#i mention it here bc all my fics before were mmm and i know i had a few people wanting to keep on my mmm stuff

[yeba]

I orphaned all my stories and it feels so weird and empty now 😔

[cheolhub]

YOU GET ME SO HIGH — VERNON CHWE ࿐

summary. smoking with your best friend (who you totally don’t have a crush on) is super fun till all you can think about is him… well, doing him, to be more specific.

wc. 6.2k

warnings. recreational marijuana use!!, dubcon (kinda? sex while high), bf2l + idiots to lovers, kinda fluffy!! weed is referred to as ‘green crack’ several times lol, fingering, hehe big d!ck!vernon, mentions of masturbation, unprotected sex, pet names (baby), brief tit worship, naked confessions, vernon is kinda shy, jealous, nervous & rlly likes boobs and reader is v needy lol <3— MINORS DNI 18+

note. havent seen anyone write for vernon in like 3 years so here’s my lowkey cringey, poorly-written, self-indulgent fic that i was supposed to post for his birthday 2 months ago ++ guest appearance from weed dealer!cheol bc yeah :3

if you had told vernon that his best friend was someone he’d met in a biology lab–one that he was accidentally put into his freshmen year– he’d say you were a liar. nonetheless, it’s true– you’re his best friend and you have been for years now. in your fourth and final year of university, you still sit on the balcony of your apartment with him like you have every other day for the past three.

“happy birthday, vernon,” you smile cheekily, passing him a snack-size ziplock baggie. “i got you an eighth since you’re always begging to smoke my shit.” 

he laughs and gives you a lazy smile, “Y/N, my birthday was over two months ago… plus, you know you didn’t have to get me anything.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes, “hansol vernon chwe, you are my best friend, of course i had to. and… i was waiting for a few of my checks to hit, that's why it’s a belated birthday gift.” you take his hand, placing the bag into it. “now take it and don’t smoke it all in a day, got it?”

he nods, eyes softening, “thank you,” he says. “must’ve cost your broke ass a fortune, though, so next time– don’t get me anything.”

you giggle at the joke that’s actually, not really a joke. “i really don’t think you have any room to speak– who here has a real job?” 

he rolls his eyes, “my job is real, thank you very much.”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “reselling limited edition vinyls for seven times what you bought them for isn’t a job, vernon, that’s called being a dick.” you tell him. “and actually, the prices weren’t too bad. cheol gave me a discount.”

vernon almost visibly clenches at the name of your awfully-sweet dealer. though he can attest, cheol is only ever sweet to you. every time he’s bought from your favorite supplier, he’s been a total asshole and upcharges him for no reason which is one of the basis’ why he’s always smoking your stuff. you always tell him it’s karma for selling records at such a high price, but vernon begs to differ. he knows that cheol just doesn’t like him and he has a gut feeling that it’s because of you. 

“oh yeah? how’d you get him to do that?” he asks, but he’s pretty sure he knows the answer. the answer being cheol has a thing for you.

you bite your lip, looking over your apartment balcony. “mmm, he showed up here while i was… you know…playing around…and…”

vernon knows you well enough to finish your sentence for you. “masturbating?”

“vernon, be modest!” you whine, hiding your face in your hands. “you knew, you didn’t have to say it!” 

he chuckles, “it’s normal, Y/N, we all do it. no need to be embarrassed over it.”

it’s true. everyone does it. but not everyone masturbates thinking about their best friend. he thinks that might just be him. 

“yeah, but you’ve probably never done it thinking you’d be finished before your hot drug dealer shows up at your apartment.” you blush. vernon doesn’t say anything for a while and you’re afraid you’ve made him feel uncomfortable (even though he claims you never have). you bite the insides of your cheeks before uttering, “can you pack a joint or something?”

truthfully, vernon doesn’t mean to be so quiet. he’s just trying to imagine you in that state without letting his dick get hard, though it’s proving to be extremely difficult. you probably looked so pretty in cute short shorts and a shirt that you could see your nipples through. or worse, you were wearing a tank top that was snuggly wrapped around your torso where you could see everything. he wants to be a gentleman, wants to be respectful… but, god, your tits are out of this world.

he hums trying to rid the dirty images in his head, taking your box of goods to grab the grinder and paper cones. “finish your story.” he urges.

you look at him, searching for signs of discomfort, but there is only that stoic look he always wore. with a sigh, you continue, “anyway, i was… you know… and he texted me and said he was here– i was a mess–”

he can imagine.

“–and i think he could tell ‘cuz when i got down to his car i was so disheveled and was about to start crying. i literally looked like i got edged or something,” you mumble, twiddling your thumbs out of embarrassment.

you’re painting a picture for vernon and he has to bite back a groan. 

it’s not the first time you and vernon had talked about sexual things. there had been several conversations on the topic. he knew almost everything about you except for… you know… what you tasted like and how tight you are– his vivid imagination couldn’t give him all of those pleasures. 

“and, vernon, i kid you not, he literally knew. he was all smug and shit,” you groan. “it was kinda humiliating.”

you remember how much wetter you’d gotten the moment you slipped into his car. he was calling you all types of things– all types of pretty pet names–and you’re genuinely surprised it didn’t escalate further because the sexual tension was heavy.

“and then i told him i wanted a quarter– an eighth for me and an eighth for you– and he told me he’d give me a special strain of sativa for half the normal price.”

vernon’s eyes widened, “half the price?”

“that’s what i said!” you exclaim. “pretty sure it’s because he could see my tits… i wasn’t wearing the best outfit …”

of-fucking-course he could see your tits. vernon holds back a groan, seeing as his suspicions about you in a tank top that night was right. instead, he chuckles airly. “now who needs to be modest.”

“stooop, just grind the weed.” you cry. 

vernon does as you ask, muttering, “maybe he laced it.”

“cheol wouldn’t, i’m pretty sure he just likes me.” you humbly reply, shooting daggers at your best friend for even suggesting that. “plus the strain was called ‘green crack’ or something like that… it was from the ‘st. patty’s day special.’”

“saint patrick’s day was like 4 weeks ago.”

“well then he was either trying to get rid of it or my tits must’ve made him feel generous.” you joke, giggling a bit at vernon’s poker face.

vernon is hiding it really well, but he’s filled with so much annoyance. your stupid dealer doesn’t deserve to see you like that. hell, vernon doesn’t even think he deserves to see you like that, but, fuck, he wants to. so badly. seeing you all hot and bothered with your tits on full display would be a dream come true. 

“would you fuck him for free weed?” he asks all of a sudden, making you blush furiously. he knows now that he doesn’t want to hear your answer when your mouth parts in shock. 

“vernon! what kinda girl do you take me for?” you put your hand over your chest as if it’s something you wouldn’t do. you break your facade when he gives you a knowing look, mouth cracking into a grin. “probably, i dunno. he’s kinda scary but i feel like he knows how to please a woman– i can’t say the same about a lot of other men.”

he internally rolls his eyes. cheol doesn’t know you the way he does. vernon could please you, he knows he can. 

he switches the subject back to the packed joint in his hands to keep from spiraling. “wanna spark it?”

you shake your head with a hum, “mmh-mmh, belated birthday boy gets the first few hits.”

he smiles, pulling the joint to his lips taking the lighter, igniting it with the pressure of his thumb. he lets the flame burn carefully through the paper, inhaling a large rush of smoke. he holds it in for a bit before he blows it out– away from your face– creating a white, potent-smelling cloud.

you reminisce while watching him. your balcony is like home to you and vernon. contrary to your neighbor's beliefs, smoking isn’t the only thing you do. you laugh and cry and talk for hours about people you hate and people you love. sometimes, you’ll do homework out here and when vernon is bored at his own place, he’ll come over to yours to keep you company. he provides a comforting presence and never-ending encouragement while reminding you to take breaks.

 it’s where you told him about your puppy crush on soonyoung from your statistics class and it’s where he told you about how he awkwardly lost his virginity to a girl during orientation week. it’s where the two of you are always together– it’s kinda like your place.

and watching him after all these years, you’ve never really realized how attractive your best friend was. well, that’s a lie. you’ve always thought vernon was likely one of the prettiest men to ever walk the earth, but if you truly admitted that, then you’d have to admit to the other things. things like how kind and considerate he is and how he’s boyfriend potential and how you totally don’t have any type of feelings for him whatsoever. it’s not a crush, you constantly have to remind yourself, it’s admiration for your best friend. there’s a difference.

but those admirable traits are things you can’t think about because he doesn’t see you that way. there’s no reason why you should see him that way if it’s not reciprocated. it only makes sense and prevents brutal rejection from the most perfect man on earth, aka your best friend. 

but your not-crush manifests itself sometimes. like when he smiles at you or when he randomly places his headphones over your head and tells you to “listen to this song” or when he spends the night in your bed because he’s too lazy to drive home. it gets harder and harder to hide every day. 

he passes the joint to you with an even lazier grin and you take it, parroting his actions. you let the smoke fill your lungs, hold it there, and exhale, shutting your eyes just as he did. 

and vernon thinks you look like a goddess. how could you make a simple action seem so attractive?

you take your hits, passing the joint back and forth till it suddenly hits you. all at once, you feel your body start to ache, your tummy flipping in anticipation, your mind fogging over leaving your entirety to buzz. you shift a bit and you feel your cunt dampen causing you to let out a sharp exhale.

“you good?” vernon asks, his deep voice filling your ears.

then you look at him. like… actually look at him. his face is a bit tired, his eyes red from the weed coursing his system, and his hair a bit disheveled from running his hand through it too much (this is why he wears the beanies)-- nevertheless, he looks fucking fantastic. 

your usual munchies are replaced with strong, burning sexual desire. just at the sight of your best friend, your pussy is soaking through your panties and your shorts.

“‘sol,” you murmur out the nickname. “do you feel… different?” you ask, eyes fluttering and lips parting.

you’re truly unaware of how seductive you look and how it’s slowly taking years off his life. vernon has been rock hard in his sweats for a solid 15 minutes now. and, yes, he feels extremely different. turned on to say the very least. 

“mmm, a little,” more like a lot. “maybe it’s the strain you got,” he mumbles, implying what he had said earlier was true.

it makes sense that cheol provided you with a strain that feels like you’re smoking a fucking aphrodisiac, but you’re starting to wish you were alone so you could at least do something about it. 

for a split second, you think you might be fine, then you’re hit with yet another wave of arousal, your core pulsing at the ideas that are incessantly popping into your head. ideas of him taking you right now, sitting on his face, sinking onto his cock– it’s too much. 

“vernon,” you say breathily and he freezes, pulling the joint away from his lips. “i… i think…”

you try to think about how to kick him out kindly so you can have some much-needed alone time, but you can’t– you can only think about having alone time with him. alone time that leads to shoving his hand down your pants. 

stop, you tell your hazy brain.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asks, scooting closer to you. 

his scent floods your senses– a mix of weed and his cologne causing sensory overload in your poor brain and aching core. 

he’s internally worried that you’re greening out. though it doesn’t happen as much as it did when you first started smoking, there are rare occasions when you take more than you can handle. 

“c-can… you do me a favor?”

“‘course, anything.”

“vernon… it… i…need your help.” you whimper, leaning into him. “please…feels like ‘m gonna die.”

you’re being dramatic. 

he furrows his brows in confusion, panic becoming apparent on his features. “what hurts, Y/N? how can i help you?”

you take his hand in yours, slowly guiding him to the ache in your body. you gasp when his warm fingers come in contact with your clothed cunt. “here… it hurts here.” you exhale.

vernon has definitely lost it. his hand is between your thighs and your smaller one has moved to tightly wrap around his wrist. you’re a mess– he can feel it. he can feel the warmth radiating from your core, he can feel how you’ve soaked through your panties and how it’s seeped through the thin pair of shorts. he’s holding his breath and he fears he may pass out before getting a chance to touch you like you deserve. 

“y-you’re not in your right mind, Y/N,” he whispers, afraid his voice may betray him. “you smoked too–”

“uh-uh, it’s okay– vernon, it’s okay, i want you… please,” you whimper, grip around his wrist tightening as you buck your hips slightly for more friction. 

you want him. you… want him. 

“but–”

you’re growing frustrated, “if you won’t… then i-i think you should go ‘cuz i need… i need to be alone.”

vernon takes this as an implication that you need to fuck yourself if he won’t fuck you and he’ll be damned if he’s not the one making you see stars. 

so, he asks one more time, “Y/N… are you sure?”

“yes… yes, ‘m sure. ‘m so sure, please, ‘sol,” you beg, using the nickname that makes him fold every time. 

he doesn’t hold back, putting out the joint in his hand and leaving it in the ashtray. his now-free hand cups your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. you moan, eagerly allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth as your hands needily fist at his shirt. 

despite having smoked, vernon’s lips are soft. softer than the lips of men you’ve kissed before. and he still tastes good even with the pungent lemony flavor lingering on his tongue– overwhelmingly good. it seems that he’s just as eager and turned on as you are, too, nearly devouring you whole. you can’t help but fall in love with the heated, now-sloppy kiss.

and vernon truly feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. he’s not sure if this is even real or if the weed has him hallucinating… it wouldn’t be the first time, but you biting down on his bottom lip has him coming back to earth and lets him know that you’re real. that you are very much real and very much grinding on his fingers desperately. 

“vernon,” you pant, pulling him closer by the shirt in your grip. “please, more— feels good, but i need more.” your hazy eyes look into his and you see how they’ve darkened.

“fuck, Y/N,” he groans and his voice has you clenching around nothing. “we need to go inside…”

you’re both sure that this might ruin your relationship, but you decide it’ll be a problem for tomorrow. right now, all either of you can think about is getting off on each other. 

that’s why you’re quick to stand on your feet, holding out your hand for him to take. when he stands, grunting, you pull him into your apartment and leave all of your goods on the balcony without a second thought. 

you drag him to your room before attacking him with another kiss and pulling at the ends of his shirt. you’re a bit disoriented, swaying and stumbling over your steps, but when your legs hit the bed and you nearly fall, vernon’s quick to catch you by the waist. 

“careful,” he murmurs, gently laying you on the plush mattress. you scoot to the head of the bed, laying on your back as you wait for him. 

he takes your expectant face as a sign to remove his clothing and he does so quickly, knowing how impatient you are at this very moment. his shirt comes off and then his sweats, leaving him in boxers where his bulge becomes… apparent.

you have to hold your breath at the dizzying sight of his naked torso and the massive tent in his underwear.

you make grabby hands at him, urging him to come take care of you on the bed. he obliges, getting on your bed, hovering over you while his own head spins. he’s truly unsure if this is actually his real life or if he’s having a dream sent from the gods above. 

he decides not to wait any longer, taking control of the situation by placing his lips on your heated neck. his lips trail down, leaving sloppy, wet kisses on your skin, reveling in how you desperately whimper for him though he’s barely doing anything. 

his hands reach for the hem of your loose top– one that might actually be his– pushing it up and tugging it over your head and arms, leaving your chest bare before him. he groans before diving to your tits, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, sucking and tugging at the bud hungrily. 

you gasp at the sight. you’ve never seen vernon so eager to do anything in the time you’ve known him and now he’s making out with your tits as if it were his last day on earth. 

that’s hot, you think to yourself. so hot– you’re so fucking hot right now.

you can’t see it, but you feel his hand come down to your sleep shorts, digging in past the elastic band of both the satin fabric and your cotton undies. his fingers dip into your lips, running them through your soaked folds. 

“you’re so wet.” he hisses. 

you whine at the contact, apologizing softly, “‘m sorry– can’t help it.” 

his fingers find your hole, circling it before easing two of them inside. “don’t apologize, baby. it’s really hot.” he whispers, the pet name slipping past his lips without completely registering. 

you clench and moan at the domestic name. “fuck, ‘sol,” you whimper. “a-again… call me that again…”

his face burns, whispering out, “you like when i call you ‘baby?’” 

knowing vernon, it was meant to sound like a genuine question, but being in the state you’re in, it sounds so seductive… so enticing that it has your back arching. you nod your head, an even darker blush falling over your already-red cheeks. 

you let out a clipped, “yes.” and he just moans, thrusting his fingers in and out faster, digits stretching your tight, gummy walls out to prepare you for his cock. 

he wonders how you could be so tight because, holy fuck, you’re squeezing around his fingers like you’re trying to trap them in there. 

you whine softly, “vernon, please give me more…”

he definitely just fucking died. 

his cock twitches uncontrollably in his boxers, begging to be set free, but he decides to give you another finger instead. vernon knows he’s… a bit on the bigger side, and judging by how you feel right now, there’s absolutely no way he’ll easily fit inside of you. the last thing he wants to do is hurt you. 

so he slowly pulls his hand out of your shorts and helps you out of them. he throws them to the side and has you spread open. he huffs at the sight before taking three of his fingers back to your hole. he pushes them in gently, groaning at the tighter fit. your moans are bouncing off the walls and vernon looks up to see your mouth hung open with your head thrown back against your pillow. 

he checks on you, throat dry at the sound, sight, and feeling of you. “i-is… are you doing okay?” and when you just whine, he bites the inside of his cheek anxiously. he remembers your fondness for the pet names from a few minutes prior, so he tries again. “baby… does it feel good?”

and he’s not sure what to expect, but when your body jolts and your hand's fist at the sheets, you get even tighter, clenching around his fingers desperately. you really do have an affinity for being called ‘baby.’ 

your brain is jumbled, intoxicated from the weed and his fat fingers stretching your cunt open. “‘m okay… f-feels so good.” you tell him breathily with a whine bubbling in the back of your throat at the feeling of his fingers pushing further into you. “fuck, vernon– it’s so good.”

and it’s true, you don’t think you’ve ever experienced pleasure this intense before, but you remember your senses are heightened by 10 because of the drug. that ‘green crack’ is insane.

he moans at the confirmation, curling his fingers up and fucking your messy cunt, the palm of his hand bumping against your clit with every thrust. he feels a rush of your honeyed arousal soaking his fingers and he swears he might cum before he can even get his cock in you. 

you gasp loudly when you feel his pace quicken, eyes squeezing shut. an array of mewls and high-pitched whines shamelessly slip past your lips. “oh! fuck, i’m close, i’m so close, vernon.” you warn, wet walls clamping around his curled fingers.

he exhales sharply, voice low when he urges you, “cum for me, baby.”

his voice and harsh thrusts are more than enough to throw you over the edge, stomach knots unraveling. you gush all over his big fingers, pussy pulsing as it’s doing its best to push his digits out, but he continues his ministrations to work you through your blinding orgasm.

feeling you cum may have been the best thing life has offered him. 

“fuck, that’s it– are you okay? did that feel good?” he asks breathily, pulling out his fingers, a string of arousal connected to your hole following them out. he bites his lip at the sight, keeping a moan bottled up. he wants to taste you so bad… and the cum on his fingers taunt him. 

you nod your head, still panting, “w-was so good, y-you’re really good… don’t usually cum that fast…”

“really?”

you shake your head, “t-told you that guys don’t really know what they’re doing most of the time.”

he shakes his head in disapproval, “well… you deserve the best.” 

