue—slick, tentative—he stayed up, to wait for Dean—his kiss clumsier now, like he doesn't have much practice.

Dean pulls back a few inches. Sam's half-draped on him, his weight nearly in Dean's lap. His eyes are dark but big with surprise, like he didn't expect Dean to go with it. "Sammy," Dean says, and Sam—shudders, his hands closing hard around Dean's shoulders. Okay, Dean thinks, filing that away. He drags a thumb over Sam's jaw, where he's got a barely-there prickle of stubble. "What are we doing?"

Sam shakes his head, licks his lips. "This," he says, holding the side of Dean's neck. "This."

They peel Sam's jacket off, and then Dean's. Sam's still in that hoodie, soft black, and Dean gets his fingers just under the hem of it, barely grazing Sam's stomach, kissing him again—tangled up close on the edge of the bed, Sam's thigh slung over his. Sam keeps touching his face, his chest. His amulet, swinging forward between them when he urges Sam down to his back on the mattress, a knee between Sam's and his hand still there on Sam's belly. Sam grips the amulet and breathes out hot against Dean's face and lifts up for another kiss, which Dean gives him easy, and it's—god, it's good. The lights on, the room warm, Sam wanting underneath his hand. His mouth, slick and open, learning how to press back, how to give as good as he's getting. Dean kisses his cheekbone, his jaw, settles his hand flat on Sam's stomach to ground him, says, "Sammy, you've done this before, right?" Sam hitches breath, nods. Dean sorta laughs, lifts up so he can actually see Sam's expression. "More than once?"

"Twice," Sam says, and when Dean raises his eyebrows he frowns, vaguely indignant. "Jenny Morrison, just before graduation." He licks his lips. "And—a guy. After student orientation, here."

"Playing the field, huh?" Dean says. There's no reason it should make his stomach go molten hot. He rubs Sam's stomach, feels the rise of his breath. "You like it?" Sam nods, again. "What'd you do?"

Sam's cheeks are dark, brick-red. He licks his lips again and Dean ducks back in to kiss him, knocking his mouth open, tasting inside. Earns himself a small deep noise and Sam's hand sliding through his hair where it's too short to grab. He nudges Sam's nose and sits up, peeling off his overshirt. "C'mon. What'd you do? Didn't put that up on your journal, how am I supposed to know?"

"It was a rush party," Sam says, looking at him. He pulls his t-shirt off over his head, making sure his amulet stays put, and Sam blinks heavily, his lips parted. Jeez—it's weird. Hot. Sam wants him, Dean thinks, and it sends a rush of blood south. "He's—uh. Pre-med, smart."

"Not looking for his biography, Sammy," Dean says, and spreads his hands on Sam's hips, pushing up. The hoodie moves, the t-shirt underneath rucks up—Sam's pale here but still that faint all-over tan, darker than Dean's skin. He licks his lips. "What'd you do? Jerk each other off?"

Sam nods, again, his mouth open. God, Dean can imagine it. On some dorm-room bed, their heads leaned together, Sam's mouth open just like this—panting, his hand fumbling down—fuck, fuck it's hot, Sam nervous and into it and trying, making sure. "You liked it, huh?" Dean says, stroking his thumbs over Sam's bare belly.

"Yeah," Sam says, thin on not enough air, his knee drawing up. "But I—I thought about—when you kissed me—" and Dean kisses him again, groaning. Jesus, Sam's gonna kill him. Thinking about some shitty nervous freaked-out kiss when another guy's got his tongue in Sam's mouth. Sam grabs his shoulders, sits up, and Dean accommodates him easy, letting Sam touch him back—Sam's hands sliding down his chest, around to his ribs, grasping. "Dean," he says, panting.

"Let's get this off, huh?" Dean says, pulling, and Sam yanks the hoodie off in a second flat, his hair all ruffling up behind it. The shirt comes with it and there's just Sammy's bare smooth skin, that same pale tan all over. Small brownish nipples, slim muscles. His body. Dean dips and kisses his bare shoulder, licking there, biting, and Sam's nails dig into his ribs so he does it again, swinging a leg over so he's straddling Sam's lap, taking his time. He scrapes his teeth over the swell where Sam's collarbone dips into the arch of his trap, and Sam grips his neck, his back arching. He's hard. Shit, he's nineteen, he has to be hard. Dean slides his fingers down Sam's belly to his belt, tucking under the waist of his jeans, but Sam grips his wrist, then, groaning, saying—"Wait—wait—"

Dean drops his head to Sam's shoulder, groaning back. "We waited," he says, but Sam's hand is on his shoulder, pushing him back, making him look. "What?"

Sam's pink. "Have you—with a guy?" Dean rocks back but Sam's holding him close, looking all over his face. "Dean. Have you—"

"Yeah," Dean says, and watches Sam's ears go red. Sam doesn't need to know when, but it was all in the last year. Three dudes, hookups that were way too easy. They were good—turns out that Dean just likes sex, any way someone will give it to him—and he learned what it felt like to have a dick not his own in his hand, how it felt to slip a cock into his mouth and make a man groan. He hadn't thought about Sam while he was doing it, not really, but he's thinking about it now, and Sam's eyes have dropped, his lips between his teeth. Jealous? Dean smiles while Sam can't see and breaks Sam's hold on his wrist, and slides his hand down, and cups the crotch of Sam's jeans where he's swelling them out. Sam jerks, eyes flying open. "Means I know what I'm doing. Yeah?"

