#i enjoy talking about my fic cause it helps keeps me going but i dunno

[cookiecomics]

feeling like a sad noodle today

[thecapricunt1616]

Blue Lotus - SxC Fic - Chapter 2

♡ Summary: Carmy & Syd go horseback riding!!! Carmy's therapy friends push him to go for what he wants, his 'light at the end of the tunnel'

♡ W/C: 6,534

♡ Posted Date: 04/07/2024

♡ A/N: Hayoooo!!! I am too inspired... this has become a multi-chap fic hahaha I am havin' so much fun here!! Thank you @gingergofastboatsmojito for inspiring me to keep going!!! ILY! As per usual please know - this fic was inspired by THIS FIC here - Tucson by the GLORIOUS GINGER!!!! Go read that before you even THINK about reading this fic ok?! I love how I hate storer for the same reasons but im a sucker for writing a slowburn - I find myself screaming at MYSELF internally "make them kiss already!!!!" but they will KISSSS SHORTLY SO SHORTLY MY DEARSSSS !!! It will be a JUICY TAYLOR SWIFT DAYLIGHT ASS KISS OK!!!! THEY WILL ONLY SEE EACHOTHER FROM THEN ON!!!! Its gonna be a 'and I can still see it all in my mind all of you all of me intertwined I USED TO THINK LOVE WOULD BE BLACK AND WHITE BUT ITS GOLDENNNNNNN. We need Carmy to realize a few more things but then - he will be hozier level devoted to this woman even more then he already is, I hope you enjoy!!

♡ Warnings for BTC: Not really any? Like? LOL - Swearing?! Smoking cigarettes?! They just went horseback riding & carmy went to therapy- oh Ig talks of carmy getting hard LMAO but thats as crazy as we get this chapter. ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡

Stardust nudges his shoulder so hard he almost falls over, and he turns to look at her. His heart jumped into his throat, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. She was there, she was really there. 

“Uh-” he blinked a few times, to be sure that she wouldn’t disappear. “Syd? Hey..uh-” he felt his entire body buzzing with excitement. He couldn’t help the smile that took over his features. She looked… gorgeous. Carmen wasn’t sure there actually was a word in any human language ever to exist that could describe just how wonderful she looked. 

Her hair was in its natural state, she was wearing an adorable corduroy jacket, black jeans, and white sneakers. “You came to a farm…in those?” he motions to her shoes. 

She laughs a bit “Wow- it’s great to see you too, Carm. Didn’t realize you were…actually like living on a farm” she approached him carefully. 

“Shit- yes- fuck- It’s its so good to see you, Syd, C’mere” he pulls her into a tight, long hug. The smell of her lavender vanilla perfume nearly made him melt. 

“You’re like…tan- and…muscley now” She laughs a bit, squeezing his arm lightly. 

“Uh..” he pulled away, cheeks bright red. “Yeah uh.. It's like- fuckin hard t’ride a horse. And the um…” he rubbed his neck nervously “The uh cows.. They eat hay? Most the time, and so we need to move the bales during the morning for em, they’re like…. 75? 80 pounds? So moving like 10 back and forth every day helps. And I dont really.. Go inside? Here? Its like… uh.. Thats the therapy mostly, the animals- at least f’me” he said sheepishly. 

She nodded, looking around the stable. “That one behind you is yours? Shes been side-eying me creepily since I started talking” she pointed to Stardust. 

“Oh! Fuck sorry yea, well- no…not- not mine- I got ‘er t’trust me. But uh, yeah this is Stardust. She’s a super sweet girl” He explained. Stardust leaned in, sniffing Syds hair carefully. 

“Cute- All you’re missing is a hat” She teased.

He chuckled a bit,  “Ok, c’mon - why are you here, Syd” He said with a small smile, crossing his arms over his chest.

She shrugged, looking at the ground and kicking a rock out of the way with her shoe. “Cause…I was worried- I dunno…” She definitely wasn't going to get bold and tell him that she’d missed him, terribly.

“Ok…well now that y’here, and y’see i’m okay…wanna have some fun?” He asked, a small smile on his lips.

Syd looked back up at him, as if he had 3 heads. “Okay- Where is Carmen Berzatto- Not his… Weird alien clone- Camren Brazota” she said, laughing a bit “what do you mean fun?” She asked, and Carmy laughed, real, and genuine. 

“Well- If I didn’t change my view a little I’d never leave. So, yes, Syd, ‘a little fun never hurt noone’ - per my therapist. Shes fuckin annoying. I much prefer the horses.” He pet Star’s mane and she leaned into his touch.

“Holy shit” Syd laughed a bit. “Wow- alright. I feel like you’re a whole new man already, what kind of fun?” she mused. 

“Ever ridden a horse?” he walked over to the saddle rack, pulling off a double seated one and hanging it over the back of the stall door. 

“No- Actually, Don’t I need um…like - stuff for it?” she asked. 

“Oh don’t think I wont give you the full experience” he opened the riding closet, “Whats your shoe size?” he asked, crouching down and looking through the pairs of extras. 

“8? Er- 9 probably 9” she said. He dug through them until he found a matching pair.

“These should do, y’stuff is cool here we can just leave it in her stall” he told her, holding out his arm for her to hold while she switched her shoes.

“You seem like…” she said as she slipped off her sneaker and put on the boot. “I dunno…chill- well- i wont go that far- but chill-er then before.” Carm snorted a laugh, holding on to her arm to steady her. 

“Thanks? I guess..that’s good right?” He asked. 

“Yeah! Yeah of course…I mean, it’s nice. To see you not so…anxious.” She said, slipping the other boot on. 

“Yeah I um…” he cleared his throat, opening the stall door. “I uh..I’m takin meds- Now? Uh..all this shit. Y’know they have me like tranquilized more then these guys” he said and she laughs, Carmen smiled proudly at the fact, relishing in the wonderful sound. 

“But yeah like Like 3 er..er 4. they say I had all this uh..mental shit. Goin’ on w’me and that’s why I was all…wound up I guess” he explained, calling Star out and getting her harness situated. 

Syd caught herself staring at his arms as he worked, how the toned muscle moved beneath the fabric of the shirt. 

“Aren’t you freezing?” She asked, noticing he wasn’t wearing a jacket like she was. 

“Used to it now, well- I mean the moving around. It gets hot this shit is heavy. Wanna try to hold the saddle?” He asked, unhooking the saddle from the stall door where he’d left it momentarily. 

“It can’t be that bad” she countered. 

“I think this thing weighs probably as much as you do.” He said “hold out your arms” he smiled a bit. 

She lifted her arms out in front of her and he plops the saddle down, she had to plant one of her feet forward so she didn’t fall face first due to the sudden weight and he laughed, catching the saddle quickly and baring most the weight. 

“Told you” he teased. 

She rolled her eyes “yeah whatever. Saddle up the horse, cowboy” she dropped the saddle back in his arms. He hurled the saddle over Stars back with a grunt. 

“Fuckin hell” he huffed, realizing since the saddle was nearly double the weight as his usual, and being on the shorter end- he couldn’t just get it on her when she was standing straight. “Bow” he told the horse and she just stared at Sydney. 

“Don’t embarrass me, Star. Bow” he told her and she looked the other way. 

“So uhhh…this one’s trained, huh?” Sydney teased. 

Carmen looked back at her “mmhmm maybe she doesn’t like strangers” he said, walking over to the other side. 

“Since she’s bein difficult y’gonna have T’help. C’mere” he waved her over and she followed. “So when I push it up, just grab the saddle pad and make sure it doesn’t move, yea?” He asked. 

“The fuck is a saddle pad, dude- I know my way around a kitchen not a fuckin horse stable.” She looked at the many different layers the horse was already wearing. 

“Alright. So this,” he lifted the cloth, “is her blanket. Keeps her core warm. And beneath it” he pats the pad “this is her saddle pad, it makes it more comfortable. So our bones aren’t like..diggin in her back and shit. Also shock, when she jumps the foam of it helps our weight disperse. The saddle is so big and heavy I can’t keep the pad still at the same time, so just hold it f’me,” he took her hand, guiding it to where he wanted her to hold. 

She felt her heartbeat quicken, his hands were so large and calloused on top of her own. She nodded wordlessly, keeping her eyes trained on where she was meant to be holding and focusing on keeping it steady as he went back around and carefully lifted up the heavy saddle with a grunt, laying it over the horses back. 

“Jesus- how much can this thing carry” Syd asked. 

“Well she is a mare, she weighs about…mmm- 1900? She can comfortably hold about 400 pounds for a decent distance but she can’t do that for hours and hours at a time. We together can’t be more then 300, and her gear is less then 100 pounds. Were just goin f’r a quick ride, I gotta get to therapy at 3” he explained as he buckled on her saddle. 

“Ah. So you’ve been memorizing horse information instead of creating recipes? I figured when I got here you’d have gone nuts by now without being in a kitchen so long” she gently touched the horses mane as she spoke. 

“Maybe. Well…I am kinda goin crazy? But I can’t…let it out?” He chuckled a bit “does that make sense? Nights are a little hard before my sleep meds kick in but that just says I haven’t done enough that day” he got up. “So y’gettin up first since I’m sittin in back” he explained. 

“Oh…uh- ok how do I?” She asked looking up at the at least 7 foot tall animal. 

“Y’not gonna be able to do it alone. C’mere” he told her. She comes over and looks at him. 

“How the fuck do you do this?” She looked up at the saddle that was at the top of her head before looking back at him. 

“So-“ he snorts a laugh at her wide confused expression. “She’s not gonna like you trying to roll up on her back, and I don’t want you t’get thrown off, she can be moody with new people. I almost broke my shoulder my first time trying to ride her” he said and she crossed her arms slightly. 

“So how. How do I get up there?” She asked. He pulled out a step stool, setting it next to the horse and getting up on the third step. 

“I’m giving you a lift. Arms up” he said with a playful smirk. 

“No- no way- Carmen that’s too high. You’ll drop me!!” She took a step back, feeling slightly nervous. 

“I won’t because I’ll bribe her Syd. C’mere” he pulled a pack of peep marshmallows out of his pocket and the horse nearly starts dancing. 

“Carm- what the fuck is happening?” She asked and Carmy chuckled. 

“Bow. Cmon Syd wants t’ride. Bow and you’ll get y’treat star.” He told the horse. 

It obediently bowed down and before Syd could process what was happening, Carm was scooping her up beneath her arms Syd squealed in surprise. “Oh my GOD WHY ARE YOU PICKING ME UP!” She shrieked, wiggling in his arms. 

“open y’legs! Cmon! she’s gonna get up!!!” Carmen laughed holding her up higher. Syd finally obeyed and he gently plopped her on the first saddle. “Good girl” he told the horse, feeding her the marshmallow and putting the packet in his pocket again before swiftly getting on behind Syd. 

“Alright. Hard part done.” He reached around her waist, and she lifted her arms slightly. 

“What- can you tell me what’s going on? I’m a horse virgin!” She said, and they both went quiet for a moment, before cracking up laughing. Syd leaned to her left slightly as she tried catching her breath, grabbing the rein for stability and tugging. 

Star took off sprinting, Syd screamed in surprise, her body going tight with fear. Carmen quickly wrapped his arms around Syds waist protectively, tugging on the reigns “WOOOOAH!” He called to Star and she quickly came to a stop. 

“Stand.” He told the horse firmly. 

“What the fuck Carm I thought she was trained!” Syd exclaimed, gripping onto his forearms for dear life. 

“I gotchu, you think I’d let her kick you off?” He tightened his arms around her. Carmen swore his heart was thumping so hard that she felt it on her shoulder blade. 

“Also when she moves it’s hard to keep still.” She said nervously. 

“Don’t worry, I gotchu, Syd. Lean into me, if our weight is centered then it’ll be easier for all 3 of us” he gently pushed at her stomach. 

She leaned back into his broad chest, “see” he said softly. He was lucky the angle didn’t allow for her to see him, because his face was bright red, And having her body pressed against his…was making him flush somewhere else too. 

He clicked his tongue and Stardust started walking again, at an easy comfortable trot. “This…is ok.” She said, much more comfortable now. 

“I’m gonna take you t’one of my favorite spots.” He said, pulling on the reins to the left lightly so she would follow the left trail. 

“Wow, already sharing secret spots huh? I think this therapist may just be Doctor of the year I don’t even think I’ve seen your favorite Chicago spots” she teased. 

Carm laughed a bit, he felt so much lighter with Syd around. And life had been lighter ever since he got here. 

“How is…uh- how is it back home?” He cleared his throat lightly. It was something that had being weighing on him. Yes, he was here, he was doing the thing. He was making Sugar happy. He was making Syd happy…but he would go back, at some point. 

And his biggest fear was things will just go right back. He won’t have this outlet, he won’t have sunset rides with Stardust to ease his mind. He won’t have the cows happily running up to him and greeting him when he was the first one to bring out a bale of hay. He felt like if he was here, he may have the confidence to tell Syd how he feels. But back home? It was another life. 

“Fine..things are..y’know. The usual shit. But nothing bad, no one’s getting locked in any freezers if that’s what you mean” she said playfully. 

Carm rolled his eyes with a light smile. “Mmhmm. So the restaurant is-“ 

“Is fine.” She said. “I’d have told you. You know that.” She said and he nodded a bit. 

“I know she scared you back there…but it’s pretty fun to go fast. You wanna try?” He asked. 

She shifted a bit uncomfortably, her hands tightening around his arms that were holding the reins around her waist. “Uhh…maybe? Are you sure we won’t fall off?” She questioned. 

“I’m sure. Here you can be the one to control it. Start light ok? With your legs.” He gently ran his hands down her thighs to right below her knees “here” he said softly, squeezing the flesh gently so she wouldn’t have to lean and look. “With that part of your legs, give her a little squeeze. But really light, or we’ll take out of here like a bat out of hell” he held around her waist again, securely holding the reins. 

“Mmhmm” she said, she was beginning to feel hot- and not because she’d done any hard work in regards to getting the horse ready. 

“Alright. Whenever you’re ready, you’re the boss” he said the last part softly in her ear. If it wasn’t for her jacket, he would see the goosebumps that had risen on her arms. She nodded quickly, staring straight ahead and trying to maintain her composure. 

“So I just?” She squeezed gently and the horse picks up her speed slightly. “Oh…ok” she said. 

“Told y’she was trained” Carmy teased and she rolls her eyes. 

“Mmm you’ve done a very good job, bribing this horse with peeps. The staff know you do this?” She asked. Carmy snorted a laugh

“No. But she’s healthy. Made sure. She only gets one or 2 if she doesn’t listen.” He admitted. 

She shook her head with a smile. “And how’d you find this out, Carm?” She leaned into him once more. 

“I…” he laughed a bit, his chest vibrating with the movement and it made her heart warm. 

“I uh…spent a few days in the library here. Reading up. After she threw me off. It’s all about trust with em. So I never lied to ‘er and I’ve never done something she didn’t expect because I always try to warn her.” He said, pulling her reigns a bit tighter. 

“This is like a joyride Syd cmon, I said fast not an evening stroll.” He teased. 

“Fine. Mister horse master- show me what Miss Stardust can do.” She said. 

With 2 kisses and a quick tap of his heel, they were off like a rocket. He held Syd steady, being sure she wouldn’t have to do most the work of holding herself center as he gripped each reign with the opposite hand, holding them taught so Star knew to keep going. 

Syd laughed, the wind flicking her dark curls all around. He wished she could see her amused expression. “Holy shit this is the best!” She shouted over the loud thuds of Stars hoofbeats. 

“I know right! Can you believe she can go faster?” He said, holding his knees taut around her hips to keep her from sliding. 

“Okay we are not! This is fine!” She said and sat up a bit “are we going into the-” She asks as Star begins to barrel through a creek, the freezing water spraying up and around them getting them slightly wet, the freezing water splashing from their calves up to their cheeks.. “CARMY!” She screams through laughter. 

He could barely catch his breath as he laughed so hard his stomach and ribs ached. “I’m sorry!! Syd! Oh god-“ he chuckled “woah girl- woah” he called to the course and she slowed down once again to a stop. 

“Fuck-“ Carmen chuckled “you okay?” He asked, picking a wet leaf from her jacket and throwing it to the forest floor. 

“Yeah- I’m.. I’m fine. That was really fun actually. C’mon I wanna see the spot” she said and took it upon herself to tug the reins so Star would take off again

“Shi-it!” He quickly finds his balance, “warn me!! Oh god I almost flew off!!” He told her. 

“You think I’d let her throw you off?” She mimics him from earlier and he takes the chance to playfully pinch her waist 

“Yes because who’s in back and who’s in front?” He wrapped his arms around her again, taking the reins from her grasp. “Your reign privileges have been revoked for this riding lesson, Ms.Adamu”  

She laughed a bit “I’ll earn them back. Don’t worry” she mused. 

“Mmm we need to talk about more shit before I just literally hand the reins over. Coulda spooked her and we’d be fuckin dead.” he angled the outside reigns so she’d slow down as they came to the clearing. 

“Here we are” he hopped off, raising his arms to help her down. 

She carefully reached out for him and he lifted her off, gently setting her down. “Holy fuck Carmy” she turned around, watching the waterfall cascade down over the rocks. 

“Right! Told you. It’s a fire spot” he went over to one of the rocks he usually sat at, plopping down and taking out a cigarette. “Oh- shit- can’t have y’running off” he told Stardust and chuckled, leaving the cigarette between his lips as he walked over to her, guiding her over to the tree, and hooking her right rein around a branch before sitting back down. 

“Yeah…I can’t remember the last time I went somewhere so…” she trailed off, looking at all the trees and running water. 

“Green?” Carmy lit his cigarette, taking a drag. “Not packed with smog? Somewhere that doesn’t smell like shit.” He said as he exhaled. 

“…yeah” she said and laughed a bit. “Yeah. Guess that’s it.” She came and sat next to him. “What did you mean about her getting scared?” She asked curiously. 

“Oh- a scared horse will fucking kill you. Not on purpose, but they’re big and pure muscle, and will do anything to get away from danger. I scared the shit out of her one time, that was it. Dislocated my shoulder 8th day here. Doing that hurts like a bitch by the way.” He rolled his shoulder gently. 

“How’d you manage that? God I knew you were shit at chatting up girls but she dislocated your shoulder?” She teased. 

He rolled his eyes with a playful smile, taking another drag. “Yes, I was fuckin around on the trail, dunno why- but there was this branch sticking out so I grabbed it, it snapped, she fuckin reeeared dude. I flew back so hard. My back might still be bruised I’m not sure. Still hurts a little to laugh” he said. 

“You better have seen a doctor” she said. 

“Ohhh silly Syd.” He sighed, a puff of smoke filling the air in front of him. “We aren’t allowed to refuse treatment here. If you get hurt, and you refuse to get help, it’s considered self harm, which leads to them believing you have suicidal ideation, which leads to you being locked in the actual nuthouse. So yes. I willingly went to the doctor daily for a week. And now, I’m being checked on once a week. So yeah. Oh and therapy daily. And every day I’m given my meds and someone checks over ‘pre-existing injuries’ which that is now considered. So yeah. I’m good. I’m fuckin fine as fine can be.” He said. 

“Awww poor little chef, being taken care of so well that’s so hard isn’t it?” She teased and he gives her a playful glare, but couldn’t help but crack a smile when he realized she was smiling too. 

“I was being taken care of fine at home by myself but you and my sister just had to ship me off after one tiny accident” he leaned back on his hand, taking another drag of his cigarette. 

“It stops becoming an accident when you didn’t care, Carm. You didn’t care. It didn’t phase you. You weren’t even…you weren’t even scared. Just because you didn’t do it on purpose doesn’t mean you did the sane thing which would have been doing everything you could to not let something like that happen.” She said, her tone suddenly serious. 

He looked down at his lap, swallowing thickly. He suddenly felt all of the armor he’d spent the last 31 days chipping at, slowly start to meld back together and shell him back in at the shame the whole situation was making him feel. 

“I have nightmares…you know. About it. What happened” she said quietly, and he could physically feel his heart ripping open. 

The only sound between them was the bubbling stream, and the sounds of their even breaths. 

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly, gaze fixed on his lap knowing he would burst into tears at the admission she’d been so deeply plagued by something he’d done, if he had looked at her.

“I know” was all she said, gently resting her hand on top of his. He felt the same fireworks exploding in his chest that he only ever felt when she was around. 

“Do you um…” he clears his throat and shook his head, embarrassed by the question plaguing his mind. “Never mind it’s..it’s stupid.” He removed his hand, putting his cigarette in it and resting the hand opposite of her on the rock. 

“That usually means it’s not stupid. What?” She coaxed, bumping his knee with hers gently. 

“It’s stupid” he said again, shrugging his shoulders. 

“It can’t be stupider then asking me what UPS means” She said playfully. He rolled his eyes, smiling and looking over at her. 

“And what if it is?” He questioned. 

“I would be..worried they’re giving you a bad concoction of meds that’s turning your glorious chef brain in to Swiss cheese” she teased 

He snorts a laugh. “I was gonna ask..if you wanted to cook..t’night. My cabin…it uh- has a kitchen? I haven’t cooked in a month. They give us food so I haven’t really bothered but…seeing you makes me miss it more, I guess” he blushed, looking back down at his lap. 

“Well obviously. Not gonna let you eat whatever bullshit they’ve been giving you while I’m around.” She said and he shook his head, meeting her gaze once more with a playful smirk. 

“Maybe you should check in. My therapist says it’s bad apparently to feel ‘responsible for others’ - says it’s a ‘subconscious self harming behavior’ “ he teased. 

She smiled a bit. “Okay- say I do. How about, I check in now, we shoot the shit for what- eleven more days- then, you go back home- and see how stressful it is in that restaurant when one of your hands is basically missing” she plucked the cigarette bud he’d forgotten about from between his fingers before it burnt him, flicking it into the creek. 

“You know that’s the first time I’ve seen you smoke- other then…me like checking on you when you were about to explode at work. But you’ve never…pulled one out and smoked it I guess” she said, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her cheek on her forearm as she looked at him. 

“Oh…” he said, pulling one of his legs up and resting his arm on it. “Didn’t realize you noticed” he said, brushing some dirt off his jeans. 

“I notice a lot of stupid shit about you, it’s kinda annoying honestly.” She said without thinking, her eyes widening when she realized and she looked the other way, resting her other cheek on her knee and squeezing her eyes shut. 

Why would you ever say that?! She asked herself internally. 

“Oh?” He said again, smiling a bit. “You do?” He questions, but that was as far as he’d push. 

“Mhm” was all she responded. Carmys phone started buzzing in his pocket and he pulled it out in case it was one of the ‘base keepers’ they called them. Carmy rather call them babysitters. He knew what they were for, being sure if they were out of sight too long they were making sure they could still get ahold of them. 

He sighed in relief when he saw it was just his 2:40 alarm. “Gotta go” he stood up, offering his hand to Syd. “Like- now. Or my ass is getting chewed out.” 

The ride back to the cabins was mostly silent. He had no stool this time, so he had to pick up Syd essentially by the ass and gently place her on Stars back so she didn’t get spooked. 