“... like you?” your heart races and the weed from earlier still lingers like a cloud over your brain. you look at him, the soft light from the moon illuminating his flawless skin. your eyes trail down his torso, eyes landing on the big bulge in his boxers again. 

he chokes, masking the sound with a nervous chuckle, “me? i-i’m not…no.” your eyes widen, realizing you’ve completely misread him, feeling panic flood your body. you quickly shut your legs, arms coming to cover your bare chest. 

he’s quick to notice that you’re starting to spiral, though, so he re-registers what you said and then what he said and his eyes widen, too. his words come out rushed as he attempts to do damage control. “no! not no, as in i don’t see you in that way, but no because you deserve the best and…”

“but… you are the best, ‘sol…” you tell him softly, hugging yourself tighter. “and before you say anything, the weed is wearing off– think you finger-fucked it out of me,” you joke to lighten the mood, but when you see he’s still frozen, you internally cringe at yourself, continuing. “i’m being serious. i’m in my right mind and i’m telling you that you’re the best because you are. you always have been.”

he shudders nervously, “Y/N… don’t.”

you frown at him, turning your head away to look at your window instead, mentally face-palming yourself. “did i make it awkward again?” you ask nervously. you don’t even wait for his response, continuing your anxious ramble. “can you just forget i said anything? and that i made you do this? i…i don’t wanna lose you– i never want to lose you.” you whisper. “you’re my best friend.”

he shakes his head incessantly as if he’s trying to tell you something with the simple action, but you aren’t even looking at him, so he takes a deep, shaky breath. “no, you didn’t make me do anything. i just mean don’t say things like that if you don’t really like me because i…” he trails off and you turn back to look at him, concerned by his sudden halt. “Y/N, i… like you. so much. i have for forever now, but you were always talking about soonyoung or cheol and then there was that whole thing with that pretentious art kid– minghao, i think– i dunno.”

what!?

you look at him incredulously, eyes wide and lips parted in genuine shock, “why didn’t you tell me…?”

he sighed, hands coming to rest on your thighs. “it seemed like i never really had a chance… you’re my best friend, too… and i didn’t want to lose you either.”

you sit up, exclaiming, “but you’ve liked me this entire time and i didn’t even know?!”

he gives you a small grin and a shrug, “what can i say? i’m discreet.”

you scoff, sitting in silence for a few seconds before opening your mouth again. with your voice meek, you say.“i wish you would’ve told me.” you inhale sharply, continuing to hug yourself tightly. “i like you, too, you know… i just didn’t think you liked me back so i tried to not like you– which is really hard, by the way, because you’re annoyingly pretty.”

“sorry, i’ll try to stop being so pretty.”

you playfully slap his bare chest, “i actually hate you so much.”

he jokingly sulks, placing a hand over where you hit him. “aw, baby, you just said you liked me.”

you shudder, body naturally leaning into him as your mind gravitates back to your not-so-innocent thoughts. “i do… and i’d like you a little more if you kept calling me that.”

his breath hitches as you get closer and closer, “yeah?”

“mhm…”

he whispers against your lips, a cheeky smile on his, “you’re such a baby.”

“you’re so mean,” you hum, letting your lips graze his. “am i not your baby?”

he rests his forehead against yours and looks into your eyes for any sign of playfulness. you seem to be serious so he asks, “is that what you want?” he’s nervous you can hear the way his heart is about to pound out of his chest. 

“duh… idiot.”

“okay, cool.” he says nonchalantly even though he’s internally freaking out. “you’re my baby.”

your heart skips a beat and your cunt dampens again at the title, “okay, cool.” you parrot casually as if your heart wasn’t about to lurch out of your chest. “you can… kiss me. if you want…”

vernon utters a soft ‘right’ before finally closing the gap between the two of you. his lips mold to yours and you know for a fact that there is no one else on earth you’d want to kiss. his big hand comes to cup your cheek and you melt under the touch, mouth opening for him to slip his tongue into. 

naturally, the kiss heats up and before long, you’re whining into his mouth, hand blindly reaching for his clothed cock. he groans the second you find the aching hard-on, nimble hands stroking him through his boxers. 

“Y/N,” he pants breathily in between kisses. “are you… sure you wanna… do this?”

you think it’s sweet that he keeps checking on you, and sure, you’re still a bit fuzzy from the after-effects of the ‘green crack’, but you need him to give you what you want. so you nod, breaking from the kiss to lay back in your original position under him. 

“please fuck me, baby,” you beg in the most sultry voice you can conjure up. when he stays frozen, you pout. “hansol, please.”

he curses, quickly getting his boxers off and revealing the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen. precum beads at the slit of his flushed tip and prominent veins run through the length. he’s so big, surely enough to have you see stars. you’re starting to feel grateful that he prepped you because his dick would have completely ruined you without it.

“‘s big.” you simply state, bottom lip finding sanctum in between your teeth as you gawk at it. 

“you think so?” he gives you a wobbly smile, stomach-churning at the subtle praise. he moves in between your thighs and spreads you out for him. “is it okay?”

you blush, nodding your head, “mhm, don’t worry,” you tell him. “i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.” 

he nods, huffing softly, “do you have any condoms?”

you chuckle breathily. “not for your size… but it’s okay, i’m clean and safe. you don’t need one. you can pull out if it makes you feel better.”

his throat runs dry– fuck, fuck, fuck. he’s fucking you raw?! how the hell is he supposed to last hitting it raw?! you were already tight around three of his fingers and he can’t even imagine how you’d feel wrapped around his cock.

he realizes he hasn’t replied in a few seconds when you say his name softly. he sees you growing restless under him and he apologizes and nods again dumbly. 

he runs his tip through your folds, moaning when he finds you’re just as wet as you were earlier. he aligns himself with your leaky hole, slowly pushing himself inside of you with a groan to find that you’re still so fucking tight.

you’ve found that, despite vernon’s laid-back and chill personality, he’s quite loud in bed. he’s nothing like you expected and you’re pleasantly surprised. 

when his cock slides in between your tight walls, the both of you are instantly a mess, panting and moaning in pleasure. your walls envelop him so snugly that you fear the thick veins that adorn his length will imprint into them.

“fuck, vernon.” you moan, praying the burn in your pussy melts to pleasure soon so he can fuck you the way you want it. the way you need it. . “your cock.”  

he hisses, pushing in past the resistance. “you feel so good, baby, oh my god.” he grunts, head falling back at the way you hug him. “god, i’ve wanted this for so long– wanted you for so long.”

you cry, clenching around his girth because, god, you’ve wanted him, too.

when he finally bottoms out, you both pause to take erratic breaths, positively going feral over each other. he attempts to recollect himself and check up on you again. “are you–”

you don’t even let him finish, nodding your head vigorously. “yes, vernon, just need you to move, please.” you plead. “need you to fuck me– please, need it so fucking bad.”

you’re so needy for him and he knows it’s because of the last bit of weed that looms, but he can’t help but wonder if you’re like this on a normal day. if you’re always begging for a cock to fill you up. not that it would matter– he’d do anything you asked of him. you’re so fucking pretty to him and his brain is constantly yelling at him to cater to every single one of your wishes. the chokehold you have him in is so tight. 

tight like your pretty cunt that’s now gracefully swallowing his cock with every thrust of his hips. your room is full of panting, moans, and the lewd squelch of your wet pussy taking him. it sounds better than any song he’s ever heard and, if he’s being completely transparent, he hopes to experience this for the rest of his life.

vernon unexpectedly comes down, craning his neck to latch his mouth around your nipples again, stimulating you there, too. you’re sure the position is a bit straining, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he moans loudly into your chest. his hand plays with the other nipple, switching every minute to give both of them love and attention all while his cock steadily rams in and out of you. 

your hands tangle in his hair, smothering his face into your tits while he moans and whines some more into them. 

and when he adjusts slightly and his tip hits that spot, the one that makes you crumble in seconds, a sob wracks through your entire body.

“there! shit, baby, right there, please.” you gasp, back arching into him. 

vernon asks breathily, removing his face from the comfortable spot on your chest, “there? that’s it?” 

and you nod, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as you feel the pressure build-up at the bottom of your tummy. he continues to hit the spongy spot inside of you, bringing you closer and closer. 

his own face is pinched and he can’t stop the soft whines that come out of his mouth. you just feel fucking amazing. 

“a-are you close? i’m not gonna last long.” he pants out. 

and you weakly sob out a reply of ‘yes,’ hand moving to toy with your swollen clit. the action immediately has the tightrope inside of you coming undone for the second time in the night. you mewl out his name, clamping around him tightly and coating his cock in slick cum. 

it’s like a chain reaction that has vernon cursing and pulling his dick out of you. he eagerly fists at his cock, jerking himself off till he releases all over your puffy pussy. he’s moaning softly, prettily calling out your name. his heart pounds rapidly and his entire body twitches at the feeling of release. 

his eyes finally open after a few seconds of trying to regulate his breathing. he sees the way your cunt is dressed in white and how you're slowly, but surely, coming down from both of your highs. 

“hey,” he whispers. 

“hi,” you mumble, eyes fluttering open. your hands reach for him and he can’t help but find you so cute. “c’mere.”

he smiles, leaning down to kiss you again. unlike your past few kisses, it’s soft and innocent. loving. he parts after a minute or so, hand moving to sweep the hair out of your face. 

“are you sure you’re alright?” he whispers. “i feel kinda bad…”

“don’t, ‘sol, i wanted it. i’m really happy.” you tell him sincerely. “are you alright?”

he sighs, “i’m really happy, too… i just wish i would’ve taken you out on a date or something before… fucking you.” 

you shake your head, “we did it kinda backwards, but, seriously, i’m just happy you’re here… happy that you’re mine.” he blushes, moving to hide his face in your neck while you giggle. “if you wanna, we can go on a date now?”

“where?” he mumbles into your neck.

“7/11– channie’s working so that means free big gulps and rollers… you know, since some of us can’t afford to eat real food because of their ‘job.’”

vernon scoffs, pulling his face out of your neck and giving you a stern look. “dude, it’s a real job–”

you laugh, effectively cutting him off. “okay, scammer– if it’s a real job, why are you always stealing my fucking weed instead of buying your own?” 

“because weed is scarce these days and your bitch ass dealer hates me– why should i have to pay $20 for a gram when you only pay $5?” he nearly cries. “and, since we’re on the topic, i don’t like him. he’s too friendly with you.” that’s code for “he obviously wants to fuck you.”

“you’re jealous of cheol!”

he groans, rolling his eyes, a tiny pout appearing on his face, “so what if i am?”

you coo, “aw, baby,” hand coming to cup his blushy cheek. “you don’t have to worry about him,” you relay to him, voice laced with sincerity. “you’re the only one i want.”

he goes a little bug-eyed at your words before clearing his throat and nodding. “good. that’s good.” 

you raise an eyebrow, “just good?” 

“no… it’s great…” he mumbles cutely. “you’re also the only one i want.”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[peachycoreroo]

the forbidden fruit | zeke yeager

summary: zeke was like a second father to you and you were his favorite little girl. maybe, it wasn't normal to like your dad's best friend that much, but who cares if it's normal when it feels this good.

pairing: dad’s best friend!zeke x college fem!reader

genre: smut, pwp

word count: 5.4k

warnings: age gap, vaginal penetration, lowkey pseudo-cest bc you call zeke 'uncle', daddy kink, oral fem!receiving, fingering, oral m!receiving, mini degradation, praise kink, a few spanks, choking, zeke spits in your mouth, usage of ‘slut’, ‘whore’ and ‘slutty’, bunny as a pet name, kinda exhibitionism?, manipulation, corruption kink, dub-con vibes but you actually want it, jealousy, mentions of alcohol, smoking, dumbification, manhandling, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up kids), creampie, size kink

authors note: this is for @weepinglevi​‘s adult movie tropes collab, thank you sm for letting me join!! def check out the other amazing fics in this collab<3 this is a lot darker than my other stuff so far, but i had so much fun writing it, so enjoy my first piece for aot!! here’s a link to my masterlist

uncle zeke, or uncle zuzu as you liked to call him when you were still a child, has always been your favorite person since you were little. technically, you weren’t blood-related, but you might as well have been with how integrated into your family he was.

him and your father were best friends since middle school and you did call him ‘daddy’ a lot back then as a three-year-old, when you couldn’t grasp the concept of him not also being your dad. he was there for your birth, your childhood, your embarrassing teens and now even for your 20th birthday.

you don’t exactly know when the thing happened though.

one day, you were all a big, happy family and the next you suddenly realized, how attractive zeke yeager really was. maybe, it was the way you noticed that he was so much more athletic and broader than your father as they walked around your pool in their swimming trunks on a hot summer day. maybe, it was the way you suddenly became aware of how tall he really was, when you tried to reach a cup on a shelf too high, only to feel his presence directly behind you with his chest against your back as he reached his arm above your head and grabbed the cup, only to hand it to you with a teasing ‘you should really try this thing called growing. i heard it does wonders against high shelfs.’ or maybe, it was the way you finally registered how his gray eyes shamelessly checked you out as you walked around in your flimsy crop tops and shorts, barely covering anything.

it was so wrong, but that didn’t mean you would stop your little teasing. your dresses got shorter and shorter, dropping your keys on purpose on the way out just to flash him your lacy panties. hugging him longer than usual as he was leaving, just to press your breasts up against his hard chest. you wanted him to know you weren’t a little girl anymore. you wanted his mind to be filled with lewd thoughts about you. only you.

even when you left for college, you couldn’t stop thinking about the blond man, especially when you were in your bed late at night, with your hand stuffed in your panties and your mouth whimpering his name into the pillow. images of him, with his hard cock in a large palm, pleasuring himself with you on his mind, groaning your name, always brought you to an orgasm, but it wasn’t enough. you knew the only way to quench your need for this man was by having him, no matter how rotten your desire was.

at last, it was finally your birthday, and you couldn’t wait to get home and act upon your ploy to seduce zeke yeager. it was a foolproof plan really. nobody would even suspect you were trying to rile your favorite uncle up, and he would only react, if he wanted you just as much. what better gift for your birthday, than ultimately having the forbidden fruit you’ve been trying to deny yourself of for so long.

“happy birthday, angel!”, your family exclaimed excitedly as you came downstairs. you quickly scanned the room to see uncle zeke already sitting in his usual spot on an armchair in the corner of the living room, getting up and joining your parents at the bottom of the stairs when he noticed your presence.

knowing that he was there, you finally smiled happily, thanking them softly before being pulled into a tight embrace by zeke. “yeah, happy birthday, angel”, he lowly murmured into your ear as he pressed you firmly against him, goosebumps erupting at his slightly suggestive tone.

“thank you, uncle zuzu”, you whispered back, squeezing him tight, hoping to get the message across that you were more than happy to be in his arms.

alas, you were forced to part as your mother shoved him to the side to embrace you, your dad jokingly complaining about you going for a hug with your favorite first instead of your parents, in the background.

“well, i can’t help that i’m so much cooler to her than you”, zeke retorted playfully, earning him a light-hearted punch to the arm from your father.

the rest of the day felt like an eternity. it’s not that you didn’t enjoy spending time with your parents, especially if zeke was there, but the prospect of getting the blond male to act upon your, hopefully, mutual desires, had you looking at the clock more times than you would like to admit.

“are you waiting for something?”

you quickly snapped out of your daydreams of what could happen later, as the man with the main role in them sat down closely beside you, your thighs brushing against each other. you couldn’t help your gaze lingering where your skin touched before blinking up at him through your lashes, only to see him grinning down at you, clearly amused by your stare. time for the first part of the mission.

“oh yeah, i’ll be going clubbing with a few friends later.”

“clubbing?”, zeke pressed with a frown, “and your parents are letting you?”

zeke has always been very overprotective of you. your dad joked that it’s because you’re basically like his daughter, but you hoped it was more than that. that’s why you were counting on his overprotectiveness to eventually lead you to the desired outcome of the day aka you, stuffed full of his cum.

“mmm, yeah. it’s my 20th birthday uncle zeke, not my 10th, you know. i’m an adult”, you retorted provocatively before getting up. “’m gonna go get ready.”

you could swear you felt his irritated glare burn into your back as you made your way upstairs, grinning at the first bit of your plan succeeding.

the second step, was your appearance. just a week before that, you went shopping for the shortest dress you could find, ready to turn heads, or specifically, one head. shower, hair, makeup, baby pink lace underwear, see-through tights, black dress. you haven’t felt this hot and confident in a while with college forcing you to wear hoodies and sweatpants all day every day. no way in hell were you going to make yourself suffer through endless lectures in cute skirts and dresses.

five minutes before your friends came, one of your essential male friends included, you decided to head downstairs to make sure zeke had enough time to admire how hot you looked.

as you came downstairs, you could hear your dad exclaiming ‘look at my beautiful girl, all grown up’, making zeke turn around. goosebumps erupted as you felt his eyes slowly trail along your figure, your skin tingling where his gaze burned into your exposed skin.

you did a full spin, showing off your outfit to the three people in your living room, but only caring about the opinion of one. to your disappointment, you didn’t quite get the reaction you wanted, with zeke turning back around to your mother, continuing to talk about whatever.

no matter how much you hated it, you couldn’t stop the jealousy crawling up your tightening throat, making you sick with disgust. you knew your mother was just as much as a friend to the man of your desires as your father, but it didn’t stop you from feeling this way. you wanted his eyes on you and not some other woman, even if that woman was your own mother.

as if on cue, the doorbell rang out, your mood immediately lifting at the chance that the third step of your plan finally elicits a much-craved reaction from zeke.

you opened the door, your best friends immediately throwing themselves at you, screaming their congratulations and complimenting your attire. just like you hoped, the boy you’ve been friends with and flirted with since high school, jean kirstein, was the last one to congratulate you. he hugged you tight, leaning down, whispering a low ‘happy birthday, pretty girl. you look good enough to eat’, at the same time as your parents and zeke came into the foyer.

the hug you shared with jean lasted just a tad too long for it to count as appropriate, with you giggling excessively at his comment just to be sure that zeke heard it. and as you parted to say goodbye to your family, your flirty friend kept his strong arm around your waist, as though it belonged there.

you don’t miss the way zeke glared at jean’s arm around you or the way he had the slightest frown on his face as he told you to ‘have fun and be careful’, but when you turned around and left the house to get into jean’s car, disappointment filled you when you realized that the blond male didn’t do anything to keep you from going. all this planning and finger crossing for nothing. ‘happy fucking birthday to me’, you bitterly thought, as you drove off into the night, mood already completely ruined.

after hours of trying to enjoy the end of your birthday even for a bit, you finally had enough. jean took you home, trying to make out with you on the backseat of his car in the parking lot, but as tempting as the idea of letting him fuck zeke yeager out of your mind sounded, you couldn’t bring yourself to. the fact that today was supposed to be the day you got your dad’s best friend right where you wanted him, was enough to make you crave a nice shower and your warm bed. you couldn’t wait for this day to end.

when jean pulled up to your house, you parted ways with a quick kiss and a cheeky promise of tomorrow, before making your way into the house. it was already 3 a.m., so you were sure everybody was already asleep, as you quietly made your way inside.

“there you are. welcome back, pretty girl.”

at hearing zeke’s raspy voice out of nowhere, you flinched and let out an unvoluntary squeak. what was he doing here?

you brought your hand to your heart, feeling it hammer against your chest, your eyes snapping to the spot your dad’s best friend was sitting in, in the kitchen. “uncle zeke! you scared me, what are you still doing here?”

as you made your way into the kitchen, you finally noticed the empty tequila bottle on the table and your unconscious father, snoring on the coach in the living room, just a few feet away.

“mmm, wanted to make sure you come home safely after your dad passed out, so i waited for you”, he casually retorted while his grey eyes inspected you from head to toe. smeared lipstick, a light sheen of sweat on your skin and your dress hiked up dangerously high on your thighs.

feeling small under his calculating gaze, you once again looked at your sleeping dad and gestured towards the bottle. “guess you also had a wild party going on?”

“mh, your dad’s just a lightweight.”

the air inside the kitchen was heavy and suffocating. you knew something was wrong with the way zeke wouldn’t stop staring at you and only answered with short sentences, his usual playful chattiness nowhere to be seen.

trying to get rid of the awkwardness and your nervousness, you asked: “where- uh, where’s mom?”

“asleep”, was the short answer you got, making you even more uneasy than before. “oh, w-well. i’m gonna go and also hit the hay. thanks for staying up for me uncle zeke, good night.”