"Yeah," Sam breathes, and then it's—undoing his belt, and unzipping, and then—god, he's still got his sneakers on. Dean backs off and kicks off his boots, deliberately, and Sam blinks at him hot-eyed with his chest heaving and his jeans half-open looking like a friggin porno, but then he gets with the program, and the shoes thud to the shitty carpet and then they're practically racing, undressing, and when Dean kicks his boxers off to the side Sam's—naked, half on the bed, staring at him. Dean stares back, circling a hand around Sam's ankle. God, to look at him, in the lamplight. Long legs, hairier on the shins and lightly furred on the thighs, and a decent dark bush around a dick that's—jesus, that dick. Big, bigger than Dean's, bigger than—Dean licks his lips and looks up with an effort and Sam's staring right back at him, focused between his legs, his mouth parted. "Like what you see?" Dean says, and Sam doesn't answer, just reaches for him, and Dean crawls up the bed and settles on his elbow above Sam with their legs brushing bare, Sam's dick hot against his hip, and Sam kisses him with both hands on his face, his thigh dragging up against Dean's, his lips almost trembly.

Dean soothes a hand down Sam's ribs but Sam's—fuck. Shaking. They haven't even done anything. "Sammy," Dean whispers, between Sam's needing brief kisses, and Sam shakes his head and kisses him again and then ducks his head down, his nose brushing under Dean's jaw. Dean pulls Sam closer—tips, so they're on their sides—and pulls Sam's leg over his hip, pushes in, and—ah, shit, shit that feels good, Sam's big dick brushing in against his, dragging heavy and hot. "Oh," says Sam, small, and Dean slips his hand further and grips Sam's ass, the muscle tight and small—pulls in, and pulls again, encouraging, and Sam grips Dean's shoulder underhand tight enough to hurt but follows, pushing in with the rhythm Dean's urging. He's breathing fast, hot against Dean's throat, but he's got it—humping in, meeting Dean, making their dicks slide, his cockhead smearing wet against Dean's belly. Dean hums, kissing Sam's temple where he can just reach it, just enjoying the—insane way it feels. He lets Sam's ass go and Sam keeps going—good, good—and he licks his fingers sloppy, and reaches down between them, and for the first time he gets a grip on Sam's dick, feels the heft of it. Sam makes a sound like he's been shot and Dean says shh, easy, slicking his hand down to the base, squeezing hard as he pulls back up, and Sam makes another gulping strange sound, his thigh clutching hard around Dean's hip, his hand crushing Dean's lower back in closer. "That feel good?" Dean says, and Sam—comes. Fast, humping in, spurting up Dean's belly and his own, the slick getting all over Dean's dick, hot and wet, the sensation enormous. Dean squeezes him through it, knowing, and Sam humps in again and grabs his ass, nails digging in. Dean tips his head back, feeling it. God, it's good. Sam. His brother.

He swallows. His dick's throbbing, wanting more, feeling left behind. Sammy shudders and Dean licks his lips, pushes Sam back so his shoulders hit the bed. He flops—boneless, shocked—and Dean drags his hands over Sam's ribs, frames his hips. His dick is still big, flushed and wet, his balls clutched up high, and Dean licks his lips and says, "Okay," to no one, and leans down, and gets Sam's dick in his mouth.

A shock, Sam's body practically lifting off the bed. "What," he says, somewhere Dean can't see him—"What are you, oh—" and Dean thinks, oh, what if no one has done this? What if Jenny just opened her legs and she and Sam humped awkward and teenage in some backseat—what if pre-med only wiped his handful of Sam's jizz on the mattress and passed out—what if Dean's the first one, here, opening his jaw wide, careful of his teeth, slicking down, getting the whole fat length of it in his mouth. Only—he can't, fuck, Sam's too big. He fists the base, pulls off, spits and slicks the wet down. When he glances up Sam's up on his elbows, staring, and Dean grins at him, jerks it again, swallows. He can taste Sam's jizz, leftover from coming before. "Hang on," Dean says, and goes back down, letting the head bust his lips open, slicking tight down to his fist, dragging his tongue hard against the underside, suckling easy. Sam takes his statement as an order and grips his head, his shoulder, his hips cringing up into Dean's mouth, and Dean heaves in air, feels Sam firming up again, thick and needing and good.

He's only done this a few times but he—shit, he liked it. Likes it better the other way around, of course, but like this—his dick pressing into the bed, throbbing—Sam splitting open his mouth—yeah, it doesn't exactly suck. He bobs up and down, making sure to pay special attention to the soft ridge at the head, and Sam's making insane noises, now, up above him, petting his head and his shoulders and gripping, trying to shove up. Dean leans into his hip so he can't, fists his dick, pulls off gasping and licking his lips. Sam's still staring, down the length of his torso, and Dean jerks him through the goopy mess they're making—his spit, Sam's precome, what Sam's already come. "You like it?" Dean says, and Sam—rolls his eyes, the little shit.

"You're smug," Sam says, and Dean raises his eyebrows and says, "You're damn right I am," and lets Sam's dick go and goes down, down, no fist in the way until Sam's dick hits the back of his throat and he gags—breathes through it—slurps up with tight lips and then goes right back down, getting his throat used to it, learning the feel of this massive, awesome dick. Sam moans, pushes his hips up, and Dean lets him, rides it—lets Sam fuck up, lets him get a rhythm, like fucking—Sam, fucking his face—and Dean reaches down between his own legs and fists his own dick, finally, groaning in relief and making Sam shudder as the vibration rumbles through Dean's open throat. Sam grips his head with both hands, holding him down, and Dean drags in air through his nose and holds there, filled up with Sam and choking, spit flooding out of his open mouth—the world dark and just Sam's taste, his smell—and Sam makes a little sound—and Dean grunts and lifts off, breaks Sam's hold and crawls up his body, straddling his hips and dragging his dick against where Sam's is all sloppy-hot, dripping wet. Sam gasps up at him and grabs his hips, his ass, fucking up into him, and Dean grips both their dicks in two hands, fucking into the tight wet channel he's making for them both, and Sam pulls at his ass, spreading it, rocking his hips to help, moaning and looking helpless up into Dean's face, and Dean leans down and breathes against him and Sam still comes first, creaming them both, his dick flexing and twitching in Dean's grip, and Dean braces one slick hand on the bed and fists himself seriously, jerking fast, and Sam moans and kisses his jaw and pulls at his ass with those big hands, his fingers slipping low, dipping—and Dean jerks and spills, his belly seizing, his thighs clamping around Sam's hips, Sam's lips open and dragging wet against his throat, his fist gripping the bedspread so hard that his fingers cramp.