He was embarassed as fuck that the tiny action had the crotch region of his jeans tightening more then was casually explainable. Thank god no one was around to see him awkwardly hop in the way of his semi hard third leg down his left pant leg, grunting but covering it with a dry cough when she settled her ass back into him to ‘center their gravity’ 

Syd absolutely felt the firmness pressing into her ass. She thought it was a bit funny, but also brushed it off to the strange friction that came with riding a horse. She couldn’t allow herself to fully believe his teenage like excitement was due to her, or she’d go insane. 

Carmy dropped Syd off at his cabin, giving her the key and telling her he’d put up Stardust and be back by 5, she would be blushing if it weren’t for her mahogany complexion at the domesticity of it all - er what she could imagine domesticity with Carmy would feel like. 

Her panties were also soaked through from the feeling of his enormous length pressed into the curve of her ass - the entire way back - but she just chalked that up to not getting laid for a few months, and misreading his natural arousal for him being horny- she quickly pushed the thought down and just chalked it up to the horse. Because guys get hard when they ride horses…right? Right?!

Carmen arrived to therapy extremely frustrated, and extremely ready to talk. He sat down in his regular spot in the back, tapping his knee nervously and covering his crotch with his hands. Luckily, thinking about his mother was enough to make him soft nearly instantly so he had that to thank her for at least. 

“Alright guys!” Julienne, the usual Friday therapist came in, sitting in her spot in the circle. “Who is up today! We are-“ she looks at her iPad “oh! Yes this is another OP class, so- no pressure but, I wanna hear what’s goin on!” She crossed her legs. 

Julie was far from his favorite therapist, at Blue Lotus. But he wasn’t his least favorite. So he would still talk. He cleared his throat, raising his hand slightly. 

“Carmy?! What a treat! Okay what’s up” she grabbed her little stylus pencil. He bit the inside of his lip nervously. He despised how casual she tried to make this all feel. 

“Uh…so- my um…business partner, she came to see me. I guess I haven’t been…keeping touch? Enough? She just said she was worried…” he cleared his throat again, gaze fixed on his lap. “And uh…I’m startin’ t’-t’realize stuff?” He sniffled nervously, rubbing his mouth with slightly clammy, nervous hands. 

“She uh..” he chuckled a bit. “She…she just…showed up. Didn’t hear shit from ‘er. She probably knew that I’d uh…I’d tell ‘er no?” He finally meets the gaze of Julie. 

“Okay. You know guests are allowed right? Like- during the visiting hours, 6am to 11pm, no fraternizing between patients but-“ Carmen cuts her off

“We aren’t - no. Not fraternizing” He shook his head. “But uh…today? We were- we were sitting. This spot, near uh, Jupiter point? On the north side. And I had this- this urge T-to tell her…everything.” He shook his head, looking at the floor again. 

“So…you wanted to tell her you love her?” Jesse, one of the guys he’d had lunch with a few times piped up. 

“T’be honest, I don’t know.” Carmen said honestly, looking at him. 

“Well what does it feel like?” Jesse asked, sitting up a bit. 

“What? Like- what does what feel like?” Carmen asked curiously. 

“Her. Being with her. Talking to her? Inside. Like. Your chest. Your skin?” He questioned. 

“Uh…” Carmen sat back, swallowing thickly and crossing his arms over his chest. He thought for a moment. 

“Hot. I get hot. All over. My chest feels tight but - but good? Like- a hug almost. And then…when she…” he blushed, looking down with a shy smile. “When she touches me” he shook his head slightly. “When she touches me it’s like um.. fireworks? Like fireworks beneath my skin.” He chuckled a bit at how cheesy it sounded. 

“And you haven’t fucking nailed her?” Jessie asked plainly. 

Carmen furrowed his brows, glaring at him. “No” he clenched his jaw “I haven’t.” He snips. 

“Dude- you are- pussy whipped with no pussy?! You- you love her, Carmen. You love this chick. I feel like I’m looking in a weird straight mirror - the first time-“ he laughed a bit “the first time I kissed a guy- god. He was so hot. But I had no idea! I had no idea. I really thought that I was just-“ he shook his head “that I was just wanting to befriend him? Or something? But like- I wanted to fuck him. And when I did kiss him? Something unlocked in my brain dude. It was like…like a whole new world. I felt like I knew - I knew what love could feel like? Just ‘cause of that one kiss “ he shrugged. 

Carmen looked at him, arms crossed, trying to absorb everything he was saying even though every fiber of his former self was screaming to take it with nothing more than a grain of salt. 

“Kiss her dude. Kiss her.” Jesse said and sat back in his chair. 

“Well. Although, consensual sexual instances are against the code of conduct to discuss - I am very proud to see you two coming out of your shells. Has anyone else felt… confused in their romantic endeavors and would like to share?” Julie asked. 

Carmen crossed his arms tighter, looking down at his lap. This was quite unusual for him, he was one of the patients to only add what he had to to be credited during inpatient, and during outpatient - only spoke when he really and honestly had to. 

“Uh-“ the super tall girl, Shayna sits up. Carmen was never really sure why she was here. She looked…perfect by all means. Perfect skin, perfect nails, pretty face, long blonde hair, a perfect body by girl standards. Or at least what Carmen had understood of them.

 “Not really the same.. but before I came out? I like…I would uh buy…girl clothes. That I liked. For my girlfriends at the time…” she blushed “and um.. I realized after a while that I liked them. And I wasn’t just..wanting to see my girlfriend in them. And like- it’s not the exact same, but when he said… about how Jesse realized he wanted the guy. That’s how I felt when I finally tried the clothes on” she shrugged. 

Carmen was…aghast. He just simply stared at her. He’d never met- or thought-  he’d ever met a trans person before today. But…Shayna? 

Well- he was wrong because he had met her, they actually knew each other fairly well as far as patients go, she joined the program when he did. When they first met, she’d made a joke about how they were the tallest girl and shortest guy in the class, so that meant they were bound to be friends, since opposites attract - and that earned a chuckle out of him before his meds had even fully evened out. 

“I love the cis-and-confused look- it’s cute” she said and laughed a bit. Carmen blushed, smiling a bit. 

“Not confused- well, maybe. Maybe a little. Y’Just so…dainty? I dunno..” he shrugged. 

“In case you haven’t noticed- mr.little man syndrome- you’re only one out with the cows doing the hay on time in the morning. Ninty percent of the group is your version of dainty ” Jesse teased. 

“Jesse” Julie gives him the look. “I’d assume that means- the rest of you that aren’t out helping with the bales- are scraping out the cow pens? Since Carmen is doing all the hard work according to you.” 

“I’m not girl- fuck no! The second I got out of inpatient house arrest? I walked my happy ass down to Walmart and bought me some blackout curtains. I recommend those to all of you! Oh my god and some ear plugs!! The stupid fucking roosters! Worst 15 days of my lifeee! I’m never coming back here peace and love to you all though. Truly. Can’t stand this cow shit stank ass place.”  Shayna said dramatically, causing Carmen to chuckle a bit.

 He had loved her boldness since they’d met. If Shayna didn’t want to do something- she wasn’t doing it. He learned that the day the staff tried to force her on anti-depressants. One of the main therapists got a Wellbutrin straight to the eye, they never attempted that battle the same way again. 

“We know Shayna you aren’t shoveling scat, princesses don’t do that” Jesse mocked her valley girl tone. 

“Okay! Okay. Alriiiight! Back on track- done with the bickering!” Julie said. “Now that open call is over let’s move on to breakthroughs. This issss-“ she looks at her iPad “ah- yes! D group. So. That makes it-“ he checks her watch “ah- right. 11 days! How are your light tunnel projects going?” She questioned. 

Carmen’s chest tightened, but not in the Syd is smiling or he made Syd laugh way- in the - I haven't done something I was meant to do way. 

The Light Tunnel project wasn’t hard. It was simply one thing you have done that you had wanted to do when you came into the program. And Carmy knew what his answer was, 

Admit how he felt to Sydney. 

Or, as his Therapist- Mandy told him ‘become more truthful with yourself and those you know about how you feel’ because “counting on someone to like him back would put him at square one” he had pretended to understand, but knew that he had to tell her and soon - or he was going to really go insane. 

“ my light tunnel was to talk to my asshole father- but lucky for me I just caught wind the motherfucker finally died thank god. So by default I win and don’t have to be here anymore cause his abandonment was what fucked me up anyhow“ Shayna said jokingly, causing Carm to snort a laugh. He knew she was only joking about the leaving early part, not the father part. Her father was an even bigger piece of shit then Carmen’s was, he had come to learn.

“Mmm that isn’t how it works we know that Shayna. We’ll talk more about this in one to one “ Julie told her and Shayna crossed her long legs, looking out the window. 

The last 20 minutes of the session Carmen sat silently, looking out the opposite window to Shayna, watching the horses running around in the field before they got called in for dinner and just spacing out, thinking about what he may say to Syd. 

“Yo - Carm space cadet” Shayna said before kicking his boot he jumped a bit, looking up at them both and had realized the room since had cleared and Julie was preparing for her next session. 

“Shit.” He said “how long have I been like…like that?” He asked, his cheeks feeling hot. 

“It’s the OCD meds. They get you stuck in a happy thought loop sometimes. Are you just gonna sit here? You wanna do another hour of this with sniveling group a? They got here three days ago.” Jesse said. Carm shook his head, getting up. 

“No- no sorry” he said starting with them outside. Shayna laughed a bit 

“You were thinking of screwing that business partner aren’t you. “ she said, causing Carmys cheeks to go pinker. 

“Shayna shut up!” Jesse scolded, pushing her shoulder lightly. 

“Awwww carmyyy are your feelings hurt little buddy? Do you need a hug? Jesus men are such pussys” she pushed open the doors of the therapy cabin for them. 

“Let me see pictures of this hot chick. If you don’t fuck her I will and I bet I’d do a better job” Shayna teased as they started heading back towards the cabins. 

Carmen couldn’t even process what she said as he felt his breath get caught in his chest, he saw her. She was sitting on the porch of his cabin, criss-cross in one of the rocking chairs as she writes in her notebook. He couldn’t help but stop and stare at the way the setting sun hit her bronze skin, her curls casting intricate patterned shadows on the wood. He felt his heart pick up, his chest squeezing in that way, the way that only happened when he saw her. 

Shayna and Jesse stopped after a few moments when they realized Carm had gotten stuck behind. They both follow his gaze carefully to see what he was so fixed on, like a trance. 

“Holy fuuuck!!! Holy fuck how did I get this lucky!! She’s here? She’s here still?!” Shana asked excitedly, “oh my god- you’re getting laid- tonight” she excitedly skips up to the cabin and Syd looks up, locking eyes with her before seeing Carmen just a few paces behind.  “I’m Shayna! Do you and Carm wanna hang out with us tonight?”

➵ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡♡♡

[panfluidme]

One shot request: (no death) Martin and Chris were like really far from the Tortuga and Martin gets injured (potentially fatal) and all Chris can do is to try and save him/protect him until they can get proper help. Martin also starts rambling about silly stuff while it's happening (examples: his favourite creature, what he'll get Chris for his birthday) also I love all your wild kratts angst fics 💗💗

I'm so sorry this has taken me for fucking ever, lol

I hope that you enjoy this. I kinda went off prompt

CAN'T THINK RIGHT

Martin was losing blood, quick. And Chris could see that. Him losing blood was absolutely terrifying; pulled right out of his nightmares. The color made him feel sick; why did it make him feel so sick?

Chris pressed his hands against Martin's side, trying so hard to keep himself as calm as he can be. This was a lot for the young man. His fear was strong, tears welled up in his chocolate brown eyes, but he needed to keep himself calm for Martin.

The older hummed softly. He stared at Chris as he blinked rapidly to in a vain attempt to get rid of the black dotting his vision. He let out a giggle, causing the younger to pause then look at his face.

"What are you giggling at?"

"Chris is so funny. He whined when it was purple martins or when he was blueeee."

The man in question blinked, confused. "Why do you bring it up?"

"I dunno. It's just funny. He whined lots over it. I do feel bad cause there's no animal that has Chris in the name." Martin let his head lull back.

"Deep breaths and stay awake, okay? I'm going to call Aviva here in a moment." Chris grabbed his Creature Pod with one hand and dialed Aviva.

"Hola," the inventor greeted cheerfully.

"Martin's hurt. A tiger bit him and cut up his legs."

"I'm on the way. Where are you?"

"I threw a sandwich and the tiger went after it. I found a ditch. We're hiding inside."

Aviva nodded and shouted at Jimmy to hurry. "I'll send a first aid kit over."

Chris nodded and looked at Martin, giggling to himself. "Avivaaaaa! I got Chris a blanketttt!"

"For?" she asked while searching.

"His birthday."

She chuckled. "Yeah?"

"It's a green lizard."

"I'm sure he'll love it." Aviva sent the first aid kit to them. She looked off screen and sighed. "I gotta go. Keep him awake and talking."

Chris nodded as he used the limited supplies to stabilize Martin for the time being. She hung up to tell Jimmy exactly where to go. Martin kept giggling and pointing out random things.

"Chrisssss!"

"Yes?"

"The sky's blue," he said so simply, Chris couldn't help but start laughing. "I like blue. I like green cause green makes you happy. I like when you're happy."

Chris stared at him then smiled softly. "Really?"

Martin nodded. "I don't like green more than I like blue, blue's better than green in lotsa ways, but it makes you soooooo happy, I can't not like it. You bein' happy always makes me happy, even if I'm upset with you for whatever reason. You're my favorite person," Martin's voice was getting a little weak.

"And you're my favorite person. So you gotta live for me, okay?"

"M'kay." He coughed a little then smiled at Chris. He poked Chris' cheek. "'Member when you learned how to ride a bike?"

"I do." Chris nodded.

"I'm sorry for getting you in trouble cause I accidentally wrecked the bike. I wanted to ride and I didn't have a bike. I was just too big for you baby bike. I did talk to mom an' dad to explain what happen, which is why your punishment disappeared."

Chris chuckled a little and put his forehead against Martin's cheek. He noticed that Martin's eyes were drooping. "Stay awake for me, okay?"

"I'm tryin'. It's hard."

"I'm sure it is."

The two could hear the Tortuga arrive.

[tillthelandslide]

Same For You (6): The Dinner

Series Masterlist

(5) Changing Roads

Series Warnings: slow burn romance, eventual smut, age gap, complicated relationship (low-key unhealthy dynamics), eventual love...

Taglist: @scooby-doodoo @thereisaplaceintheheart @theoriginalwhatsername @eaglestar31 @thefrontofmymind @fallingforel @partoftheairforce @procrastinatinglikeapro @poisonmedaddy13 @xthe1975 @all-things-fic @jstbeeingme

a/n: here it is everyone!!!! i hope you're ready... things are getting spicyyyyyy (kind of? maybe not i dunno hahah) anywayyyy i love this series and am actually proud of my work for once. Again part 7 is ready to post, i'll be posting it once this has 100 notes :) hope you enjoy, love you all TONS - Lou <3

Being invited back to Charli and George's for dinner wasn't really part of her plan. When the pair met up for a few casual lunch time drinks, Y/n hadn't anticipated being invited back to her house. But Charli was determined if nothing else. She insisted that it wasn't a hassle and George was already planning on cooking food for the couple so one more addition wouldn't hurt. She remembers the brief comment from George about Charli wanting her to have dinner with the couple but she hadn't anticipated it happening so quickly.

She had been to two solo studio sessions and two group sessions, but she still hadn't expected the couple the be so persistent. Not that she was complaining, but slowly the people she once idolised, the people who created music that helped her, were becoming friends and the feeling was foreign, the imposter syndrome she was feeling was unsettling.

Y/n insisted on at least bringing something to contribute, so the girls picked up a bottle of red wine before they jumped in an Uber to Charli's house.

The last thing she was expecting when entering their house was to see one Ross MacDonald lounging in their living room, legs spread casually causing one too many unsavoury thoughts to cloud her mind at the sight. In some alternate universe, one where she's not really her, and her two friends aren't staring at her avidly, she'd be able to go up to the man and drape herself over his lap. In some alternate universe, he would tuck in his head into her neck and attack the skin with kisses, making her giggle, she'd get hot under the collar when those large hands would find her hips and he'd mumble a "miss you" before smearing his lips against her.

"Y/n!" She hears him say cheerfully, snapping her out of her thoughts as he leaves his spot on the sofa and stands to hug her, she can't help but get that feeling in her stomach when he says her name. It takes him all but three strides before he's in front of her. She cranes her neck to look at the man and she wishes more than anything that she could tear her eyes away. He's dressed in black jeans and a cozy brown knit jumper and she can see the collar of the black t-shirt he's wearing underneath. The chain he always wears is tucked beneath the clothing, but she can see the edges poking out, teasing her.

"didn't know you were coming" she can't miss the small smirk that rests on both George and Charli's faces and she keeps her eyes trained on them as she speaks.

"I didn't either... Wasn't really planned" she says but accepts the hug from him, allowing herself to squeeze him tighter, one hand loose around his back as she holds the bottle of wine. They pull away and she turns to George who stands with an arm wrapped around his girlfriend's waist.

"Good to see you love, had a good time?" He asks, referring to the two girls hanging out. She walks towards them, handing George the bottle of wine as she speaks.

"I did thank you, Charli insisted I came back for dinner, said you were already cooking for the two of you... I didn't want to intrude but now I see Ross is too, I don't feel as bad" she laughs and George almost flinches at her words and she wonders why. Until she hears the bearded man talk from behind her, immediately drawing her attention to him.

"What do you mean love? George invited me around for dinner about a week ago" Ross admits and her head snaps to George who now has a shit eating grin, smiling down at Charli. The little shits had planned this.

"No idea what you're talking about" George says as he backs away from them, going into his kitchen to grab some wine glasses.

Charli leads them back into the living room, smiling as Ross sits as close as humanly possible to y/n on the large sofa, plenty of space for them to sit further apart. She rolls her eyes at the black haired girl but the smirk doesn't fall from Charli's face.

"What did you two get up to? Look very lovely" Ross admits and she can't help but blush. She was used to him complimenting her when no one was around, but when Charli is sat opposite them, she can't help but blush deeply.

Ross didn't care that his crush was obvious, he wanted to say what was on his mind so he did. She wears a midi length black skirt with a slit that finishes at her mid thigh and a black crop top. He can't help but desperately want to place his hand on the skin that's revealed at her thigh.

"We had some drinks... Chatted" her answer is short, she felt a bit embarrassed that Charli was watching them and it seems the woman picks up on the vibe and she suddenly stands.

"I'm going to see if G needs help" she says, smiling as she leaves. Y/n let's out a sigh and Ross chuckles.

"This all feels a bit weird doesn't it?" Ross swings his arm around the back of the sofa, resting behind her head, hand curved and beginning to lightly play with her hair. It's the slightest touch but she can feel it and it has her eyes fluttering shut.

"It is..." She finally speaks, once her eyes have reopened and are now beaming into his.

"Missed you y'know...." His voice trails off, eyes wandering to his fingertips which hook into her hair, combing through the soft strands.

"It's only been two days Ross..." Despite her words she's missed him too and she must admit, being with him without the lingering (and slightly distracting) presence of Matty is a welcomed scenario. Her mind was less clouded, less foggy, her thoughts clearer and very much present, with him and him only. If only for this moment, this day.

"Still missed you" his confession has her smiling a small, soft smile. She knows she should be pulling back, should be moving away so his hand couldn't comb through her hair but she couldn't help it. She wanted this, wanted him and she knew if she didn't at least let these minor things happen (despite how ablaze they set her) she would probably combust with need for him.

He feels it too, the desire to be closer to her, to be touching her, to be doing something. But it feels easier to fight when he allows himself the simple pleasures, like playing with her hair, or hooking some strands behind her ear to reveal more of her face.

His hand drops from her hair just in time, returning to his lap as George and Charli return to the room, wine glasses in hand, the bottle resting in the crook of George's armpit.

"Don't drop that, it was expensive" she jokes, despite it being true.

"I know... I saw, shouldn't have done that Y/n, your company is enough" he says as he opens the bottle and pours four glasses, then sitting down next to Charli, hooking his arm tightly around her shoulders.

Ross looked at the couple and wanted nothing more to mirror them, to slide his arm back to its previous position but closer, feeling the warmth of her body against his as he half hugged her. But he couldn't.

"Take it as a thank you for everything you've done so far" she says and George smiles across at her.

"George showed me a few tracks, it sounds really good so far... think once it's released you'll be able to buy a lot more than just that wine' Charli says and y/n sees her expression change, eyes finding Ross' before she says more "don't see why it needs all three of the boys in the studio but with the way it's sounding it clearly works" she smirks at y/n who shakes her head at her. Picking up on what she was insuating... That Ross and Matty were just there for her.

She chooses to ignore her comment and speaks about something else instead "George showed me welcome to my island" she says with an eyebrow raise. She can't help but smile proudly as Charli smiles, clearly happy with the song and proud of it too. The girls had only spent the day with each other, the first time they truly had been alone together without their overlapping friendship groups present, but they felt closer already. She was already able to sense how Charli was feeling, what was going on in her mind and what plans she was scheming.

"It's really good... Hot" she says and George chuckles. Her eyes flick between the couple and she smirks as they share a look. One in which says, "fuck yeah it's hot". She feels jealous of the pair for a second and her eyes flick to Ross' who is smiling happily, clearly just happy to be there with them.

She can't help but wonder if the chemistry they shared so far, the buzz and the electricity, would lead to songs like that. Songs that reflected hot and passionate love. She thinks, if they let it, it could destroy all the fantasies they had built up in their head. She thinks it would be better than any of them, because it would be with him.

Charli notices the look that is on Y/n's face and when she finally turns back away from Ross, Charli raises her eyebrows at the girl.

George goes to check on the food but Charli stops him, insisting that her and y/n do it instead. As soon as they're in the kitchen, Charli is speaking in hushed tones, demanding an answer.

"What is going on with you two?" Her voice isn't harsh, it is accusing or angry, just curious.

"Nothing..." Y/ns voice trials off as she looks at her feet, her hands, anything to avoid her friends eye contact.

"Come on... With the tension in that room I'd say you'd been fucking for at least a week" Charli says and y/n cant help but hush her.

"You have?" She shakes her head, not trusting her voice "you want to" Charli says. Silence. For a beat, before:

"No char... We work together now, that's it... Nothing has happened and nothing will happen' she explains and Charli chuckles at the whole sentence, shaking her head. She was so in denial it was ridiculous.

"Yeah right... Look all I'm saying is you can cut the tension in that room with a knife... It's inevitable something is going to happen between you and instead of being in denial you could just let it happen... It might even turn out to be really good for you' she says before she walks off, leaving y/n in her kitchen, mouth agape and more confused than she had been the whole time whatever was going on had been going on for.

❀•°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀ •°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀

They're all sat around George and Charli's dining table, their plates are empty and long gone into the dishwasher and their bellies are happily full of delicious food and wine. She sits with her hands against the edge of the table, trying to ignore Ross' arm which rests around the back of her chair as they all talk about various things, the current topic is touring and how much they think she'd love it.

"The buzz you get from the crowd really can't be explained... And when you can hear them screaming your lyrics back at you... It's really special" George explains and she smiles, nodding along.