“stop.”

this one word made you halt in your tracks just as you were about to turn around, making you look questioningly back at him. what you didn’t expect however, was to see zeke yeager spread his thighs and pet one of them with a simple ‘sit down, angel.” somehow, the pet name sounded condescending as it left his lips, but that didn’t stop your pussy from clenching at the sight of him with his legs wide open, looking positively inviting like never before.

your gaze quickly flickered towards the unconscious figure in the armchair, but even that couldn’t stop you when uncle zeke was offering you to sit on his lap, like you dreamed of for so long.

your legs slowly took you towards the spot he was sitting in, only for him to pull you on one of his thighs as soon as you were in his reach. his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, while the other found its place on your thigh, your heartrate skyrocketing at the close proximity.

not really knowing what to do with your hands and where to look, you once again brought your gaze to your dad in the living room, having the perfect view of him from your position on zeke’s lap, your fingers interlocked in your own lap as to not touch him too much.

“how was the party?”, he questioned seemingly nonchalant, but his tone had a certain edge to it, that made you feel as if you were being scolded.

you chuckled nervously, keeping your eyes locked on your unconscious father, as you started uttering: “oh, uh… it was- “

only to have zeke’s palm grab your cheeks, squeezing them together in a pout, as he turned your head towards him, forcing you to focus your gaze on him.

“did you fuck him?”

zeke was watching your expression closely when he practically growled the question, taking note of how your eyes widened, your breath deepened, and your thighs automatically pressed together as the meaning of his imposing words settled in.

the jealousy could practically be grabbed as it rolled off the blond male in waves and you knew, that if you wanted your birthday wish to come true, you had to play the part of the innocent and unsuspecting little girl.

“wha-? no!”, you exclaimed supposedly offended and distraught that he would even ask such a thing, as best as you could with your lips pressed together in a pout by his large palm.

the man’s dark grey – were they always this dark? – eyes narrowed as you seamlessly pretended to not know what he was hinting at, but the way you immodestly battered your eyelashes at him, one hand finding it’s way onto the palm that was squeezing your plush thigh, showed him at you weren’t as oblivious as you feigned to be.

“no, huh?”, he chuckled darkly, his hand leaving your face to push you down onto your knees between his legs instead, “then you’re not against helping your dear uncle with a certain issue, or are you baby?”

stammering out a little confused ‘what?’, you quickly checked whether your dad was still asleep, only for yeager’s palm to return to its place on your cheeks, squeezing them once again as he yanked your head back towards him. “don’t act like a brainless, useless slut, angel. it really doesn’t suit you. you’re my smart little girl, aren’t you?”

the sickly-sweet tone he used worked like a charm on your praise-starved brain. you wanted to please him and be his good girl, no matter what it took.

looking up at him with big, wide eyes, a drop of drool fell from your pouty lips onto his jean-clad crotch when he tightened his hold on your cheeks as you nodded like an obedient little toy, making him smile proudly.

“that’s my girl. now,”, he declared, unbothered by the tiny wetness seeping into his pants, his veiny hands made quick work of his belt and zipper, “show me how much you want to help your uncle zeke.”

just the sight of him whipping out his hard cock out of the confinements of his jeans and boxers, was enough to make a small pool of wetness gush out of your cunt, not that it mattered anyway. your lacy panties were already long soaked just from sitting on his lap.

zeke’s cock was longer and definitely thicker than you could’ve ever imagined, bigger than any you’ve ever taken with a prominent vein running on the underside, the tip flushed in a pretty pink. the saliva collecting in your mouth at the prospect of having him down your throat soon made you swallow hard, while you waited for his next instructions, not wanting to disappoint him by acting impulsively.

seeing his best friends’ daughter so submissive and eager-to-please on her knees between his legs as said best friend laid, passed out, just a few feet away, made zeke’s cock twitch. he knew it was sick and wrong, but he has always been a weak man when it came to you.

“go ahead, sweetheart. make uncle zeke feel good.”

at his permission to go, you nearly lunched forward, your pretty lips coated in sticky lipgloss instantly wrapping around the sensitive tip of his dick, making him groan deeply somewhere in the back of his throat.

you alternated between swirling your tongue around his cockhead and slowly sucking, as zeke put a cigarette between his lips, lightning it. normally, you hated the foul smell of nicotine and complained numerous times about how much you hated smokers but… the sight of it dangling between his thick fingers, as his other hand lost itself inside your hair, guiding your head to bob up and down on his length, awakened something deep in you, that you didn’t even know existed.

it didn’t help that while every other person reeking of smoke repulsed you, the same scent clinging to zeke brought you a sense of comfort. the fact that he also looked hot as fuck doing it, certainly didn’t hurt.

above you, the tall man made sure to let his eyes wander to your father from time to time, mostly keeping them locked on your lewd expression and your full lips wrapped around his cock though. he knew that the man a few feet away was a heavy sleeper, especially when drunk, so he wasn’t afraid of letting you know just how pleased he was with you.

“that’s a good girl. doing so good for me, want me to cum down your throat, sweetheart?”  

you mumbled a small ‘please’ around his cock, causing him to groan huskily as your vocal cords vibrated against his sensitive tip. knowing he was almost there, you hallowed your cheeks and tightened your throat, wanting him to lose himself in the inviting warmth of your mouth.

as soon as zeke felt himself teetering at the edge, he couldn’t stop himself from quickly putting out the cig in his hand and holding your head still with his large palms as he started frantically thrusting up in your mouth. having zeke use you to chase his own high made you clench around nothing as you gagged around his length, doing your best to try and keep your jaw slack just so you could hear the man praising you again.

at the feeling of you choking on his cock, zeke’s head fell back as he moaned hoarsely, the sound going straight to the fire in the pit of your stomach already forming just from sucking him off and hearing his erotic grunts.

on the next thrust inside your warm, wet mouth, zeke emptied himself in the back of your throat with a low growl of ‘good fucking girl’, making you whine around his dick. the blond pulled you off as you started coughing, instructing you to ‘swallow, angel.’ being the whipped, little toy you did as you were told, looking up at him as you licked the remaining cum of your spit covered lips.

zeke smirked at your sensual display, whilst he stood up, pulling you up to your feet, only to push you against the dinner table and impatiently smash his lips against yours.

you had half the mind to think about how he didn’t even seem to care that his sticky cum still lingered in your mouth as he kissed you before your brain completely shut down because you were making out with zeke yeager.

strong palms wandered up your thighs under your short dress, cupping your ass while the flimsy fabric rode up as a consequence of his wandering hands. the display of strength as he easily lifted you up on the hard surface behind you, made your head spin. everything this man was doing had you weak in the knees and if you weren’t already seated, you were convinced your legs would’ve given out underneath you.

as yeager made room for himself between your thighs, spreading them in the process, your arms found their place around his broad shoulders, pulling him down even closer towards you as you tasted the whiskey and smoke on his slightly chapped lips. you could hear his soft chuckle at the displeased whimper you let out when he removed himself from you, before tracing his thumb faintly over your clothed clit. just that slightest contact with your puffy bundle of nerves had your hips twitching up, your face heating up at the obvious display of his effect on you.

“aww, is my slutty little baby desperate for her favorite uncle?”, he asked in mock empathy, ripping your tights like it was nothing, before his eyes soaked up the sight of your baby pink lace panties completely ruined by your slick.

“i see you were ready for something to happen today. were you hoping the little boy from earlier would fuck you?”, he almost snarled the question, before adding: “or were you hoping for me, bunny? are these pretty panties just for me?”

as your core gushed out more of your juices at the pet name, you obediently shook your head at his accusation of you dressing up for jean, mewling out: “y-you, daddy. only you.”

zeke closed his eyes to compose himself when his cock twitched alive once again at the sweet melody of you calling him daddy. he knew this was the point of no return. he could’ve stopped this before, he was sure of that, but not anymore. not when you oh so sweetly called out for your daddy to take care of you.

in one swift motion, your panties were gone and thrown into a dark corner of the kitchen, the only light illuminating the space coming from the turned-on lamp in the foyer from when you came home. forcing you to recline back as zeke lifted your legs up on his muscular shoulders, you shuddered as his hot breath hit your drenched pussy.

after just one kitten lick to your core, you heard zeke’s pleased hum, mumbling something along the lines of ‘just as sweet as you, bunny’, but you couldn’t tell for sure because the very next second he was diving tongue first into you, sucking, licking, and slurping like it’s his last meal. the moan that left you at his intense ministrations was downright pornographic and you could only clench around nothing as his large palm came up to silence you.

“as much as i’d love to listen to your cries, sweet thing, gonna wake your parents up if you keep at it”, he muttered against your sensitive clit, the vibrations only making you mewl against his hand.

your hands tried to find purchase somewhere, the hard surface of the table, your plush thighs, before your nails finally got a grasp of his blond locks, using the leverage as an advantage to push his face even further into your slick cunt.

the obscene, wet sounds that echoed in the room were making your face heat up, but the embarrassment didn’t stop you from grinding desperately against his tongue, his thick beard rubbing painfully but oh so deliciously against the delicate skin of your inner thighs.

when you felt two of his thick fingers probe at your entrance before pushing in, instantly hitting that one spot inside you, you threw your head back as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, thighs trembling against his head as you reached your peak around his digits. your back arched off the wooden table, thighs snugly pressing against the sides of his head, almost suffocating him in the process, while you moaned a long, high-pitched ‘daddy’ against his palm.

zeke yeager could proudly say that he’s had his fair share of women, but the sight of you, succumbing to the pleasure he was providing you with, was by far the most erotic he had the privilege of witnessing. the mix of your cross-eyed expression, your sloppy cunt clenching impossibly around his thick fingers and your body twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm, only fueled his desire to see you go dumb on his fat cock.

a hard slap against the fat of your right thigh caused you to squeal, your legs sliding down from his shoulders, completely limp from all the spent energy. zeke leaned down, once again capturing your lips in a heated make out. his warm tongue still had the distinct taste of your release on it as it slipped between your lips, his full beard soaked in your juices scratching against your cheeks and chin, but you certainly didn’t mind as long as you could have him between your legs, mouths interlocked.

“wanna see your cute lil’ ass while i wreck you, bunny. can you turn around for daddy?”, he questioned, voice raspy, but he didn’t actually wait for an answer, grabbing your hips in a bruising grip and flipping you over on your stomach, ass pressed up against his crotch already. not being able to control yourself at another clear display that his muscles weren’t just for show, your hips automatically grinded back against his painfully hard cock.

another strong blow was delivered, this time to your bouncy behind, your small mewl echoing in the large space. “slutty, desperate whores aren’t appreciated here, bunny. thought you were daddy’s good, little girl? guess daddy was wrong about you”, zeke sighed in faux disappointment, knowing you would do anything for him to keep praising you.

“n-no! am your good, little girl! ‘m sorry, daddy, please don’t leave”, you practically sobbed out, to drunk on his touch to realize the manipulative undertone in his phrasing.

smirking victoriously, the blond tenderly smoothed his huge palm, with his fingers covered in your already dried up essences, over your ass check, his fat tip nudging against your soaked entrance, whilst he shh-ed you, promising that he’s ‘not gonna leave you bunny, ‘m all yours.’

at the promise of him belonging to you, your eyes rolled into the back of your head, just as yeager decided to push his aching dick into your tight pussy. at the first bump against your gummy walls, you both knew no one would ever be able to compare. it was a tight fit as he continued to push past the resistance of your cunt, hissing at the continuous contractions around his sensitive cock. no way in hell, he thought to himself as he already had to hold himself back from cumming as if he were some virgin all over again.

when he finally bottomed out, his patience was close to non-existent, so without waiting for you to adjust, he started thrusting in you like a mad man. your hands flew out to grab the other edge of the wooden surface to have some kind of support, as his powerful thrusts made the whole table shake and drag across the tiled floor.

“’s too much, daddy! slow down!”, you wailed, knowing full well that this was exactly what you waited for all this time. the dark chuckle that left his panting and grunting mouth told you that he was also very aware of the fact that you didn’t actually want him to slow down, so the only reaction you got, besides his acknowledging chuckle, were his thrusts picking up in speed.

after another strong hit to your jiggling ass and a groan that sounded suspiciously like ‘such a perfect ass’, zeke leaned over you, completely covering you with his large frame. his hand found its way to your front, giving your tits a quick squeeze through your dress, before continuing its journey up, finally settling around your neck.

as it constricted around your neck, thick fingers expertly pressing against the pressure points, restricting the air flow oh so deliciously, your spit-covered lips fell open in a silent ‘o’, the act lurching you impossibly closer to your orgasm. at this point, the only coherent words you were able to formulate were ‘yes’, ‘daddy’ and ‘please’, causing the tall man’s chest to fill with pride at your dumbed out state.

“my cute, submissive, little bunny. have i fucked you stupid with my cock?”, he teased, only to get his confirmation by the lack of response on your side, too far gone to process that he asked a question.

the rhythmic clenching of your warm core reminded him that his dick was practically begging him to let it stuff you full of his sticky cum, so as his grip on your throat and hip tightened even more, he let his carnal desires take over as he rutted impossibly faster inside you.

every thrust caused his fat tip to poke harshly against your cervix, the feeling of pain only fueling your pleasure, as you silently took all your favorite uncle was giving you. somewhere in the back of your mind the thought of your father sleeping just in the next room flew around, but it quickly got fucked back out by zeke’s fat cock.

at the next rough plunge inside your warm walls and the low growl of ‘cum on daddy’s fucking cock, bunny’ directly beside your ear, you came undone with a loud moan of his name. you were pretty sure the force of your orgasm made you blackout for a second, because the next time you came to your senses, zeke was shooting his load inside your inviting cunt directly at your cervix, your name leaving his lips like a prayer.

you were exhausted. your whole body shook and twitched, your stomach hurt from being pressed against the edge of the dinner table for so long, sweat dripping down on the surface from your face and neck.

suddenly the room was way too quiet, safe for the heavy breathing and your occasional whimpers. slowly, zeke pulled out, only to spread your cheeks apart to take a good luck at your abused pussy pushing out his white cum. it slowly trickled down your legs, mixing with your leaked juices on the tiles beneath your feet.

not having the energy to move, you let the blond male pull down your dress back over your ass, listening to the rustle of fabric and belt clicking as he got dressed again. just as he gently helped you stand-up again, you could hear a yawn coming from the doorway that led to the living room.

“what’re you both doing?”, your half-awake father asked as he made his way through the kitchen past you to get to the foyer. your nails dug into zeke’s muscular forearms as the panic of getting caught formed in the pit of your stomach, only to hear the older man murmur a casual, seemingly sleepy ‘she just got home, gonna go sleep now’, as though he wasn’t blowing out your back just a few minutes prior.

with an unsuspecting ‘’aight, night you two’, your dad disappeared in the shared bedroom with your sleeping mother.

“fuck”, you breathed out, stressed at almost being caught and your legs buckling, only for zeke’s strong arms to hold you up right.

“hey, look at me, angel”, the male softly demanded, gaze tender as your eyes met his. “i’ll bring you to bed and clean up here, okay? don’t worry about a thing.”

a sleepy, but happy smile stretched itself across your lips at him caring for you so deeply.

“open your mouth, sweetheart.”

without second-guessing the request, you obediently opened your mouth, only to feel his saliva hit your outstretched tongue. the taste made you mewl needily as you realized what it all meant. you were his and he was yours.

zeke chuckled, amused by your blissed out expression, before pecking your lips, picking you up and caring you to your room with you mumbling a satisfied ‘best birthday ever’ against his neck.

[reidgraygubler]

caught in the nets (spencer reid/reader)

Title: caught in the nets

Requested: no

Couple: spencer reid/fem!reader

Category: smut, fluff

Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (penetrive sex, unsafe sex, public sex (public bathroom), fingering, handjob, grinding, groping, heavy petting, fucking with fishnets on, tipsy sex, possessive), hand on jaw/neck (no pressure), swearing, drinking, mentions of a gun, mentions of casework, friends to lovers

Word Count: 3,944

Summary: Spencer loves what reader is wearing while out at a bar with the team

A/N: hi guys, gals, and non-binary pals! Here’s another thing i wrote. this is another thing I was super excited to write. AND I wrote it for one of my bestest friends @spencer-reid-in-a-pool for pom’s server fic swap. I wrote it in literally two days bc I had a week to write it. But it does have a prompt and a few other things she likes in it! also quick shout out to @newportonmymind for proofreading this!! i really appreciate you! I really hope you guys enjoy this piece! Thank you all so much for the love and support! I appreciate it and you! Check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

Rough cases will always be the worst. Sometimes they felt hopeless, like we weren’t able to figure out how to save a victim. In the end we were able to save the victim and arrest the unsub. But it was still rough.

So drinks were a must when it came to the end of rough cases. I know it’s a bad thing to turn to drinking in a rough time. But sometimes nothing helped more than a drink. It was easier to relax with a little liquor in your system. Well, it was easier for me to relax with a little liquor. I couldn’t say about the rest of the team.

I was the one who offered up the idea of going to a bar when we returned home. I just needed a little something to help me unwind. Luke, Penelope and Tara were the next to say they’d be coming. After some light convincing, Emily, JJ, and Matt agreed. David was quick to leave before we could get to him about it.

Which left Spencer. At first he put up a fight, arguing that he had to go home. Home to what? We have the same situation. Eventually Penelope wore him down and got him to go.

“Okay, I’ll meet you guys there. I need to change out of these clothes.” I looked down at the business attire I had worn on the plane. I really wished I had changed out of them too, and into something more comfortable.

“Sounds good, Sweetness! See you in a bit.” Penelope looked at me with a smile. I returned the smile before collecting my things from my desk, and leaving.

Part of me wanted to wear a sweatshirt and sweatpants. But I also wanted to wear jeans and a tee-shirt, just to be comfortable. I also wanted to wear something more… party like. Mostly because we’re going to a bar, where there were going to be lots of people. Mmm…

I went with the latter. My outfit ended up consisting of a plain black top, paired with short-shorts and a “comfortable” pair of heels. Under the shorts I wore one of my favorite clothing items, a pair of black fishnets. They were one of my favorite things because I always gained the attention of someone. And I usually enjoyed that attention. I just don’t know whose attention I wanted.

Once I was satisfied with how I looked, I grabbed my bag and left for the bar. I was the first to leave the BAU, but the last to show up to the bar. Even Spencer was there before me, which was a rarity.

“Hey sorry I’m late. Traffic was nuts… And I just wanted to look nice,” I laughed nervously as I looked down before sitting beside Penelope. Everyone’s eyes were on me, and I tried to avoid the feeling of the stares. At first I tried to not be self-conscious, after all I was the one who wanted to dress a little more… sexy and get the attention of others.

“What are you wearing?” Luke asked after he took a sip of his beer. I looked down at my attire and shrugged.

“Wanted someone’s attention. Figured I’d get it here.” I gestured around the room towards the many groups of people. “Already got yours, Lukey-poo,” I cooed as I looked at him. He looked back at me with a weird look in his eyes. “Where’s Spence?”

“He went to get a drink.” JJ nodded towards the bar before sipping her drink. I looked over my shoulder and towards the bar. My eyes quickly identified the lanky and awkward body of Spencer standing beside the bar as he waited for a drink.

“Has the bartender been flirting with him the whole time?” I looked back at the team with wide eyes. Tara looked over at JJ with a smug smile before nodding. “No ones gonna save him?” “Figured we’d give him a try first.” Matt shrugged as he looked back at me. I let out a mildly annoyed sigh before standing up.

“Where are you going?” Emily asked as she looked at me. I smiled as her eyes very slowly lingered down my body. There was an obvious struggle, and I liked that. I was definitely getting the attention I craved tonight. Even though it’s from my superior.