Sam's stroking his hips, repetitive and soft, when he's done panting. Dean swallows, shifts his weight. He's slumped on top of Sam, his face buried in Sam's shoulder. Wet between them, sliding, and he releases his dick and slips his sticky hand out, bracing on the bed enough to get some air between them. When he lifts up Sam's eyes are half-closed, but he focuses on Dean's face right away, and his hands stop their stroking and just squeeze, warm and tight. "You okay?" Sam says.

"My line," Dean says, and Sam rolls his eyes again, squeezes again. Dean sits up more but Sam doesn't let go. "C'mon, we should clean up."

Sam's eyes tighten, just barely. He sits up, keeping his grip on Dean, and Dean rocks back but doesn't tip over. He gets a hand on Sam's shoulder to keep his balance and Sam says, steady, "Don't freak. Okay?"

"Who's freaking?" Their dicks are still pressed wetly together, though Dean's basically soft, now. Sam's still plump, thick. He swallows. "C'mon, we're gonna get cemented together," he says, and Sam's mouth purses but his grip goes light, and it gives enough room that Dean can lift off, get his feet under him. Jesus, there's enough jizz on him that it's rolling down his belly—he claps a hand to it before it can drop, smearing it over his abs. "You come like a geyser, dude," he says, not really complaining, but Sam's cheeks are red when he looks back up, and he feels—shit. He doesn't know.

He goes to the bathroom. Fluorescent light, pink-painted sink. He wets one of the five-cent washrags and wipes himself up, and he's not turned on anymore so his thought is mainly that it's just gross, and that bed's going to be wrecked, and also, what is he doing. What is he doing.

Sam's hand appears, reaching around him. He jumps. In the mirror behind him, Sam's tall, looking over his shoulder. Looking at Dean, even as he wets the other rag, cleans himself up. Dean chews the inside of his lip and can't really turn away. Sam's got red marks on his shoulder, where Dean was biting him.

"Stay," Sam says. He tosses his wet rag back into the sink and settles his hands on Dean's biceps, squeezing. When he steps forward his dick presses into the small of Dean's back and his chest is warm, damp. "Tomorrow at least. We've got the room. Stay."

"You want your dick sucked again?" Dean says, and that time it is mean and he did kind of mean it to be, and Sam's eyelids dip and his jaw clenches, but he only slips his hands away from Dean's arms to his ribs, holding him. It feels… Dean shakes his head. "Sam," he says, but there's not really anything that can go after it.

A big hand slides up and over, flattening on his breastbone. "It's not just this," Sam says, meeting Dean's eyes in the mirror, and it makes Dean's cheeks go hot.

He covers Sam's hand with his. He shivers, for some reason. He says, "I should take a shower, I've been in the car all day," and Sam says, "Okay," and Dean takes a shower and Sam sits on the closed toilet, watches him through the clear curtain. Gives him a towel when he comes out. Takes his hips, when he's dry, and presses him to the tiled wall, and tips his head up, and kisses him clean.

Five in the morning, or later. There's a clean bed and Dean hasn't slept in a day. He lays down and Sam lays down with him, a few inches away until Dean relents and turns over, and Sam curls up behind him, holding on, his mouth against Dean's shoulder. There's going to be a call from Dad, at some point. Dean's going to have to meet him somewhere, because there's going to be something bad that needs killing. He can't stay. He's wired and tired, all at once.

"Sleep," Sam says, and Dean turns his head against the pillow, knows he will.

"Hey," he says, and Sam makes a quiet noise. "If you put this on your journal, maybe bloodofreptile will finally shut up about you getting laid all the time."

"His name is Dennis," Sam says, and Dean laughs, weirdly glad. Dennis. Yeah, that fits. "And this isn't going on the internet."

"Probably a good idea," Dean says, and Sam says, again, "Dude, go to sleep," and Dean tips back into Sam's warmth, and does, and it's the best sleep he's gotten in a year.

#fffr #wincest #weecest #first time #long fic #my writing #--seriously this one also went too long #but idk it felt right this way

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animeanxiety · 4 years ago

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The Soft Angel

~tsukishima x reader~

A/N: omg i haven’t posted in like 10 years im sorry💀💀

genre: ☁️fluff☁️

⚠️warnings⚠️: none! pure fluff! lowkey cringe maybe but cute ahah

🎧currently streaming🎧:

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It was the first time y/n was ever performing on a stage. Y/n was simply used to recordings, just regular covers. But here she is in her friend’s car, where they’re headed towards a bar that her friend works at, knowing the bar lets people perform songs, dances, singing, and comedy. Maybe even some magic if they were lucky. Somehow her friend had convinced y/n to perform at her bar, since she knew that y/n could sing like an angel. “Hey, y/n we’re here.” Y/n’s friend spoke excitedly. “O-Oh, okay.” Y/n responded nervously. Y/n had never performed live, and she was so scared of messing it up. Y/n and her friend entered the bar, Y/n scanned through the people sitting at the bar table and the people sitting at the tables. Her eyes seemed to linger on a certain blonde who was supposedly sitting with his band. She thought he was pretty tall. Taller than her for sure. “Y/n, the person in charge of the stage said your up first.-” Before she could finished, y/n felt even more nervous. She was first. First one up. She really wished she could just disappear at that very moment. All y/n could do was give a nervous and shaky nod. “Come on, you’ll be fine. And you’ll do great.” Her friend tried to reassure and calm y/n’s nerves. Y/n’s friend told her to relax and grab some water.