"Doubt anyone will be singing our lyrics back to us... If we did join you on tour, that is" it's the first time someone's mentioned Jamie's idea since it was initially discussed. She was trying to avoid the topic at all costs, she knew the band would be doing it at this point, not that she had told them that yet. But she knew the band would sign to dirty hit and join the boys on tour, the offer was too good not to take up, and they had made the deal even more tempting.

But she didn't want to think about being on tour with them, she knew she could try fight whatever was happening with Ross whilst they were working together in the studio. But she also knew that if they were to spend every day traveling the world and performing on stages, together, she wouldn't be able to resist him.

As if he could read her mind, his arm drops from behind her head, landing in his own lap for two seconds before his large right hand moves and clamps around her thigh. It has the air tumbling from her mouth in a silent gasp which she manages to hide behind her glass of wine.

Her eyes never leave George who shakes his head at her words, his deep voice nearly making her jump as he says "once this record is released... I wouldn't be surprised if everyone knows the words" his optimism is refreshing and it would make her smile if it wasn't for Ross' hand holding onto her flesh.

His thumb grazes the skin, driving back and forth and sending her mind into a frenzy. This should not be happening, this should not be happening, this should not be happening she thinks.

His hand is warm but it still has goosebumps rising to the skin, her eyes flick down for a millisecond, so short neither Charli or George think anything of it. But it gives her just enough time to see if this was really happening or if she really had gone mad.

She hadn't.

Ross Macdonald, the guy she had been para-socially crushing on since her teenage years, had his large, calloused and veiny hand, clamped around her thigh. The thumb of which wouldn't stop moving, grazing skin, the nail scraping across flesh lightly, a gentle scratch that had a fire following in its wake.

His hand runs along her skin, dipping under the fabric of her skirt, the slit only revealed a slither of skin and he desperately needed more. His large hand moves under the fabric, forcing it slightly to the side, her tanned skin pricking up in goosebumps as it hits the cool air. She hears his breath falter and she tries her hardest not to react, but her core clenches around nothing and she swears, somehow he knows. He smirks and his eyes darken. Somehow, he knew.

His hand slips slightly further to the left, the fabric that was once budged to the side, covering her skin again. His hand slipping just so until his fingers are grazing the inner most part of her thigh. If he stretched out his hand she swore his pinky finger would graze her most intimate part. She clenches her thighs instinctively and she spots him smirking out of the corner of her eye. The little shit. He knew what he was doing and he was thriving off it.

Her eyes flick from Ross, to George and then to Charli. Somehow the whole scene wasn't obvious to the couple, but she started to feel slightly frustrated that he was daring to do it across from them. No matter how much she wanted it, in that moment, she was annoyed.

"I think I'm going to head home... Feeling tired" she lies. She stands then, his hand slipping from her flesh, the skin somehow pricking up more as it disappears. She still feels the ghost of his electric touch on her thigh, she still feels the warm sensation it ignited on her skin and in her stomach. She still feels him, everywhere. She has to get out of here, away from him, far, far away from him.

"I'll walk you, should probably make a move to" she hears Ross say but she doesn't meet his eyes. They all exchange goodbye hugs and Ross leads her out the door, hand on her back. Warmth, electricity, fire.

They begin walking, but he knows something is up when she walks faster than him, moving away from his embrace when he tries to hook an arm around her shoulders to keep her warm.

"Is something up?" He asks and she stops dead in her tracks, eyes flicking up towards him, rolling her eyes before walking ahead of him. Unbelievable, she thinks. She was unsure whether he was feigning ignorance or whether he truly believed he had done nothing wrong.

"Love wait" he says, hand finding her shoulder gently and pulling her to face him "talk to me" her arms cross over her chest, closing herself off to him. Not that it stops his hands clasping the top of her arms, running along the fabric of her coat, trying to soothe her and get her to speak to him.

"Come on y/n/n.... Please talk to me... What's wrong?" He asks but he thinks he knows the answer so he sighs.

"I overstepped didn't I... I'm sorry I just couldn't help myself, you're intoxicating y/n" he admits and she steps back, laughing one singular laugh to herself.

"You can't do that Ross!" She says, shaking her head at him, but smiling, a bit amused with the whole ordeal.

"Do what?" He asks innocently.

"Say stuff like that... Hold my thigh under the table... Look at me... Like that" she gestures towards him and he takes a step towards her, but doesn't reach out for her, no matter how hard he wants to.

"I'm sorry... I couldn't help myself... If you don't want that... If you don't want this just tell me love and I'll stop" she doesn't speak. She couldn't lie.

"Do you want this?" He asks and she sighs, a conflicted and unhappy sigh.

"No... Yes.. I don't know..." She sighs again, she wanted it, she wanted all of it, with him and so so badly it was tearing her apart.

"We can't Ross" she takes another step back from him and frowns sadly up at her. It was a battle between her head and her heart, her head screamed don't, it's not professional, it wouldn't be fair, whilst her heart screamed yes, begged her to go for it. Her heart was louder, making it harder to be rational.

"Okay... We won't. Leave it at that" he says, his voice slightly clipped. Her brain tells her, don't, but she still steps forward, hooking her arms around his waist and looking up at him, trying to get him to look down at her.

"Ross... Don't be like that" she says, and the man still avoids her eye contact.

"Ross... Please" the please is what gets him, accompanied by the nuzzle of her face against his shirt, it has him looking down at her immediately, one hand coming up to grasp her face in his hand, thumb soothing over her cheek.

"I'm sorry... I can't pretend I don't like you... Not anymore. I can't tip toe around how much I want you" he admits and she frowns up at him. She didn't want that at all. But they just couldn't. Because they were working together and because, no matter how much she tried to deny it, she also felt something towards Matty. Although unsure what it was just yet.

"I'm sorry too... But we can't" she says, stepping away once more.

"Okay..." His voice is less clipped this time, it comes out clear and soft, but sad. He still hooks and arm around her shoulder, attempting to keep her warm.

"Let me walk you home" he says and they do, pretty much in near silence. The walk is short, far shorter than she had realised, she had lived so close to George for so long and never even knew. She wonders what would've happened if their paths had crossed sooner, would he have introduced her to the guys, or would it have been a matter of "my girlfriend knows you" and that be it?

She couldn't imagine her life without them now. Without Matty... Without Ross. Especially without Ross.

They stop outside her house, she stands on the top step as he waits at the middle, hand now clasped in hers. Two sad smiles resting on their faces. They couldn't. He had to keep telling himself that, just to stop himself leaning up and kissing her.

"Listen Ross..." He interrupts her.

"It's okay... I understand, we can't, it wouldn't be right..." the words coming from his mouth instead of her make her want to cry. She wanted to believe he didn't really think that, that he was just saying it to appease her. But she didn't know. She didn't know how badly he wanted to just say fuck it and kiss her senseless, she didn't know how ever since she stepped foot into his life all he's been able to think about is her, her laugh, her smile, her voice, her touch, her lips.

"I can't lose you though Ross.... Not now" she admits and he shakes his head and smiles up at her.

"No chance" he says and she smiles widely. Good, she thinks, that's good.

"Now go before I change my mind" he jokes but the words open that door again and she doesn't care to shut it, leaving it cracked.

Even with her on a higher step he's taller than her, so she wraps her arms around his middle and hugs him, loving the way he squeezes her, just the same as before.

"Please go... Dont make this harder for me" he admits. They both realise how much has been said tonight, how much has been admitted and they would both blame it on the glasses of wine.

"Okay... I'm going, goodnight Ross' she says, leaning down and pressing her lips to his cheek before opening her door and walking inside. Her lips had just grazed the skin but she still felt the stubble against her lips whilst he felt warmth spread across the skin, taking over all of him.

Her back finds the door, sliding down it, head falling against it with a light thud. What the fuck? She thinks, why did you kiss him on the cheek? Jesus woman if you say you can't, you can't, she thinks.

On the other side of the door, Ross stands with his mouth agape, cheek warming even more and quickly too, still feeling the barely there touch of her lips, hand hovering over the wood, knuckles grazing the door, ready to knock if his body would allow it.

The door would open and she'd gasp as his hand would find her waist, tugging her towards him, his strong hands stopping her from falling.

She try to protest, to stop it, he'd mumble a "just shut up a kiss me" she'd laugh and he'd smile and then he'd lean down slowly and kiss her, their lips would touch and... Fireworks. Just like the movies.

But this wasn't the movies, this was real life. And the real life Ross turns and walks home. The real life y/n walks up her stairs, enters her room, gets changed and goes to bed.

❀•°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀ •°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀

The door swings open and he's there, standing on the top step leading to her house, he's standing in her door way, one hand placed against the frame, chest heaving as he breathes in and out deeply. Did he run here? She's clad in little pyjama bottoms and an oversized jumper, not Matty's this time but hers and he smiles to himself realising she's clad in an old band jumper, his bands jumper. Nothing could ruin this, not even the thought of Matty.

"Ross! What are you doing here?" She hears her voice but it doesn't sound like her, it's airier, softer, more perfect than hers. But it's her, her in a worn the 1975 jumper that is still way too big for her, her with her hair down, flying all about the place, her with her blushing cheeks, staring up at the large man, who's brown orbs are completely unwavering from hers. When he finally speaks it's him, it's exactly how he sounds, no different from how it usually is.

"I got all the way home and I realised how much of an idiot I am... I can't not do this y/n, I can't. I'm sorry" she doesn't know what he means for a second but then he's there, stepping into the threshold of her house, grasping her waist and tugging her towards him, bodies colliding. His breath doesn't falter, still as heavy and as bated as when he first arrived.

Her breath on the other hand - it gets caught in her throat, the feeling of his hands clutching her waist with a vice like grip, not allowing her to budge in the slightest, no room for "we cants", no room to stop it from happening. Not that she would, not this y/n.

"I need it so bad y/n please" he says, his eyes are flicking between her mouth and lips constantly and suddenly she's breathing again, heavy and bated like his.

"I need you like I need air" his confession makes her feel dizzy, but it feels so good, her head spinning in a way that has her smiling a love-drunk smile.

"Did you run here?" Her voice is quiet, too quiet, too impacted by him, as if she was to speak louder it would ruin the moment.

He nods his head and she feels his lips barely graze hers and they break. They both break. It's not clear who pushes forward first, or if it's him tugging her just ever so slightly that her lips are forced to touch his. They just touch at first, held against each other for a second before he pushes himself forward one more centimeter, lips now pressed firmly against hers. The way he takes in her bottom lip, molding perfectly against his, is heaven. She didn't know what was wrong or right in the world, it being full of doubt and blurred lines, everyone had an opinion on everything... But this, this kiss, was right.

This was meant to happen. They were meant to happen. The way they moved perfectly against each other, they were destined for each other. Not that she believed in that and neither did he. But there, in that moment, with Ross' tongue running along her bottom lip and easily making it's way into her mouth to find hers, they believed in fate and destiny and soul mates and "the one".

She grips the collar of his shirt and his hand tugs against her waist. She leans into him, standing on her tip toes to reach his mouth, they separate for a second, breathe and their mouths realign, tongues dancing against each other. They sigh, they tug, they touch, they take and take and take, taking everything they've ever wanted from each other. It's bliss, it's heaven, it's -

A phone buzzes behind her, they break away, she looks around to find it, but she can't... It's not there, it's not behind her or in her pocket, she looks up at the man who was just kissing her, he's blurry but he's smiling. That gorgeous smile, with those too cute creases by his eyes and those too deep dimples by the corners of his lips, those lips she swears were just against hers. He smiles that smile that tugs at her heartstrings, that demands attention, that makes every fibre of her being flood with him.

"Better answer that love" he says and then he fades away, she reaches for him, but the more she reaches the further he gets. He's gone.

He's gone.

She's waking, arm stretching out to find the annoying buzzing of her phone. That's when she realises, it was a dream. She doesn't look at who's calling her, knowing who the culprit would be. She answers with a quiet, tired "hello" only to be greeted by a cheerful "Ello love!". A smile appears on her face even through her sleep induced state. An automatic reaction, a pavlovian response. That shouldn't happen. Not with him.

She doesn't ask why he's up at such an ungodly hour, or why he's calling her, or why he sounds so cheery. She just smiles as he begins talking about some record she should listen to. She checks the time, 1:45am, she officially went all of 18 hours without Matty clouding her mind, clouding her vision.

She was so focused on Ross, despite knowing she couldn't go there.

But there he is again, the curly haired man making things way too difficult and confusing for her.

"You there love?" He says at one point when he realises he's been speaking for far too long and she hasn't spoken since the single hello she uttered when she answered the phone.

Love

Oh god

She's fucked.

"Yeah... The Japanese House... Tell me about them" she says, proving to him that she was listening.

"Amber she's been my friend for years and g and I worked on this record with them, him more than me but it's sick and I really think you'd like it, comes out soon" he explains and she nods even though he couldn't see her. She places her head on her pillow, allowing her eyes to shut as he continued talking to her.

"You're tired... I'm sorry, I should let you go" he says but she mumbles a "no, don't" and he continues talking, his voice quieter, softer, allowing her to get lost in it, slowly falling back asleep with him the other side of the phone.

"goodnight love... Sweet dreams" she hears him say before she's fast asleep, she's unsure whether he hangs up or if she just drops the phone. But she's too far gone to care, back to her dreams, taken up by Ross, but now Matty is there too, the two of them clouding her mind, making things complicated and confusing but unbelievably blissful.

She lets herself live in that dream, with both of them. She doesn't worry about what she should or shouldn't be doing. This Y/n just does, and the amazing thing about it, is, this Matty, this dream Matty and this dream Ross, they allow it. They share her. It's perfect, but it's just a dream.

She's rudely awakened by her doorbell ringing, she swears as she pulls herself out of her bed, murmuring a "sorry" when she hears multiple groans and shouts of "shut up" coming from the rooms of her bandmates. She runs to the door, opening it and finding a delivery man there, a small bunch of flowers in one hand and a square shape thin package in the other.

She thanks the man, taking both items and closing the door behind her, walking into her kitchen to put the flowers in a glass, they're a mixture of pink, orange and yellow tulips: her favourite. She reads the note attached to the flowers "remembered these were your favourite, sorry about yesterday - Ross" his handwriting is slightly messy but she loves it, she notices he had written the word "your" before Ross but scribbled it out and she can't help but smile. He could've easily rewritten the note but he didn't, he had wanted her to see this.

She then finds the other parcel, another note attached to it, reading "In The End It Always Does by The Japanese House, let me know what you think, love Matty x".

She can't believe these two parcels arrived at exactly the same time, she swears the universe has it out of her, some wicked twist of fate, constantly putting her in confusing situations. She wonders how Matty had found the record so late at night, he must've already had spare copies lying about, it was the only reasonable explanation, especially when she remembers him saying it wasn't out yet.

Both gifts are unbelievably thoughtful but they make her mind foggier, so she leaves both items on the kitchen counter, throwing away both notes and she returns to her bedroom, willing away both the men from her mind, if not for a few hours.

She needed a break from both of them, that much was clear.

(7) Hate Missing You

© all lyrics are written and owned by yours truly (let's ignore the fact they're not that good but yeah) no stealing hehe

[myaoiboy]

heyy sorry dunno if ur ok with ppl asking for advice, but ive been on the twitter mgs fandom for a little while (mostly as a watcher rather than participating other than liking, rting and occasionally commenting or posting some art) and after a while i realized (a bit too late) that quite a few people that i interacted with are aggressively anti and i dont know how to pull away from them now.

Some were mutuals, i stopped following most of them but they still follow me and im not sure if i should just ignore it or whatever. My main account is very clean when it comes to pro/anti discussion and NSFW in general, altho i do like/rt/discuss a lot of anime art and media that has some questionable content in it (like the monogatari series for example)

Anyway, im just a bit scared they might see these "cracks" and it gets to a point of agression/exclusion/doxxing etc and im a bit terrified of that. Sorry if this sounds dumb, but could i ask you what you experience with the mgs fandom is like on twitter? Have you ever been in a similar situation?

It's totally cool to ask for advice! I'm not sure how much help I'll be though.

I have a twitter that's mostly MGS-focused, but I've been building up defenses against the anti movement for a long time before that. I used to be mutuals with someone who was a really notorious asshole twitter anti, actually. I broke that when they started publicly slandering me, but before they could actually dox me, and they still followed me on side accounts for a couple years after that. I got very careful about vetting who I regularly interact with after that.

I got lucky dropping into MGS fandom, I've found a bunch of people who enjoy freaky stuff as much as I do. But I also had one of those friends get doxxed a while back over ship discourse that was spun as something much worse.

Personally, if I see a callout post and it looks fishy (only includes accusations of fic or art, etc), I will a lot of times block everyone that's retweeted or liked it. It's made me sad a couple of times to break mutuals, but I know I'm saving myself the pain later of potentially seeing them fall for it with me. This, when my friend got doxxed, ended up causing me to block like half of the twitter MGS fandom ngl.

Honestly, my secret to not accidentally making full on anti friends is that when I get into a new fandom, I look up their discourse and who antis say shouldn't be shipped together. Then I look and see who makes art/fic of those ships. If I don't like those ships specifically, I find people who ship both that and whatever I like. Usually I end up liking one or more of them anyways (solimiller...). Or I'll go through that fandom's fics with warnings on them and check out those authors' other works.

That's how I keep accidentally meeting a lot of people in fandom, it turns out. I read a fic, I look at the author's other works or their profile, it has a social media handle, or a discord link, or whatever else, next thing I know I'm talking to them and 5 more people they recommended about whatever freaky kink I found of theirs.

I do actually have a (mostly nsfw) discord link that I would share here, but given some of the weird interactions I've gotten tonight I'm gonna wait a couple days before I post it publicly. It's fandom neutral technically but a lot of us like our war boys (mgs/cod mostly). But uhhh if anybody sees this and wants in feel free to dm me/send an off-anon ask and I'll slip ya a link real quiet.

I warn people some of the heavier content that I regularly post as well, even though I don't explicitly use any discourse labels, but honestly the biggest thing is just pulling your interactions like weeds. People on the internet are, mostly, strangers. You don't like someone's vibes? You can block 'em. You see them being a dick to someone else and don't wanna risk them doing the same to you ? Definitely block. Someone makes posts you don't like and it keeps filling up the tags you frequent? You can block that!

[patchworkpuzzle]

Hey, do u mind if i ask about a drabble or fic with that last scenario in your page about sero having the best fuck in his life? I need a fic or something about that with smut and fluff <3

Do I mind?? Do I mind having someone encourage me to write self-indulgent fics about my fave characters? Espeically if those fics revovle around my fantasy of hooking up with a college boy at a party? HECK NO I DON'T LETS GO!

word count: ~3700 words

paring: Fratboy!Sero x f!Reader (again self-indulgent, apologies)

warning(s): alcohol consumption, thigh riding, oral (male and female receiving), riding (cowgirl position), dirty talk.... I dunno this is pretty tame. but let me know if I missed anything

It was all Kirishima’s doing.

Sero could admit fully to that. From having him, Bakugou, Kaminari, and the rest of the house throw yet another party. To how Sero would have to be a host, and make sure all of his guests were having a good time, and not destroying the property. To now, having to come join the redhead and the group he was in because of some girl.

That girl being you.

Sero could kind of understand the dilemma. You were with your three friends, and it seemed the rest of the group wanted some action with them. But of course, Kirishima wasn’t going to leave anyone out - so the redhead brought him in to fill out the pairs, to have Sero fall onto this sword for the sake of the rest of them.

But the longer he looked at you, the more confused he got. Sure, you weren’t gorgeous like the rest of them, able to turn heads with a look, but you were very very cute; that smile of yours could light up a dark room. And sure you weren’t dressed in a similar curve hugging dress your friends were, but that off-the-shoulder blouse and short skirt definitely looked good on you. Sero could barely stop looking at your thighs when that flimsy fabric would ride up whenever you bent forward on the kitchen’s island to take a swig of your drink.

You were attractive. Which, again, was the cause of his confusion. Why would his friends beg him to occupy your time for their sake, why was no one else willing? Whatever the reason may be, Sero was more than happy to bear this burden as he slinked over to your side.

“You like hiding out in the kitchen too, huh?”

Sero could help but let out a laugh at your startled gasp, your hand coming up instinctively to cover your mouth to silence any further noise as your wide eyes landed on him. After a beat, your own breathless laughter joined his.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you” Sero apologized, offering his hand to yours “I’m Sero, one of the hosts of this party.”

“No, don’t worry about it, all good!” You smiled, taking his hand and offering your name in return. “One of the hosts huh? I’m taking the other hosts dragged you over here to keep me company?”

“It’s that obvious huh?”

Sero smiled as he took a swig of the beer he was holding, watching you carefully as you moved your shoulders in a shrug; you mirrored his actions with your own drink as you looked in the living room, where your friends were dancing and getting all comfortable with his.

“No, not really.” You reassured “I’m just really used to this sort of thing. Happens at every party we go to. So, I’ve gotten good at spotting the poor friend that drew the short straw.”

“Hey now! I don’t think I’ve drawn the short straw at all!” Sero defended playfully, unable to help himself by looking you over once again, enjoying the way your body practically shivered at his gaze.

“You say that now, but give it an hour. That’s usually how long it takes before I’m abandoned or dumped onto someone else.” You shrugged again, downing the last of your drink.

“Believe me, babe, I am not gonna even think about doing that.” He smirked, leaning onto the counter’s surface, enjoying the challenging smirk on your face as you leaned closer to him.

“Oh yeah? Wanna bet?”

“Best not to bet against me, I never lose.”

~

Sero was true to his word, you had to give him credit, it had been well over an hour and he was no closer to being done chatting you up then when he started. Making you stay by his side as he toured the party, introducing you to people and making sure your cup was never empty. A true modern gentleman, you joke.

And you certainly had to give him credit for being so forward. After an hour had passed, and forcing you to play a round of beer pong - which you lost, of course - he asked if wanted to go upstairs for a while.

And now here you were, standing in the quite impressively large room given the older home. Checking out his posters and other merch he had laying around as you waited for him to close the door and make his way back.

“I’ve never met anyone that had a hammock in their room” You mumbled as you gently pushed the item to make it swing gently “Those hanging chairs, sure, but not a full blown hammock…”

“Yeah? Well I’ll be sure to let you try it out next time you’re here” Sero chuckled, pulling you into his embrace.

“Next time, huh?” You giggled as his lips touched your shoulder.

“Mm-hmm” Seros lips slowly ascended up to your ear, his warm breath making you shiver at it made contact “But right now I kinda want you in my bed.”

You let out a breathless moan when his teeth latched onto your earlobe, unable to help yourself as you sunk deeper into his strong embrace. Mind too cloudy to focus and he slowly led you to his bed, his messy blankets and sheets seemed rather inviting.

“W-wait!” You stopped him, pulling yourself away and facing him “I-i’m sorry I just… I’ve never done this sort of thing before” “What? Sex?” Sero asked, sitting himself down on the edge of the mattress.

“No! No…” You gave a light chuckle “Weirdly enough I have. I just… never done this sort of thing, you know? A hookup?”