“Gonna go save boy wonder from inevitable embarrassment that he will probably succumb to.” I rested my hand on the table as I looked at the team. JJ and Emily shared a knowing glance. “And I’m getting myself a drink.” I shrugged before shoving my hands in my small pockets and walked towards the bar and Spencer.

“Hey Spence!” I exclaimed as I looked at him. He looked away from the bartender and smiled. His smile, however, quickly melted away and a hungry look took over his eyes.

“H-hey,” he mumbled before looking back at the bartender. She looked between me and Spencer before muttering a few profanities and walking away. I smirked before taking the space up beside Spencer.

“You seeing something you like, Reid?” I asked as soon as I noticed him staring at me again. I leaned over the bar beside him and smiled.

“I.. Uh, I…” He cleared his throat before looking away from me and down at the counter. Well, maybe I did know whose attention I wanted…

“Anyways, I’ve come to save you.”

“Save me?”

“The bartender…” I whispered before nodding in her direction. Spencer looked down at her and we both caught her looking between us before dropping her gaze.

“The bartender?”

“Just get your drink and come on,” I laughed before standing up and away from the counter. Spencer looked back at me with a raised eyebrow. He was obviously confused as to what I was talking about. But I’ll honestly save him the embarrassment. “Oh, wait. I want a drink too!” I exclaimed as I leaned over the counter.

Once we both had our drinks, I silently led him back to the table. I enjoyed the feeling of people’s eyes on me as I walked by them. I could even sense Spencer staring at me. To be fair, my shorts were a little on the shorter side…

Maybe the attention I was getting was from the person I wanted it from the most…

Spencer and I returned to the table, and we were quick to join into whatever conversation they were having. The entertaining stories that Matt told about his kids made everyone go into a fit of laughter.

The laughter only grew the more drinks that everyone had consumed. We weren’t exactly drunk, well some of us weren’t drunk. But when someone in the bar orders a round of drinks for the table, it’s hard to say no.

JJ, Spencer and Matt were the only ‘mostly sober’ ones. Followed by Tara and me being tipsy, but sober enough to know what was happening. Penelope, Luke and Emily had enough to drink and had left the table to go dance with each other and random people in the bar.

“I wanna dance,” I muttered as I looked down at the table. Matt cleared his throat, causing me to look up at him. He was nodding a Spencer, who was looking around the room at all the other people. A small smile grew across my lips before I jumped from my seat. Spencer and JJ both looked at me with shock on their faces.

I looked right at Spencer and smiled. “You.” I pointed at him. “Me.” Then I pointed at myself. “We’re dancing,” I spoke as I jerked my thumb behind me. Spencer’s face fell slightly as he watched me walk to stand in front of him. I smiled as his eyes lingered on my body for a brief moment before landing on my face. “Come on. Let’s leave mom and dad alone.” I lifted a hand for him to take. He looked at it for a moment before hesitantly placing his hand into mine.

Once he stood, I dragged him over to the dance floor, where we both stood still. I didn’t know what was going through his head, but I wished I did. His body wasn’t tense, in fact I could tell he liked that I was being daring and the close proximity I was in.

We, and by we I mean me, hardly danced. It was mostly just me. And my dance moves consisted of me grinding on him. Which seemed to rile him up enough to entertain me. I enjoyed it more when he rested his hands on my hips and held me in front of him.

I looked around the room at all the people, watching as they continued dancing with their friends and people. Then I looked back at Spencer before grabbing his hand. His once hazel eyes were blown out black and a look of hunger and lust was settled in them. He looked like he knew what he wanted, and he was about to do anything in his power to get it too.

I looked away from him and around the room, again, looking for a familiar face. It wasn’t that I needed someone to save me from this moment. No. I needed to make sure none of our friends saw what I was about to do next.

I turned to face Spencer again and pressed my chest to his. He placed his hands on my hips and pulled them flush against his. The breath was knocked from my lungs when I felt how hard he was through his slacks and my shorts.

I grabbed his wrist and turned away from him before dragging him out of the bar and towards the bathrooms. He didn’t say anything when I pulled him into the women’s bathroom and into a stall. I’ll forever be grateful for that too because I don’t know where else we would go to.

I pulled him into a stall and locked it before pushing him against the door. His lips quickly attached to mine, and before I knew it his teeth grazed across my lower lip. And just like before, when we were out in the bar, his hands fell back to my hips and he pulled me against him. He rolled his hips to mine, pressing his bulge into my body.

“I can’t believe you,” Spencer groaned against my mouth. I looked up at him and smirked. “Why’s that? What makes me so unbelievable?” I whispered as I pressed a hand to his front. Spencer’s body froze and a hiss came from his lips.

“You coming to this bar, dressed like that, acting like you own the place,” his voice was low as he spoke. I smiled before I looked for his belt. “Acting like you aren’t arousing every man-- and woman-- here. That’s right, I saw the way Emily looked at you,” he continued as he looked at me.

“I just wanted attention from someone. But I’m sure happy that it’s your attention that I’m getting, Spencer,” I whispered before I pressed my hips against his.

“Well… I don’t think you’ll be getting attention from anyone else other than mine from now on.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re mine now, Sweetness,” he mildly mocked the pet name Penelope had given me earlier today. I stared at him, my breathing growing shallow. “And no one else’s.” Goosebumps grew like fire across my skin once I realized the honesty and reality of his words. Or, well, I should say his possessiveness. At first I wasn’t sure if I wanted or believed what he said, but a moment passed and I realized… I wanted it so bad.

We both fell into a silent stare down. My hands, however, kept busy as they looked for his belt. But then a smirk grew across my lips the second I realized he still had a hard on waiting for me.

I was quick as I tried undoing his belt buckle, hoping he wouldn’t notice. But he obviously did when I began struggling and fumbling for a moment.

“Is that a gun or are you just happy to see me, Reid?” I whispered as I carefully slipped my hand into his pants and briefs. My question was otherwise rhetorical. I knew for a fact it was a gun. But I also knew it wasn’t a gun.

Spencer took a deep breath of air once my hand was wrapped around his length. I smiled as I slowly moved my hand back and forth, gently applying pressure.

“It’s a gun,” Spencer returned, keeping his voice low, “But I’m more than happy to see you. Trust me.” I could tell he was trying to be sly with his words. Because when he started talking his voice was deep and a little rough, but as he continued on talking, they got a little shaky and a little bit higher. I wanted to mock him, but I knew better than to do that.

“Oh… I do,” I whispered as I quickened my pace. My lips were hovering over his. His breath fanned across my face, and I could just barely smell the gin and tonic he had drank earlier.

My heart was beating hard in my chest because I was about to fuck my co-worker in the bathroom at fucking bar. I wondered if his was doing the same thing. I wondered if his thought process was the same as mine too.

I also wondered if he felt the same way. Maybe I’ve always wanted the attention from Spencer. He was right there, and always has been, and always will be. Plus we’ve known each other for years. So what’s the harm? Maybe he felt the same?

The grip Spencer held on my hips started to tighten as I continued to stroke his length. I could feel his tension growing the longer I went. My lips slowly curled at the corners as I realized how much I was going to enjoy this.

Then it happened. Spencer flipped our positions so I was pressed against the door. Both of my wrists were in one of his hands, held above my head. His other hand was already messing with the button of my shorts.

“You think you’re the only one who can do that, Sweetness,” he whispered before pressing his lips to my neck. It was his turn to grind his hips against mine, easily taking my breath away again.

“Spence…” I gasped once his hand was finally down the front of my shorts. I tried hard to pull my hands from his hand, but his grip only tightened.

“See, two can play at this game,” he spoke softly as he swiped a finger up my slit. I bit my lips together as he gently moved his finger around the sensitive nub between my thighs. “But unlike you I’m going to let you finish.”

“I was go-oh…” I whimpered as my knees buckled down causing my hips to grind on his hand. He smiled before carefully pushing a finger into my entrance. It was suddenly hard to concentrate as he curled his fingers just right.

“That’s what I thought,” Spencer murmured against my ear before moving his mouth to the corner of my mouth, then to my neck. A small moan fell from my mouth as he sucked a spot onto the base of my neck.

I stayed silent as Spencer continued whispering dirty things in my ear. Part of me almost forgot who I was with. Not because of what was happening, but because of what he was saying. I had no clue Spencer could say such dirty things. My train of thought was all over the place, derailing the moment I would gain a coherent thought.

Once I did eventually finish on his fingers, he pulled his hand from my shorts and looked down at me. It was a silent moment of a stare down. I was quiet because I was sure of what was about to happen. I was about to fuck Spencer Reid. I was willing to bet Spencer was calculating how long the events of everything would take. I didn’t care, I just wanted it and I wanted it now.

I broke the stare down, looking down at his slacks and the bulge that was still pressing against the fabric. I silently undid the button and zipper and pushed his pants down.

Spencer stopped me before I could do anything else. I looked up at him, my eyes staying on his face as he pushed down my shorts. Then it happened. I was expecting sex to happen like normal. Half naked.

I furrowed my eyebrows when he started getting ready. My tights were still on me properly. He didn’t forget. Man has the best mind in the world. He wouldn’t forget about my tights.

“Wait,” I whispered as I went to pull my tights off, but Spencer stopped me. His hand wrapped around my wrist before he pulled it away. “I gotta take my tights off if we-Oh…”I looked up at him with wide eyes once I realized what he wanted.

“Keep them on,” he whispered so softly I almost didn’t hear him. I nodded lightly. Truth be told, I could see the appeal in it. I did wear the fishnets for a reason. And I knew how I looked in them.

“I can do that.”

Spencer hoisted one of my legs around his waist and pressed my body against the wall. I stared at him, my arms wrapped around his neck to keep me up right. He also helped keep me up by keeping his hands on my hips. Once I was steady, Spencer ripped a hole in the crotch of my tights.

My teeth bit down on my lower lip as he dragged the head of his cock down my pussy. I almost couldn’t handle the way he teased my entrance. I wondered if he could see how frustrated I was starting to get. He’s a profiler. He should just know already how much I needed this.

“I swear to-” ‘God, Spencer.’ My words were cut off with a moan as he pressed into me all at once. It was hard to keep my head up right, and I fought for a moment before finally dropping it to rest on his shoulder. I brought my hand to my mouth and bit down.

Spencer moved a hand around to rest on my bottom. My mouth fell as his hand began massaging my flesh. That, paired with the way he began moving his hips started becoming too much for me.

He looked down at me, sweat beginning to mat down his hair to his forehead. His eyebrows were furrowed together as he picked up his pace. My leg around his waist pulled him closer to me.

“Don’t stop, please, please don’t stop,” I whined as he finally moved closer to me. My body began moving up and down the door. The cloth of my tank top had started riding up, and my hot skin was instantly touching the cool steel door.

Spencer lifted a hand to my head, placing it on the backside before pulling my face to his. His lips pressed everywhere on my face, not one spot was ignored. I pulled my hands away from his neck and grasped his shirt and tie, keeping him in his spot.

“You could’ve worn anything and I still would have wanted to fuck you. Sweatpants and oversized tee-shirt, that pencil skirt you wore back in Oklahoma… But the fishnets really do take the cake.”

“I-I knew someone would like them.” I tried to keep my voice steady. But it was so hard when pressure began growing in my stomach and between my legs.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this? You here, looking like this,” his voice was almost a growl. My chest began heaving with each word he said and each movement he made. “Too damn long, that’s how long.”

Spencer removed his hand from the back of my head and dropped it to between my legs, resting it high on my thigh. His thumb moved back and forth on my leg, over the material of the fishnets. The look in his eyes drove me wild, and I loved it so, so much.

“Better me than anyone else. I’m not willing to share.” Spencer actually growled as he moved his finger to the crest of my legs. He smiled when I looked up at him with a mildly panicked look in my eyes. “Do you understand why, Sweetness?”

“N-no.”

“As I told you earlier, you’re mine,” he struggled as he tried to hold back a moan.

“Fuck,” I cried as my head dropped back down to his shoulder. I pressed a hand to the wall beside me. I gasped for air as the pressure in my stomach grew to the point of exploding.

“Only I can make you feel like this. You got that, Sweetness?” Spencer groaned, which quickly caused me to nod.

It was impossible to stay quiet as the pressure built up more. The situation was pushed more as soon as Spencer started moaning more into my ear. It was so overwhelming the second he said my name.

And then it happened. I finished before him. But it wasn’t too long after that a familiar warmth spread throughout me.

Spencer dropped his head to my shoulder, and we were both left in panting, breathless messes. My eyes were stuck open as I tried recollecting myself.

“I waited a long time for that too, Spencer,” I whispered, breaking the silence after a few minutes passed. He laughed and nodded.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Of course you do.” I shook my head and pushed his body off mine. He looked down at me with a smirk. “What… What does this mean?”

“Could mean anything. We let things happen naturally, or we pretend nothing happened at all. I’d prefer the former, if I’m going to be honest with you.” He gently lifted a hand and rested it on my face. My nose twitched as soon as I felt something rolling down my thigh. Then my eyes widened.

“N-naturally… Yeah,” I whispered, mostly to myself, as I reached for a wad of toilet paper. I quickly cleaned up the mess that was between my legs and shook my head.

“We should go. Get you properly cleaned.” Spencer spoke up once I was done cleaning myself a bit.

“Well now we gotta go out there and pretend like nothing happened,” I whispered as I looked up at him. Spencer shrugged like it was no big deal. “Where did this sudden cockines come from?”

“When I realized you could have any guy in the bar… And you chose me.” He smiled before wrapping an arm around my waist. I widened my eyes as we exited the bathroom and entered the crowd of people together. People stared at us as we walked by, but I couldn’t tell if it was both of us they were staring at or just me. Spencer’s grip around my waist tightened as he pulled me closer to him. “Remember, Sweetness… I don’t like sharing what’s mine,” his voice was low. My body stiffened once the reality of his words hit me. His.

“Where were you guys?” Emily looked between Spencer and I. I looked at her with wide eyes, my expression telling her (and the rest of the team) everything they needed to know. I’m sure I looked like a hot fucking mess.

“Sweetness here was outside not feeling too well. So I brought her to the bathroom and helped her out a little bit,” Spencer lied with a smile.

Even he knew the lie was useless. But I think everyone would rather believe the obvious lie than rather just know the truth. To be fair, I’d rather tell them all a useless lie rather than the truth. “She still doesn’t feel too well. So I’m going to take her home.”

“Oh! Bummer! I hope you feel better!” Penelope was the first to speak up. I was thankful too that she played along because I really couldn’t handle that embarrassment…

“I will.. Hopefully by morning… I’ve got the best doctor I know taking care of me.” I smiled softly as I looked up at Spencer. He glanced back at me with a smile.

“Have a nice rest of the night.” Spencer nodded to the team before guiding me away from the table and towards the front doors.

“My place or yours?” I looked back at him once we were finally outside and walking towards his car.

“Mine.”

if you want to be a part of a taglist (lmk if ur 18+ for smut) or have any comments about this one-shot, let me know here

taglist: @thebluetint​ @muffin-cup​ @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​ @spencersmagic @90spumkin​ @jareids​ @broken-stardust​

[a-kaash-me-outside]

elaborate more on sub atsumu😞 that peg fic got me obsessed help sksk 🥸

♡ 𝗯𝗿𝗮𝘁𝘁𝘆 𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵 𝗯𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝘀𝘂𝗺𝘂 ♡

oh god yes thank you for this ASK because i would love to go more in-depth about sub atsumu as depicted in my pegging post bc i have so many //thots// i hope u enjoy this bc mmmmm i did

// nsfw (minors dni !!), f!reader, bottom!atsumu, brat taming, toys, restraints, crying, power dynamics, atsumu’s tits sorry

no because he is literally such a bratty little bratty bottom bratty bitch brat

did I mention he’s a brat

as i mentioned before, he is totally okay with whatever you throw his way. when you first mentioned tying him up, you were expecting him to be weird about it or apprehensive in any regard, but he was so cool about it

now, you've gotten so used to using restraints and they're just really helpful because you know you're not strong enough to combat the physical bratty tendencies of tsumu, and also they just look so good against his skin, like they were meant to be there

and after you both got comfortable with using them, he was so open to whatever else you wanted to use, like you've definitely used a ball gag on him before to shut him up and it was weird not hearing his whiny bitching as you teased him, but he did look so cute drooling and trying to protest

but more than a gag, it is so satisfying, so fucking gratifying to pull his pretty mouth all the way onto your strap, his lips stretched around the girth, tears pricking at his eyes, hands bound behind his back so he honest to god had no control at all

you just thrusted into his mouth, abused his throat how fucking long you were, and when you pulled all the way out he would either scowl at you and say something, lick his lips and open up wider, or, on the very rare occasion, thank you

will cum all over himself, thrusting into his fist and spilling over his own hand, cumming untouched against his stomach, shooting his sticky load so fucking far when you jerk him off that it gets on his face

he absolutely loves when you touch his body when he cums, caressing his tits and thumbing over his nipples and clawing into his thighs and running your fingers down his biceps like fuck

is the most grateful bitch ever when he finally cums, sobbing your name, calling you baby over and over thanking you so fucking loudly as he releases that you almost forget how much of a brat he was earlier

and fuck he’s so Fuckinnggntntn GORGEOUS when he cums it’s unfair

you push his hair out of his face and hold onto his face and his eyes roll back in his head and he can’t stop himself from humping whatever he can come into contact with or the air if there’s nothing there

and his load is so big and he’s so messy and he loves how much you praise him when he cums because honestly it’s the only time he gets praised bc the rest of the time he’s a little fucking bitch

but when he looks that good and is that fucking thankful when he’s cumming, you can’t help the praises that come out of your mouth, telling him he’s such a good boy for you making such a mess all over himself, so pretty and sticky and big

yes he’s so fucking perfect when he cums but this is more so about how much of a bratty bitch bottom he is and so mmm

there’s this one night where he’s absolutely horrible, he’s worst he’s ever been, he refuses to listen to anything you say, and everything you do to combat his brattiness is met with a smirk or a laugh

"yer fucking delusional. the only reason ya think yer in charge is because i cant move, cant, cant actually oppose anything ya do"

"you've got a nasty mouth there, miya," you retort with squinted eyes, lowering down to his level to see if this fight in him is genuine or just for show. you're expecting to see a sort of calmness having taken over upon calling him by anything other than a catered nickname. you expect it to ground him in any regard, but it feels like it just fuels him even further.

"how's this fake power trip ya've got goin' on here?" he spits, leaning forward against his restraints, "i swear to god, if ya took me out of these restraints, ya wouldn't have an ounce of control over anythin'"

it's written all over his face, this need, this expectancy for you to fight back, and you want to. you want to laugh at him and tell him that he was just taking your cock so nicely or jeer at the fact that he's much better used than heard, but this is so different than his typical outlashes. if you sent a condescending quip back at him, it would only make his attitude that much worse.

he's so strong in his convictions, in these power-hungry thoughts, that when you actually start removing the restraints, you can feel the momentary hesitance. he's still for only a beat, not knowing what to do with the situation now that he has all of the free range that he was whining about earlier. and then he moves, realizes that he can test you even more now, and pushes the restraints to the side.

"'m not gonna fuckin grovel to you for anything. ya need me more than i need you, fulfillin' yer little authoritarian daydream, try somethin' now that ya don't have me-"

"you have a choice, atsumu," you cut him off, crawling onto the middle of the bed, lying flat on your back and uncapping the lube. "you either come ride this cock like i know you've wanted to do all fucking night."

you pour the lube onto the head of your strap, using your fingers to spread the slickness down to the base, fucking up into your hand so slowly that you don't need to see the look on atsumu's face to know his mouth is wide open.