Sipping on her water, anticipating when she was going to be called up to the stage, y/n found her eyes, wandering around the room. She saw a few paintings and a wall full of sticky notes. Y/n figured that maybe she could post a sticky note on the wall. Walking up to the little table, in front of the sticky note filled wall, that had 5 different colours of sticky notes, beige, coral pink, a muted green, baby blue, and a light yellow. Y/n went for the light yellow sticky note, when she found her hand collided with a hand bigger than hers. She looks up to see the blonde she noticed earlier. “My bad,” the blonde, who had golden-brown eyes, spoke. “No it’s alright,” Y/n reassured. She noticed he was trying to go for the green one, so y/n passed it to him and a pen. He nodded and started to draw a little dinosaur on it. Y/n decided to draw a moon and stars. She had always loved constellations as a kid.

Finishing up the small sketch y/n made on her sticky note, she didn’t realized that the blonde stayed and watched her draw. “Cool,” he spoke, y/n was slightly frightened, assuming that he had left earlier. “Thanks, yours too” she gave him a sweet smile. “You performing tonight?” Y/n asked, “Yeah, me and my band. No vocalist though. We’re third on the stage.” He explained. “Lucky, at least you’re not first, Y/n, My name is Y/n.” She introduced. “Kei. Good luck up there. I need to head back” Kei remarked. Y/n nodded in response.

Now was the time for y/n to hop on the stage and sing her heart out. Her heart was pounding. She was so very nervous. Y/n scanned the room for her friend but no where to be seen. Until her eyes found Kei, they made eye contact and his eyes shouted the words, “You can do it.” She gave him a smile that accepted his reassurance.

As y/n approaches the stage, she’s trying to calm herself down. Finally she makes it the the center of the stage, a warm stage light focused on her. Y/n takes one last deep breath. As the backing track started, a smooth soft yet angelic voice came from her.

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His eyes were fixed on her. Her beautiful figure. Kei couldn’t help but stare, not just because of her beautiful image, but her angelic voice. It was like he was being serenaded by her. Kei hadn’t realized that his cheeks were flushed red. One because he thought y/n was absolutely gorgeous, and two because Kei loved the sound of her voice. He couldn’t help but feel a weird feeling in his stomach the longer he heard her sing. The feeling of butterflies in his stomach. “Hey, Kei. Earth to Kei.” His orange-haired band member, the drummer, waved his hand side to side in front of his face, trying to get him to snap out of his face. “H-Huh?” Kei spoke slightly confused. “You good, you were staring at that girl on stage.” Kei’s green haired friend, the keyboardist, remarked. “My bad, but wouldn’t she be perfect as our vocalist..?” Kei pondered. “She would, maybe we can ask after.” Kei’s black haired friend, the guitarist, Kageyama suggested.

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Y/n expected it to feel like eternity, but after all it wasn’t that bad. Her friend ran up to her and congratulate y/n, for doing something so well out of her comfort zone. “Thanks y/f/n” Y/n thanked. “Hm? I think someone wants to talk to you, Y/n” Her friend pointed out, Kei who stood behind them slightly. “May I speak with her privately?” He asked. Y/n and her friend looked at each other, then nodded.

Following the tall blonde outside, she wondered what he needed her for. Kei waited for the door to close before saying anything. “First of all, You did amazing, you’re voice was gorgeous.” Kei spoke, but slowly turned mumbled towards the end. “Thank you, I can’t wait for your band to perform,” Y/n spoke softly and sweetly. “Secondly, I know this is a very big question, and most likely you would need to think about it first,” Kei started, “But my and m band were wondering if you wanted to be our vocalist?” He finished. At this very moment, Y/n is very shocked at the question, she thinks for a moment. Y/n knows she’s wanted to take a step further with what talent she has, and decides that she should. “Yes, I would love to.” Y/n answered gratefully, “Actually? Really? Are you sure?” Kei asked, she simply nodded. “Okay, uhm, Great. One last thing. I know we haven’t know each other for very long either, and I know this is out of the blue, but I wanted to know if you wouldn’t mind me taking you out, to like some place to eat? I’d really like to get to know you.” Kei questioned, hoping it didn’t sound too creepy. “Sure, dino boy. You seem interesting.” Y/n grinned, a small peachy blush appearing on her cheeks. Kei couldn’t comprehend how cute it was to see her cheeks turn pink, and her small cute grin. “Uh, here’s my number, I’ll let you know when me and my band can meet up with you,” Kei started, “And when I can take you out to eat” He finished, rubbing the back of his neck, as he looks down to his side, handing y/n his number. “Alright, I’ll send you a text later.” She responded. “We should head back inside,” Y/n suggested. “R-Right,” He stuttered, rubbing the top of her head, pulling the door open for her, “Shorties, first” Kei teased, “You’re just abnormally tall” She giggled. Maybe this was a start of a new chapter to Y/n’s life, with her passion for music and singing, along side of someone who she takes a romantic interest in. And she can’t wait for it.