“Ah, I see. Well, I won’t pressure you into anything, I wouldn’t be a good host if my guest isn’t comfortable” Sero brought his hand up to yours, tugging you to stand between his legs “We can take things slow, and if you want to stop at any time we can. I won’t get upset or anything.”

“You sure?”

“Yes!” Sero let out a chuckle at your nervousness, finding your sudden bashfulness cute and endearing “I’m sure! Now, come here…”

Sero pulled you into him even closer, forcing you to sit yourself down on his thigh. With one arm securely around your waist, and the other at the base of your neck, he brought you in for a kiss. It was soft, clearly meant for you to get comfortable and you appreciated that he was willing to go slow.

But if you were honest with yourself, you couldn’t go slow; not after the incredibly long dry spell you have been enduring. So, when he pulled away, clearly ready to ask if you were okay, you seized the opportunity to grab fistful of his shirt and pull him back onto your lips.

The surprised groan he made went straight to your core as he pulled you ever closer to him, chest firmly flushed together as he tried to take back the lead you stole from him. Kissing you dizzy, and breathless to the point of lightheadedness. As much as you didn’t want to pull away from this kiss, wanting him to be the first, you had no choice.

That didn’t stop Sero from pulling your lips back to his after you took a deep breath, not wanting to part from you for long. He was enjoying your soft whines and moans, even more so when his tongue entered your mouth. It was getting sloppy, but you couldn’t care less at the way drool started to gather on your chin

But, air was important. You tugged on his hair so you could officially part from one another. Sero only saw that as an opportunity to suck and nip down the column of your neck. When your hands started to tug at his shirt, his started to wander downwards - playing with the hem of your skirt.

“You know” Sero nipped at your collar bone, earning a small gasp from you “This little thing has been torturing me all night. I have to know what’s underneath”

He groaned when his hands slipped under the fabric, caressing the globes of your ass, to find lace meeting his fingertips.

“You came prepared for this, didn’t you?” Sero asked, only to be met with a shake of your head “No? Well, there's only one way to find out, isn’t there?”

He tugged the hem of your blouse up and away from where it was so neatly tucked, quickly maneuvering your arms up so he could remove the soft fabric from your body to reveal what it was hiding. Giving a low whistle to the black lace so wonderfully adorned your chest.

“Ah, so you did come prepared, hmm?” He teased

“S-shut up!” You murmured, bringing your arms up to shield your chest from his gaze - heated skin making its way from your cheeks down your chest.

You didn’t get far before your arms were pinned by your side “None of that now, pretty girl. Be good for me and keep those right there, okay?”

You nod, bashfully meeting his hard gaze. He gives you a small smile, giving you a soft kiss before his hands let go of your wrists in favour of caressing the lace cups that held your breasts.

His lips attached to your collarbone once more, sucking harshly on the skin as his large hands continued their heavy petting. The mixture of both was making you whine, unable to stop yourself from squirming in his lap as you tried your best to keep your hands docile by your side.

It felt like hours of torture before he finally reached his hands behind you to unclasp the item, pulling it away from your chest slowly and tossing it somewhere in the expanse of his room. Not wasting another moment, he leaned forward and began his assault on your chest.

The mixture of wet kisses, harsh nips and bites - which you were sure were leaving marks - and his fingers tugging on your hardened buds made you throw your head back and moan; grateful for the loud music playing downstairs for drowning it out.

Sero groaned when your hips started to move on their own against his thigh, bringing his hands to your hips to help with the movement as he latched to your nipple and bit down; groaning again when another loud moan escaped your throat.

“Yeah, you like that pretty girl?”

You nodded immediately, babbling out yes to him and your ground your hips harder against his thigh, wanting desperately to reach your hands up to tug his hair.

Sero slipped his hand between your bodies, his heavy breathing against your chest, as he lifted your hips slightly. You whined at the brief loss of friction, but that disappointment quickly disappeared when his deft fingers started rubbing your fold through the flimsy, and damp, fabric of your panties.

“God, Sero! More, please!” You begged, hands forming fists at your side as your hips buck into his fingers.

“You’re so wet for me, baby” Sero mumbled, pushing your panties aside and rubbing your clit. “So, so good for me…”

You couldn’t keep yourself upright, not with his relentless fingers and your inability to hold onto him for balance; especially not at his gentle praise. With another groan, you leaned forward onto him fully; head nuzzling itself on his shoulder.

“Too much?” He asked, unable to hold back a smile when he felt you nod “Alright, lay down for me, okay?”

You held back a whine when he removed his fingers and started pushing you towards the sheet; already missing his warmth. But you do as you're told, maneuvering yourself up to where his pillows are spread out and smoothing out his blanket.

It didn’t take him long to jump back on you after you got comfortable. Quickly tugging your skirt and panties down your legs before you realized what was happening. The groan he let out when your cunt was bare, eyeing your glistening folds, made your cheeks heat up once more; whining in embarrassment as you closed your legs.

“No, no, don’t do that babygirl!” He teased, kissing up your body and nipping your neck “Gotta make you cum, don’t I?”

“S’embarrassing…!” You mewled when his hand returned to your folds.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about, believe me” He trailed off as his fingers started to prod at your entrance “Got such a pretty pussy”

His immediate nip at your neck stopped any other attempt of your complaining or disagreement; turning those words into a groan when his fingers finally entered you.

And what skilled fingers they were. You never would have guessed when you first looked at him, but you couldn’t deny the way they were playing you so expertly. The sounds from your wet heat only getting louder, and echoing in the empty room more frequently, the faster he went.

“Yeah, you like that don’t you pretty girl?” He asked, thumb circling your neglected clit, enjoying the way you cried out his name “You gonna cum for me?”

“Yes! S’close!” You moan out, hips started to buck in time with his fingers “Please! Please make me cum!”

“Go on then, make a mess on my fingers. Make a mess for me, do it.”

His words, mixed with everything else he was doing, sent you hurtling towards the edge faster than you ever expected; not that you were complaining. You never had your toes curl or back arch so painfully, but the release was so sweet when it all came crashing down. Your high filling your body with such euphoria that you couldn’t even make a sound as you squirmed and gushed all over his hand.

“That’s it… breathe… good girl” Sero cooed as you slumped back down onto the mattress. “You did so good.”

You hissed when his finger left your twitching hole, hips fidgeting away when he started petting your folds once again. Your hand shooting out to grab his wrist to stop him when it got too much for you.

“Can… can I..” You took a deep breath, “Can I return the favour?”

You didn't give him much of a chance to respond, using the advantage of his wrist in your hand to switch positions. Flipping him onto his back and tugging at his belt before he had a chance to take a breath.

Sero didn’t mind, why would he? A pretty girl like you wanting to go down on him? And so eagerly? Sign him up everyday of the week. He responded to your eagerness with his own, sitting up to quickly remove his shirt and helping you with the article of clothing currently hindering your progress.

You sat back and allowed him to take off his pants, knowing he would do it faster anyway; you were not in the mood to drag any of this out any further. Your teeth biting into your lip as you watched his cock bounce onto his stomach; your hand wrapping around it as soon as his legs were free.

“Ah, fuck!” He hissed when he felt your tongue gently lick the head of his cock, leaning back to get a better view of you between his legs.

Your mouth was magic; one that Sero could not wrap his head around. Because before he knew it, the sensitive head of his cock was hitting the back of your throat over and over again, with your drool spilling onto his balls.

It was sloppy, messy even, but god Sero couldn’t remember when he last got head this good. And the way you were moaning around him, sending all sorts of pleasurable vibrations through him, made him almost embarrassed with how quickly he was about to blow his load down your throat.

“S-stop!” He quietly exclaimed, tugging your hair to pull you off him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, catching your breath and wiping some of the drool off yourself.

“N-nothing! Nothing I just, ya know, not to cum like this.” Sero chuckled, pulling you up and onto his chest “Would rather feel your tight cunt wrapped around me instead.”

“You certainly have a way with words” You sighed out, breathlessly laughing along with him as you started to line him up to your entrance.

“Wait a minute, pretty girl.” His hands pulling your hips away “Gotta put some protection on”

He kisses you briefly, gently pushing you to the side so he can maneuver around his side desk drawer. And though a whine escapes your throat when his heat leaves you again, you are grateful he cares enough to do this in the first place.

“Okay, now you can hop on” Sero teases as he throws away the wrapper, leaving himself onto his headboard.

You playfully roll your eyes at him, not bothering to give what he said a proper response as you place your legs on either side of his hips. Your own grinding against his length to tease him a little and hear him groan.

But you didn’t have the heart to tease him long, the heat in your core becoming unbearable the long you waited. Reaching behind you angled him at your entrance and slowly sank down; the burning stretch made you groan as you tried to take him fully.

Sero mirrored your groan, his hands coming to tightly grip your waist to help guide, and help you, sink further down. His head tossing back with a choked moan when you finally bottomed out, your nails digging into his chest in a delicious manner.

You paused briefly, gyrating your hips slowly to become accustomed to his length; one that was a little bigger than you were expecting - not that you were going to complain. But it was making it a little difficult for you to ride him, having to start slowly.

“God… you’re so big!” You cried out when you dropped your hips down onto him, ducking your head and repeating the motion again.

“Yeah? Feels - fuck - feels good, yeah?” Sero asked, trying to catch his breath as he helped lift you up and down his length.

“So, so good!” You nodded your head, your hips picking up speed with the extra help he was providing.

After a few more strokes you were leaning back, hands resting on his legs, to allow you a faster pace and to hit that spot deep within you, the one that made you tighten around him so exquisitely.

The way your walls were clamping down on him, the way your pussy was gushing and soaking his length, the sounds of skin meeting skin, and you pretty mewls and whimpers were making Sero come undone embarrassingly fast; faster than he ever though possible.

But he was a gentleman, and didn’t want to cum before you did. Quickly he attached his thumb to your clit the moment he felt his release start to wash over him overwhelmingly.

“Come on pretty girl, I know you’re close. Come one, cum for me please.” He practically begged, eyes shutting tight as he tried to hold off. “Come on, do it for me please!”

You never had a man beg for you like that before, and that - as well as the frantic rubbing on your clit - made your whole body shiver as your release came over you. Sero pulled you back down and onto him, wrapping his arms tightly around you as he followed suit; your pussy milking him for all he was worth.

It took the pair of you a few beats before your breathing, and thinking, became less labored. With Sero coming back to earth first as he pushed you gently onto the mattress once again, peppering your face with small kisses as he did so.

“Be right back, okay? Just gonna go clean us up”

He left your side to go to his ensuite bathroom; on that you didn’t notice he had before; your brain coming to the conclusion at how handy it must be. Those thoughts only amplified when you heard water running. And after a minute or two, he came back with a damp washcloth in his hand and wearing a new pair of boxers.

Sero helped clean you up, making sure to be extra gentle; especially after you hissed when the cold damp cloth met with your sore cunt. He passed you his shirt to cover yourself with as went to throw the towel into his laundry; allowing you the chance to put on your now soiled panties as well.

“So… so do I leave now? Or something?” You ask when he came back, clearly nervous and unsure of what to do as you pick at a loose fiber on your shirt.

“I mean, if that’s what you want to do.” Sero chuckled, moving to your side and flattening your now messy hair “But I’m pretty tired, and I’m sure you are too, and you look pretty comfortable so I wouldn’t mind if you stayed the night.”

“Y-you sure?” You ask again, wanting confirmation that he isn’t just being polite but actually wanting you to stay.

“Yes, I’m sure. Come here.”

Sero started to lay down, shifting his pillows around to make himself more comfortable, holding his blanket out for you so you could join him. You do, without hesitation, which made him chuckle into your hair before placing a kiss to your crown.

“Sweet dreams, okay.”

“Mmm, you too.”

You fall asleep quickly, something that Sero thought was adorable. He tried to follow suit, he was exhausted after the wild ride you gave him; but he just couldn’t shut his brain off. Couldn’t stop thinking about you, and how you gave him the best night he could ever have imagined. The best fuck in his life. And it almost didn’t happen. If he hadn't talked to you, he would have missed out on all of this and spent his time chasing some other girl who wouldn’t nearly be as memorable.

All this from a girl he didn’t even notice at first.

But man was he glad he did. Glad he didn’t miss out on any of it. And he was certainly not gonna pass up another opportunity to see you again. His mind went from racing to thought of what might have been to thoughts of asking for your number and taking you out for breakfast the next morning.

Oh, and to thank Kirishima when he gets the chance.

shout out to @kenzumekodma for beta reading this for me 💛💛

[courseoflove]

Questions

You have lots of questions for Harry and he tries his best to answer each of them.

a/n: hiiiii, think it’s been almost a year since I last posted my writing and I’m finally back! thanks to @oh-honey-styles‘s new fic slam prompts, I was able to curate something I liked enough to share. usually it’d take me lotssss of drafts to be satisfied and happy with something but this one only took 2! I hope you enjoy it and pleaaaaseee be kind ⭐️😸 I’d love to hear your thoughts!

warning: this is just pureee filth. not really smut, but filthy regardless.

Word Count: 1,775

Harry’s forest eyes ogle straight at you, lips pressed in a tight line and twitching on one side to form a smirk that he tried his very best not to show.

That was definitely the last thing he expected to come out of your mouth. He thought you just needed help with something minuscule, like putting together new furniture, fixing the wifi, or help pick out an outfit; things you’ve urgently called him about before. He never, ever thought you’d call him one day and ask for this, a lesson on blowjobs out of all things.

Luckily, sex has never been a taboo topic between the two of you, considering he’s the first person you yell to when you’re letting out your frustrations about your lack of experiences, or vice versa when he just had an intercourse dilemma that continues to leave an everlasting impact on him. But when you’re asking him about giving good oral pleasure, his brain is suddenly void of any thoughts that should help the situation at hand.

“Quit smirking at me, I’m serious!” Harry flinches when you throw a pillow at him from across the other side of the sofa, instantly wiping the smirk off of his face and instead letting out a soft chuckle when he successfully catches it. You throw him an intense yet jest glare, “just. Today at work. I dunno. I just need to know. I want to know.”

“How d’you suppose I do that?” he asks cautiously, leaning forward to settle his elbows on his knees and prop his chin up with the palm of his hand, “teach you, I mean.”

You’re usually never embarrassed around Harry, despite the many weird and unusual conversations you’ve both had during sobriety and drunkenness. You don’t remember ever feeling even the slightest bit awkward or sheepish when you told him about how IUDs work, or giving him a very vivid description of how exactly you feel during your menstruation cycle. He takes it all in and listens with amusement, sometimes with a bowl of extra-buttered popcorn on his lap.

But right now, in this exact moment, you feel slightly skittish and jittery, as if blowjobs were something you’re just now learning about. He can sense it, especially with the way you’re averting your gaze from his eyes to the silent flatscreen tv nailed on your wall — thanks to him. You’re also doing that thing he constantly scolds you for whenever you’re anxious and nervous, chewing ferociously on your bottom lip and squeezing your fingers into a fist to the point your nails will sink on your palm and pop your veins.

“Stop that, you’ll bleed,” he cuts the silence off, “and answer my question.”

You unclench your fist and turn towards him again, barely making eye contact and instead looking at the lovely framed painting hung on the wall behind him, “maybe just describe it?”

“It’s really not that complicated,” was all Harry said. He leans back against your soft couch, taking both of your feet with his hands and settling them on his lap to crack each of your toes. You flinch a little on his first try, turning your focus and watching his fingers work against your skin, “think of a lollipop. Or popsicles, something of the sorts. You put it in your mouth and just… suck. Lick. Move your mouth, without the teeth.”

Suck. Lick. Move your mouth; the words that tumbles out of his lips causes you to flush, your whole body heating up and turning beet red, the color dancing across your nose and emphasizing your imperfections flawlessly.

What Harry said was pretty accurate. It’s not as detailed as you want but you don’t really know how to ask for that without feeling mortified and even more flustered. He said it exactly how it is; you just put your mouth around it, suction your cheeks, use your tongue and bob your head. But you feel like there was something missing, as if there should be more to that. Well, because there is. You want to know more.

His fingers have started to dance their way to your calf, squeezing the deep tissues there in a tender and leisure massage to try and get rid of your tensed muscles. You’re wincing in between syllables when you finally speak after a couple of seconds, “question. It might be weird. Just… just tell me if you don’t wanna answer.”

His eyes lock with yours when he hums for you to continue, a strand of curl falling over his forehead and tickling his brow while his bottom lip gets caught in between his teeth in concentration. He presses his warm hands on your leg forcefully and harder and it helps calm your nerves and neurons, your habit of overthinking in situations like this disappearing little by little the more he moves. The lack of poise you had minutes ago is lessening and your question is on the tip of your tongue, ready to burst at the seams and be voiced aloud.

With your face turning a lot redder and goosebumps developing on your skin from head to toe out of the blue, you ask with your voice a little lower than it was a while ago, “will you tell me what you like? When.. you know.”

Harry’s movements quickly halt. Another unexpected turn. Another question he never, ever thought would come out of your mouth to ask him.

He lets go of his lip and keeps his mouth agape, irises instantaneously dilating and darkening under your lemon-yellow light and turning them into an even darker shade, like a week old leaf. His brain performs a short circuit for a few moments that passes by in silence before he finally swallows and says, “you want to know what I like when I’m getting head?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, feeling even more ridiculous the more you look into his eyes and open your mouth, “I mean, you have the most experience out of the two of us. That’s why I asked in the first place, but I feel — I feel like your first answer doesn’t really — it’s just not satisfying me. There has to be more to it than just.. sucking, I dunno.”

Sure, you talk to one another about sex casually; what one undergos and encounters and what the other simply has no preconceived notions of. Harry would tell his stories in the least disgusting way possible, knowing you’ll groan out loud and tease him about it if he gives away any sort of detail, but there was almost always zero utterance on your end. No lingering and continuous curiosity. You asking about what he likes when he’s getting head is very much unforeseen and maybe even a bit… amiss, especially for you.

However, he can detect a genuine inquisitiveness in your expression. You’re probably one of the hardest people to read on the surface, but he senses that there was more to that interest than just simply wanting to know. At least, he’s hoping there is.

You cross your arms over your chest, feeling a bit weird now the more he gawks at you and doesn’t make a single move to respond. You open your mouth to backtrack when his hesitancy becomes clear, but before you can even take your question back, he’s already mouthing a three-syllable word out loud, “mouth-fucking.”

A low gasp leaves your mouth and the sound doesn’t miss Harry’s eardrums. He should want to take it back, shove the words back in his throat and never say it again despite not being able to. Still and all, he realizes that he likes what you asked and the fact he gave you an answer, a brief one but an honest and precise answer nonetheless. The way your skin warms against the palm of his hands makes him start to sweat, your bare face becoming even more flushed if possible. You don’t really know what kind of answer your mind presumed, but it obviously wasn’t that.

You’re aware of Harry’s self-confidence and boldness when it comes to sex. He has lots of it and it doesn’t come as a surprise. So when he opens his mouth again to explain exactly what he meant, you were able to hold your second gasp back and instead listen in. You can just imagine how filthy he is in bed, considering the description he gives you seems to be even more graphic and explicit, “like normal sex, but I’m doing it to their mouth. I like the sound, the sloppiness of it all, it fuels me. I like being in control, I guess, and no one wants a dry blowjob. I like it really wet.”

You startle both yourself and him when you utter, “what else?”

Harry clears his throat and looks away from your eyes, not because of discomfort because there was absolutely none, but for the reason that the more he stares the more he pictures you inside his head doing exactly what he was evoking. He blinks a couple of times in an attempt to get rid of the colorful conception, yet it just becomes even more lucid and clear-cut. He tries to distract himself by continuing to answer your questions. It definitely doesn’t help. It just drags the mental image on.

“I like it when they let me come down their throat, then swallow it. Or when — when the aftermath of pure bliss just overtakes my entire body. Like, they just pull away for a second then suck me right back in,” the skin on your legs feel sticky under his hold. You swallow at his dazed appearance and tiny smirk, as if he’s picturing it all in his head. And he is, “yeah. I like that a lot.”

Somehow it’s gotten a lot warmer inside the tiny space of your living room, every corner closing in on the two of you in your peripheral vision and you can’t exactly make out the tingling sensation on the tip of your fingers and in between your thighs. Well, you do. You know you’re undoubtedly turned on but acting clueless and ignoring it would be the best way to handle it.

You ask him one more question, the last one you’ll emit for the rest of the evening, “and how was it for them?”

Harry turns his head, connecting his darkened eyes with yours. There’s an indecipherable message written all over his handsome face. His voice is heavy, raspier and deeper with his accent when he answers for the last time, a specific implication behind his tone, “one of these days, you’ll see.”

[pies-writes-and-more]

unforgettable

request: asahi content!! :) 

pairing: asahi azumane x fem!reader 

warnings: all fluff besides asahi being a v nervous boi and daichi and suga teasing him lol

a/n: thank you for the request anon! I’ve been meaning to post some more love for our ace but I keep forgetting to finish the wips haha so thank you for getting me into the groove! big thank you to @satan-ruler-of-hells​ for helping me out with this fic :D

haikyuu masterlist

Asahi wondered how he should feel, having the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on, holding his hand, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Should he feel like his heart was going to burst out of his chest? Should his whole face be burning with embarrassment? Because here she was, smiling up at him and making him forget what his name was and there was really only one issue with this situation.

Asahi had absolutely no clue who this girl was.

“Are you excited for your match, babe?” You asked, seeming to not take notice of the fear and confusion in his eyes.

‘Babe’?

The team must’ve frozen behind him because no one was saying anything, except for the surprised sounds coming out of Noya and Tanaka’s gaping mouths.

“Oh hey there! You’re Asahi’s girlfriend right?” Daichi asked, grinning as he waved to her. “It’s nice to finally meet you. He talks about you all the time!”

I do? Asahi thought to himself, trying to think about his recent conversations with Daichi.

“Asahi, she’s so much prettier than i would’ve imagined! No wonder you didn’t want to bring her around - I would totally steal her off of you,” Suga laughed.

Asahi’s brow furrowed as you just nodded, introducing yourself to the team. I have a girlfriend? He wondered to himself, his heart beating too fast for his body to keep up. There was no way that this was possible. But his eyes were drawn to her - she was exactly his type. How the hell did he manage that? Besides that, how the hell did he manage to forget her?

Asahi Azumane you IDIOT, he scolded himself internally, just watching her smile and giggle at how excited everyone on the team was.

Hinata and Kageyama were both hiding in the back, whispering amongst themselves because the upperclassmen were acting as if Asahi had mentioned this girl before.... but they had definitely no memory of this.

“Maybe it happened when we were practicing one day?” Hinata whispered, eyes narrowing as he tried to see if he recognized you.

“I dunno, I don’t pay attention to anything they say unless it’s about volleyball,” Kageyama admitted quietly to him and Hinata smacked his arm, scolding him about paying more attention.

Asahi still felt like he was going to faint - this couldn’t possibly be happening. Wait, what was this girl’s name? He should’ve listened to you introduce yourself to the team - maybe your name would’ve sparked a memory for him. What kind of person was he to not even remember his girlfriend? And look at her, she was perfect, she would definitely leave him if he told her that he didn’t remember her. What kind of husband was he going to be if he couldn’t even remember her name?? What if he forgot his children’s names? What if-

You suddenly let out a breath, grinning and glancing up at him, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to come on so strong. But thank you for going along with it!”