"or you can lay on the floor and jerk off to the thought of it. either way i'm pretty happy."

there are a few moments where you actually let your mind wander to the possibility of atsumu not swallowing his stubborn pride and doing what he really fucking wants to do. he's not walking over to you, not yet at least. he's just staring, a wounded expression on his face and internal conflict so intense within his eyes that you can see it despite his averted gaze.

when he does finally walk to you, it’s like he's walking towards imminent death, slow and defeated, and you've never felt better. there's a smile growing on your face that you're sure will never disappear and now feels like the perfect time for a condescending comment.

"what restraint or rope brought you here, pretty? right to me."

he doesn't respond with something coherent, only grumbles as he causes the bed to sink at your side. you don't force him to come up with a witty response, figure that he's been through enough tonight considering his vast change in mood. plus, you don't need him to say it aloud, nor does he need to say it aloud, for both of you to know deep inside what's true.

miya atsumu isn't just a bratty bitch bottom, he's your bratty bitch bottom. no amount of restraints or external causals would change that.

he's gentle when he throws his leg over top of you, resting it carefully beside your hip, whimpering when he feels the wet length slide against the underside of his cock.

"right, one more thing, actually, before you can fuck yourself,” you murmur, looking up at him with big eyes, rubbing your slicked strap beneath his thick thighs. you lean in closer, voice low to cause the preceding shivers across his skin.

"grovel, tsumu."

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[azems-familiar]

hello! are there any songs you associate with any of the kotor characters? (totally not asking bc my brain is hungry for animatic ideas haha,,)

OH BOY DO I HAVE SONGS

first things first, i will direct you to my twelve hour Revan playlist that i use for writing vibes, it's a mixture of vocal and instrumental and it has both a bunch of Revan songs for different eras of Revan, plus revalek songs, plus some revastila songs, plus some songs that just vibe.... it's good and most of the songs i'm about to highlight, if not all of them, are on there already.

NOW. HERE WE GO.

first things first, i need to introduce you to the title song for my mandalorian wars fic, oblivion by the aviators! god, this song doesn't fit all Revans perfectly, but it fits mine so well it was like it'd been written for her specifically, i swear. listening to the song was what inspired me to write the fic to begin with (and now i have a whole series oops). i mean, come on, look at the chorus:

Let the broken heroes rise Let the victors take their prize No one wins when justice dies War has let this age begin It's where we've gone and where they've been What a state that we're in Here in oblivion

can't look at that and tell me that isn't Jedi Knight Revan and the war that broke them.

next up!! liar by the arcadian wild, my beloved. this song is currently my top all time on spotify, closely followed by the song i'm going to rec after it and then achilles come down - and the fact that anything unseated achilles for the top spot should tell you something. (and if you don't know what achilles come down is look it up that one's on my playlist too.) this is a really good one for Revan's slow fall down, the corruption arc - again, all of the songs i'm mentioning really fit my own versions of the characters best, but they're just good in general. some of the lyrics i enjoy from this one:

hnext up, we have it all by pim stones. this particular one feels very revalek to me, early in the Sith years when they still maybe had good intentions, maybe after the war but before becoming Darth. there's this softer, almost desperate tone to the way the singer sings it that just hits me hard - this is the song i'm using as the title for my Sith years interlude fic! a lyric snippet:

All my life I've been heading for hell But never had I thought I'd drag you down as well I just couldn't resist what he was trying to sell

There's glory ahead but our love will be forgotten If my heart was still mine I would go to the bottom And apologise to you until the day it went rotten

next up we have the balancer's eye by lord huron, which is the song i named my series after (have you noticed a trend yet?). it's a very Revan vibe in general, and while i'm not as much of a fan of the style, the lyrics are really excellent!

Nothing's waiting for us in the great sky Life is equal to dust in the balancer's eye Now I know that I can't lift an old curse Tell me, how does a man change the universe?

Will I ever be forgiven for the crime of my life? Will it haunt me 'til I die?

mmm let's see what next. OH! go to war by nothing more. this is just straight up a Sith years song for revalek, whether you ship them or not - they were important to each other either way! ..... i am not going to tangent into yelling about revalek. that is not what this is for. anyway, the song itself is a) a banger and b) talking about love corrupting and falling apart and it just. it hits, man

Do we censor? Do we flow? Are we drunk on the chemicals? Every feeling in my bones Tells me to lash out and tell you to fuck off You've got my heart and I've got your soul But are we better off alone? With every battle we lose a little more Remember everything that we'd die for You are everything that I'd die for

oooh NEXT we have the song i was going to use for my Jaw Scene before i decided to write a full sith years fic. saints by echos is the song, and again, we've got Sith years Revan and Malak here (yes yes i have a type), the vibes of losing faith and anger and it blends really well with how Revan basically played off being a legendary figure to the Republic to fuel their war against it!

You were standing there like an angry god Counting out my sins just to cross them off Saying that my tongue was too loud to trust And that my blood couldn't keep you

My dear, you're not so innocent You're fooling Heaven's gates So you won't have to change You're no saint, you're no savior

mmmm okay the discord has informed me that ten (10) songs is the maximum i should do in one post so. i will only do four more. chrysalis - the last breath by delain is yet another Sith Revan and Malak song and honestly you can read it as a response to the song above, if you think of saints from Malak's pov and chrysalis from Revan's, they mesh really well together.

Hey, are you still mad? About the time We almost went too far I know your regrets In my defense; By now, it's just a scar That distracts you from Your broken heart Like you wanted it to do How do you feel? I don't... How do you know? You won't... To let go of you I will try Until my last breath How do you feel? I don't... How do you know? You won't... To let go I promise I will fight

next! for a complete change of pace, i have a revastila song for you - warrior by beth crowley. it somehow manages to capture exactly the dynamic i think of in my head when i think about Bastila, the uncertainty, the forbiddeness of it, but the way Revan ultimately strengthens her and she strengthens Revan

You fascinated me Cloaked in shadows and secrecy The beauty of a broken angel

I ventured carefully Afraid of what you thought I'd be But pretty soon, I was entangled

You take me by the hand I question who I am

uhhhhhh i am desperately trying to think of songs that aren't just about Revan but instead here i am with another Mandalorian Wars Revan song, what did we know by rachel rose mitchell! this song was introduced to me by the same friend who sent me oblivion, and it really captures the fall of the Mandalorian wars incredibly well imo - the way it started with righteousness but ended in pain (compassion leading to destruction and that's a ramble i'm not going on here either), and there's this line in there that i'm not including in my snippet that's what scares me more than anything / if we could choose the past / we'd probably choose the same and it's like. yes! that's it! i'm going to once again go insane over the scene in the Korriban tomb in kotor 2!!! knowing the price.... would you choose to do it all again........ aaaaaaaa

It's been so long since we began. It seems so long ago That in the name of loyalty We started on our own. Answering the call of a house we once called home, We knew that we were right. What did we know?

We swore that we understood this wasn't a game, But somehow we found ourselves fanning the flames. Those who cautioned and abandoned us, they were the same. I saw them turn away.

the final song i'm doing is the song i used when i wrote the Betrayal scene from Malak's pov, the little things give you away by linkin park. this one just. it vibes, it vibes hard, goes really into the actual grief of betrayal, and also has a super epic instrumental solo so there's that. as usual, lyric snippet:

Don't want to reach for me, do you? I mean nothing to you The little things give you away But now there will be no mistaking The levees are breaking

All you've ever wanted Was someone to truly look up to you And six feet under water, I do

All you've ever wanted Was someone to truly look up to you And six feet underground now I Now I do

god okay now that you're completely overwhelmed and never want to talk to me again....... i should've probably put this under a readmore but eh. thanks for the ask!

[chevrolangels]

When My Time Comes

death!cas,  3.3k

Continuing my tradition of posting ~spooky~ fics for Halloween, here’s a little thing with Death!Cas. I know we’re all freaking out with spn ending and a possible looming end for our fave so I hope this is a nice little au reprieve. The title is from 'Work Song' by Hozier, bc I needed to use one of his lyrics for a title eventually.

Enjoy.

read on ao3

The first time Castiel met him, he was crying.

 He beat out with his tiny fists, and his father dragged him away, but not before he managed to swipe at Castiel. His hand passed through him like mist, and Castiel felt a shock, like he had been plunged in icy water. 

 Castiel extended a hand, and he and Mary Winchester walked into the afterlife together.

 “Your son is a feisty one,” he told her.

“Good,” Mary replied. “He'll have to be without his mama.”

◆

“I know what you are.”

A man—boy, really—his hands clenched. He stared at Castiel, anger staining his soul. 

Castiel knew those eyes.

“You’re a reaper,” the man accused.

Castiel did not deny it.

 He simply stood, withdrawing his hands from the body in the alley. 

“That’s one word for what I am.”

The words dragged like rust in Castiel’s throat. It had been some time since he last spoke.

 “I've been searching for you. For years.” 

Castiel looked away, and said nothing. 

 The boy eyed him for several silent moments.

“Why can I see you?” 

 Castiel told him honestly. 

“I don't know.”

 Some of the tension bled from the boy’s shoulders.

“You got a name?” He asked gruffly.

 Castiel nodded.

“My name is Castiel.”

The boy took an abortive step forward, his fingers outstretched. Castiel did not move. 

He reached the outline of where Castiel’s shoulder should be, but touched nothing but air.

His hand dropped. 

“I’m Dean,” he said finally. “Dean Winchester.”

 “I know,” Castiel answered softly. “Hello, Dean.”

◇

“Why can't I touch you?” He asked, the next time they met.

 “Would you like to?”

 Dean thought for a moment, his brow furrowed.

“Yes.”

 Castiel stepped past Dean’s grandfather, lying sick in his bed. Castiel had never done it before, but he saw no reason why it wouldn’t be possible. He extended his arm and thought very hard.

He felt himself solidify, and Dean reached out tentatively, as if Castiel were poisonous. He touched the back of his hand.

His fingers were hot, searing flame, burning brighter than anything Castiel had ever known.

 Until, that is, Dean punched him in the face.

“That was for my ma,” he said.

◆

“I do not cause death,” Castiel said, many months later. “I am merely the link between worlds.”

 Dean lifted his head, shock crossing his pale face. 

“You again.”

His voice was hoarse, weakened through many nights of grief. Tragedy had once again come to their small community, and Castiel could feel Dean’s soul still aching from it.

Castiel stepped forward, looking at the cold form lying before Dean, life now burnt out.

“You were not related to this man,” he said, almost a question.

“No,” Dean answered shortly. 

“Ah.” 

 Castiel looked away. Even after all this time, the nuances of humanity still escaped him.

The silence between them stretched. Castiel furrowed his brow, searching for the appropriate words to use. 

“I’m sorry.”

 Dean said nothing, but his eyes widened, betraying his surprise.

“Dean.” 

Another entered the room, long hair skimming over reddened eyes.

“They want us outside,” the newcomer said, thin, tall, even younger than Dean. “You know. To say a few words.”

 His request was thick, choked. Castiel looked back from his face to Dean’s. Their pain was great, and shared. 

“Yeah, be there soon, Sammy,” Dean answered in a low voice, never taking his eyes off Castiel.

 The boy waited for a moment, eyes sliding towards the spot where Castiel stood, where to him was only empty space.

“You’re not still seeing ghosts, are you?” He asked, smiling wanly. 

His soul flickered, strangely dim. 

“Nah,” Dean answered quietly.

They did not speak after that, even after the boy left the room. Some time later, Dean left too, with a quick nod toward Castiel, so brief he might have missed it.

Castiel watched him go.

Robert Singer sighed, a wistful smile on his face.

“Well,” he said, turning to Castiel. “We’d better get goin’, huh?”

 Castiel nodded.

“Yes,” he said softly. “Let’s.”

◇

Revolution came. Blood ran through the streets and voices cried out in the dawn, the sound of shouts and guns being fired. 

 Dean lay slumped against a building, bleeding in the dirt—a wound in his thigh that desperately needed a doctor. Castiel waited by the dying body of Dean’s compatriot, watching soldiers run past.

Dean saw him and his face went pale.

 “Well, Castiel,” he murmured. “You comin’ to finish me off?”

 He knew. He knew if Castiel was there, it was already too late.

 He passed out soon after from the blood loss. Dean was not to die yet, but soon. Thirty minutes maybe, a stray bullet to the head. He would feel nothing. 

Castiel thought for a moment. Then he did something he was not allowed to do. 

 He picked up the dead comrade’s helmet and slipped it over Dean’s head, brushing the hair back from his glassy green eyes. Then Castiel gently laid him back against the building.

 “Not yet, Dean Winchester,” he whispered.

◆

Castiel was not sure why he did it. But nothing happened. No fire, no brimstone, no splitting of the fabric of time. Whatever cosmic consequences he had incurred lay quiet.

In the hospital, many died. Castiel checked on him frequently. By the seventh death, he was awake.

"Castiel," he whispered. “Cas.”

 The nurse hushed him and quickly turned up his medicine. Dean slipped back under—but not before he grabbed Castiel’s hand.

In sleep, he burns cooler, the swirling ocean during a storm.

◇

Dean sat there, sunken eyes, in a wheelchair. 

War brings out the demons inside.

"Y'know, I'm startin' to think you're following me."

 Castiel frowned. 

"You do not know this man. I believe you are the one following me."

"Yeah, well." Dean turned his head away, scratching at a cheek covered in rough stubble. "I had to thank you, didn't I?"

 Castiel hesitated.

"I did nothing."

"Sure."

 Dean picked at the edge of his bandage. A couple weeks and he'd be able to walk again. 

 "All I'm saying is, it's pretty nice I got the angel of death as my friend."

Castiel let out a small derisive sound.

"I am not an angel."

"Then what are you?"

Castiel thought for a moment.

"I'm not sure."

 Then, something in his words registered. Castiel looked at him curiously. 

 "Friend?"

"Yeah," Dean said. "Friend."

◆

Dean was not there when Castiel took his father. They hadn't spoken in years.

 “So that’s it,” John said flatly.

Castiel nodded.

“Yes.”

 John was silent for a long moment. 

“Guess there’s no talking my way outta this one,” he muttered. “No more deals to make.”

Castiel slowly shook his head.

 John looked back at his own body, tears welling in his eyes.

“Miss my boys,” he mumbled. “I shoulda...shoulda done more. Shoulda done right by them.”

He sighed, staring blankly at his hands.

“Guess it’s too late now.”

 Castiel spoke softly.

“Your son is a fine man.”

“Yeah?” John turned, raising an eyebrow. “How do you know?”

 Castiel avoided his eyes, holding out a hand.

"Come," he said. "Mary is waiting."

◇

"How come I see you so much?”

"Death is everywhere.”

"Then how come your name isn't...y'know. Death?” 

 "There are many old names for things. Everything changes with time."

Silence sat between them, comfortable yet steady.

"Is there a god?" 

"Why would you ask me that?" 

"Dunno. Figured if there was, they'd be your boss."

"If there is, I've never met them.”

“Huh. Told Sammy as much. He still thinks you don’t exist, by the way.”

“People find it hard to believe things they cannot see.”

“Mmm.”

“It’s something I have wondered, many times, Yet it remains mysterious, even to me." 

 Castiel looked down at his hands, the means of his lonely burden.

 "I am merely the ferryman,” he murmured. 

Dean nudged his shoulder.

"So the Greeks were right then?"

"What?"

 Dean rolled his eyes.

 "Never mind."

◆

When his next-door neighbor died on his kitchen floor, Castiel visited Dean. 

He was crying. 

“Dean.”

 He looked up slowly, eyes unfocused.

“My dad’s dead,” he mumbled. Castiel nodded.

“I know.”

 “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Castiel shrugged slowly.

 “I hadn't talked to him,” Dean said, a confession. “Not in years.”

“He mentioned you.”

Dean dropped his head back in his hands, shoulders shaking. Rather than comfort, Castiel’s words seemed to have the opposite effect.

 Castiel stood still for several long moments.

Then he knelt, reached out, and touched his cheek.

Tears clung to Dean’s lashes. He looked up at Castiel, shattered, laid bare, his rough exterior finally split open.

 Dean leaned forward, lips parting.

 This soft, broken man was the edge of a knife, a precipice for which there could be no coming back.

   Castiel brushed a thumb over the freckles dusting his skin—wheat and honey stars in a milky sky. 

And he kissed him.

◇

Dean still burns cool in his sleep. But they've evened out, and now, he feels like warm summer rain in Castiel’s arms. He has stopped shivering when Castiel holds him.

 “What do I look like?” Castiel whispers one night.

They do not have much time left. Castiel has been reckless, pushing the limits further and further each time he stays. He cannot begin to imagine what danger might come from his disobedience.

 “You don't know?”

Dean smiles, and starts to trace the lines of his face.

“You look human. Sorta.”

His fingers dance down Castiel’s jaw, sweeping across his chin.

“But...I look at you, and know you're not...y’know?” He laughs softly. “I can just tell. You're made of something else.”

Dean’s hands skim across Castiel’s bare throat.

“When you’re wearing clothes,” he continues, a hint of mischief in his tone. “It’s always the same ugly-ass coat.”

Castiel makes a small indignant sound.

“It is not ugly.”

“Just saying.”

Dean grins, loose and easy, tangling his fingers in Castiel’s own.

“You could rock the whole badass look. Black cloak, scythe—the whole deal.”

“The scythe was quite cumbersome,” Castiel deadpans.

 Dean looks at him for a moment until he realizes Castiel’s joking—and he laughs.

“And you got one hell of a sense of humor,” he murmurs, leaning in.

 Castiel accepts the kiss, closing his eyes. Despite all he’s seen, all he’s suffered, Dean is still so full of love. The resilience of humans will never fail to astound Castiel, but Dean is something else. 

He pulls back, smiling softly, then reaches up, tugging at Castiel’s hair. 

“This is brown. Really dark brown, almost black. Way darker than mine.” 

Dean looks at him, lowering his voice.

“Your eyes are blue, and they're the prettiest eyes I've ever seen.”

 Castiel catches his hand, pressing a small kiss to his palm.

Dean’s smile fades as he watches Castiel, his chest rising and falling slowly. Castiel’s does not. 

He does not breathe.

 “When I gonna die, Cas?” Dean whispers.

 Castiel goes still. 

Dean searches his face. 

“C’mon,” he says, a slight shake in his voice. “You gotta know.”

Castiel looks at him, and realizes he does not. 

 “I don't,” he says, shocking himself with the words. 

Dean doesn't heed him, barreling on.

“Because when I die, I mean what if—”

He stops, fear in his eyes.

“What if I never see you again?” Dean whispers.

 Castiel cradles Dean’s face in his hand, shaking his head, opening his mouth to whisper false words of comfort. 

That's when he feels a tug at the edges of his being, and he’s being pulled halfway across the world, to the next death. 

 The last thing Castiel sees are Dean’s panicked green eyes, before everything turns to black.

◆

“SAM, NO—”

Dean runs, his scream rending the night air.

“No, no, Sammy—”

He reaches Sam just before he collapses, dropping with him in the wet dirt. 

“Dean—” Sam chokes out, as the perpetrator runs away with his crime into the dark. “I’m—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Hey, hey, no—it’s okay, alright?” Dean tries to pull him up, support him, even as Sam falls to his knees, slumping forward. “You’re fine—it’s fine, it’s not even that bad, it’s not—”

Dean cuts off. He lifts a shaky hand from the wet patch spreading over Sam’s back, seeing it come away covered in slick red.

“Shit,” he breathes lowly.

Sam says something, jagged and garbled in his throat. Dean shushes him, hands coming to his face. 

“No, no, Sammy, you’re gonna be fine—we faced worse before, you just need to—”

 Sam’s face is ashen white, his eyes starting to slip closed. Dean gasps back a choked breath.

 “C’mon, Sammy,” he begs. “Come on.”