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general taglist: @sachirou-senpai

haven’t posted in ten years omg

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yet-another-fan-girl9 · 4 years ago

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Blackouts at the Bank

Summary: You get locked into a bank along with Captain America during a city-wide blackout.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 1348

Square Filled: Locked In with a Cute Stranger

A/N: This *is* a F.R.I.E.N.D.S. plot, buuuut it’s not an AU and therefore this will fill another square.

For @star-spangled-bingo 2021.

Star Spangled Bingo 2021 Masterlist

The bank sucked. Well, you weren’t even really in the bank, just the ATM room. Was there a better name for it? Probably. Your mind drifted off while you waited for the grey haired woman in front of you to withdraw some cash. Did people really use cash anymore? You were only here because you had to pay your grandmother back, and God forbid that she learns how to use Venmo or PayPal.

A glance around the room told you that the majority of the five people, the woman ahead of you and a couple at the ATM next to the right, were at least fifty or older. The only outliers were you and a tall man in the back, his cap casting a shadow over his face, his jacket collar pulled up as well. Oh, God, you hoped he didn’t have any malicious intentions. Tall, broad shouldered, good posture (albeit his efforts to make himself smaller), he, most likely, did not fall into the category of the others in the room.

He shifted and you realized that you may have been staring at him for a bit too long. You turned your gaze back to the woman in front of you and then to the window. It was already getting dark outside, the New York City lights flashing along with the chorus of cars honking.

The grey haired woman finished her withdrawal and you stepped up to the machine. Now, the problem with not using cash is that you don’t really know what you’re doing. Sure, the ATM gives you instructions, but you took your time. By the time you finished, the couple had left and the tall man was reading the directions on his ATM. You had gotten used to his presence and was pretty sure that he wasn’t going to cause any trouble, but you sure as hell weren’t going to be left alone with a strange man.

You walked to the exit, but the moment before you touched the door, the lights went out and you heard the bank’s locks engage. Oh, shit. You pushed on the door, just in case, but it didn’t budge. Great. This was fan-fucking-tastic.

The man you were trapped with was silent, save for the soft muttering. Your eyes adjusted to the dim room and you saw the man leaning against a wall. You moved over to the opposite wall and busied yourself with fishing your phone out of your pocket. You kept glancing at the man. Should you say something? Neither of you knew how long you were going to be trapped in here. Would it make things more or less awkward if you spoke? Luckily you didn’t have to make that decision.

“I guess we’re stuck, huh?” the man said. He had taken off his hat and it took you a moment to place his face, but when the realization hit, you almost evaporated. You were stuck in a goddamned ATM room with Captain fucking America.

“Yep,” you replied after enough seconds to make it weird and nodded. “Stuck.” Why did you have to be so fucking awkward? You fiddled with your jewelry and looked around the room, anywhere except directly at the Avenger.

The sound of a phone ringing startled you and you hoped the Captain didn’t notice. He answered and in an attempt to not eavesdrop, you looked at a poster hanging on the wall next to you. Unfortunately, it was too dark to actually make out the words, but you kept staring at it.

“Yes, I’m okay. I’m just trapped in an ATM vestibule.”

Vestibule. Was that a word? If Captain America said so, then yes. You brought your attention back to your phone when it vibrated in your hand.

Thing 1: u good?

You: yes. just trapped at the bank

Thing 2: We got lots of candles lit. Might cast a funky little spell

A photo of your two roommates with a shit ton of candles followed.

“No, I’m not alone, there’s a girl here,” you heard Captain America say. It was hard to not eavesdrop. “No, Buck, I can’t just break out, it’s a bank. Yeah, okay, bye.”

You: im not alone tho. im stuck with captain america

Thing 2: oMG really?

Thing 1: pics plz

Thing 2: That’s so lucky.

Thing 1: get his #

Thing 2: We’ll cast a spell to help you get his number.

Thing 1: im calling u

You: oh no

“Hello?” you answered your phone ready for the onslaught of questions from your roommates.

“We need proof,” they yelled through the phone. “Talk to him! Get a pic!”

Even though you were on the other side of the vestibule and your volume was relatively low, the Captain glanced at you. Doesn’t he have enhanced hearing or something? Ah, fuck.

“I’m ignoring you now, bye,” you said into the phone before hanging up, completely shutting it off, and shoving it into your pocket.

“So do you want a photo?” He grinned.

“Oh, no, I don’t need a photo,” you chuckled and looked at your feet.

You absolute fucking idiot. Of course you need a photo. You would die for a photo. If Captain fucking America offers you a photo, you say yes, goddamn it. But, of course, you said no. You could always change your mind. If you came out of this without even a photo, no one would believe you.

“Actually, a photo would be wonder-awe-great. A photo would be great, please.” Fuck, fuck, fuck. Stop being so awkward. Please.

He walked over to your side of the room and you heard your rapid heartbeats in your ears. You hoped you looked okay. It’s not like you dressed up to withdraw some cash.

“Uh, sorry, I turned off my phone because, roomies, you know,” you explained and rubbed your palms on your jeans.

“That’s alright. I can always send them to you.”

You nodded and smiled for the photo, trying to not focus on his close proximity.

“Where am I sending the picture?” You gave him your number and began to fidget with your jewelry again. “You know,” he said with a smile. “One would think this was an elaborate way to get my number.”

“What? Oh, no, I-I’m not,” you stopped yourself with a sigh.

“Don’t worry about it,” the Captain laughed. “So,” he paused for your name and you quickly gave it to him. “What brought you here?”

“I needed some cash for something completely legal.”