Going.... along with it?

“And you guys too! I appreciate it!” You beamed, nodding specifically towards Daichi and Suga.

“No worries, I noticed those guys trying to catch up with you. I figured you were in a bit of trouble,” Daichi admitted, glancing through the crowds to make sure the creepy older guys had left after seeing you with them. “Will you be okay now?”

You nodded and looked over your shoulder, comforted by the fact that they were gone, “Yep! I’m sure once I find my way up on the stands, they’ll leave me be. Sorry again, I just saw a tall kinda scary looking guy and figured he was my best shot,” you laughed, smiling up at Asahi again.

“W-What?” Asahi wasn’t sure he was putting the pieces together fast enough - so... you weren’t his girlfriend?

Daichi rolled his eyes, punching the ace’s arm to shock him back to reality, “She got spooked by some dudes. Pretending you were her boyfriend was probably a way to get them off her back. You know, cause you look like a 30 year old man.”

Asahi frowned tightly at the comment, rubbing his arm, “Hey! I can’t help the way I look!” His eyes turned to Suga who was laughing at how mean Daichi could be. “So you knew too?”

“Oh no way. I’m not as quick as Daichi. But I saw you panicking cause you didn’t seem to recognize her and thought it was hilarious,” Sugawara laughed and Asahi groaned - he should’ve known his friends enjoyed watching him torture himself.

“Thank you for your help! Sorry again,” you apologized, for what felt like the 100th time. “I’d like to make it up to you if I can. I know I made you uncomfortable back there.”

Asahi shook his head quickly, waving his hands in front of him in protest, “N-No not at all! Why would I be uncomfortable at a pretty girl holding my hand?”

You giggled, noting the other teams starting to pile into the gym, “Well, maybe after your game I can find you and take you out for food as a thank you. I appreciate you helping me out there.”

Daichi and Sugawara were still snickering as they helped push the rest of the Karasuno team into the gym, trying to give their Ace some time with his fake girlfriend.

“You really don’t have to thank me, if anything it’s probably Daichi you should thank,” Asahi admitted, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“Mm maybe. But I don’t think your captain’s my type. I picked you cause you were kinda scary looking... but also you seemed like my type,” you explained to him with a laugh.

Asahi’s eyes probably popped out of his skull hearing that, stammering out all sorts of noises and making you laugh some more.

“You’re the ace for our team right?” You asked, glancing into the gym in hopes that you weren’t making him late. It was only then Asahi realized you were wearing a Karasuno school uniform. “I’ll be cheering for you up in the stands, boyfriend,” you teased, giving his hand a small squeeze. “And maybe later we can go get food together?”

Asahi felt his face burning with nerves as he nodded shyly, your smile making his stomach do all sorts of flipsjust nodded nervously, you shooting him another one of those gorgeous smiles, “S-Sure.”

“It’s a date!” You beamed, waving a little to him as you went off to find a spot on the bleachers.

The tall third year finally let out a breath he had been holding, wondering if he had dreamt the whole thing. He looked at his hand, reimagining how it had felt with your hand in it.

“Oi! Asahi! Are you coming or what?” Sugawara called from the gym. Asahi blushed some more as he shook off his daydreams, nodded quickly and rushing in to start stretching with everyone else. “I hope you got her number.”

“W-What?”

“Y/N! That girl that you were just talking to! Did you get her number?” Sugawara asked, eager for the details. It wasn’t every day that Asahi seemed so head over heels over a girl (especially one he just met).

“N-No but… she wants to get food together,” Asahi admitted shyly, playing with his fingers in front of him.

“Well you better play your best today so she doesn’t back out,” Daichi snickered as he joined the conversation.

Asahi whined as Daichi and Sugawara continued to tease him, both of them hitting his back with some somewhat supportive words, grinning ear to ear, “Go and be the best ace ever!” Suga cheered as the game started.

Asahi took a breath, silently promising himself that he would play his absolute best this game as he caught your eyes up in the stands, smiling softy to himself. “Y/N,” he whispered to himself, repeating the name that you had given Sugawara and the others. He heard you cheering for them with the other Karasuno students as the game went by, points racking up as he felt himself getting more into the game.

After their win, Asahi was happy to find you hanging around as everyone else was disappearing. “So you really are as good of an ace as they say,” you complimented him with a smile. “It was really cool to see you play.”

“T-Thank you,” Asahi blushed, brushing some flyaway hair from his eyes. “I guess I should properly introduce myself. Azumane Asahi, but please, call me Asahi.”

He held his hand out to you and your happily shook it, both of you immediately wondering if it was common to find someone whose hand seemed to fit so perfectly with your own, “Y/L/N Y/N, but call me Y/N. I did say I would treat you to some food, so what kind are you thinking?” You asked boldly, smiling up at him. It wasn’t every day you found a guy like him and if he was interested, you definitely weren’t planning on letting him go.

Asahi spluttered out some more sounds, ones that definitely weren’t words, and you just giggled in response, making him even more nervous because your laugh was just so wonderful. “A-Anything you want,” he finally managed to get out. Was this really happening to him? A perfect girl like you asking him out?

“I’ve been craving ramen if you’re interested!”

“I know this great place that has tonkotsu ramen!” Asahi found himself blurting out excitedly, suddenly also craving ramen.

“Sounds like a pretty good date to me,” you glanced at the clock nearby, quickly tugging your bag off your shoulders and pulling out a pen. “Here. I assume you’ve got to head back with your team, but text me,” you suggested, scribbling your number on his arm. “Sorry if I’m being too bold,” you apologized with a laugh, tossing your pen back into your bag. “You just seem pretty cool.”

Asahi shook his head quickly, insisting there was no need for you to apologize, “I-I like it.” He gave you a wave as you started to head out, looking at the digits written on his skin as if memorizing them just in case they magically disappeared.

“Y/L/N Y/N,” he murmured under his breath. He wouldn’t be forgetting your name anytime soon, he was sure of that.

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[softspideys]

The Perfect Date

summary: tom makes it his mission to take you on the perfect first date. the only problem is, you have no idea. 

warnings: none

word count: 3.6k

pairings: tom holland x reader

a/n: this was supposed to be a valentine’s day fic but then I forgot about it. oops. plz enjoy anyway

Tom had just started the last lap of Wario’s Gold Mine when he heard Zendaya ask, “Got any plans for Valentine’s Day?”

He tried not to pay attention to your answer, focusing on keeping his lead, but he couldn’t help it. His eyes flickered over to where you were sitting at the kitchen table, absently circling your finger around the rim of your wine glass.

You straightened up at her question, scoffing. “Are you kidding? When’s the last time you saw me date anybody, Z?”

“Hey,” she said, pointing at you accusingly. “Don’t even start with me. I set you up with people all the time, it’s not my fault you’re so picky.”

“It’s called having standards,” you fired back. “Sorry I’m not interested in pretentious jerks who insist on mansplaining Tarantino films to me over their venti-soy-no-foam latte with a triple shot of espresso.”

Zendaya cackled, and though he couldn’t see your face, Tom could tell you were smiling too; your words had no real bite to them.

“Seriously though,” you continued with a sigh. “I think I might just give up dating for a while. Lately it feels like my only options are either crappy blind dates or going through a sleazy hookup app for some mediocre sex. I can’t remember the last time I got properly asked out and went on, like, a nice date.”

As soon as you said that, the gears started turning in Tom’s head. And then he got an idea so good he almost forgot about the race entirely, until Harrison hit him with a red shell and passed him, sailing over the finish line in first place.

“Yes!” Harrison cheered, causing you and Zendaya to look over, startled. “Finally, I won!”

“Wow,” Zendaya said, amused. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever lost in Mario Kart, Holland.”

“Yeah, what’s gotten into you?” you asked teasingly as Harrison got up and did a victory dance.

Tom normally hated losing, but he was too preoccupied at the moment to care. “Nothing,” he said quickly. “Just . . . a little rusty, I guess.”

You raised your eyebrows, but then Zendaya challenged Harrison to a rematch, and the two of them immediately started a new grand prix while you called dibs on the winner. With the distraction in place, Tom had plenty of time to come up with a plan.

The four of you had been friends for years, but he’d always harbored something of a crush on you. He’d never tried to push the boundaries or pursue you because he liked your relationship as it was already, and didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. But this would be different. This was harmless. He was simply going to show you how you deserved to be treated, give you a good date to remember among the bad ones.

Nothing else. Right?

* * *

You eyed the huge bouquet of roses your coworker had on her desk and tried not to feel too envious. She’d made a big show of bringing them in this morning and inviting everyone who walked by to smell them, going on and on about how her girlfriend had surprised her for Valentine’s Day yesterday.

So what, you thought to yourself. I can get myself flowers whenever I want; I don’t need a holiday to have an excuse to do it. It really didn’t make you feel better though.

“Hey,” a familiar voice said, making you jump a mile. You looked up. Tom was peering over the wall of your cubicle, which was . . . unexpected. He hardly ever visited you at work.

“Oh, hi,” you said. “I didn’t even see you come in.”

“Yeah, you were totally zoned out,” Tom said. “Good thing I brought caffeine.” He placed a to-go cup from your favorite coffee shop on your desk. You saw the order written on the side; he’d gotten it exactly right.

“Wow,” you said, surprised but grateful. “Thanks.” You’d already had coffee this morning, but clearly it was shaping up to be a two-cup type of day. You took a careful sip and felt better already.

“No problem.” Tom followed your line of vision to your coworker’s desk. “Pretty flowers.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, a little quietly. You cleared your throat. “So, what’s up? Did we have plans today or something?”

“Oh, no,” he said, shifting from foot to foot, “but that’s actually kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.” He seemed nervous, which in turn made you nervous.

“Okay,” you said, giving him your full attention.  

“So . . . are you doing anything this Friday night?”

It was only Monday. You thought for a second before shaking your head. “I don’t think so.”

“Would you like to have dinner? With me?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. That was it? “Oh. Sure.”

You could’ve sworn you saw his eyes widen the slightest bit. “Really? I mean, great. Cool.” He scratched his nose. “So, Friday at six o’clock, then? I’ll text you the name of the place?”

“Sounds good,” you said. He seemed excited, though you couldn’t figure out why. You got dinner with him, Harrison, and Zendaya at least once a week.

“Alrighty,” Tom said, swinging his arms a little and nodding. “Well, I’ll let you get back to work. See you Friday.”

“See you,” you said. Did he really come all the way to your office to ask you this in person instead of just texting you like he normally would? Maybe he’d been nearby or something. You watched him leave, mostly confused but also kind of endeared.

“Was that your boyfriend?” your coworker asked, subtly adjusting her flowers again.

You quickly shook your head, turning back to your computer and taking another sip of your coffee. “Oh, no. Just a friend.”

As Tom left your office, he allowed himself to do a small fist-pump. Getting you to agree was the hardest part. Now came the slightly-easier-but-still-hard part: making sure he gave you the best first date ever.

* * *

Something strange was going on with Tom. You first realized it when you brought up the dinner on Friday to Zendaya and she had no clue what you were talking about.

“Tom didn’t invite you?”

“Nope.” She popped the “p.”

“Huh.” You chewed your lip. “That’s . . . weird. Maybe he figured I’d just tell you about it. And I guess you don’t really need an invitation anyway . . . do you think he invited Harrison?”

“I don’t know.” You were on the phone, so you couldn’t see Zendaya’s face, but it kind of sounded like she was trying not to laugh. “Maybe he wants it to be just the two of you.”

“Maybe.” It was rare, but it wasn’t like you never spent time with just Tom or Harrison.  You couldn’t remember the last time you had dinner with either of them one-on-one, though. This seemed . . . different. “But I’m sure he won’t mind if you guys show up,” you said with a shrug.

Now Zendaya did laugh. “No, no, it’s fine,” she said. “I think I’m supposed to babysit my niece and nephew anyway. You guys have fun.”

Then there was Tom himself. You hadn’t seen him in person since Monday, but he’d been texting you random questions all week:

Do you prefer a casual or an elegant ambiance?

How many candles on a table is too many? Or do you think overhead lamps are better?

Oyster bars . . . yes/no?

You answered all of them with increasing bemusement, but any time you asked why he would mysteriously change the subject. You couldn’t help but feel like there was something you were missing here.

Finally, he sent you the name of the restaurant on Friday morning: Soul & Persona.

You’d never heard of it, so you decided to look it up. One glance at their website told you this place wasn’t like the casual restaurant-and-bars you and your friends usually frequented. This was fancy. Clicking over to the menu, you inhaled sharply at the prices written next to the items. Luckily, today was payday.

You arrived at the restaurant shortly before six. Another person was already standing outside, and as you got closer you realized it was Tom. Two things about that were already weird: one, he was normally notoriously late to everything; and two, he was holding a bouquet of roses in one hand that were so big they nearly obstructed his face.

He didn’t notice you approaching, busy frowning at something on his phone. “Hey,” you said at last, making him jump.  

“Oh! Hey!” He cleared his throat, shoving his phone in his pocket. “I mean—good evening.” He did a strange little bow before thrusting the flowers at you. “These are for you.”

“Wow,” you said, taking them carefully. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You look really nice.”

You were glad you researched the restaurant in advance, because the jeans and t-shirt combo you’d originally planned on wearing would definitely not have been appropriate here.

“So do you,” you said. He did: he was wearing slacks and a nice dress shirt under a jacket, his hair neatly combed.

“Thanks. Should we go in?” he asked. You nodded, and he hurried to open the door, ushering you inside. It was crowded, which made you a little worried. How long would the wait time be?

But Tom went right up to the hostess stand. “Hi,” he said, “we have a reservation for two at six; the name is Tom?”

She looked at her book and nodded. “You can follow me right this way.” She led you to a quiet corner of the restaurant and seated you at a table by the window. “Enjoy your meal.”

“Here,” Tom said, pulling your chair out before you could sit down. Again, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

“This place is crazy nice,” you said, looking around as the hostess placed a wine list on the table.

“Yeah,” Tom agreed, a little distractedly. “Um. So. Do you prefer to work in a team or alone?”

You blinked. “What? Where’d that come from?”

He shrugged, fidgeting with his collar like he was nervous. “I—I dunno. Just making conversation.”

“Oo-kay,” you said with a laugh. “Well, I haven’t seen you since you blessed my office with your presence on Monday. How was your week? Didn’t you have to give a presentation yesterday?”

“Yes, and one of the board members literally fell asleep during it,” Tom said, wrinkling his nose.

He seemed to loosen up after that, and the conversation flowed naturally from then on as you talked about your plans for the weekend, your friends, your families, and any other random thoughts that occurred to you.

For dinner you tried a pasta dish while Tom got steak, and you each had the soup of the day for an appetizer. Your knowledge of wine was limited to whatever was cheapest when you went to the liquor store, but Tom had apparently become an expert overnight: he asked the waiter all kinds of questions about their reds vs. their whites before finally ordering a bottle for the two of you to share.

All in all, it was an enjoyable dinner. You always had fun with Tom, of course, but you rarely got to spend time with just him. And though you normally stayed away from expensive places like this one, you had to admit the food was delicious and the ambiance made you feel very sophisticated.

“Can I get either of you some coffee or dessert?” the waiter asked as he cleared your plates. You’d never been one to say no to that, but Tom jumped in before you could open your mouth.

“No thank you,” he said quickly. “Just the check please.” Then he looked at you. “I thought maybe we could walk to that bookstore you like? The one with the bakery in it? We could—we could get dessert there and browse.”

“Oh,” you said, surprised. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

“Cool.” He sounded relieved.

The waiter brought out the bill and Tom grabbed it as soon as he set it on the table. “What are you doing?” you protested. There was normally an agreement among your friends that everyone paid for their own meals when you went out to dinner.

“I’m paying,” he insisted, waving you off as you fruitlessly tried to put your own debit card down.

“At least let me Venmo you for my half.”

“Nope.”

“Tom!”

“Seriously, it’s fine.” He wouldn’t even let you see how much the meal cost.  

You could tell he wasn’t going to budge for whatever reason, so you had no choice but to relent. “If you’re sure,” you said, watching him smugly sign the receipt. You made sure to grab your flowers before you got up and followed him out of the restaurant.

The bookstore you liked was a few blocks away, but you didn’t mind the walk. The air was warm but balmy, refreshing on your face. “That was amazing,” Tom said.

“It was,” you agreed. “I’m convinced they put actual crack in that pasta sauce. It was otherworldly.”

He laughed before he asked, a little hesitantly, “So are you . . . having a nice time?”

You looked over at him questioningly. “Of course I am. But I always have a nice time with you.”

“Good,” he said quietly, nodding. “Good.”

“Are you?”

“Yes,” Tom said immediately. “I just wanted to make sure. So, what are some of your pet peeves?”

“What is it with you and these questions?” Thankfully, you arrived at the bookstore and were spared from answering.

One of your favorite things about hanging out with Tom was that you didn’t necessarily need to be attached at the hip or in constant conversation in order to have fun. As soon as you entered he made a beeline for the True Crime section while you went to look at the new releases.

It was nice to just browse on your own for a while, and you ended up buying a book you’d been wanting to read ever since it came out. Tom was still perusing the shelves after you checked out, so you sneakily went up to the bakery counter and bought some dessert.

He found you sitting at a table in the cafe, reading your new book. “What’s this?” He gestured to the two pieces of cake and cups of decaf coffee on the table in front of you. “You should’ve let me pay!”

You’d been anticipating this, so you merely rolled your eyes. “Cry about it. You paid for dinner; it was the least I could do.”

“That’s not how this works,” Tom objected, but he reluctantly sat down and pulled his cake towards him anyway. The two of you discussed your books while you ate, and you tried not to act like you were eyeing his slice the entire time.

He noticed, of course. “You wanna try?”

You nodded sheepishly. You expected him to push the plate towards you, but instead he scooped a piece up onto his fork and held it out. “Here.” A little surprised, you opened your mouth and allowed him to feed it to you. For some reason it felt oddly intimate.

He was watching you expectantly as you chewed. “Good?”

“Yeah,” you managed to say, swallowing. “Really good.”

It was getting late and the store was closing soon, so you left after finishing your coffees. Usually this was when you’d call it a night and go home, but this time you felt no strong desire to. So when Tom started walking along the river instead of heading back towards the restaurant, you didn’t mind at all, falling into step beside him.

The night sky was clear, giving you a breathtaking view of dozens of stars. Hardly anyone else was around, and the river below was quiet and calm. It was like you were suspended in time. You couldn’t remember ever feeling so peaceful.

Tom’s hand bumped yours as you walked. You didn’t think anything of it at first, but then it happened again, and this time he laced his fingers through yours.

For some reason that was what made everything suddenly fall into place, for you to finally put two and two together and realize what was going on.

Oh my God.

“Tom,” you said hesitantly, shattering the comfortable silence between you.

“Yeah?”

“Is this . . . a date?”

He stopped walking, forcing you to do the same. Under the soft glow of the streetlights you could see he was staring at you. “Wait,” he said slowly. “This whole time . . . you didn’t know?”

Now that he’d basically just confirmed it, everything started to make sense: coming all the way to your office just to ask you to dinner, bringing you coffee, making reservations at a fancy restaurant, paying for the meal—

You were on a date and you hadn’t even realized.

“Oh, God,” was all you could say. You almost wanted to laugh, though nothing about this was even remotely funny. It was like you’d been hit over the head with a brick.

How could you not have known? It should’ve been obvious when he paid for the meal; no, when you realized you’d be eating at such a fancy place; no, when he showed up randomly on Monday, brought you coffee, and fucking asked you to dinner.

You both seemed to realize at the same time that you were still holding hands, and he quickly dropped it and stepped back. For the first time since you’d met, the air between the two of you was awkward. “I—I’m so sorry. I thought you knew.”

“I should’ve known,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m so stupid, I just didn’t think—” You didn’t finish your sentence. You honestly couldn’t figure out why you didn’t realize it sooner.

Because he’s your friend, a voice in the back of your head reminded you. He’s your friend and he’s never expressed any interest in you before, not like this.

That was true. You’d always thought Tom was handsome, and maybe early on in your friendship you’d fantasized about him once or twice. But he always treated you normally, never outwardly showing any sign of wanting more.  

“You’re not stupid,” he said immediately. “I should’ve made it more clear.”

“I’m just confused, I guess,” you said carefully. “I mean . . . why now? And why . . . me?”

He exhaled. “I overheard you the other day when you and Z were talking, and you were saying something like . . . you hadn’t been properly asked out and taken on a nice date in a while. So I guess I just wanted to do that for you. Make you happy.”

Your brain felt like it was short-circuiting. You didn’t know what to say to that, but he seemed to take your silence as a cue to keep going.

“That’s why I came to your office, to ask you in person instead of doing it over text or whatever. And I saw you looking at those flowers your coworker had, so I bought you some. And I picked this restaurant because it was nice but also because it was near the bookstore. And I memorized some first-date questions in case our conversation got boring, but I think that probably wasn’t necessary.” He sucked in a deep breath. “And now that I’m saying all of this I realize how weird it sounds. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“Oh,” you said dumbly. His previous words were still echoing in your head. I guess I just wanted to do that for you. Make you happy.

He’d taken the time to think about all the things you liked and used that knowledge to plan the Perfect Date. You couldn’t remember the last time anyone had done something so kind, so thoughtful, so . . . romantic. Did this mean what you thought it meant?

Of course, the only way you were able to translate all of this was with, “Wow.”

But then he added, “And—and I didn’t do all of this because I thought it would lead to a second date or anything like that. I only—”

“Wait,” you interrupted, your stomach plummeting. This conversation was giving you whiplash. “So you . . . don’t like me?”

“Huh?”

“You did all of this . . . just because? You don’t actually want to go on a date with me?” Now you were more confused than ever, and a little hurt beneath that.

Tom’s eyes widened. “No! Well yes, but . . . no. Wait.” He took a deep breath. Now or never, right? “I do like you, but this was separate from all that. I only meant that I wasn’t expecting anything from this. I just wanted you to have a good time.”

You nodded slowly, exhaling. “Okay. So . . . what if I told you that I did have a good time, that I like you too, and I want go out with you again?”

Tom blinked at you owlishly for a second before his face split into a huge grin, one you were sure your own was mirroring. “Then . . . I’d say . . . same. To all of it.”

“Good,” you said, stepping closer. “In fact, I think this has almost been the perfect first date.”

He paused. “Wait, almost? What would make it perfect?” He furrowed his eyebrows, looking a little panicked. You laughed, reaching up and cupping his jaw.

“It has to end with a good-night kiss, doesn’t it?”

Tom relaxed, his hands finding their way to your waist. “Oh. Yes, you’re absolutely right.”

The two of you were still smiling as you kissed, and Tom lifted one of his hands to do a silent, sneaky fist-pump. 

Mission: success.