He looks around, to cry for help, for something, anything—

And he sees Castiel.

 “No,” Dean breathes.

  “I'm sorry, Dean,” Castiel whispers.

  “No,” Dean snarls again, gripping the back of his brother's jacket.

He doesn't have long. Samuel Winchester’s heart is pushing the blood out of him, slowly but surely. It won't take more than a few minutes.

   Castiel takes a few steps forward, but Dean jerks back, dragging Sam backward, shielding him with his own body. 

 Dean meets Castiel’s eyes. He's broken. 

“No, Cas,” he whispers. “Please, no.”

Castiel’s hands tremble.

“I have to.”

Sam breathes in raggedly.

“Just a few more years,” Dean whispers. “Please.”

“I can’t,” Castiel answers softly. “Death demands life.”

“One year, just one year, c’mon, at least give him something—”

Dean stops, choking back sobs. His breath spirals silently into the night air, the ground slick with rain and blood.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Castiel murmurs.

 He kneels beside them and places a hand on Sam’s forehead. 

Dean watches, bone-white and utterly defeated. 

Sam gasps.

“Dean,” he murmurs. “I...I see him.”

 Dean looks down at him, shocked out of his stupor.

“Y-yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Sam whispers. “Your angel...Cas.” 

Dean nods silently, tears dripping down thick and fast.

“He was real after all,” Sam mumbles, his head drooping onto Dean's chest.

 Dean stares down at his brother’s pale face, hands clenched in the loose folds of his jacket.

Seconds, now.

 Castiel closes his eyes. He has no heart, but he’s sure this is what it feels like when it breaks. 

“Take me.”

Castiel looks up sharply.

Dean’s jaw is set, his eyes are firm. 

 “Take me instead,” he orders again.

Castiel stutters, fear constricting his throat.

“Dean, I—”

 He stops, shaking his head. 

“I can’t,” he whispers.

“Bullshit, you can’t,” Dean spits back. “You saved me.”

 “I—”

 His argument dies in his throat. 

As Castiel beholds him, stares into Dean’s eyes—his fate is murky, the truth to Castiel lost in shadow.

  Dean reaches out, catching the edge of Castiel’s sleeve.

"Please," he begs. "Please, Cas."

  Castiel shudders, and looks back to Sam’s pale face.

“And you would leave him here alone?” He swallows thickly. “Without you.”

 Dean is silent for a long moment. When Castiel finally musters the courage to look back at him, his normally carefree face is drawn tight, resignation heavy on his shoulders.

“I ain’t supposed to be here, Cas,” he whispers. “I felt it. Ever since…”

 Castiel knows. 

Ever since he ripped up the rules, leaving nothing.

  “I was supposed to die,” Dean says quietly. “Maybe I should. “

Sam’s breathing slows, his face grows slack.

Dean tightens his grip, knuckles white. 

“It’ll be hard for him at first,” he breathes, looking down at Sam. “For—for both of us. But I know he’ll understand.”

 Castiel cannot think. Dean cannot fathom what he’s asking of him.

 “Cas.”

 Dean’s voice breaks on his name.

“Cas—please,” he whispers. 

A soft touch on his cheek.

 “We’ll see each other again,” Dean breathes, swallowing thickly. “R-right?”

Castiel folds his hand over Dean’s. 

“Right,” he whispers, but he’s not sure if it's true.

He slowly places his other hand on Sam’s, and looks up into Dean’s eyes. He nods, just once.

Sam bolts upright, just as Dean slumps over, the light fading from his eyes.

 Castiel sags, the transfer of energy leaving him weak. It's like watching a film in reverse—Sam rises dazedly, and when he understands what has occurred, he is the one now shaking his brother’s lifeless body, agony in his voice.

“Dean!” He calls, looking around wildly. “Castiel, you son of a bitch, don’t you dare—bring him back—”

He continues raging, cursing Castiel in one breath and begging for help in the next.

 “I’m sorry, Sam,” Dean whispers.

Sam stills, hiccuping.

“Be good, alright?” Dean continues softly. “You keep fighting. And take care of my wheels.”

Sam drops his head, stifling a choked laugh. Dean smiles, sad and bittersweet.

“Remember what Dad taught you, okay?” He murmurs. “And what I taught you.”

 Behind them, a soft white light begins to glow, banishing the obscure dark. Sam does not notice, or see. He is too caught up in his grief, mourning over a now-empty shell.

The universe demanded the soul of a Winchester, and it got one. Yet a life traded for another cannot move on. 

Castiel knows this. 

Beside him, Dean’s hand finds his.

Castiel shivers. Not candle-warm, like the other souls he’s helped cross over. Dean’s hand is as cold as his own.

 “Let's go, Cas,” Dean whispers. “I can't see this.”

They turn away, Castiel giving one last look to the brother they’re leaving behind.

 And they walk forward into the light.

◆◇

Castiel’s work has always been demanding. Souls dying everywhere across the globe, some within the same second. 

 With two, the job is somewhat easier. 

◇◆

She opens her eyes. She must’ve slipped under again, a brief respite from the pain.

She sits up and is surprised to find the motion does not hurt her. In fact, nothing hurts anymore. Instead, she feels only lightness.

“Well, you sure took your sweet time.”

   She turns, startled to see a man standing at the foot of her bed.

He clicks his tongue, pulling back the edge of a leather glove to tap a shining watch on his wrist.

“We’re late enough as it is,” he says expectantly. “And I don’t got all day, seeing as my brother’ll kill me if I don’t get to visit him again.”

He thinks a moment, then chuckles, a wry smile playing around his lips.

“Well.” He smirks. “He would if he could.”

 She blinks a few times, bewildered.

“Who are you?” 

 The man ignores her question, removing his gloves completely. He’s tall, impeccably dressed in a dark suit and black cloak. 

“Tessa, right?”

He smiles, extending a hand.

On his fourth finger is a ring, white ivory in a square setting.

 Tessa doesn’t move.

“I’m dead.”

 The man winks.

“Bingo,” he answers. “Or ‘condolences’, as Cas would say.”

 Before she can ask what that's supposed to mean, the man quickly checks his watch again, speaking brusquely.

“Okay, but seriously, come on.” He jerks his head, nodding over his shoulder. You’d think we’d have all the time in the world, but turns out we run on a very tight schedule.”

Tessa eyes him warily.

“And...where are we going?” 

“Y’know.” The man gestures vaguely. “On. As they say.”

“On,” she repeats.

 The man smirks.

“Yeah. Dust in the wind and all that.”

She frowns.

“What?”

“It’s a—” The man stops, waving an impatient hand. “You know what—never mind.”

 He turns, beckoning once again. Seeing no other option, Tessa falls into step beside him. 

Before them is a warm silver light, growing brighter by the second.

They reach the threshold of what seems to be a shimmering door, a gateway.

Tessa takes a deep breath. Despite everything, she is not afraid. 

 She looks back at her strange shepherd, gathering her courage.

“So.”

He glances up, raising an eybrow.

“You’re Death,” she says.

 The man chuckles, once again pulling on his black gloves.  

"Sure am," he answers, smiling. "Well—"

He shrugs.

"One of them, anyway.”

 He turns, holding a hand out for her to shake.

“You can call me Dean.”

◆◇

[aresrl]

I hihi I am!!! A little nervous w/ doing this bc I've never done this b4 so please bear🐻 w// me💦 May I request a match up? A vision, a romantic partner and maybe a friend and/or enemy? If that's too much feel free to just assign me a vision + partner, ehe/// Preferably male for a romantic match-up, but either gender is fine with a friend and enemy match-up^^ I tried to be as detailed as possible but I think I ended up just ranting, so im v v sorry if it's long! I sort of fluctuate when it comes to being an introvert/extroverted. W// strangers and irl, I'm very introverted and shy!! Rarely speak and if I do it's just the usual "Hi how are you? That's good. I'm good too, thank you for asking:)" yeayea I'm not too. Keen on social interaction irl. But I always do my best to be very nice!! I never wanna come off as mean bc wow what a bad first impression that would be. But with friends / ppl ik online?? Whew I am very very friendly n chatty ^^ Either very high energy or very chill, there's rarely any inbetween. Sometimes I like to jokingly tease my friends but I'd never go too far / make them uncomfortable!! And if I do I always apologize right away!! I like to say that I'm affectionate?? My strongest love language is def physical affection, if not quality time. Idk man there's just something about vibing with someone or hugging them that just aaaaa/// Although I usually display affection w// words of affection bc. Literally most of my friends are online friends so I can't actually hug them, sad times. Idk if this is needed/important info but I just remembered: I'm 5'6 around??? Need glasses bc. Whew i am blind (near sighted), I'm poc (specifically black) anndd, hm. Actually I think thats it for this section, aha. As you can see I'm, not really all that organized. Also I don't have the best attention span - while writing this I'm circling between 4 different apps - and I'm a bit of a mess. And also a little stupid. Just a smidge dumb. But I have my moments - I solved like. 2 puzzles in Inazuma by myself so I think that counts for something. I also find that I tend to talk a whole lot when I have an idea or smthn to say abt a thing I'm super interested in!! That's info-dumping. I info dump. Yes. I also really like to listen to other people talk abt things they like!!!! Its so nice :) I'm protective over people I care about!! I've never done it but 100% would bark at someone who messed with someone close to be. Arf arf yaknow. I tend to he impulsive. I'll do something, and be all "YEAH>:D" and then regret it later. And then I'll do it all over again in a fun little cycle :) I consider myself an optimist, but quickly turn into a pessimist whenever it concerns myself. Fun funfun. Should probably mention that I am. A very insecure person w/ dangerously low self esteem, which is super fun esp when you mix that with the fact that I'm rarely ever motivated to improve. Yayayay Also sort of a pushover?? Like most often than not I'll be convinced to do something, even if I'm not too keen on doing it. Also afraid of confrontation when it comes to my friends and strangers (that is, if it's concerning me!! I'll order smthn for my friend but if I need to order for myself?? uhh stutter time aha). I'm also a mega simp ahah! Srsly though if I fall for someone/get infatuated with someone I. Will be so obvious abt it even though I try very hard not to be. Would gush over that person probably. I don't really like mean people tbh. Like yes I'll be nice and civil with them but!!! I cannot stand!!! Rude people!!! Esp when they're mean for no reason like sir??? maam??? homie??? chill pls ty<3 People who aren't necessarily mean, but moreso have bastard energy and are just really "hehe>:D" but playfully are p poggers tho!!! I think I get along with kids!! I have a little sister,, around like. Nine? And we get along really well!! I also try and match a kid's energy whenever I'm tasked with looking after them. I take pride in the fact that kids like me >:].... even if they sometimes scare me-- Ok, interest time!!

I like art!! Quite a bit!! Less of a realistic artist and more of a cartoonist!! Idk there's just something fun abt drawing cartoons, hehe. I also like self ships - I have quite a bit of them, actually ! Idk its comforting drawings your fictional crushes loving you idkidk. I like writing too! Both original stories, and one-shots or personal fics that are associated with already created media!! Writing character backstories and personalities and stuff is also fun too! I've even made my own fictional world with a full fledged backstory n everything! It's very fun to think about. I'm a day dreamer!!! Yea remember when I said I write stories? I day dream abt potential stories even more. Mmm daydream world so nice so warm so fun I read aswell!! Mostly fantasy books, or stories where animals are the protagonists. Think Warrior Cats. But my favorite book series has got to be Guardians of Ga'Hoole. Fantasy owl books, anyway! X Readers are also things I enjoy reading :) Again, s I m p Also gaming!!! Is something fun I do sometimes!!! Although it's usually Genshin Impact, or Wii Sports/Resort w// my little sister. Oh, also pokemon! I rlly like Primarina, Vaporeon, Sylveon and Vulpix/Ninetails! I absolutely adore sweet foods, and baking is smthn I'm def interested in! Don't like foods w// weird textures though, like beans or mashed potatoes. Also I. Love spice so much. Mmm love it when my mouth burns so bad. Don't have a favorite animal but I've had three cats in my lifetime (btw not important but my current cat is named Sylvester and. He's my baby boy) so I am. A very big cat fan. Probably not needed but I really like sword and claymore characters. Literally all of the characters I main are either sword or claymore users. Although I did get Diona, so I miiight start forcing myself to learn how to aimmm. I see that I tend to like people/characters that are a little more extroverted than me. Upbeat, happy type beat!!! Nice sunshine babies, :) I think thats it! I hope this was good enough? Again, first time doing this (at 2am nonetheless) so forgive me if I got too rambly or did anything wrong ^^ Thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this! And I hope your day is good / you had a good day, depending on when you read this, ehe!

Hey! Sorry if the wait has been long! I also love Warrior Cats (I promise myself, one day I'll finish it.)

You received... A Pyro vision! Optimistic, enthusiastic, impulsive, reckless, and a lot of energy are the general characteristics held by the Pyro vision. • I hesitated between the Pyro and Hydro vision, but your energy distinguishes you from the Hydro vision. • You said you were impulsive, always doing something you might regret later but still doing it. • You react quickly: as you said, if somebody hurt someone you love, you won't think twice before barking. Your partner would be... Xingqiu! “This feeling was unexpected.” • At first, you were just friends, and Xingqiu really loved to tease you. Actually, you both teased each other. But eventually, a feeling of love towards you grew into Xingqiu. And that was reciprocated. • Your relationship is filled with teases, jokes, and good/funny moments where you mostly share what you commonly appreciate. • He also knows when to get serious: for example, he does everything to support you during your moments of struggle concerning your self-esteem. Your friend would be... Childe! “Luckily, I'm here!” • You two also share funny moments, especially during situations where your “stupidity” is overtaken by his insight. • Sometimes, he finds you cute. • He likes the fact that you get along well with kids. It leads you to great moments with him and his siblings. • You're quite the opposite in terms of self-esteem. I think it's a good thing because it makes you complementary. Your enemy would be... Albedo! A misunderstanding. • You wouldn't hate each other, but I think Albedo wouldn't like the way you use your energy, and when you're more in a chill mood (meaning you're more available for him to talk), he could get pissed at how much times he'd have to repeat himself for you to understand something. • He's very patient, but he understood quickly that his interests would maybe not be within your reach. • You would just be too different. Worth to mention • You and Venti are like drama queens in Mondstadt. You are good friends. But you both know that you can't be more, as it would eventually both drag you down (because of similar problems). • Klee is also your best friend: both of you share decisions that you definitely will regret later. Or maybe not. • Hu tao and you are kinds of silently competing over who's the best tease, and she beats you. My goal is definitely not achieved. I hope I can catch up tomorrow. And don't worry, it was surprisingly good for a first description!

[finitevoid]

Favourite headcanons for Jayvie? Favourite AU ideas for Rotten OT4? Rant about Marlos!! What kind of dates do you think Jal would go on? ♥♥

yesssss yes YESSS

favorite hcs for jayvie:

so a lot of people like to have evie be like, super involved in auradon politics and going to balls in fancy dresses and endearing the royals to her and then by extension the vks and like. mmm jay should go with her. like okay. jayvie in matching outfits being all beautiful and charming and endearing the auradonians to them... manipulating the royals into thinking that they’re nice, upstanding young people and just not mentioning all th e Crimes they used to commit... its perfection ajd I’ve wanted to write a fic about this for like. AGES

but also okay jay definitely models evies clothes for her and when she gets bigger and does things like have a business Instagram she’s always dressing him up in her clothes and doing his hair and taking pictures of him and like forcing everyone to look at her boyfriend :). she does it to mal and carlos too but they like don’t like they’re picture taken v much whereas jay lives for the attention like the king that he is so he’s ALWAYS happy to model for her

favorite au ideas for rotten ot4:

oh man oh MAN. okay uuuh lightning round

-way back I had this idea for a set of one shots where i retold the heroes’ stories but this time w the rotten 4 as the protagonists ie Snow White retold except evie is the princess and 101 dalmations retold except carlos is the protagonist etc and it never went anywhere but man I loved that idea

-I remember thinking of a heist movie au where evie and jay would dress up and be all fancy to Infiltrate The Enemy meanwhile carlos and mal would sit in the van. like carlos was the one Hacking The Mainframe and shit whereas mal would come in guns blazing if shit went sideways for jay and evie

-im a sucker for normal modern day highschool aus where like the 4 get sent to Auradon Boarding School and are like. H.

-urban fantasy starring djinn!jay, faerie!mal, witch!evie and of course, our favorite Normal Human Dude, carlos

-I had this one scifi au I concepted where jal were your classic space mercanaries, carlos was an escaped convict for space infractions and evie was the princess of a planet that she abandoned bc Grimhilde. I need to revisit that one

marlos:

marlos. marlos. hnmtnrjewjakak i love them okay. like. the kabedon. we ALWAYS talk about the kabedon but let’s talk about the implications of the kabedon. mal is sitting there, fantasizing about what is, by every means, her ideal life. she’s trying to actively escape how she feels like she’s on the fresh layer of hell by fantasizing about her and rotten four starting shit and pranking people and causing mischief. and the first the FIRST thing she imagines is carlos in a funky ass leather jacket walking up to her and getting all up in her face slamming the lockers behind her head. dare I say horny? LISTENN. she is dating the king. and she’s sitting around like. imagining carlos pulling pranks with her. effervescent. ben needs to watch out. carlos doesn’t even have to do anything and she’s like fantasizing about him. fucking hilarious

(insert obligatory carlos is being mr-steal-your-girl joke here)

but like let’s talk let’s DISCUSS their actual dynamic shall we. so in d1 we can actually see a lot of them interacting but in like, subtle ways. mal is the leader of the gang, as we all know right so when carlos is scared or nervous he looks to mal for support, and in the second scene of d1 when maleficent is practically throwing mal around the room theres this Look between carlos and mal where they look at each other, terrified, and then carlos ducks behind his mother to avoid maleficent. and, of course, a moment in d1 that makes me go utterly batshit is when fairy godmother does like jazz hands when they exit the limo and mals first reaction is to shield carlos and jay with her arms. protective mal. PROTECTIVE MAL

but listen. my all time fav scene with them (other than girltalk obvs) is right before mal gives him the truth gummy in d2. she’s freaking out and hides out in the boys room when carlos is in it, read: she feels safe there. 2. when she’s romanticizing the isle, carlos is having absolutely none. of. it. nobody else really challenges the way she’s thinking like carlos is. carlos is like, reminding her that the isle was painful and traumatic for him, and for her, and she sort of wilts under that logic. (and even the part later on with the gummy holds a special place in my heart because when chad comes like waltzing in and mal is just sort of standing there looking annoyed and carlos is like. get out of my room chad. is peak marlos they’re so salty okay!) (also the fact that chad doesn’t question mals presence in carlos and jays room at all? lmfao? like I know you know we all know that boys and girls can hang out and have it not be romantic but chads an insufferable straight man so I find it amusing that he didn’t point that out)

dates jal would go on:

one of my weaknesses for the rotten ot4 is definitely all of them going to jay’s tourney games so DEFINITELY that and and oh my god I am WEAK for mal wearing jay’s jersey on game day tbh but but I loooove the idea of mal playing tourney too? thanks to @fuck-you-i-am-spiderman it’s all your fault. so them practicing together like YES (and evie and carlos wearing their jerseys on game day but shh shh that’s rotten ot4 we’re talking about JAL)

mal isnt super romantic or anything but jay definitely is and he’ll do shit like get her flowers just to make her blush and be like. you shithead this is stupid flowers are stupid. and jay’s like awww but i love u:( I’m just showing my affection babe. and she’s like SHOW IT LESS STUPID. but she secretly likes the romantic shit when it’s not tooooo extreme it makes her feel loved and thought of:)

but I wouldn’t say their dates are like ur average going to a restaurant type thing maaaaybe seeing a movie together but I think it’s more likely to be like. mal’s like jay come with me into the woods I’m looking for an herb evie needs for her potions. and jay’s like ok let’s go and then they end up racing through the forest and wrestling on the ground for a while (and then making out probably lol) before they go back. and then as soon as they’re in vicinity to anyone else mal pretends like she’s above playfighting like jay and carlos do. but jay knows.