“Cash is kinda going out of fashion, isn’t it?”

You shrugged and leaned against the wall. “I need to pay my grandmother back, hence the cash.”

Captain America was, what? Technically in his nineties? Older? He would still be used to cash right? But why did he have to come out here? Didn’t Tony Stark have plenty of resources at the Avengers Tower?

“Well, Tony’s birthday is coming up,” he explained when you asked. “And he’s actually quite good at figuring out what you got for him. We all have to be sneaky, some of us have even gotten decoy gifts.”

***

“My aim sucks,” you laugh at yourself and go to retrieve the hair tie that you had flicked at a poster.

“Well,” the Captain, or as he repeatedly told you to call him Steve, said, drawing out the word.

“It’s fine.”

“Here, let me show you.”

He moved behind you and put his arms around you to help you position the hair tie.

“See, if you place the band higher up, it flies off easier,” he whispered, his breath tickling your neck. “So we aim and we release.”

As the band flew off your finger, the lights flickered back on.

“Oh, well I guess we’re free to go,” you sighed. “I hope we see each other again.”

Steve opened the door, the crisp spring air washing over you. “I have your number anyway.”

He waved as he walked the other way. You got your phone out and turned it back on. The first thing you did was update your phone’s wallpaper to the picture with a giddy smile.

#ssb2021 #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #marvel #mcu

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chuckbass-love · 4 years ago

Note

Johnny protective over sue fic?

Hey lovely. Thank you so much for your patience, i know i’ve made you wait a long time for this one but i hope it’s worth the wait.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Johnny Storm x Sue Storm & Johnny Storm x Fem!Reader

Summary: After Reed and Sue break up, Johnny vowed to never let anyone hurt his sister ever again. Now Reed is back and it’s clear they are getting close again, will Johnny allow Sue to give him another chance?

A/N: I’m sorta re writing the events of how Sue and Reed got back together in this. Just a little note so no one comes for me saying this never happened😂

Warnings: Angst, some comedy and language. No real warnings i guess.

Word Count: 3,429

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @emilysblunt go check them out❤️

Protection

“I can’t keep having the same argument with you” Reed huffs, pacing back and forth whilst Sue is sat on the edge of the bed, head in her hands and practically sobbing her eyes out over all of this.

“Clearly you don’t care then. If you can’t even bother to fight for this or make it right” she yells back, standing up now, practically toe to toe with her boyfriend.

“I don’t understand what you want from me. We already have something great and you want more now?” he sighs, resting his hands on his hips as he looks away.

The thing is, from an outsiders perspective. This relationship couldn’t be more perfect. Just two people madly in love. But to say the inside view is different would be an understatement. All Sue has ever wanted was security, knowing she’s loved and knowing that she’s taken care of but of course Reed has failed to provide that for quite some time now.

She’s been asking more about settling down, getting their own place or maybe even just moving in with him and talking about marriage and kids. You know, the future.

However her pestering has done more harm than good. It clearly struck a nerve with Reed, her boyfriend of 2 years. Almost 3. They’ve been together all this time and he still can’t treat her as though she’s the one.

It’s almost as if he’s allergic to a little commitment. Which if she asks him, he denies it, making up some excuse he concocted in that tiny pea brain of his.

Plus not only is Sue nagging but Johnny is too.

“When are you gonna ask my sister to move in?”

“Are you gonna pop the question or what?”

And now, Sue is at it again. With her questions and her theories about why he doesn’t want to live with her.

“Is it because you don’t love me? Is that it? Because if it is, i’d rather you just say it no-”

“Of course i love you Sue it’s never been about that” he snaps, making her step back out of fright. He rarely looses his cool. Something is definitely up with him.

“Well then, what is it? Why can’t you just commit to me”

“Maybe i just don’t want to live with you, is that so hard to understand?”

Her eyes widen as tears start to drown her vision out. She can feel her lips quivering.

“W-what?”

“You heard me. Now. Can we just forget about it?” how dare he. After all she’s given up for him.

“Oh we can forget about it alright. We’re done”

Before he can even convince her to stay, she’s collecting her stuff.

“Just because living together isn’t an option, doesn’t mean we can’t still make this work” he shouts from the bedroom whilst she’s in the closet and once she emerges from it, she rolls her eyes.

“Almost 3 years later and you still lack balls. I’m though with this. It’s over Reed. Have a nice life”

The door is slammed on her way out and all that’s left now is the memories they made together in this room. All of their fond memories. Memories of love and peace. True happiness. But not anymore. Now he’s all alone and he has no one else to blame but himself.

Sue stands outside of Reeds apartment, crying in the rain whilst also trying to see the screen of her cellphone, she needs to get away from here. And fast.

“Johnny, can you pick me up?”

“Please, i wouldn’t ask if i wasn’t desperate”

Shortly after, he hangs up, turning to you.

“Who was that on the phone?” you ask, strolling out of the bathroom drying your hair with the fancy white robe that has your initials threaded ever so beautifully on the upper left hand side wrapped around your damp body.

“It was Sue...” he draws the name out, clicking his tongue, unsure of how to say he has to abandon you for a while.

“Is everything okay?” you stand between his legs after tossing the towel into the hamper and he rests his hands on your waist “she needs me to pick her up from Reeds place”

But you have no issue with that. From the moment you and Johnny got together, it was abundantly clear how protective he is over Sue. Despite her being his older sister. He’s made it his duty to be there whenever she needs and from what he could hear over the phone, she needs him. Now more than ever.

“Go” you say softly, barely above a whisper as you lean down to press a quick kiss to his forehead.