[winter-soldier-vibes]

We Need You

Bucky x reader

Word count: 1901

Summary: Bucky comforts a reader with imposter syndrome (inability to believe that one’s success is deserved)

Warnings: imposter syndrome, low self worth/self esteem, feeling worthless, slight angst, mostly comfort

A/N: I have issues that present similarly to imposter syndrome, but I don’t experience it fully or severely. You belong and wherever you are, you fucking earned that. You worked hard to get where you are. I hope this fic can bring you some comfort, I apologize if I did not serve the topic justice. Sorry it took so long! As always, if anyone needs anything from me or just wants to talk and vent, I am ALWAYS here! <3

Tags: @buckys2thicc @buckfics @thatfangirl42 @mardema @barnesplums @bucks-bunny @stucky-on-spiderman @peggycarter-steverogers @freigeistundanderes

Add yourself to my taglist! Masterlist

------

You were calm, cool and collected. Smart, dedicated, and hard-working. You were an Avenger, one of the more valuable assets to the team with your training in hand to hand combat and knowledge of weaponry. 

At least, that’s how everyone saw you. Everyone except you. 

Every “job well done” translated to “I could’ve done better” for you. Compliments in a way felt like pity to you. Like it was all a lie or something. You could’ve been better, you didn’t think you were anything special. 

Anytime someone gave you praise you would wave it off with a small smile. Everyone saw it as you being modest, but internally you just couldn’t accept it. You couldn’t accept praise knowing you could’ve done better.

Settle for nothing less than perfection. But nobody’s perfect.

You were endlessly grateful for your team, your family, but you couldn’t help but feel like you didn’t deserve it. You had so much good in your life, but you felt like you had to keep proving yourself. 

You had everything you could ever want, but you still felt like you had to earn it. 

You thought you had done a good job at keeping it hidden. Imposter syndrome you had heard someone call it at one point. You had looked into it, realizing more and more of it resonated with you. You didn’t feel that you deserved your spot on the team, even though most of the team could agree that you were one of their best fighters. 

You were also one of the kindest people on the team, and everyone enjoyed being in your company. Again, you wrote it off as them feeling obligated to talk to you rather than them choosing to talk to you. 

Everything you thought about yourself, the degrading names you called yourself, and the way you waved off all of your achievements didn’t match up at all with the way anyone thought about you. 

It went unnoticed to most. You would put up a front, small smiles and thank you’s occasionally. There would be small side comments that you would make occasionally, but it was nothing that would cause red flags to arise. 

It’s nothing, really.

I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have done.

It’s no big deal.

No worries

That’s why I’m here I guess

Compliments were deflected. Whenever you received criticism you would internalize it even though you knew it was nothing against you. Friendly advice to improve job performance. But for you, it reinforces the thought that your performance needed to be improved.

No matter what you did, you would never be good enough. You used to chase achievements, telling yourself that if you did well enough, if you did good things, that you would feel a sense of self worth. That maybe if you achieved things you would be filled with a sense of pride.

Instead you were left feeling as though you didn’t deserve any of the recognition you received. In a way, it made you feel even more insecure.

You thought that if you accepted the praise you would seem self indulgent or boastful that if you said what your achievements were you would seem prideful. So you accepted them with a small smile and thank you. At least until people moved onto the next topic and you drop the smile when it seemed safe. When no one was watching. 

When you thought no one was watching. 

Which is how Bucky had come to notice the discomfort you had.

When he had first joined the team, he was very quiet. He did a lot of listening and observing, not wanting to speak much himself. That was understandable to anyone. So when you had been introduced to him and your skillset had been mentioned and you waved it off saying no big deal, he had noticed how you shifted as if you were uncomfortable and your smile dropped as soon as the attention was on someone else. 

He didn’t think much of it. If anything it had to do with being uncomfortable around him. 

But as time passed he started relaxing around everyone too, especially you. He was still accepting what he had done and who he was now. He was still reserved but he wasn’t silent. The two of you had become good friends, being two of the quieter personalities on the team. 

Now you had someone to keep you company when you stayed at the outskirts of Tony’s parties.  

But as more time went on, he noticed small things that you did. Behaviors you had, things you said. Clutch phrases. The way you would seem embarrassed when people complimented you. The way you would say that there were no worries even if you were the only reason that a mission was successful. 

Sometimes when you thought you were alone or no one would hear, he would catch you mumbling things to yourself. Things like yeah right to compliments before giving a genuine response. The slight shakes of the head in protest. The nervous habits you had when you got a compliment. The little things that others were too distracted to notice, too small to 

Bucky was an observant man. 

Which is how one night, you hadn’t realized him come into your room to talk to you about something that Bucky completely forgot about once he saw you. You were sitting down at your desk, head in your hands and rubbing your eyes. 

Jesus why am I so stupid

What the fuck is wrong with me

They don’t mean what they say

How could they like you?

I’m worthless

Just like everyone else

I don’t belong here

You were so trapped by the marathon of degrading thoughts that you hadn’t heard Bucky come in. He stood beside you, concern etched on his face. 

“Y/n?” you jumped slightly and took your hands away from your face, blinking in surprise. You had been crying. Why was he here?

“Y/n what’s wrong?” he asked, coming over to you. 

You shook your head and shrugged, wiping a few loose tears from your face. “‘M fine Buck,” you whispered, struggling to keep your emotions out of your voice.

“Y/n,” Bucky said, crouching down in front of you. “You wouldn’t be crying if something wasn’t wrong. It’s okay to be upset, there’s nothing wrong with that. Just tell me why you’re upset.”

You shook your head again. “Really Buck, I’m fine.”

“Y/n, I may not be able to read minds like Wanda, but I know something’s bothering you.it’s okay.”

You sighed, taking a breath before looking at him. “Do you guys really mean it?” you suddenly asked meekly.

Bucky drew his eyebrows together in confusion. “Mean...what?” 

“After missions, when you say I did the right thing, that I did a good job, that you guys need me - do you mean it?”

Bucky looked more puzzled now. “Yeah, of course we do. Why else would we say things like that?”

“If you thought you were supposed to.” you said suddenly. “Or if, you know, you wanted to be polite, or you thought I wanted to hear it, or you didn’t really mean it I don’t really know I -”

“Y/n, hold on, slow it down...What?” Bucky said. “Why on Earth would you think that?”

You crossed your arms and shrugged. “I dunno, I just don’t really feel like I’m all that valuable to you guys here. I don’t do anything you guys couldn’t do without me. I make so many mistakes all the time and no matter how hard I try I just don’t feel like I belong here.”

Bucky took a minute to look at you. He had known you doubted yourself but this was beyond what he had thought. To think that you, y/n, weren’t valuable to this team was a crazy idea to him

To you it was the truth.

“Y/n, no, we need you. Why on Earth would you think you don’t belong?”

“Because I haven’t earned it. I’m on the team, I fight with you guys, but I still don’t feel like I should be. The mistakes I make all the time, the wrong calls, the selfish calls, bad judgements...I could go on. I just...no matter how much good I do it doesn’t make the mistakes go away.”

“Y/n, you are one of the best people we have, we -”

“No I’m not,” you said firmly, surprising Bucky. You shook your head. “You guys don’t need me. I don’t deserve to be on this team.”

“And I do?” Bucky asked.

You looked back at him. “What do you mean? Of course you do. Your the best fighter we have, Steve's best friend, we need you.”

“But I’ve made so many mistakes. You know all of the horrible things that I’ve done y/n. I was made into a weapon.” he said.”

“Bucky you know that wasn’t your fault. You didn’t choose that and you would've done anything to stop it. That’s different. You’re a great fighter and a good person, Bucky.”

“So are you.” he stated simply. “Do you believe that?”

You took a deep breath.  “I believe you believe that. But that doesn’t mean it’s true.”

Bucky put his hands on your shoulders. “You are a fighter. A hero. You’ve saved so many people doing things that some of us couldn’t or wouldn’t do. People out there remember how you saved them. How you protected them and gave yourself to them. That was you, no one else. You are a part of this team, you help make it what it is. We would be lost without you. You put your blood, sweat, and tears into this team. You give your heart and soul to this team. You’ve earned every goddamn bit of praise you get and more. You fought your place onto this team and you deserve to be here just as much as everyone else here. So when your head tells you that you don’t belong or that we don’t need you, tell it to fuck off. Because you’re one of the best people we have.”

By now you had tears in your eyes again, but not ones of shame. Ones of appreciation and relief. You had wanted to hear those words directly for so long and to be affirmed in that way was something you needed. “Thank you Bucky,” you said softly, giving him one of your first genuine smiles at a compliment.

He squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. “Anytime. Anytime you want a reminder, you let me know. I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it before you can start to believe it for yourself.”

[plush-rabbit]

A Protective Partner - Tomura Shigaraki Headcanons

Request: hi- im really sorry to bother you but ive been going through a tough time lately, stuff with my past and all but your writing has really been helping me through it. ive kind of been ghost binging your work and its one of the few things that calms me down as of late. i was wondering if maybe you could do a fic, a drabble, or even just some hcs about shigaraki who loves his s/o with everything he has, is just protective and won't let anything bad happen to her? just vows to protect her and let's her know that. i know its pretty soft and vague, but id just really like to read some whole-hearted love stuff right now, even if its blown completely out of proportion. dunno if you'll see this, but if you do, please don't feel obligated to answer or anything! i mostly just wanted to thank you for creating content that genuinely makes me feel better. i hope you have an awesome day/night! <3

A/N: I hope that you like it!! Feel better spoon!! Im always happy to talk to yall if youre going through stuff!! I hope that you enjoyed this. I always try to keep things realistic in a way when i write so i really hope that this was cute!!

-

Tomura isn’t quite the best with words. Living a sheltered life altered him, deprived him of the basic social skills and made a man who has set beliefs and morals. No matter the part of the relationship- the beginning stages of friendship, the trust gained and lost, the soft touches that burn against his skin, and the relationship part- it still remains forgin to him. It’s still something that he works on, that he grows and mimics. The parts that should be easy don’t read that way to him. He wants to prove to you and to himself that he isn’t just another chess piece but that he is his own person.

Though with stunted social skills, he still tries his best. He may not be the best at figuring out which emotion you are growing through nor can he properly read them, but he tries. Every touch is tentative until you reciprocate back towards him, your own hand twisting against his, your warmth pressed against his side, and your lips ghosting over his; every touch is something that he reaches with such carefulness as if he were to be pricked by a thorn. A simple touch makes his breath hitch and his heart skip a beat, a tender kiss against the scar near his eye makes him let out a shaky breath- he is so starved for affection that he is unable to word what he wants properly. He can try to act aloof but he knows when he’s been caught with a red face and a creeping smile that won’t falter so easily.

As the relationship develops, he’s able to tell when you’ve grown agitated or when you simply aren’t feeling your best. He understands that- he’s gone through huge shifts in his villainous career and while he may have been best when left alone and time to cool off, he knows that you are different from him. He doesn’t want to push so much, rather he’ll ask you if everything is okay, his hand reaching out to give yours a squeeze before releasing it and a pack of fruit snacks placed in your hands. Even then, he doesn’t relent, he may not push for an answer but he pushes for your time, wanting to be beside you even in silence to simply just sit and be in each other’s company.

More than likely, he’ll let you be in your thoughts for a day or two before confronting you- actually confronting you and asking you to tell him what’s wrong. He knows you’ve been acting differently- he can see the forced smiles, the way your eyes droop and how you distance yourself from the others in subtle ways from making yourself smaller to engaging with simple answers. His weight shifts in each foot, his hands clenched and a beginning redness starts to creep from his neck up towards his face. He doesn’t wait for an answer, rather letting out a sigh and sitting beside you as close as he can.

You can only suffer in silence for so long before he holds out his hand to you. An artist's glove covers his ring and pinky finger, his palm facing towards the cracked ceiling with the dim lighting making his features seem sharp, the shadow it casts grazing his profile and hiding the red that tints his face. He doesn’t verbally ask for your hand, rather letting it stay there as an offering for you to hold it or not. He wants for you to make that decision rather than him making it for you.

After several minutes of silence with his hand extended out towards you, your hand fits into his. Your fingers interlace with one another, the fabric soft against your bare skin. He takes this as his chance to talk, to let you slowly become comfortable in his presence, letting you know that you don’t have to talk, you can simply be there and he’ll be right beside you.

While he may not express it verbally, physical contact is something that he has grown to love. He believed that he could have lived without it, lived with the fact knowing that his hands could cause decay, but he wonders if that was something that he made up to ease the pain. He relishes in your touch, leans towards your warmth and loves to know that he can hold you with fear that you’ll leave him.

Your words come out slowly, a brief whisper that’s pained about how everything has suddenly gotten a bit too much. Your laugh is bitter, your eyes downcast and he can see a faint reddening of your cheeks, the brief color of red that settles against your skin and the way that you start to shift, looking at everything but at nothing, your eyes flickering around the room but never meeting his own eyes. Your voice tightens, your words tense and cracked between and he can see your facade slip for a moment, the eyes your eyes shine and how you suck in a deep breath of air through your teeth and the painful hold you have of his hand. You turn to him with a trembling bottom lip and a reddened nose, your eyes shining with tears. You slowly let go of his hand and call his name, your knee bumping against his as you turn to him.

His arms are solid against you, his hands pressed flat against your back as he pushes you close to him. You let out a short whine, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, your nose pressed against a pulsing point where he softly knocks his head against yours. Once he’s deemed that enough time has passed, he’ll pull away from you, cupping your face in his hands as he tells you that he would protect you against anything and everything. No matter what it is or who it is, he will always be on your side, he’ll protect you until his dying breath.

Slowly his hands fall from cupping your face to curving to your neck and towards the back of your head, tapping lightly to have you lean towards him. His lips press against the tip of your nose and he can hear your airy scoof, your lips tilting upwards as you wipe at your eyes. If there’s anything to describe Tomura, it’s passionate. He’s passionate about his goals, aiming to do whatever he can to make sure his version of the future comes into fruition, passionate about those close to him, becoming distraught at their absence and wanting to make sure that when he succeeds, whatever they want, they’ll receive. You’re one of the few people that he cares for, the lucky few that he would take with him to the ends of the world, to give you all that you ask for as long as you let him rest beside you.

[winterscaptain]

long shot.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic - no context required

a/n: this is in response to this ask in kind of a loose way, and also fulfills kiss prompt #6 (on a falling tear). i sat down and wrote this all in one sitting this weekend and it makes me smile SO MUCH. tell me what you think! i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it :) this one takes place in au!december 2012

words: 2.3k warnings: alcohol use/mention, allusions to sex, language

summary: “i couldn’t have dreamed you into existence because i didn’t even know i needed you. you must have been sent to me.” - kamand kojouri

It’s a rare early night off in December and you all make the ill-advised choice to go to the bar closest to the base for some drinks and dancing, completely forgetting that academy graduation is tomorrow. 

There’s part of you that feels aged by the whole thing. Even newly-minted agents your own age look fresh-faced and about a decade younger than you feel. 

When you all walk in, there’s a bit of a hush, a lull, in the conversations around you. You find eyes on you from all directions and realize your faces are familiar ones, and in the case of Aaron and Dave, almost-famous ones. 

Aaron pulls you further into him, almost shielding you with his body as you navigate through the crowd that parts before you. It seems like an eternity before you find a table, but Derek, Aaron, and Spencer hold down the fort while the rest of you manage drinks. Strategic postings at either end of the bar is likely going to get you the best return, so you fan out accordingly. 

It’s unsurprising in the least when the bartenders make a beeline for you all, getting your orders down and drinks started over the shouts of NATs - many of them already blasted with three or four shots under their belt. 

While you wait, you can still feel a fair few pairs of eyes on you. You meet one pair, set in the face of a rather handsome new agent about your age. He smiles at you, and you shift your eyes away from him, your expression unmoving. 

He apparently takes that as invitation enough. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot him as he winds his way to your side. 

You meet Aaron’s eyes across the room, and there’s a smile in them. You offer the smallest twitch of your lips and a wink. Watch this. 

Oh, I’m watching, his eyebrows say. 

“Hi.” The young agent finally reaches your side and offers his hand. You take it. “Agent Mark Sullivan.” 

You smile thinly and introduce yourself. “So, I take it you’ve just received an assignment?”

He laughs, making an attempt at charm. “Alright. You’re a profiler,” he says with confidence. “What gave me away?” It’s a challenge.

It’s also a long shot. A really really long shot. 

There were plenty of people in the vicinity that would be reeled in by his warm smile and handsome jawline, but your fine man (currently sprawled back in his chair with an arm on the back of the chair and a hand over his mouth to cover his smile) stands head and shoulders above the rest, sometimes literally. 

“Well,” you start, making a show of eyeing him from head to toe, “Your papers are still in your pocket and you’ve left your ID tag on, against academy and bureau regulations.” 

He startles and snatches it off his lapel, tucking it into his pocket. 

With a little smile, you soothe his embarrassment - it’s a play only designed to endear yourself to him. “It tells me you’re proud, excited. I felt the same way when I received my assignment and credentials. It’s a significant accomplishment.”

You can’t quite tell in the irregular darkness in the room, but he looks almost like he’s blushing. “Thanks.” He collects himself after a moment, putting his bravado back on. 

Your eyes flicker to Hotch once, twice. He’s still watchful. Amused. 

“So, I was lucky enough to see your lectures with the BAU and I must say...it’s impressive.” 

He says that like it’s some kind of validation. 

I need validation from this clown like I need a hole in the head. 

“Thanks. I’m usually rather modest, but I think it’s alright to say the BAU is a very fine unit.” If you’re honest, you’re talking about one particular unit chief’s...um...unit, specifically, but that’s neither here nor there.

He smirks. “What would you say if I told you I got a placement on one of the BAU teams?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Really? That’s quite the accomplishment.” A pair of arms wind around you and a kiss is pressed to your temple. 

It would also be a lie.

You smile and flip in Aaron’s arms, completely ignoring poor Mark. “I was just getting you a drink,” you explain, gesturing vaguely to the bar behind you. 

“I see. Did you get me -”

“Double scotch, neat, aged at least fifteen years? Yes, sir.” 

He smiles. “You know me so well.” 

“I sure do.” You pull him down by his tie and plant a firm kiss on his lips and shove him off with a smile. “Go. Sit. I’ve got it.” 

You turn back to Mark with a breathless sort of laugh. Aaron always makes you feel a little flushed and you’re happy to play it up for the benefit of the moment. “Sorry about that.” 

Mark, you find, is reconsidering his strategy. His face, while still outwardly warm, harbors a kind of calculated look to it that would almost be funny if you weren’t so eager to see what kind of trick he’d pull next. “So, Hotchner?”

“What about him?”

Mark shrugs. “I dunno. Doesn’t he have a kid?”

You nod. “Yep.” 

“And he’s a widower, right?”

“Yes.” 

Mark laughs a little. “Wouldn’t it be kinda nice to, I dunno, have some fun for a little while?”

You frown at him, and your drink arrives at the hands of the frazzled bartender. You pull the fifty from your sleeve and pass it to him with a smile. After a sip, you ask. “What do you mean?”

“It seems like a lot to take on, you know?” He backpedals upon seeing your squint. “I mean, I’m sure he’s a great guy, but wouldn’t it be nice to have someone...I dunno -” He restores his confidence and leans on the bar. Again, his moves would probably work on someone else, but you were a lost cause. “- easier?”

Aaron’s scotch arrives. You pick it up in your free hand and shrug somewhat breezily. “Maybe.” 

You brush past him, leaving Mark a little confused and a bit stunned. When you return to the table after much jostling, you take a seat right on Aaron’s lap and pass him his drink, reclining in his arms. Scanning over the crowd, Mark’s frowning face sticks out like a sore thumb and you try not to look too smug. 

Other than Rossi, the rest of the team is already out on the dance floor, so you know Aaron doesn’t mind having you close. 

He sets his scotch down and wraps his arms around you kissing the underside of your jaw. You lean into his touch and smile. 

There’s nothing easier than this. 

+++

There’s something a bit sulky about Aaron when you settle next to him in bed. You squint at him, looking for his eyes as they follow the loose pattern on the bedspread. 

“Hey.” You bump his shoulder with yours. “What’s on your mind?” 

He shakes his head a little, still not meeting your eyes. “Nothing. Just thinking.” 

With a roll of your eyes, you throw the covers off and sling a leg over him, straddling his thighs. You tap your palms on his pecs on-beat with your begging. “Come on. Tell me tell me tell me tell -”

“Jesus, alright!” He cuts you off with two hands over yours, his thumbs running fondly over your knuckles. “I just…” He huffs, already a little frustrated with himself for feeling put out. 

You slide your hands out from underneath his, running up over his collarbones and shoulders to find the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“I couldn’t help but overhear…”

You let all your breath out in a huff. “Oh, Aaron. He’s a stupid NAT who knows the only way to come after you is to come after your history.” You kiss his cheek and tuck into him. “He was trying to be a big-dick boy and it didn’t pay off for him.” 

There’s a halfhearted laugh from underneath you, and his hands wander across your back. “He is right, though. It would be easi-”

“If you say ‘easier,’ Aaron Hotchner, I’m going to lose my shit.” 

He sighs, and you pull back, tipping his chin up with a finger. 

“Hey. I love Jack. He is not an added weight in my life. He does not make my life harder in any way. Your son,” you emphasize with taps on his lips, “is the light of my life and I wouldn’t ever want to be without him.” 

Aaron’s eyes get a little misty. For his sake, you ignore it and continue. 

“I never feel like a replacement for Haley. I’ve never once minded leaving room for her in our lives because she’s my friend and I love her and I love you. I loved you before we lost her and I’ve loved you long after. This baggage keeps my feet firmly planted on the ground.” 

Aaron takes a deep breath, and his voice has the smallest of wavers when he speaks. Before he even starts, you concede to let him share what he’s feeling, if only to rebut it. “But you could - you could have so much. You could have someone ten or fifteen years younger who - I don’t know - could do things with you that thirty-somethings do. You wouldn’t have to spend your weekends at soccer games or your evenings rubbing Icy Hot on my bad knee or dealing with me on rough pain days or raising your voice because I can’t hear shit on my right side.” 

He shakes his head, and you brush the tears that fall with your thumbs. “You could have - You deserve, so much more...” The rest of his words go unspoken, but you hear them anyway. 

You deserve so much more than me.

Your eyes sting and you blink rapidly, letting your tears wet your lashes. Leaning forward, you kiss away his remaining tears, shifting your weight to wrap your legs around his waist and get as close as you can. 

With your head on his left shoulder, you whisper, “Aaron, I don’t want someone ten or fifteen years younger. I don’t care what I’m doing on my evenings and weekends because I get to spend them with you.” 

You pause for a moment. “And, I don’t need boys. I’m done with boys.” 

You lean back, looking him square in the eye, or at least trying to. “I have a man who has silver in his hair because he worries and is in his mid-forties and it doesn’t fucking matter. I have a man who is the subject of so many crushes and fantasies at the academy it makes me want to vomit.” You laugh a little at your own joke, but he’s still focused on the seam of your shirt at your collar. Changing gears, you bring your hands to the sides of his neck, feeling his pulse jump under your thumbs.

“I have no need for boys because I have a man who treats me with kindness and respect. A man who is thoughtful, who isn’t afraid of himself. A man who knows himself, who loves his son, who invited me into his life when he didn’t have to because he’s brave.”

A couple more tears fall down your cheeks and you frame his face with your hands. “You love better and more courageously than anyone I have ever known.” 