[mss4msu]

I Don’t Care

Summary: Bucky doesn’t care what kind of social event tortures he must go through, so long as he has you by his side.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 2536

Timeline: This takes place after the events of Winter Soldier, but ignores the team fighting bits of Civil War and everything else that happened after it bc I want a happy Bucky.

Warnings: Language

A/N: Every time I listen to “I Don’t Care” by Ed Sheeran w/ Justin Bieber I think of how well it would work as a Bucky fic, so I had to write it so I can listen to the song without thinking up stories and can actually get to the two 15 page papers I have due in like a week. 

(I incorporated the lyrics of the song into the story in the order they appear in the song. They’re noted in bold. If you dig it, check out my other story We Never Go Out of Style)

Another successful mission, another elaborate Stark party. The first party had been casual, everyone showed up freshly showered from the mission. The second party had a buffet, rather than bowls of chips everywhere. Next came the waiters passing drinks. Now every party required cocktail attire and they seemed more like galas than opportunities to unwind. Bucky loathed them. He almost wished he could just go back into the ice after every mission if it meant not having to make small talk with people he didn’t even know.

“Why the long face, Buck? You look like you just fought a whole slew of Hydra agents and hardly got time to shower,” Steve laughed, hitting Bucky on the shoulder.

Of course what Steve had described was exactly what had happened.

“Funny, Steve. I’m a party I don’t wanna be at. And the fact we have to dress up is ridiculous. I don’t ever wear a suit and tie unless it’s at one of these dumbass things. It’s not like I finish a mission and think, ‘yeah, I’d love to go surround myself with strangers.’  I’m just wonderin’ if I could sneak out the back. Aside from you, nobody’s even lookin’ me in my eyes.”

Steve gave Bucky a knowing look. If he was being honest with himself, he would also rather be able to just relax after a mission and decompress in silence. Steve snapped out of it when he saw one of his WWII veteran friends wave him over.

“Sorry, Bucky. Stan looks like he needs me. Just chill in the corner like usual, you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, right,” Bucky muttered under his breath as Steve walked away.

“Enjoying yourself, James?” you asked as you walked up to the super soldier.

Whenever you called him by his name, he felt his heart flutter, “You know I’m not.”

“Looks like it,” you smiled at him.

When you had joined the Avengers 5 years ago, you hadn’t even known about the Winter Soldier. After proving yourself to Steve during the fall of SHIELD, he had brought you onto his small team to go searching for the other super soldier, who you soon learned was James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes. You knew their whole history, and it became almost a mantra during your searches for him, “Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steven Rogers were inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield.” You had been behind the scenes when Steve found Bucky after the Accords disaster, but you were on the frontlines of his “de-programming” in Wakanda. You had been with him through all the pain of unlearning the trigger words and had helped him adjust to a domestic life. It hadn’t taken you long to fall in love with him; it had been even easier for him to fall in love with you. After Bucky was officially cleared of the Winter Soldier programming, you were charged to help him get settled back in New York. Tony had offered him a room in Stark Tower, but he wanted to have an escape from the Avengers. You offered to get an apartment with him and he immediately agreed. You shared a small, 1 bedroom apartment, just across the street from where Steve lived.

“Alright, enough moping then,” you demanded, putting your left hand in his right.

“Oh, you think you can come over here, take my hand, and I’ll suddenly feel better?” He did feel better, but he wasn’t going to tell you that.

You grabbed his drink and chugged what was left of it.

“And you finish my drink to top it all off?” he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Say, shall we dance?” you looked up into his eyes and saw the wrinkles of his furrowed brow dissipate.

Bucky took a deep breath, “Hell, yeah,” as much as he hated the parties, he could never disappoint you.

You pulled him onto the dance floor, his grip tightening as you maneuvered your way around other couples. You finally found a space large enough to dance and turned to face him. He was red in the face, and you knew just the walk to the dance floor had been enough to re-stress him out. You pulled your left hand apart from his and placed it on his shoulder. You then went to take his left hand in your right, but he had hidden it behind his back.

“Mr. Barnes,” you said sternly, “Give me it.”

Red crept into his cheeks as he slowly placed his metal hand in your small, flesh one.

“I hate when you do that,” you said, pulling him closer to you, glad that you had put heels on so you could whisper into his ear.

“I….I...just…” He stammered.

“It’s been how many years and you’re still pulling this bullshit?” you pulled back slightly so you could look into his eyes, “Cut the crap, soldier.”

A slight smile broke through his lips, “You know I love you, did I ever tell ya?”

“You may have mentioned it once or twice,” you smiled back.

“You make it all better like that,” he snapped his metal fingers before wrapping them around yours.

You danced for a few songs, but when the band finished, Bucky basically dragged you back against the wall. He looked around the room, taking in all of the conversations between different groups around the room. Most of the Avengers were speaking with large hand gestures and gaining big laughs.

Bucky turned to you, “You know, I don’t think I fit in at this party. Everyone’s got so much to say.”

“Yeah? And you don’t? You’ve got plenty of stories to share,” you replied.

“Those are the Winter Soldier’s stories, they aren’t mine. Most of my life isn’t mine. I always feel like I’m nobody.”

“Mmm,” you hummed, thinking, “But who wants to fit in anyway?”

“’Cause...” he began but trailed off. He then shrugged his shoulders, “That’s true I guess, it helps that I don’t care when I’m with my baby,” he put his hand around your waist and pulled you into him.

“Oh?” you looked up into his eyes, seeing them looking softer than you had seen all night.

“Yeah, you make all the bad things disappear. And you’re making me feel like maybe I am somebody.”

“Good,” you moved in front of him and grabbed his face, pulling him into a deep kiss.

“You truly are the best, you know that?”

“I do, but tell me more,” you mused at him.

“I don’t have as many nightmares sleeping with you. I can deal with the bad nights much better now.”

“I’ve noticed,” you smiled.

“Everything's better when I’m with my baby,” he pulled you in for another kiss.

“Yeah?” you asked.

“Oh yeah, cause I don’t care about anything else as long as you just hold me near you. You can take me anywhere, the dance floor, a mission, anywhere, and I’ll follow happily. You’re making me feel like I’m loved by somebody.”

You grinned at him, “You know, I’ve had some bad nights too in the past, and I can deal with the bad nights when I’m with you too. My own nightmares fade away when I wake up next to you.”

“I love you, baby,” he kissed you again.  

Weeks went by without a mission that required all of the Avengers. Bucky had become more calm, knowing it meant that he could return home to you and not have to socialize at another party. Just as he was finally getting comfortable hanging out in small groups after missions, a 2 week op that required the whole team was called. Bucky wanted you to go with, but you had other assignments now.

“Babe, I’m not your handler anymore. Yeah it sucks, but you’ve got Steve and Sam. You’ll be ok,” you had reassured him before he left. Of course it pained you to be away from him that long with no communication, but one of you had to put on the brave face for the both of you.

The mission dragged on and you had no word from anyone. Maria Hill tried to reassure you, but with Fury gone on the mission too, she was just as nervous as you. Two weeks turned into three and you became overwhelmed with worry. Sitting in your and Bucky’s apartment as the third week came to a close, you were trying to calm yourself down by watching movies when you heard the front door open. You grabbed your gun out of caution and hid behind a wall, prepared to attack.

“You home, doll?” you heard Bucky call to you.

You ran to the front door and threw your arms around him.

“Oh thank god,” you couldn’t help the tears welling up in your eyes, “I thought something had gone horribly wrong.”

“It did, I wasn’t with you,” he smiled, you could see tears forming.

“That was so cheesy, but I love it,” you held him tighter, not wanting to let go.

You only broke apart when you heard your phone ringing from the other room, playing the ringtone reserved for Tony.

“Tony? Everything ok?” you asked with a sense of urgency.

“No, it isn’t. Where are you two? Post-mission party starts in 15 minutes.” Tony yelled into the phone.

Your heart sank, while you didn’t hate the celebration parties like Bucky did, you hadn’t seen him in 3 weeks and there were other things you wanted to do with him then stand in the corner of a room.

“Oh, shit, we’ll be there soon,” you replied, quickly hanging up before Tony could answer.

“Who was that?” Bucky asked, coming into the room and immediately flopping down on the couch.

“Tony. We have a party to be at,” you said, to which Bucky let out a long moan.

“I know babe, but it’s part of the job,” you sighed, trying to pull him up from the couch so he could get ready.

Bucky wouldn’t budge, so you went to get yourself ready and threw a suit at him. 10 minutes later, you were out the door and on your way to Stark Tower. You showed your badges to get past security and got into the elevator.

“I’m sorry, doll, but I really don’t want to be here,” Bucky said as you ascended.

“I know, Bucky, but we really don’t have a choice and we don’t have to stay long,” you replied as the elevator doors opened.

As you exited the elevator, you saw that the room was already full. A couch along the wall was open and Bucky led you to it. The music seemed louder than usual, and you both spent a few minutes looking around the room to see who was there. Nat seemed to be missing.

“Where’s Nat?” you asked Bucky.

“What?” he yelled back.

“Where is Nat?” you said louder.

“What?” he yelled again.

“Nevermind,” you yelled to him.

Bucky moved closer to you, speaking directly into your ear, “We’re at a party we don’t wanna be at. And it’s so loud in here, keep tryna talk, but we can’t hear ourselves. When can we leave?”

“I don’t know, Buck. Read my lips instead?”

“Read your lips? I’d rather kiss ‘em,” he pulled away slightly so you could see him smirking at you.

“If you did that, I’d be force to kiss yours right back.”

Bucky looked away from you for a second and instantly tensed up.

“James, are you ok?”

“This room really filled up.”

You scanned the room. There seemed to be even more people in attendance than last time. While Bucky had gotten comfortable around the Avengers, he still had trouble in large groups of strangers after having a manhunt called on him years ago.

“But with all these people all around, I’m crippled with anxiety. All I wanted was to come home and be with you, but no. I’m sick of these parties. I’m so tired of being told it’s where I’m s’posed to be.”

You slowly ran your hand up and down his back, trying to calm him down. Sometimes your touch worked better than your words, “I know James, but after this is over we can go home and just lay on the couch and watch a movie and fall asleep in each other’s arms and it’ll all be fine.”

“You know what?” he looked back at you, and gave you a small smile, “It’s kinda crazy how you can talk me down.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, ‘cause I really don’t mind when you make it better like that.”

“It?”

“Everything,” he leaned over and kissed your forehead.

“You know, I don’t think we fit in at this party,” you laughed, looking around again.

Everyone was either dancing, yelling to each other, or heavily drinking while you and Bucky were cozied up together on a couch just taking it all in.

“Yeah, everyone’s got so much to say over there,” Bucky motioned to where Tony and Rhodey were trying, once again, to lift Thor’s hammer.

“Oh yeah,” you laughed. “Yeah, I doubt anyone on this team can lift that hammer, except maybe Steve,” your eyes wandered to the other super soldier in the room who was laughing with his veteran friends.

“You know, when we walked in, I said I’m sorry, because I didn’t want to be here.”

“Mmm?” you questioned.

“But now I think that we should stay?”

“Oh? What made you change your mind.”

“Cause I don’t care when I’m with my baby,” Bucky said, reaching into his jacket pocket.

“Yeah?” you asked, your heart starting to race.

“You make all the bad things disappear, and yeah, I’m a handful, I know it, but you’re making me feel like maybe I am somebody. I can deal with the bad nights when I’m with you. I’d never want anyone else in my life but my baby. Yeah, things won’t always be easy, but that’s ok, ‘cause I don’t care as long as you just hold me near. And I’m working towards being better and no I don’t like these massive parties, but you can take me anywhere, because as long as you’re with me I’m happy. I don’t like nobody but you, and when we’re at these stupid things, it’s like you’re the only one here with me. You just get me and I get you,” Bucky took a small box from his pocket and got down on one knee.

“I don’t like nobody but you, and I’ll never love anybody but you. Will you marry me?” Bucky opened the box, revealing a ring.

Tears were welled up in your eyes, “Yes, James. Of course, always, yes!”

He put the ring on your finger and you kissed him harder than you ever had before. You looked around the room and it didn’t seem as though anyone had even noticed a major life-changing event occurring right before them.

“You know, I hate everyone here. They didn’t even notice this,” you flashed your new ring at Bucky, “Let’s get out of here?”

“Thank god, yes. I was lying before. I did want to leave,” he grabbed your hand, rushed you out of the party, and took you home to celebrate.  

Bucky Barnes Tag List:

@basementcafe @ria132love @courtmr @jobean12-blog

Permanent Tag List:

@sophiealiice​​ @mrsdeanwinchester19​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @ailynalonso15​ @221bshrlocked​ @hazellnut94 @libbymouse @nerdypinupcrystal @hufflepuffchloe

[jae-bummer]

Time in the Sun

Request: Can you do a Xiumin fic where you get sick/in an accident so he takes a hiatus to take care of you and considers leaving the group bc he enjoys temporarily living a normal life with you? It can be angst or fluff and how it ends up to you :)

Pairing: EXO’s Xiumin x Reader (ft. Jongdae)

Genre: Angst/Fluff

“I can do it,” you hissed between labored breaths. Attempting to ease yourself into the wheelchair seemed like an easy challenge until you actually began doing it. 

“I know you can,” Minseok chuckled. “I’m just helping.” 

“But I don’t need-” you groaned, losing your balance. Gripping onto his shoulder, you pushed your weight onto him. He staggered a bit before recovering, holding you in his strong arms, and easing you toward your new mode of transport. 

“What don’t you need?” he hummed with a small smile. Tilting his head as he looked upon you fondly, he placed his hand atop of yours. “Certainly you weren’t going to say Minseok?”

“Of course I wasn’t,” you grumbled. “His help on the other hand...” 

“Oh, you’ll be needing his help,” the nurse clucked from behind him. Swiveling his shoulders, he moved so you could see the sudden appearance of the medical worker. “You’ll be needing all of the help you can get.” 

“I’ll be able to manage just fine,” you huffed. “He has work.” 

“And he can take off work,” Minseok hummed, patting you lightly on the shoulder. “You broke both of your legs, Y/N.” 

“And some toes,” the nurse sighed as she glanced over your paperwork. “What were you doing anyway?” 

“It involved being invited to a roller rink for a birthday party,” MInseok muttered. “Chaos ensued.” 

“I quickly discovered that “Crack the Whip” is a game for those much younger than I,” you grumbled. 

“Serves you right then,” the nurse clucked. “You should know better.” 

“I’ll show you what you should know better,” you grumbled beneath your breath, causing Minseok to turn a wary eye in your direction. 

“Here are care instructions,” the nurse sighed, seemingly not hearing your comment. She handed them over to Minseok who nodded attentively. “We’ll need you to see an orthopedist within the next few days to confirm what we’ve seen and come up with a treatment plan. We’ve also included a list of recommended doctors.

Right now we have you in walking boots to keep your bones stable and protected until the actual orthopedist decides if he wants to put you into casts or-”

“Casts?” you croaked. “How can I move around in two casts?” 

“How can you move around now?” Minseok hummed. “That’s why I helped you into the wheelchair.” 

“No way,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “This isn’t going to cut it. How am I expected to be self sufficient if I can’t even walk around?” 

“You’ll be needing a lot of help,” the nurse nodded. “But luckily, it looks like you have a good support system.” 

Minseok nodded in unison, glancing proudly from the nurse and toward you. 

“Oh, do I?” you whined. “He’s a musician. He has schedules and he-” 

“And he can have a break,” Minseok hissed, his expression urging you to quit talking. “Really.” 

Rolling your eyes, you stuck out your lower lip, and crossed your arms. “We’ll see.” 

And you did see. 

Once you had visited the orthopedist, and it was confirmed that you would need a cast on both legs, Minseok had gone into doting, parent mode. It was hard to go anywhere without the man by your side, granted, he was the one pushing your wheelchair most of the time. After four weeks you would hopefully be able to stand on your own two feet again, but you wouldn’t know until the time came. 

And until that time came, Minseok pretty much lived at your apartment. 

“Do you want cheese in your eggs?” Minseok called over his shoulder, running the hand that he wasn’t holding a spatula with through his hair. “I just put on another pot of coffee. It’s a new blend I got from the-”

Your mind had long since trailed from his initial question as you teetered on the bar stool behind him. You glanced along his shoulders, bare around his tank top. The sight was enough to cause you to choke on your orange juice. You were never quite sure how he looked so good even straight from bed. 

Then again, due to recent events, you had never seen him straight from bed before. 

Straight from...your bed. 

Shaking your head, you attempted to toss the inappropriate thoughts away from your mind. You didn’t realize when you broke both of your legs that it would simultaneously be the best and worst thing to have ever happened to you. While you were hardly mobile on your own, you did have the added bonus of Minseok constantly handling things you would normally do. Your relationship had honestly never been stronger, but then again, you had spent more time together now than you ever had. 

“Hello, earth to Y/N,” Minseok laughed, waving the spatula in front of your face. 

“Cheese!” you spluttered. 

“So...was that a scream for or against cheese?” he asked, lifting a brow. 

“For,” you nodded. “Has there ever been a time I’ve been against cheese?” 

“Fair,” he hummed, spinning back around, and continuing to cook. 

You smiled to yourself as you watched him work, his hips swinging to music only he could hear. Chewing on your lip, you felt a pang of bitterness sweep through your heart. 

He had to have missed dancing. 

Clearing your throat, your mouth attempted to form the question smoothly. “So...have you heard from the guys lately?” 

“Who?” he asked, continuing to casually move his butt to the imaginary music. 

“The guys,” you chirped. “You know...Junmyeon...Baek...Jongdae...any of them?” 

“Oh right,” he hummed, his body finally slowing. He glanced over his shoulder again. “Uh...not really. They know I’ve been busy.” 

“But I’m sure they have been too,” you prompted. “I know you guys were working on the next comeback. I’m sorry my injuries have gotten in the way of-” 

“Hey,” he smiled sadly, spinning with the frying pan in hand. He slowly began to spoon eggs onto your plate. “You can’t control your relationship with gravity. Well...I mean you kind of can, but it wasn’t in the cards that day. You didn’t want two broken legs.”

“And you didn’t expect to have to take care of me,” you teased. 

“I will always take care of you,” he cooed, shuffling to your side of the bar. He placed a soft kiss on your hairline before pulling away. “But for now, I have to take care of myself. I need a shower.” 

“Yes, please take care of your stench,” you grinned. 

“You love my stench,” he smirked. 

“Right, stale coffee smell is my turn on,” you laughed. 

“I can’t help that I sweat mocha,” he muttered, heading down the hall. 

“Actually, I think that is exactly a thing that you can help.” 

Without comment, he shut the bathroom door. You grinned to yourself as you began to spoon the freshly scrambled eggs into your mouth. 

“Mmm,” you hummed happily, just as his phone began to ring. 

“Minseok!” you called, picking up the phone and glancing at the screen. Jongdae’s smiling face filled up the glass. “Minseok!” 

Letting out a deep breath, you accepted the call, slowly waiting for it to connect. 

“Y/N!” Jongdae exclaimed as his actual face mimicked the photo you had just seen. “How are you feeling?” 

“Hey!” you grinned, attempting to swallow all of the food that was left in your mouth. “As good as I can feel I guess! What’s up?” 

“Well, you aren’t Minseok,” he laughed, tilting his head. “Is he still at your place?” 