“But, i don’t want to leave you. We had plans”

“Johnny, look at me. Go. She obviously needs her brother right now and who am i to interrupt that? Just know you can always bring her here if you want, i won’t mind. But whatever you decide, text me. Okay?”

He just stares up at you with pure adoration and respect. You’re everything to him and it shows.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I just really love you, so much” your heart warms and your knees turn to jelly.

“I love you too ya big goof, now go get your sister”

A quick make out session later and he’s on his way, speeding of course to get to her within record time. Once he arrives, he’s lost for words.

She gets into his car, sobbing like he’s never heard or seen before. Words aren’t even able to come out of her mouth and seeing as he got her from Reeds place, he must be to blame.

“What did he do to you?” he growls through gritted teeth, gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles turn white “Sue what did he do to you?” he asks again, hoping for an answer this time. So she starts to slow her breathing, wiping tears before turning to look at her younger brother with a look of heartbreak.

“I asked him about me moving in again” little pauses in between are taken for her to gather herself “we got into a huge argument about it and unlike our other ones, it ended in me finishing with him” she barely finishes the sentence without breaking back into hysterical crying.

Although she finished with him, she didn’t want to. She just couldn’t handle his inability to take their relationship seriously and take the natural next steps in their relationship.

As two grown adults, it’s only natural to move in with each other at this point. And he won’t do that, he’s unable to commit.

“Right, wait here” he unbuckles his seatbelt but Sue stops him before he can even get out “Johnny, no. This is over, i ended it. All i want is to go home” she pleads, pulling him closer. He gives her a hug before sighing and putting his seatbelt back on and turning the key in the ignition to pull out of the space he’s in.

“Where’s Y/N?” she asks, checking the back seat, as if somehow she missed any signs of someone else being in the car. What with all of her crying, it’s possible.

“She’s at her place, that reminds me actually, i’ll call her when we get home” he responds, weaving through the traffic and trying his best to get his sister home efficiently. She could really do with her own bed to relax as much as possible.

“Didn’t you have plans to stay at hers tonight?”

“Yeah, we planned a movie night. Why?” he says, stealing glances occasionally to check she’s okay.

“Omg, Johnny. I’m so sorry. You know what, drop me home and go back to her, I’ll be fine once i’ve got a huge glass of wine and a bubble bath” he can see right through her pretences, she’s only saying all of this to get him to do right by you. After all the two of you did have plans.

“No. I’m staying in with you. You need me right now. Y/N is fine, she told me to stay with you”

“Johnny, she’s also a priority. I’d hate for you to make plans and ditch just for me”

“I’m not ditching Sue, i’m being a supportive brother. I’m coming home with you and that’s final”

Wow. She’s never seen him so angry, so assertive.

Usually it’s her taking care of him all of the time. How the tables have turned.

“Did you eat with Reed before the argument or are you hungry?”

She shakes her head “i’m starving”

Pit stop at McDonalds it is then.

And as soon as food is devoured, she takes her bath and then gets ready for an early night, a much needed one for that matter.

Johnny sits on the edge of her bed, talking with her about everything that went down tonight.

“I don’t get it Johnny, almost 3 years with him and he still can’t commit to me. Why?” tears fill her eyes and he looks down, it’s hard to see her like this, knowing he can’t do anything to take the hurt away. All he can do is just hold her and tell her how much he cares.

“I don’t know, all i know is he’s a fool. You’ve done a lot for him, supported him during some hard times and he can’t even move in with you. It’s weird and i don’t trust him now”

“I love him so much” she pulls her legs to her chest, burying her face in between her knees and suddenly all the tears she’s held back for the last couple hours pour out.

“I know, come here” he scoots closer, holding her in his arms and rocking her back and forth to somehow soothe her.

“He’ll never hurt you again, i promise you that. I got you. Shhh” her tears wet his shirt until eventually she starts to feel sleepy, lying down and closing her eyes.

“I’ll always take care of you” he whispers, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he gets up to leave the room.

Nothing will ever hurt his sister again, he swears it.

-----------------------------

Fast forward, 2 years later and here you are. In bed with Johnny in the place you still don’t share together. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because you’re both still young, you don’t want to rush anything when you’re both so happy with how things are.

“Good morning baby” you hear as you sit up to find Johnny in the doorway, naked.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, huh?” you smirk, unable to refrain from biting your lip. He stalks towards you before joining you on the bed and pulling you on top of him.

“Johnny” you squeal, leaning down to kiss him and let’s just say, any time you kiss this man, it gets heated. How can it not when he looks so good.

“I say we ditch all plans of going out and stay in bed all day long”

You nod your head in agreement “won’t get no objections from me”

The two of you giggle, kissing once again before his phone interrupts the fun.

“Hello” he says, more like he’s asking a question than greeting someone “Sue? What now?” he groans, rolling his eyes to which you shove him for.

“As in the next hour? Why? Ugh fine, i’ll be there” he hangs up, chucking his phone down on the bed and getting off to head into the bathroom.

“What is it?”

“She wants me to join her for some job she’s doing for Victor”

“Can i know what job?”

“Not exactly, or at least not until i know the full story myself. I’m gonna shower, okay? Then i gotta go?”

You nod with a pout, not wanting him to leave. He’s been quite present lately with you. Never missing dates or important anniversaries and he’s been more charming than usual but now he’s leaving. You know that you weren’t gonna have him wrapped up in your apartment forever though.

He showers as quickly as possible, dressing himself in whatever clothes are left in your closet from this last week spent at yours.

“I love you, okay? I’ll come back afterwards to make it up to you” you stand on your tip toes, kissing him deeply before he really needs to leave “i love you too and you better”

And just like that, he’s gone.