You sniffle a little. “Aaron, honey...I love you. I wouldn’t want anything else, or anyone else, for my life, to be my partner, my best friend, the person I love. Odds have it that you’ll be my husband and the father of any other kids we might acquire and that we’ll grow even older and grayer together.” 

You let a little facetious smirk cross your lips. “And I’d like you to look at me and tell me I’d be happy with some dickhead named Mark with a business degree who wears shoes well-outside his pay grade.” 

That does it. 

Aaron smiles and pulls you to him with a hand at the back of your head. Your lips meet and you can taste the saltwater, but it doesn’t matter. 

He pulls back to look at you, and he really looks at you. His eyes roam hungrily over your face as if trying to memorize every line and curve and lash and budding wrinkle he finds there. 

You simply melt in the dark brown of his eyes, watching him take his time. 

Even then, as you expected, there is some doubt - not in you, of course, but in him. “Really?”

“Really.” You hold up your fist between your faces, pinky extended. “Pinky promise.” 

He smiles a little and links your pinkies together, twisting your hands to kiss your knuckles. Your hands drop into your lap and another little smile crosses your face. 

“What?” He asks.

You shrug. “I’m also thinking about how thirty-something-year-old boys absolutely suck in bed. I can pretty much guarantee that you’re better at - well, just about everything.” 

He closes his eyes and smiles, looking the picture of a happy house cat in the sun. You draw closer, running your nose along his. He leans toward you and captures your lips again. 

The next few hours? Don’t worry. They’re spent proving your point.  

+++

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[gallavictorious]

Gallavich Week Day 2: Fantasy AU

Summary: Prince Ian is offered up as a sacrifice to appease one of the dragons that haunt his father’s kingdom. Rather than being burned alive or eaten he is inexplicably left to wander the dragon’s lair in peace, as long as he never tries to leave and never enters the mysterious tower chamber. Then he meets fellow prisoner Mikhailo and starts to wonder if maybe this whole sacrificial gig isn’t such a bad deal after all.

Or, Ian Gallagher tells a bedtime story, and Mickey Milkovich is himself.

Fair Warning 1: There’s some Mickey-typical homophobic language in this one.

Fair Warning 2: I wrote all ridiculous 5K of this today (work? what work?) and it’s a little bit of a curious mess. Like, the sort of curious mess you get if you take Lip’s Hall of Shame, @gardenerian’s lovely bedtime stories, the novel “Dealing with Dragons” by Patricia Wrede, the Swedish picture book “Bröllop i Marsipanien” by Lena Karlin, the Greek myth of Andromeda, a bunch of folk tales about shapeshifting lovers, and the questionable old practice of MSTing fics, and then you stuff them all into a Kee and shake her around for a bit and then you pour it out into the shape of a 12 hour long and highly inadvisable speedwriting session.

Read it at your own risk, below or on AO3.

Very Important Note: I make fun of fic writing in this fic. Please note that I’m only making fun of myself and general tropes; any and all allusions to actual fic in the fandom is entirely coincidental.

---

Lest They Say, Here Be Dragons

Hush now, child; settle down. Close your eyes – yes, just like that – and listen:

Once upon a time and elsewhere, there was a kingdom. The people there were no happier than people anywhere else, and poorer than most, but they made do and lived and danced and grieved and died as people have always done.

Jesus, that’s gay.

That is, until the dragons came.

Okay, now you’re talking.

Like a plague they swept the land, winged beasts with fire for breath and ice in their hearts. Every night the fields burned, and the villages burned, and the cattle burned and was eaten. Many a brave people took up arms and went to confront the monsters, and then they burned too.

Heart-broken and terrified, the people went to the king to plead for aid. “Send an emissary to the dragons,” they said. “Reason with them and strike a bargain, or else we are sure to perish.”

What a bunch of pussies. What they should do is, they should use a bunch a cow shit to build a bomb and nuke the hell out of those dragons. Problem fucking solved.

Now, this king was a scoundrel and a drunk and the queen had an unfortunate habit of turning herself into a bird and flying off to more interesting lands whenever the mood took her. They had six children but rarely paid them any mind and fair Princess Fiona, eldest of the six, was left to raise her younger siblings as best she could. False King Francis would have been perfectly content to turn his desperate subjects away if it weren’t for the fact the dragons unchecked rampage threatened the production of the spirits the king so enjoyed. So, donning a mask of compassionate concern, for he was a skilled liar, he promised the people that he would help them. But as soon as they had left, comforted, he turned the task over to his children.

The second oldest child, foxy Prince Philip—

Foxy Prince Philip?

Yeah, you know. Foxy. Like clever.

Why not just say clever then?

‘Cause it’s not alliterative.

Alliter—

Starts with the same sound. Foxy – Philip. Fair – Fiona.

Oh, I get it. Like, Ian – idiot. Ow!

Foxy Prince Philip was known far and wide for being the cleverest in all the land, and by using all his cunning he managed to strike a deal with the leader of the dragons.

“By using all his cunning.” Skimming over the details a bit there, huh?

You really want me to turn this into a Prince Philip story? Hear me go on and on about what a genius he is?

…

Yeah, that’s what I thought.

It was agreed that the dragons would spread out over the kingdom, each one building their own place to live near a village, and that the villagers would bring them food and drink. In turn, the dragons would refrain from casual pyromancy and protect the villagers from harm.

Protection racket, huh. Classic. Starting to like these dragons, man.

In addition, the cruel leader of the dragons demanded that each dragon be offered a child of the land in sacrifice. No matter how Prince Philip bargained he could not change the dragon’s cold heart on this—

Guess he wasn’t so clever after all.

—and so, with heavy hearts and much lamenting, each village drew lots to determine which poor child would be sent as an offering to their new resident dragon. However, in the village nearest to the castle the people grew angry when the beloved blacksmith’s only child, a small girl of just four, was selected, and they went to the king and they said:

“It isn’t fair that some people are asked to give up their only child to appease the dragons while you, who have six children, are exempt from the lottery.”

King Francis, fearing an uprising as much as he feared the dragons (since each was as likely as the other to leave him without a drink), quickly nodded.

“That’s true,” he said. “And fairness must ever be the true monarchs first and most important concern. Though it breaks my heart, I can’t in good conscience watch my people sacrifice their own children without offering up my own. You may take Prince Ian and give him to the dragon.”

At this, the other princes and princesses raised their voices in furious protest, for they loved their brother even if their father did not. But industrious Prince Ian—

Industrious? That really the best you can come up with?

—stepped forward and declared that he’d be happy to give up his life, so that the child of the blacksmith might be spared. And so, as the sunt set, he was taken away to the lair of the dragon that had made its home near the castle.

So let me get this straight… The king is happy to toss Prince Ian to the wolves ‘cause he hates him, and his siblings are all sad and shit but they still let him go off to get fucking eaten by dragons?

Yes.

Uh-huh.

What?

…

Oh, fuck you. It’s just a story.

Totally.

Stepping into the lair, with heart a-hammering but on stubbornly steady legs, Prince Ian set eyes upon the beast that was to be his destiny. He was momentarily relieved to see it was not the terrible leader of the dragons, as he had feared, but a smaller monster he did not recognize. Black was its hide, its eyes a cold sparkling blue—

Gallagher, I swear to god, if you turn me into some lame ass henchman dragon—

Keep interrupting, asshole, and it’ll be a pink fucking unicorn. And hang on, you’ll show up in a little bit.

Setting his jaw, Prince Ian prepared to die a heroic death—

‘Course he did, the stupid motherfucker. Hey, if Prince Philip was so fucking smart, and if he gave a shit about his brother, shouldn’t he have given him, I dunno, a knife or something?

Prince Ian prepared to die a heroic death, because unlike some other people he was not a selfish prick and he actually cared about the people of the kingdom, but much to his surprise the dragon did not burn him. Instead, it just stared at him for a good long while, until suddenly it declared:

“You must never leave the lair, and you must never set foot inside the tower chamber. Abide by these rules and you may live. Break these rules and I’ll rip your heart out and eat it while you watch, and then I’ll burn the castle down with your beloved siblings inside.”   

You tell him, dragon.

With that the dragon took flight and disappeared, leaving Prince Ian to stand alone in the great hall of the lair, confused but alive. The young prince remained where he was for a few minutes, thinking that the dragon might come back, but when it did not he set out to explore his new home. It was big, with endless rooms and nooks and crannies, but it was badly kept, with strange bits and pieces cluttering up the hallways and chambers. Prince Ian found some old blankets and he used those to set up a pallet in one of the nicer rooms, one that had a view over a small, overgrown garden. And then, because it was very late and he was not dead, he went to sleep.

The next day he continued his explorations and managed to find the kitchen. It was full with the meat that the villagers brought the dragon once a month, and remembering that the beast had only forbidden him from leaving the lair and going into the tower chamber, Prince Ian helped himself to a piece of pork that he cooked over a small fire.

Hang on, was there a fridge in the kitchen?

No. This was the olden days.

But the villagers came once a month with the meat? How did the dragon keep from rotting?

That’s not really—

Was it dried? Like a Slim Jim?

… sure. It was dried.

As he was eating, Prince Ian heard a sudden scraping noise behind him.

The hell did he cook it over a fire for then, if it was dried?

He looked up and spied another young man standing in the doorway.

I’m just saying, it doesn’t make any fucking sense, man. Wait, is this me?

Prince Ian frowned. “Who are you?” he asked. “Are you a prisoner of the dragon too?”

The boy shrugged. “Uh, yeah. I guess. I mean, I do some work around here. Clean up and shit, in exchange for not getting eaten. Name’s Mikhailo.”

About fucking time. Only, how is it fair that you get to be prince and I’m a fucking cleaner?

Prince Ian tactfully did not mention how the lair was impressively dirty for a place with a fulltime cleaner but invited Mikhailo to share his meal. As they ate, Prince Ian studied his new acquaintance. He was the same age as but shorter than the prince, with skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood, and hair as black as ebony.

Hair as black as— The hell was that?

Nothing.

Yeah, okay, then why are you smiling? Eh, fuck you. Prince Ian’s fucking thirsty for Mikhailo, I get it.

Though his manner was somewhat brusque and uncouth, Prince Ian could not help but feel himself drawn to Mikhailo. The boy was funny and easy to talk to, even if he seemed reluctant to say too much about himself or where he came from. Prince Ian tried asking him about the dragon, but despite apparently having lived there ever since the dragon moved in, Mikhailo couldn’t tell him much.

“Hardly ever even see it, man. At dusk and dawn mostly, so I guess it spends the night flying around with the other dragons, terrorizing the peasants or whatever. During the day it holes up in the tower chamber. Guess dragons must sleep too, huh? Don’t fucking go up there,” he added sternly. “It ain’t fucking kidding about killing you if you do.”

Having found a friend, Prince Ian found that life at the dragon’s lair wasn’t all that bad. He missed his siblings and being outdoors and practicing with the soldiers at the castle, and he resented the loss of his freedom, but he enjoyed the peace and quiet, and enjoyed spending time with Mikhailo. However, one thing he soon grew very tired of was eating nothing but meat. The dragon didn’t seem to require anything else, for it was the only thing the villagers ever delivered, and Mikhailo – whose tasks included receiving the monthly tribute – just gave Prince Ian a weird look when Ian suggested he ask the people to bring some vegetables next month.

“That ain’t the deal they’ve got with the dragon,” he told Ian. “Ain’t nobody gonna listen to me if I go trying to change it.”

Yeah, real Prince Charming there, wanting Mikhailo to risk his life so Ian can stuff his face with fucking cucumber.

Undeterred by Mikhailo’s lack of enthusiasm and courage—

Fuck you.

—Prince Ian decided to take it up with the dragon himself. In the weeks since he arrived at the lair, he hadn’t met the creature again, not even once; he’d just heard the powerful swoosh of its wings when it came and went at dusk and dawn. Now he went up the stairs to the tower chamber and there he waited until night had fallen and he noted the scraping of claws against stone inside the room. Then he knocked at the door.

There was a long silence. Then the door slammed open with enough force to nearly undo it from its hinges.

“What are you doing here?!” the dragon roared, terrible in its fury. “I’ve told you to never come here!”

“You’ve told me to never set foot inside the room,” Ian reasoned, fighting to keep his voice calm. “And I’m not. I just wanted to ask if I may have the use of the small garden just outside the lair. I miss being outdoors and I could grow vegetables for Mikhailo and me.”

Jesus Christ, man, again with gardening? Thought you were over it.

“You may never leave the lair,” the dragon, a garden-hating meanie, snarled, and then he closed the door in Prince Ian’s face.

As he fucking should.

“Probably worried one of the villagers will spot you and, I dunno, mount a rescue,” Mikhailo said shortly the next morning when Prince Ian told him of his failed attempt. “Anyway, you’re a fucking idiot for going up there like that. You get it won’t hesitate to kill you, right?”

“Right,” Ian agreed. “But,” he added with a frown, “why hasn’t it yet?”

“You fucking complaining?” Mikhailo snapped, and then he stalked away, and Ian didn’t see him again for three days.

Listen, you get that I get that Mikhailo is the dragon, right? You’re not fooling anyone, Gallagher.

Then, one day, fed up with the dragon being a really annoying prick, Prince Ian grabbed a huge sword he conveniently found lying around in a cupboard, because the lair was a fucking pigsty, suitable for a pig like the dragon, and he went up the stairs and kicked in the door and he cut the dragon’s throat while it slept, and then he went off and found himself a nice prince to marry.

…

…

That’s not how the story ends.

…

Hey, where are you going? Come back- Jesus, I’m sorry, okay? Gallagher, I’m sorry. Just come back here. Tell me what really happened.

Prince Ian woke with a start on his pallet in the lair. He’d had the most vivid dream about killing the dragon—

A dream? That’s the lamest fucking— Ah, fuck. Sorry.

—but for some reason it hadn’t felt as satisfying as he had thought it would. For all that Prince Ian often fantasized about strangling the beast, it seemed he didn’t actually wish to see it dead. With that disconcerting realization in mind, Prince Ian went to break his fast, resigned to doing so on meat and yet more meat. But in the kitchen he found Mikhailo, and on the table in front of him was a pile of cabbage and carrots and onions. 

“Guess the dragon must have talked to the villagers after all,” Mikhailo muttered, refusing to look at the prince. “And, uh, there was this thing I wanted to show you.”

Without waiting for a response, he spun around on his heel and walked out the door. Curious, Prince Ian followed, through doors and up and down stairs he never knew existed. Eventually, he found himself standing in what appeared to be an inner courtyard. It was small and the walls surrounding it very high, but up above the sky was blue. Prince Ian turned his face towards it and for the first time since he came to live at the dragon’s lair he felt sunlight on his face.

“It’s a shithole,” Mikhailo said. For some reason he sounded a little nervous. “But if you wanna go outside, you can come here. And there’s dirt in those bins, so I guess you could grow stuff in them? Just gotta wear this hat. Anyone sees you, they’ll just think it’s me.”

Privately, Prince Ian wondered who’d ever be able to see him behind walls that high, but he wasn’t going to argue. Wearing an ugly had was a small price to pay for being able to go outside, and to have a garden.

He gave Mikhailo a small smile; Mikhailo smiled back.

“Mikhailo smiled back.” Yeah, you bet he was laughing his ass off, ‘cause he thought Prince Ian was a huge fucking dork.

Things were good for a long while after that. Prince Ian spent his days in the garden and in Mikhailo’s company, and though he still resented being locked away from the world it was easy to ignore that when he had something to do and when his plants started to grow and when he was with Mikhailo. The two young men became closer and closer with each passing week, and soon it seemed to Prince Ian as if they had always known each other. He could no longer imagine a life without his friend.

He suspected that Mikhailo felt the same. It was there in the way he laughed at Prince Ian’s jokes; the way he sought him out to do nothing but talk; the way his gaze sometimes lingered on the prince, the look in his eyes unreadable.

Prince Ian suspected that Mikhailo too wondered what it would be like to press their lips together and hold each other tight. Sleep together; map every inch of each other’s bodies.

Hang on a minute, you’re telling me they haven’t fucked yet? The hell they’ve been doing?

I told you. Hanging out. Talking. Laughing.

Jesus Christ, that’s so fucking gay.

Two men not fucking each other is gay? Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. One day we really need to talk about all your internalized homophobia.

My interna-what? Ah, shut the fuck up. Continue with the story. All these interruptions ain’t doing much for the flow, you know.

Really? I hadn’t noticed.

Prince Ian became determined to find out if Mikhailo felt the same way as he did. He realized that he needed to be careful, however, and not push too hard, lest he spook the other boy. Even though he was almost sure he could see longing in Mikhailo’s eyes, there seemed to be some invisible hand holding him back. Every time Prince Ian was convinced they were finally getting somewhere, Mikhailo would suddenly pull back, as if stung.

Or as if remembering something. Himself, maybe.

Bu then came a cold, clear autumn day almost exactly one year after Prince Ian had been taken to the dragon’s lair.

Whoa, wait, now you’re telling me they’ve been hanging out for one fucking year and they still haven’t banged?

What can I say? Mikhailo’s a pussy.

Whatever. This story is unrealistic as fuck.

Prince Ian and Mikhailo had spent the afternoon together in the garden, as they almost always did whenever Mikhailo wasn’t busy with any of his mysterious chores (which he still refused to tell Prince Ian much about, but which sometimes took him away from the lair for days at a time). Once it started getting dark they went inside and dined on chicken and potatoes from Prince Ian’s patch, and as so often happened they started bickering and play fighting.

If that’s something that happens a lot you might have mentioned it earlier. Established it or whatever. Those mysterious chores too. What’s that all about?

Oh, my bad. Maybe I should start over? Once upon and time—

Nah, man, you’re good. Just a suggestion for next time.

Thank you.

You’re welcome.

They were chasing each other around the kitchen when Mikhailo tripped over the muddy shoes he’d lazily left there the night before and fell to the floor.

You know these meaningful little comments ain’t actually clever, right? They don’t actually add anything to the story.

I like them.

Prince Ian, ever chivalrous, grabbed hold of his friend’s arm to break his fall, but ended up going down with him instead, pinning Mikhailo to the floor with his big, strong body.

Fucking finally.

Their eyes met and Prince Ian felt his heart starting to beat faster. He could see a faint blush spreading over Mikhailo’s face. Neither of them spoke; neither of them moved. Then, slowly, slowly, Prince Ian leaned in to brush his lips over Mikhailo’s. Mikhailo lifted his head to meet him in a kiss to end all other kisses, a kiss to inspire a thousand love songs.

Uh-huh, and then…

And then they went to Prince Ian’s room and had sex all night long. But when Prince Ian woke the next morning—

Wait, wait, what? That’s it? “They had sex all night long.” How about some fucking detail, man?

Fine.

After having great sex using lots of good lube all night long, Prince Ian woke up alone in his bed.

I hate you.

He went in search of Mikhailo but couldn’t find his friend anywhere. He looked in the garden and in the kitchen and he went to the sad little cellar chamber Mikhailo called his room even though Prince Ian had never actually seen him sleep there.

Because he’s the dragon and sleeps in the tower chamber. Great hint, Gallagher. Real subtle.

Fuck off.

A week passed and Prince Ian was starting to suspect that Mikhailo was gone for good this time. Perhaps the dragon had found out about their tryst and had sent him away? Or maybe Mikhailo was disgusted with what had happened and wanted nothing more to do with the prince? Prince Ian wondered and worried and feared, and when finally Mikhailo returned, stepping into the kitchen like nothing had happened, Prince Ian was so exhausted with terror and regret that his relief immediately transformed into fury.

He yelled at Mikhailo, called him names and demanded to know where he’d been. He named him a coward and—

…

Hey, what’s the matter? You okay?

Yeah. Yeah, man, I’m fine.

You don’t look— Listen, Prince Ian’s just being an asshole, okay? He saying a bunch of stupid shit ‘cause he’s sick and tired of not knowing if he means as much to Mikhailo as Mickhailo means to him. He doesn’t mean it.

…

Mick?

I mean… He probably means it a little. He’s not wrong.

No, he’s— Fine. He means it a little right then. But he is wrong, okay? He doesn’t really understand what’s going on with Mikhailo, but he’ll get it later. He’ll know he wasn’t being really fair.

… yeah?

Yeah. Okay?

Okay.

Great. Maybe we should speed this bit up a little—

Once Prince Ian had finished shouting, Mikhailo just stared at him for a long moment.

“You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about,” he spat, and then he spun around and disappeared through the door.

Prince Ian was immediately overcome with regret, yet he was still too angry and hurt and stubborn to run after the other. He went about his day in a very foul mood and when he went to bed that night Mikhailo was still gone. Prince Ian slept fitfully and in the middle of the night he woke to a loud crash, soon followed by several more. He realized it must have come form the tower chamber and after a moment of hesitation he grabbed his nightgown and rushed up the stairs.

So, he brought a nightgown with him when he thought the dragon was going to kill him?

Of course not. He found it in one of the rooms.

Yeah, okay, but why are there so many rooms in this fucking lair anyway? What’s with all the old stuff there? Didn’t the dragon build the place to live in like right before Prince Ian was sent there?

Mickey. It’s getting late and I’d really love to wrap this up and go to bed. It doesn’t really matter about the rooms. Can I just continue with the story?

Whatever, man. Just thought you should know there’s a bunch of plot holes in your little fairy tale.

 Once he reached the door to the forbidden room, the crashing noises had stopped. Instead, Prince Ian heard whimpers and moaning, as if from someone in great pain. It could only be the dragon – something must be wrong with it.

Yeah, ya think, Sherlock?

Prince Ian knocked on the door. There was no reply, other than more whimpers and moans. Steeling himself, he tried the handle. The door was unlocked.

That’s awfully convenient.

Stepping inside, Prince Ian found the dragon on the floor. It was clearly hurt, for there was dark blood pooling underneath it. As Prince Ian entered, the great beast lifted its head but said nothing and made no move to attack him. It seemed it was too badly hurt to pose any threat.

It occurred to Prince Ian that he could kill the dragon. He could go down to the kitchen and fetch the biggest knife there and then he’d be free and he could go back to the castle and his siblings and—

The dragon made a low, pained sound and let its head fall back to the floor, closing its eyes.

Prince Ian went down the stairs, but he didn’t fetch a knife, he fetched bandages instead. Though part of him cursed himself for a fool, he knew he couldn’t bring himself to kill the dragon, monster or not, and couldn’t bring himself to let it bleed to death either.

That’s a huge fucking mistake. Maybe the dragon never hurt him but it still kept him imprisoned. Prince Ian should be getting the hell out of there when he has the chance.

Hmm, yeah. Choosing to be locked up just to be the person you love does sound like a pretty insane thing to do.

Oh, fuck off. That’s totally different.

Sure, Mick.

By the time Prince Ian returned to the tower the dragon had lost consciousness. The prince set to cleaning and bandaging his wounds, having learned the art of it while training with a medical witch who lived at the castle. It took a great long while; the dragon was large and heavy and the cuts in its side long, if shallow. But Prince Ian was nothing if not determined and eventually he had the beast wrapped up.

As Ian moved to rise, the dragon stirred.