-------------------------

“This better be good, or els-”

“Johnny”

“Victor” he mutters, Johnny has never been keen on Victor and it shows. The way the creep is constantly all over Sue like a rash trying to charm her all the time. It’s downright annoying and hard to watch.

He knows his game and he figured him out a long time ago.

“Johnny” Sue waltzes in, hugging Johnny the second she can.

“So, what am i here for?” he asks, taking a seat but now in walks Reed Richards and Ben Grimm. Ones a douche bag and the other is an even bigger douche.

“Oh i don’t think so, no way. What is he doing here?”

“Johnny, calm down. Reed presented an idea to Victor” Sue explains, even she’s keeping her cool more than he is and she’s the one that was left shattered by Reed.

“No. I refuse to be involved” he steps up to Reed, jaw clenched and fists ready to punch him “you know you’re lucky, if it were up to me then 2 years ago, you’d have had two black eyes and now, there’s nothing stopping me from beating your ass”

Ben separates the two, Reed wouldn’t of done shit. But Johnny certainly would have.

“I know, i messed up Johnny. Sue knows that too. I apologised. She moved on and now i just want to get through this without more aggravation”

He speaks sense but no way is he going to allow Sue to work with this man. He’s horrible, he’s never had an ounce of respect for her, if he did then he would never have allowed things to end the way they did and he would never have gotten involved romantically if he didn’t want to settle down.

“I don’t care. You and me, outside now” he pokes his chest, moving past Ben to get to him before he makes the first move by pushing Reed, sending him stumbling backwards.

“Not gonna fight back, huh? No balls left? Oh wait, you didn’t have any to begin with”

Sue widens her eyes as Victor and Ben chuckle a little. It’s funny seeing little old Johnny wound up like this but to see him mocking Reed, someone who’s been known to be stuck up. It’s amusing.

“I’m not gonna fight you Johnny, it’s not worth it” he holds his hands up in surrender.

“So it’s not worth it, just like you deemed my sister unworthy of your commitment then, is that it?”

“No, i loved your sister very much” he tries his best to talk Johnny out of punching him to the floor but it’s too late. His fist collides with his face. Sue yells, rushing to Reeds side instantly despite Victor being present, she’s always cared for Reed. Even after all that went down, he was her first love.

“Johnny. That was completely unnecessary” her scolding has him even more angry than he was a second ago.

“Unnecessary? Sue the bastard had it coming” his best efforts to justify his behaviour are just ignored like they mean nothing to her “Johnny, he’s a colleague now. And so are you. So you can either apologise and move on or go home. Maybe Y/N can talk some sense into you”

He scoffs, turning his head to the side and resting his hands on his hips and after a couple minutes of silence in which Sue spends cleaning Reeds bloody nose up, Johnny finally gives in.

“Fine. I’m sorry Reed”

Reed holds his hand out to shake Johnny’s and he obliges. Now maybe the work can commence.

------------------

Weeks after returning from space and Johnny is just starting to figure out his power, much like his sister, Reed and Grimm.

But one thing he just can’t figure out is what the hell is going on between Reed and Sue.

“Babe” he calls and you appear in the doorway to the living room “yes?” you ask, brows raised.

“Have you noticed Sue and Reed getting closer?” his brows furrowed, signalling that he’s thinking which is sometimes dangerous for Johnny, when he thinks to hard, he stresses and when he stresses sometimes it can trigger his power.

“I mean, they did used to date Johnny, they’re gonna have some kind of bond”

“Yeah but i mean, close as in flirty” he shudders at those words, the thought of his sister being flirty with a guy makes him cringe.

“I dunno, ask her what’s going on if you wanna know so badly”

“No. I can’t do that, i’ll be meddling and she hates when i do that”

You shrug at him now before going back to baking cookies.

You have a point and so does he, surely if he wants to know so badly he can just ask, Sue would probably prefer that as opposed to him snooping around but also it would still be seen as meddling which is wrong.

She swore she’d never go back to Reed and he swore to prevent her from doing so. After all, she deserves better and he can never commit.

Once he’s showered and up for the day, he agrees to meet Sue and the others at Reeds place to do some experimenting with these new abilities should he say.

“Whaddup sister, douchebag, rock” he pretends to tip his hat at them all as he enters but soon notices Reed and Sue stood awfully close.

“What’s all this then?”

They step back almost as if they repulse one another before turning to face Johnny “you’re here, great. We can get started” Sue smiles acting weirdly suspicious.

“Not until you two tell me what’s been up with you? You’ve been very cosy lately, what’s going on?”

Reed glances at Sue briefly before they both blurt out “we’re dating again”

Oh hell no.

“Not on my watch you’re not. Sue he hurt you i don’t get it”

“Johnny i get that you’re protective but i’m okay. I’m a grown woman and besides, we’re taking things very slow this time”

“She’s right, we aren’t going to rush anything and-”

“I swear, if you hurt her again, i won’t hold back, you’re a dead man” their faces inches apart and you can practically hear Reed gulp out of fear. Johnny isn’t usually taken seriously but with how he punched him weeks ago, Reed is certain he’ll live up to that promise and finish the job.

“I promise, i’ll take care of her, for real this time”

“You better”

Seconds later Grimm interrupts, coughing “if you two pussy’s are done having a moment, can we please get me out of this awful state”

“Aw what? You mean you don’t wanna remain a big rock forever?” Johnny smirks, waiting for Ben to growl and punch something “I suppose at least with your usual form, you’ll have ears”

Queue the rest of the day consisting of yelling and threats of fights. But they wouldn’t have it any other way.

All Johnny has to do is keep an eye on Reed.

------------------------------

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