“The hell are you doing?” it muttered, blinking up at Ian. Then it spotted the bandages, and the ice blue eyes widened. “What the— Are you fucking insane? This is a... is a… real bad fucking idea… ”

It sounded… strange, and not just from the pain and blood loss, Prince Ian thought. Sounded not just slurred but softer somehow, in spite of the uncharacteristic cursing; sounded almost familiar; sounded like—

“Mikhailo,” Prince Ian whispered.

Ooooh, big surprise! I’m so shocked right now!

You know there are other uses for plot twists than to shock the reader, right? Or actually, I guess you don’t know, but if you picked up a book once in a while—

Yeah, yeah, whatever. What happened after this great and totally unexpected reveal?

The dragon lost consciousness again so Prince Ian went to bed and slept soundly and when he woke the next day he spotted Mikhailo leaning against the wall of his room, looking tired ad unhappy. He was even paler than usually and there was a stiffness to his posture that suggested quite a bit of pain, but other than that he seemed well enough.

“So,” Prince Ian said, trying for casualness as he sat up on his pallet. “You’re a dragon.”

Mikhailo shrugged. “Seems like it.”

“But only by night.”

“Yeah… We turn when the sun sets, and turn back again when it rises.”

“I didn’t know that about dragons.”

“No one around here fucking does. People realize how helpless we are during the day, they’d kill us in a heartbeat. My dad says— “

“Your dad?”

“The leader of the dragons. The really big, white one? This whole terror and extortion thing was his idea, once he realized that no one in this kingdom has a clue about dragons.”

“Oh.”

“He hates humans. Thinks they’re useless and weak. If he knew I kept you around instead of killing you, he’d have murdered us both.”

Jesus fucking Christ, laying it on a bit thick with the metaphysical shit there, don’t ya think?

You mean metaphorical?

I mean it’s fucking stupid, that’s what I mean.

Might be closer to allegory anyway.

Uh-huh. Nobody fucking cares, Shakespeare.

“So, anyway,” Mikhailo continued, “you should probably try to go as far away from here as possible. Find a ship and go across the sea or something.”

Prince Ian blinked. “What?”

“Yeah, man, you won’t be able to go back to your castle. No way to stay hidden there. I know this guy up in Dikno, he might—”

He fell silent as Prince Ian jumped up from the bed and crossed the space between them in two long strides, and then he gasped loudly as the prince’s lips found his.

It was another one to inspire love songs.

“You idiot,” Prince Ian said fondly when eventually they broke apart. “Of course I’m not going anywhere. Unless,” he added, suddenly shy, “you want me to.”

Mikhailo made a face. “No, you fucking moron, I don’t want you to go,” he finally said. “But my dad—”

“We’ll find a way to deal with him. We’ll figure out how to sort it out and set things right between humans and dragons. We’ll find a way, together. Okay?”

And Mikhailo the dragon looked at his prince for a long moment and then he smiled. “Okay.”

At his prince, huh. Surprised you got room for all those big words in your head when your ego’s taking up so much space. All right, then what happened?

They organized a rebellion against the leader of the dragons, I guess. I don’t really know. That’s another story.

What do you mean, another story? Is this it? You spend all that time setting it up but when you get to the good part with the fighting you just stop?

Yeah, it’s getting really late. Kid’s asleep anyway.

Kid’s been out cold since, like, before the dragons even showed up, man, don’t fucking pretend this story was for her. … you really not gonna continue?

Nah, I’ll continue. But for the next scene I figured we might try a little show, don’t tell…

Oh, really? What’s the next scene?

Make-up sex. Prince Ian fucking Mikhailo’s brains out. And hey, spoiler alert: Mikhailo comes four times.

Four times, huh.

Yeah. So… wanna know how it happens?

Okay.

Okay. It starts like this—

---

So, yeah. There we have it. The things we write for Gallavich Week… XD

I am halfway outraged that this is the longest fic I’ve ever written for Gallavich, but I’m rather pleased I managed to write something for this theme! Guess I’ll go to bed both proud and embarrassed and dead tired tonight. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Where I am, we’re half an hour past midnight, but seeing as it’s still Monday somewhere, I have decided that I’m posting on time. Yay me! @gallavichthings

[sorry-but-no-sorry]

@cloudnine99mb your comment made me laughed so

Please enjoy this edited segment script-fic ice age Parody

(Dunno how to put the Read more thing on tablet)

Wrecker and Omega leaned over the edge of the abandoned mining facility, “So, Why do they call it the Chasm of Death?” Asked the demolition expert, not leaving his eyes of the deep crevasse, with a hint of anxiety in his voice.

Tech readjusted his goggles as he took his trusted data pad “Well, the word for word translation is actually ‘big smelly crack’, I’m guessing the locals embellished the name to warn off outsiders..”

“Well now what?” Hunter asked as he pulled Omega away from the edge while looking at their surroundings, he had a bad feeling about this place, it was like his enhanced senses were... muffled.

Tech took a look at the dust covered panel next to a Wrecker still awe. After a quick inspection, he pulled down a lever and a large sliding platform appeared “Omega...?”

He said, gesturing his hand to the smallest member to get on.

“Whoa! She is not doing that!” Hunter objected in an instant

“Brother, I’m hurt that you don’t trust me” he pouted

“I trust you !” Said Omega in a cheery tone as she walked onto the platform with him

“Echo you can push the lever now, I’ll send the platform once I’m on the other side”

“Roger that, Tech” Echo nodded as he executed the command.

Tech kneeled to Omega “as long as you don’t breath in the toxic fumes, you'll probably be fine”

The rest of the batch yelped in unison as the platform started its path “TOXIC FUMES?”

“Our helmets maybe able to withstand what’s outside but here, it’s more concentrated, I thought the warning were obvious !” 

“Wait!” Hunter yelled but it was too late

A moment of silence and then an the empty platform moved back towards the rest of the squad

“Omega? Tech ? You guys okay?” Hunter asked out loud across the void

Omega responded from the other side, almost giggling, “You have to try this!”

“Alright! Now Pile on everyone! Couldn't be easier!” Tech said loudly, joining Omega

the platform shut off and left the second group stranded in the middle of the fumes

“Don't panic! Just some uh technical Difficulties! Keep holding it in !” Tech yelled as he tried to fix the panel on the other side.

Wrecker tried to held it as much as he could but to no avail, he took a deep breath “Aah I cant take it anymore!”

“He breathed it!” Echo yelped before realizing his mistake “now I'm breathing it!”

Both batcher gasped and tried to hold their breath again

Wrecker looked up, in a now squeaky voice “Hey! We're not dead!”

Echo followed in the same pitch  “You sound ridiculous!”

“Me? You should hear you!”

They Both started to laugh hard

Hunter let go of his breath, ready to scold them but accidentally breathed it in himself “are you crazy- wait...Its not poison ?..”

surprised by his voice, he laughed hysterically with Echo & Wrecker

“That is Sooo Disturbing!” Cried Wrecker

Tech felt a panic rise in his stomach as he heard them from the other side “Stop laughing! All of you!”

 “Stop Laughing all of you!” Echo Echoed in a mocking manner

Which made the others laugh even harder

Omega walked toward Tech, puzzled “They are just laughing, what's so bad about that?”

Tech pointed down the void without looking away from the panel “They died laughing”

Omega approached the edge only to see bodied of various races, all with a smile carved into their faces

She gasped and looked at the other side “Stop laughing!” She pleaded

Hunter scratched his visor, trying to shoo away a tear he couldn’t reach, he could even talk in his baravado tone “You know whats funny though? We are trying to save Crosshair, and now we are all gonna die!”

There were a sudden moment of silence before they all bursted out laughing hysterically

The platform hummed back again, and slowly got back on track. The 3 remaining soldiers were on their side, holding their guts. All the laughing made their abdominal muscles ache like hell.

“Sometimes, i wet my bed!” Echo let escape still amazed by the high pitch noise coming from his remaining vocal cords

Wrecker giggled “ that’s alright, sometimes, I wet Tech’s bed !”

Again they All Laughed hysterically, abdominals burning

the platform reached the other side and everyone tumbled out, breathing for air while laughing. Slowly regaining their normal voice

“Uhhh, I'm not sure how much of that you could hear...?” Hunter huffed, visibly embarrassed, trying to quickly get up and set his old bravado attitude. His brain wasn’t fully oxygenated, Causing him to lose his balance and getting a headache as a bonus

“Oh i heard all of it” Omega said chuckling as she tried to help him sit down

Tech kneeled to Wrecker and looked at him dead in the eyes “You wet my bed?”

“That was just gas talk, dude.” Wrecker retorted.

[lovely-jily]

betty

and yet, another taylor swift inspired fic. sorry if you don't understand this, but i've been sitting on it for literally months and am so attached to these characters. please enjoy!

read the lyrics here

read on ao3

Lily, I won't make assumptions about why you switched your homeroom, but I think it's because of me. And I don't necessarily blame you.

Lily, the night I got home I rode my skateboard past your house, and I felt like I couldn't breathe. It was real, you were real again, and the pain I caused you was too real. Everything was too real and most importantly, what I did to you.

I remember when you called me last week before I got home.

"I talked to Inez," you said. I will never forget the feeling of dread, shame, and guilt in my stomach that followed. It hasn't left since that brief one-sentence phone call.

Of course, you heard the rumours from her, Inez can't keep a secret for her life. Inez is the one who caught the other girl and me kissing on the beach, so it was only a matter of time before she called you. I forgot Inez spent her summers by the coast like me and was harshly reminded when she glared down at her and I while she walked by. Usually, you can't believe a word she says most times, but this time it was true. That pains me so much to say.

But, honestly, Lily, I can say with my entire heart that the worst thing that I ever did was what I did to you.

I heard about your party. I've been back a week now and still haven't seen you yet. I know you don't want to see me, but what would you do if I just showed up to explain? Would you have me? Would you want me? Would you tell me to go fuck myself, or would you lead me to the garden?

And if you did lead me to the garden, would you trust me if I told you it was just a summer thing? I'm only seventeen, Lily, and while I don't know anything, I know I miss you.

Lily, I can trace exactly where it all went wrong. It was after you and I decided to take a break for the summer, with me heading to the coast and you staying here. It was at the school dance at the end of school, and your favourite song was playing from the far side of the gym. I was nowhere to be found, you know I hate big crowds. Plus, I saw you dance with him. I'm not proud of it, but jealousy just took over me, even though I knew you two were just friends.

But it doesn't matter. You found out what happened over the summer, and I wish that this time Inez was wrong and you wouldn't believe her. But this time, the rumours were true.

If I could do anything in the world, I would take it back. I hold nothing in my heart but regret and love for you, and I just wish I could explain that to you. I'm simply a dumb, insecure teenager who made the worst mistake of his life. I know that the worst thing that I ever did was what I did to you.

And yet, I just can't help but wonder what would happen if I showed up at your party. I don't know if you'd have or want me, or if you'd just tell me to go fuck myself. But this persistent and annoying piece of hope in my chest wonders if you lead me to the garden.

And if you did take me there so I could explain, which is the only thing I'd ever ask of you right now, would you trust and believe me when I tell you that it was a stupid mistake? It honestly only chalks up to just a stupid summer thing. Lily, I know it's a terrible excuse, but I'm only seventeen, and all I know is that I miss you more than anything in this world.

The day after the dance was when I left for the coast. That first night I was walking home on broken cobblestones, and all I could think about was you. About you dancing with him and not me, about how much I would hate being away from you, about your red hair and beautiful smile. I knew it would be a long summer without you, and I vowed to try to get as little a taste of you as possible.

That's when she pulled up next to me, the human embodiment of my worst intentions.

"Hey, James, get in. Let's drive," she had said. I knew her from my summers here, and she constantly had reminded me of you.

I knew I shouldn't have gotten into her car, but she had red hair like yours, and, I dunno, she seemed the closest thing to you that I could get.

I knew she wasn't even close to you in comparison, but I was sad, and I really missed you.

I'm heartbroken to say that those days turned into nights, and I may have slept next to her, but I dreamt of you all summer long.

So, Lily, that's how I ended up here on your doorstep. I've planned this out for weeks now, but it's finally sinking in. This is the last time I can dream about what happens when you see my face again. And while it isn't how I would prefer it, I'm just excited to finally see you after all this time.

I know that I probably can't, but the only thing I want to do is make it up to you.

So I showed up at your party.

I can't believe I showed up at your party.

But regardless, I showed up at your party, and I can't help but wonder. Will you have me? Will you love me? Will you kiss me on the porch in front of all your stupid friends?

And if you do kiss me, which I know is a long shot (I can't help but hope), will it be just like I dreamed it? Will it remind you of how much I love you so it can heal you? Will it patch your broken wings?

I'm only seventeen, Lily, and I don't know anything. But I know that I miss you.

I miss standing in your cardigan, and I miss kissing in my car again. I think of you every time I'm stopped at a streetlight. You always looked so beautiful in my passenger seat.

You know I miss you.

[sunsetcurvecuddles]

Hello you told me not to hold back so I’m gonna be ANNOYING feel free to ignore indefinitely until you’re feeling it but I’m gonna send you like a bunch of prompts cause I can’t sleep and am stalling finishing my own fic.

First one: Bobby (obviously), Reggie or Luke or friends I don’t even care, tea and blankets

lol hi have a rebuke cuddle-puddle disaster, also available on ao3 here. warning for swearing and very vague allusions to physical child abuse.

i guess we belong to each other | reggielukebobby | 1.8k words

--

Luke has his guitar in his lap and his writing notebook by his side even though it's late at night. He's playing his acoustic, so that he has no chance of stirring Bobby's parents from where he's sat in their studio, and though he'd never admit it to anyone, it's cold enough that he's found one of Alex's hoodies in the back of the studio, a black one Alex never wears any more, and he's bundled up in it to try to fight off the chills. He regrets storming out earlier this evening — not because his parents might be worried, he's still too mad at them for that, but because he misses his own warm bed in a house with central heating.

But it's late, and he doesn't want to bother Bobby, who's already been generous enough as it is (and is exceptionally grumpy when he's woken in the middle of the night). So Alex's old hoodie, smelling vaguely of the dusty studio and distantly of Alex, will have to do.

A noise distracts Luke from his writing. Something outside the studio, maybe an animal, but it sounded like footsteps. Cautiously, he draws his guitar closer, running through what he could say if it's Bobby's parents, his heart suddenly rabbit-fast in his chest.

A head pokes through the door.

Luke's shoulders drop with relief.

It's Reggie.

He looks a little scruffy, not like himself, because usually Reggie pays such close attention to his appearance, fusses over his hair and colour-codes his outfits and shaves with the precision of a professional painter. But he kinda looks messy, which makes Luke's stomach feel even colder than the air around him.

“Oh! Hey, man,” Reggie laughs, putting on a big smile, and it'd fool anyone else — Reggie's too experienced at this for his own good. “I didn't know you'd be here!”

“Hi, Reg,” says Luke, sounding a little distracted even to his own ears as he carefully looks Reggie over. He's not walking like he's been hurt, and there are no visible injuries. So that's something. Jesus, Luke wouldn't know what to do if Reggie turned up here with a fresh version of the bruises Luke sometimes catches him trying to hide. “You, uh — you good?”

“Yeah, for sure,” Reggie agrees easily, saunters into the studio and slumps down on the couch next to Luke. The relaxed way he moves soothes Luke's worry somewhat. “The house was just — ugh. You know how they can be.” Looking over at Luke, Reggie adds, “Hey, isn't that Alex's hoodie? I was wondering what had happened to that.”

“Hey!” Luke sputters, a little defensive. “He didn't, like, loan it to me or anything, it was just here! I found it.”

“It is cold,” Reggie concedes, pulling his flannel a little tighter around him. “Wish I'd brought my jacket, but it was in the kitchen and I didn't wanna. I dunno. Didn't wanna get in the way.”

Luke nods, puts his guitar to the side so he can press up against Reggie's side. Hip to hip, his cheek on Reggie's shoulder, links their ankles together and puts an arm over Reggie's stomach. Almost automatically, Reggie links his arms around Luke in turn.

Honestly, Luke was intending to steal some of Reggie's body heat, but after Reggie's walk outside and in such a thin layer, he thinks Reggie's probably leeching his own. Luke lets him go ahead; Reggie seems to need it more than he does.

They sit for a moment, both unusually quiet, huddling and not talking. Not so much for a lack of things to talk about, but more because any topic that comes to Luke's mind feels insurmountably complex and emotional. There’s so much stuff he can't tell Reggie — so much stuff Reggie isn't telling him. So they sit together and try to create some warmth without the need for disclosure.

Until there's another set of scuffled footsteps outside.

“Not Alex too,” Reggie sighs, at a whispered volume so that the newcomer can't hear him, “he squirms so much in his sleep, man, I can't share this pull-out with him again.”

Luke muffles a laugh with the back of his hand, but he can't help worry it's Alex, too. Things have been... okay, he thinks, with Alex's folks since he came out, but he also knows Alex hoped for better. Suspects there are things Alex isn't telling them (so they all have that in common).

But it's not Alex. Preceded by an armful of blankets that he's almost tripping on, Bobby staggers in, still in his pajamas and with his eyes almost all the way closed. “Luke? It's fucking freezing, I thought I'd—” He stops when he gets far enough in to see Reggie on the couch too. “Oh, shit.”

“Hey, Bobby,” says Reggie, voice a little nervous. “I hope it's okay that I—”

“Shut up,” Bobby grumbles, and dumps the whole pile of blankets on top of Reggie. “You guys are stupid. You're both out here, in the freezing cold, and neither of you come wake me up?”

“We didn't want—” Luke starts, at the same time as Reggie insists, “You were sleeping—!”

“Idiots,” Bobby growls, rubbing his eye with his sweater paw and yawning. He looks stupidly cute, like a little kid. “You're idiots, and I hate dealing with you. I'll be back.” Turning to leave the studio again, he turns back and adds, “Hurry up and burrito yourselves in those blankets, I swear to god. And Luke, isn’t that Alex’s hoodie?”

“He left it—!” Luke starts, but Bobby’s already gone, leaving Luke with Reggie, cackling at him.

—

By the time Bobby returns, Luke and Reggie have folded the couch out into its bed form, and are snuggling under the several blankets, giggling together as they talk about how grumpy Bobby had been.

“We should have woken him up,” Reggie snorts, “I think then he would have been less pissed.”

“I would have,” Bobby agrees, sounding somewhere between menacing and amused, as he reappears over them. His hair is all shaggy in his face. He's carrying a teapot. And cups. “Sit up.”

Luke does right away, Reggie pulling himself up a little slower. Bobby sits cross-legged at the foot of the couch-bed, tucking his socked toes under his own legs to keep warm, and pours them each a mug of what smells like peppermint tea. Suddenly, Luke can't imagine anything better in the world. When Bobby offers him a cup, he takes it eagerly, wrapping his cold hands around it and enjoying the steam wafting up to his face.

“Wow,” says Reggie softly, eyes wide, “thanks, Bobby.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Luke echoes, letting out a sigh as he takes his first sip.

“Forget it,” Bobby says, a little bitey. Luke knows it's because Bobby hates being seen as nice, so he doesn't take it personally, and he knows Reggie won't either. He has his own cup, which he drinks as though it's done something to offend him, scowling off into the corner of the studio. Reggie nudges Bobby with his foot from under the layers of blankets, and a tiny smile tugs at Bobby's mouth as he nudges Reggie back with his elbow.

After the cup of tea, Luke feels better. He feels warmer on the inside, now, and sleepy too. Reggie is starting to get that dopey, slow blink that shows he's on the verge of sleep as well. Bobby clears his throat and holds out a hand, beckoning for their empty cups. Luke and Reggie hand them over.

“Okay,” says Bobby, after a pause. “G'night, guys.” He goes to stand, but Reggie leans forward and catches Bobby's sleeve.

“Would you stay?” he asks, as if he can't help himself, as if on sheer impulse, but he doesn’t look embarrassed afterwards.

“Reg!” Luke says, a little startled. “It's cold out here, he won't want—”

But he sees Bobby's face, and he stops himself. Because he can see it in Bobby's eyes. That he does want. He’s Bobby, so he won't say it, his mouth pressed into a thin line, his gaze fixed on some point behind Luke and Reggie's heads, but Luke has known Bobby for too long to miss something this obvious, no matter what else Bobby can hide from him.

“That being said,” Luke backtracks hurriedly, “it would be warmer with you here, Wilson. I'm happy to be a leech.”

“That's all I'm good for, huh?” Bobby snorts, but he's already setting the mugs down on the floor near the side of the bed, already shuffling the teapot down there too. He hops up for a moment, and Luke wonders where he’s going, before he realises Bobby is just switching off the light. When Bobby comes back, he pauses, like he's not sure where he fits, and Luke and Reggie make eye contact for only a second before they move apart, leaving a space in the middle.

Bobby looks even less sure of himself, eyebrows knitted, jaw tight. His hands flex and one of them twists in the hem of his sweater. Luke gets it. It looks too much like it's on Bobby's behalf, like they’re doing it to make space for Bobby. Bobby’s always had trouble accepting anything that seems like it’s for his own benefit.

“I already sucked all Reggie's warmth up,” Luke explains.

“Yeah,” Reggie agrees immediately, and Luke loves him, “and you're warmer than Luke anyway, man. I wanna huddle with you. As a penguin, you would be my first-choice huddle-buddy.”

Bobby barks a laugh. “The fuck? What does that even mean?” Finally, he wriggles his way under the blankets in between them, and rolls his eyes when they both throw limbs over him right away, twining legs and arms together and resting cheeks on his chest.

“Like, if we were penguins. You know? In the winter?” Reggie says, like this is totally obvious and self-explanatory. “If I was a penguin, I'd be looking for the Bobby-penguin in the winter huddle to stick close to.”

“Aaand I'm at my capacity for dumb shit,” Bobby says, closing his eyes pointedly, but it's a scam, because his hands come to run through Luke and Reggie's hair. “Goodnight, morons.”

“Goodnight, Bobby,” they chorus. This close, Luke could almost brush noses with Reggie, has to try to focus his eyes to keep Reggie from getting blurry. Reggie sticks his tongue out at Luke just a little, and Luke grins back, links his fingers with Reggie’s over Bobby’s stomach, rubbing over Reggie’s knuckles until Reggie’s fingers don’t feel so much like icicles. When Luke uses his free hand to tug the neckline of Alex’s hoodie up over his nose, the familiar smell of the third piece of his heart soothes him right down.

The feel of Bobby’s fingernails on his scalp makes Luke’s eyelids flutter, and before he knows it he’s dopey, the world feeling blurrier and safer and cozier. Honestly, more like home than his own house would have. He no longer daydreams of returning to his own warm bed. Instead, he feels the way Bobby’s chest rises and falls with his breaths, pushing his and Reggie’s joined hands up and down. If he listens closely, Luke can hear Bobby’s heartbeat, familiar and steady.

Maybe the cold isn't all bad.

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other prompt fills here :)

jatp taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @queenmolina @nickalicious @bi-reginald @malecacidd @burntchromas @jughead-is-canonically-aroace @cinnamonstickrayofsunlight @chickwiththepurpleguitar @fairylightsandrainydays @joyandthephantoms @fighttoshine @michelangelinda @queenofthequillandink