“Yeah, he’s actually in the bathroom right now,” you hummed, eying the hallway cautiously. “I tried to call for him, but I think his hearing is a bit shot from all of the performing you all do.” 

“And keep trying to do,” Jongdae chuckled. “If he’d show up to practice.” 

“What?” you asked, narrowing your eyes. 

“Practice started about  twenty minutes ago,” he sighed. “Minseok said he would make it, but we haven’t heard anything. He’s been ignoring most of our texts. The last time he had talked to Junmyeon he had mentioned not participating in this comeback.” 

“I’m sorry, but am I hearing you correctly?” you whispered. “Minseok...sitting out of a comeback?” 

“Yeah, so you agree it sounds strange?” Jongdae hummed. 

“It doesn’t sound like him at all,” you muttered. “He’s usually willing to do anything for you guys.” 

“But he’s also willing to do anything for you,” Jongdae smiled sadly. “And unfortunately for us these days, I think one may be a little bit more important to him than another.” 

“Oh,” you croaked. “Do...do you think Minseok has been neglecting EXO because of...me?” 

“I didn’t say it,” Jongdae chuckled. “I just know that he loves you a lot, Y/N...and no one said an idol’s path was easy.” 

“I’ll try talking to him,” you said quietly with a somber nod. “Thanks for calling, Jongdae.” 

“It was good to see your face,” he smiled. “Bye!” 

You hung up the call and slowly set Minseok’s phone on the countertop. You reached forward, taking a deep drink from your juice, and swallowed hard. Why did Minseok lie to you? He hadn’t heard much from the guys? More like the guys hadn’t heard much from him. You knew that he would do anything you asked him to, but you had never quite asked him to take care of you. You had hoped he didn’t feel as if he was obligated to be there just because you were dating. You could manage just fine without him. Surely he knew that. 

After a few more moments of waiting in anxiety, Minseok finally emerged form the restroom, scrubbing a towel through his hair. 

“Did the coffee finish brewing?” he asked, shuffling toward the pot. 

“Jongdae called,” you spat, unable to keep the words from flying out of your lips. “Um...I mean, yeah.” 

Minseok turned to you, eyes wide. “Uh...?”

“Yes, the coffee has finished,” you said calmly. “Also Jongdae called.” 

“You or me?” Minseok asked absently reaching to his phone. 

“You,” you nodded. “I tried to call you, but I don’t think you could hear me over the water.” 

“Did you answer?” he asked, lifting his brows. 

“I...I thought it could have been important,” you said quietly, looking to your hands in your lap. You hadn’t realized that it would reflect poorly on you for answering his calls. 

“And was it?” he questioned. 

“Well, I mean, kind of,” you continued, choosing your words carefully. “He said they had expected you at practice and-” 

“Oh, that’s all it was about?” he asked, a nervous grin taking over his face. He wandered over to the coffee pot and began to pour himself a cup. “Would you like a cup?” 

“No thank you,” you muttered. “But...um...Minseok? I don’t think you should be missing practices on my account...and...and he had mentioned you not wanting to participate in the comeback?” 

Minseok set his cup down, his jaw tightening with your sentence. “Did he?” 

“Yeah,” you whispered. “He...he thinks it may be because you’re caring for me-” 

“That punk,” Minseok said through clenched teeth. Your eyes grew wide at the tone, unfamiliar coming from Minseok in general, but especially in reference to Jongdae. “I’ll punch him in the eye.” 

“Minseok,” you said slowly. “What is going on with you? If I’m the reason you’re skipping out on things, please, I can take care of myself just fine while you’re gone. If you need to focus on work-”

“I need to focus on you,” he said, his tone close to a whine. “You’re my priority.” 

“And what about your career?” you asked, your heart breaking. You knew Minseok loved performing. You didn’t want to stand in the way of that. 

“I’ve paid so much attention to my career,” he said quietly. “I’ve waited so long to be an idol...and I think it’s time that the idol life waited for me.” 

“What about your fans? They’ve waited so long to see you.” 

“If they’re truly my fan, they would understand,” he nodded. “You need me.” 

“Minseok,” you said quietly. “They need you too.”

Letting out a groan, he leaned forward onto the counter, and dropped his face into his hands. “I just...I just want something normal, Y/N.” 

“I’m...I’m sorry?” you asked.

“A normal life,” he croaked. “Being here with you the last few weeks...taking care of you...going places with you. It’s been so normal and I didn’t realize it was something i had craved so badly until now.”

“But there’s time for normal,” you sighed. “And there’s time for work. You’re going to be going to the army soon and-”

“Do you not want to see me as much as possible before that happens?” he asked, his expression one of desperation. 

“Of course I do,” you cooed, placing your palm on his cheek. “But I’ve also learned through this relationship that I can’t be selfish. Maybe the fans can wait, but you shouldn’t make your members wait...your brothers, Minseok. They are your family. Not participating in the comeback is letting them down...and honestly, it’s also letting me down.” 

“It’s...It’s what?” he whimpered. 

“No matter what you say,” you began. “I will think that if you don’t participate, it is because of me. When fans are upset, and when EXO members are upset, it’s on my account. I don’t want to be the reason for hurt feelings...”

“But...” he began, furrowing his brows. “How will you get around?” 

“Very carefully,” you grinned. “And whenever you aren’t practicing, you come here. You come live a normal life with me and spoil me as much as you want.”

“But when do things get to stay normal?” he asked, smiling sadly. “When do I get that?” 

“When work is done,” you cooed, smiling back at him. “Remember that passion that made you want to become an idol. You’re still young, MInseok. It’s time to live your dream. I’ll be here to support you and be as normal as possible when you get back.” 

“You’re never normal,” he grinned. 

“And never planned to be,” you chuckled. “That’s why the whole argument of a normal life was a bit shocking for me.” 

“Hey, you know what I meant,” he laughed. “Non idol living.” 

“I know,” you nodded. “But you’ll have that soon enough. Enjoy your time in the sun. You can enjoy your time in the shadows just as well once it’s all over.” 

Crossing the kitchen, he maneuvered himself to stand behind you, and wrapped his arms around your waist. He nuzzled his face in your shoulder and took a deep breath in. “How am I so lucky?” 

“I could ask the same thing,” you hummed, reaching up and running your hands through his damp hair. “But you better get going. I think you’re late for practice.”  

[elsaclack]

HELLO the general consensus is that a masterpost would be Good so!! here i am!! masterposting!! this is split by fandom in reverse-chronological order (newest on top) but i will tell u i’m not even gonna TRY with the one-shot collections bc honestly i have. No Memory Whatsoever as to when i posted those in relation to the independent fics lmao. most are on ao3 only but i will include tumblr links where applicable!! and if you think of one i’ve written (or that you think i’ve written) that you don’t see on this list, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask about it!!

BROOKLYN NINE-NINE

kiss prompt #26

2. moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed

AO3

kiss prompt #25

7. routine kisses where the other person presents their cheek/forehead for the hello/goodbye kiss without even looking up from what they’re doing

AO3

kiss prompt #24

7. routine kisses where the other person presents their cheek/forehead for the hello/goodbye kiss without even looking up from what they’re doing

[PLATONIC]

AO3

kiss prompt #23

10. staring at the other’s lips, trying not to kiss them, before giving in

AO3

kiss prompt #22

12. a hoarse whisper "kiss me"

AO3

kiss prompt #21

18. kisses where one person is sitting in the other’s lap

AO3

kiss prompt #20

19. kisses meant to distract the other person from whatever they were intently doing

AO3

kiss prompt #19

15. a gentle “i love you” whispered after a soft kiss, followed immediately by a stronger kiss

AO3

kiss prompt #18

8. being unable to open their eyes for a few moments afterward

AO3

kiss prompt #17

11. when one stops the kiss to whisper “I’m sorry, are you sure you-” and they answer by kissing them more

AO3

kiss prompt #16

16. when one person’s face is scrunched up, and the other one kisses their lips/nose/forehead

AO3

you’re a king, and i’m a lionheart

“What about...what about Jacob?” An overwhelming sense of rightness settles light as air over Roger’s shoulders as he turns the name over in his mind. Jacob. Prince Jacob. Prince Jacob of the House of Peralta, Duke of Southport. “Jacob,” he murmurs, and he could swear his son smiles. The sun breaks low on the horizon the morning of Prince Jacob’s birth - and far, far away, across a vast forest and a roiling sea beyond it, a lurking Duchess begins to plot.

"In which Jake is the prince notorious for running head-first into danger and Amy is the main guard in charge of keeping him alive."

AO3

and did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?

He can’t remember exactly how old he was when Halley’s Comet blazed through the sky, but he was old enough to at least understand that what he saw was, for most people, a once-in-a-lifetime experience. He remembers the blinding missile-like blur of pure light that streaked across the inky black sky, the feathery trails of starlight that followed along behind her as she tore through the galaxy, the way she flickered and winked as she disappeared beyond the horizon.

And he remembers his mother telling him, in a voice he recognized even then to be warbling with reverence and emotion, how lucky he is to be among those lucky few who will get to witness Halley’s blazing trail twice in one lifetime.

AO3

untitled song lyric prompt #3

“sometimes in the dead of night when you think you can’t make it, you might find i left a light beside the bed for you, ‘cause i’ve been there, too”

AO3

untitled song lyric prompt #2

“That drink you spilt all over me, lovers spit left on repeat, my mom and dad let me stay home, it feels so scary getting old”

AO3

untitled song lyric prompt #1

“I’ve already packed my promises, they’re waiting by the door”

AO3

the good place frozen yogurt prompt #3

inside jokes

AO3

the good place frozen yogurt prompt #2

unmitigated joy

AO3

the good place frozen yogurt prompt #1

grandma’s kisses

AO3

now that the weight has lifted, love has surely shifted my way

“Y’know what? Just - just go ahead. Ruin it. I don’t care. It’s just a dumb ceremony anyways. I love Jake, and I know he loves me, and - and we don’t have to have some big fancy ceremony to prove it. I’m going to marry him,” she says slowly, firmly, “and there is nothing you can do to stop it.”

AO3

untitled prompt #25

"Okay so what about a fic based on pregnant amy santiago wearing a bathrobe?"

AO3

i’m on the edge of a broken heart

Amy Santiago is a vision of beauty.

“Hey,” he says, suddenly winded by the mere sight of her. He falls back to his heels, lets his hands fall down to his sides, and watches as she slowly paces toward him. “I was just…I thought I might…clean.”

Aside from reaching to toss her shirt and purse across the chaise to his right, she remains very still. “You never clean.” she finally says after a long stretch of silence.

There is no inquisitiveness to her tone. There is no confusion in her face. It’s a statement of fact, yes, but the complete lack of emotion in her entire demeanor is a clear and flashing neon sign pointing to the calm before the storm.

AO3

je vais t’attendre là

On the morning of April 28th, Jake Peralta wakes to the smell of pancakes burning on the griddle.

He can tell when he rolls just slightly on his side that the blankets have been pulled up and neatly tucked in over the other half of the mattress, but even that slight change in angle brings him in contact with a part of the mattress still warm from Amy’s sleeping body. His shirt is also still warm where it’s stretched across his shoulders - there’s even a spot on the back of his neck that is cooler than the rest, probably leftover from the kiss she pressed there before she rolled out of bed.

He smiles as he rubs his fingertips over the spot. How she managed to burn breakfast in what is likely just a matter of minutes is entirely beyond him.

AO3

that i need you because it’s so hard to be who i am

But then it’s 7:30 and the last of her belongings are finally unloaded and carefully placed in and on her new desk and she’s straightening up the last picture of the two of them from the night they got engaged right beside her brand new computer monitor while she talks about what they should order for dinner (she’s been dealing with a hankering for good Chinese food ever since Vin mentioned the authentic Chinese cuisine he ate the last time he was in Tianjin and Jake is definitely not still vaguely jealous of the general lifestyle Vin leads) and Jake’s stomach is hollow, hollow, hollow.

That’s what makes the rumbling so loud, he thinks.

AO3

you look happy to me

The ball is several hours underway by the time Amy manages to track her children down again - out on the terrace of all places. The doors are propped open to welcome the balmy summer breeze rippling through the curtains (the ones that miraculously survived the dress incident of a few weeks ago), and though the sounds of her guests in fellowship around her and the gentle sounds of the string quartet in the corner command most of her auditory attention, the boisterous male laughter she’s grown all-too-familiar with rings clear and true above the rest.

Of course her children are with Jake.

(She wonders if the day she trusts her nanny to properly watch her children will ever come.)

AO3

you clicked your heels and wished for me

She’s not sure if it’s instinct or her skills as an amazing detective-slash-genius, but Amy knows from the moment she steps into their apartment that something is off.

AO3

untitled one-shot #7

She’s got that look on her face again - the one that makes his heart feel like it’s fluttering in his chest - and when she reaches across the center console to touch his forearm, her hand is warm from the coffee. “Jake,” she murmurs, and his face is burning. “You’re -” she stops and shakes her head, and then starts again. “You are literally the sweetest, most kind and thoughtful and attentive person I’ve ever met.”

He covers her hand with his own and tilts his head to the side, until it’s leaning against the headrest.

AO3

untitled prompt #24

you ever think about what would have happened if it was amy and rosa who worked with hawkins, rather than rosa and jake?

AO3

untitled one-shot #6

The morning of June 15th begins suddenly with a low voice in her ear.

“Amelia Maria Santiago-Peralta,” the voice is quiet, but it rumbles with delight. And even though she groans instinctively at her abrupt return to consciousness, she can’t help but to smile when his lips brush against her ear. “Do you know what today is?”

“Mmm,” she turns her head to bury her face in her pillow for one more moment, before rolling over to her back. When her eyes flutter open she finds him leaning over her, propped up on his elbow, grinning far too brightly for six o’clock in the morning. “It’s Friday,” she mumbles, “and my middle name’s not Maria.”

AO3

let ‘em wonder how we got this far

Amy Santiago does not get sick, thank you very much.

AO3

i’ll always do my best to make you see

The merry misadventures of Morrissey and Schmidt

one | two | three | four | five | six

they say that dreaming is free, but i wouldn’t care what it cost me

This is not a dream. It may look like one, what with all the fairy lights and the flashing red-and-blue strobe lights and that inexplicable feeling of weightlessness originating from somewhere down in his bones, but it’s real. It’s really happening. Amy Santiago is walking down the aisle, in a white dress, with flowers in her hands and a smile on her face and enough love to eradicate the concept of hate in her eyes, and it’s real. She’s walking down the aisle, toward the podium, where she’s going to get married. To him, Jake Peralta. This is not a dream.

AO3

you’ll always be the only one

"since im such an evil person, i just imagined... what would’ve happened if they didnt find out about the bomb...?"

AO3

you held your course to some distant war in the corners of your mind

The vast majority of his view through the rear view mirror is blocked by Amy’s head, raised a bit higher than usual thanks in large part to the hump that makes up the middle seat. He’s certain that’s going to present a problem once they’re on the road and moving, but he’s rather grateful for her presence in his line of vision at the moment. She’s not looking at him, but rather, at the tiny human bundled up like a baby burrito in the car seat to her left. She’s got a big goofy grin on her face and her brows keep rising and falling with each changing expression. A smile - probably the billionth in the last two days - blossoms across his face as he watches her make silly faces at their literally-hours-old daughter.

Brand new car, brander newer daughter.

AO3

build a ladder to the stars and climb on every rung

In truth, when Jake made the decision to answer Charles’ incoming phone call an hour earlier, he hand’t really expected much. Maybe a live update of something cute Nikolaj was doing, maybe commentary on whatever inedible animal part he was forcing himself to eat at the time, maybe another Cats-related pun. He expected something ordinary.

au where jake and amy find out they're expecting the same way cece and schmidt do on new girl

AO3

kiss prompt #15

First kisses: Hesitant and nervous. Lips hover inches from each other for a few seconds before they just barely brush. It’s just a soft press, but it ignites their entire bodies. Pinkies link afterwards, still wanting to be close, and each looks down, smiling softly.

AO3

kiss prompt #14

Angry kisses: Hard, gripping. Fists in clothes, shoving each other against walls. Fingers digging into hips. But the kisses always melt away from that. They turn into brushes of lips between shaking breaths, until they’re out of energy and are left just standing there, holding each other, fingers carding through hair.

AO3

kiss prompt #13

Heated kisses: Breath huffing into mouths, angrily or passionately. Hands grabbing at clothing and pulling each other closer.

AO3

kiss prompt #12

“I thought I lost you” kisses: The breath is knocked out of both of them with the force that they collide with. Hands grip the back of t-shirts and palms are pressed up and under shirts, holding them close, feeling the warmth of their skin. Palms are pressed to cheeks, thumbs swiping away tears until their mouths collide messily, the world seeming to disappear around them.

[VERSON 2]

AO3

kiss prompt #11

After sex kisses: Lazy, slow presses. Limbs pressed together, chests heaving. Soft murmurs about what to do for dinner later, fingers trailing down backs, tracing lazy patterns. B rolling onto their back and A trailing their lips down their neck, kissing their shoulder, their chest, anywhere they can think of, memorizing B.

AO3

kiss prompt #10

“We can’t do this” kisses: Fists clenched, hands shoved into pockets. Brows low or brought together, jaws clenched. A feeling like a magnetic pull between them. Their foreheads press together, their lips brush, just barely, until B pulls away with a shaking exhale, forehead dropping into A’s neck.

AO3

kiss prompt #9

“You look beautiful” kisses: Just a soft press of lips to the temple, resting them there for a moment, then smiling down and telling them as much.

AO3

kiss prompt #8

Breathless kisses: A series of short pecks because they need the closeness but they also need air, so. Sometimes smiles come in between, or sometimes its just breath, gasping for the sole purpose of being able to kiss again.

[tw: description of near-drowning and mentions of stomach pumping (y’know standard breathless kiss prompt stuff)]

AO3

kiss prompt #7

In the dark kisses: The movie plays in the background, but A and B are hardly paying attention from the back row. They kiss soundlessly, long and soft, fingers locked. A’s arm is thrown behind B’s seat, wrist bent to curl their fingers into B’s hair.

AO3

kiss prompt #6

Hello kisses: After long periods apart, these can include A picking up B and spinning them around. Fingers pressing into cheeks, palms cupping necks, and breathless laughs when they finally come up for air.

AO3

kiss prompt #5

“I thought I lost you” kisses: The breath is knocked out of both of them with the force that they collide with. Hands grip the back of t-shirts and palms are pressed up and under shirts, holding them close, feeling the warmth of their skin. Palms are pressed to cheeks, thumbs swiping away tears until their mouths collide messily, the world seeming to disappear around them.

AO3

kiss prompt #4

Comforting kisses: B walks into find A sitting on the bed, shoulders shaking, cheeks wet. A looks up, face looking stricken for a moment. B is shocked, and quietly says A’s name. At this, A breaks, face crumpling, and only barely has time to reach both hands out for B before B is there, kneeling at A’s feet. B takes A’s hands first, kissing their knuckles and palms. Then B reaches up to hold A’s face, pressing soft kisses around their cheeks, their lips, murmuring “it’s okay” and “you’re alright” and “I’m here” in between.

AO3

kiss prompt #3

“Come to bed” kisses: A has their hands on B’s neck, murmuring the phrase softly. A’s hands slide down B’s arms to their hands, lacing their fingers together and slowly starting to pull B towards their bedroom. A continues to pepper B with kisses all the while, trailing them down their jaw and neck.

AO3

kiss prompt #2

“I missed you” kisses: Long and relentless, holding their body close, arms wrapped completely around their waist. A burying their head in B’s neck and pressing kisses there too.

AO3

kiss prompt #1

“I’ll be right back” kisses: A puts their hands on B’s shoulders from behind them, where they are sat on the couch. A leans down and around, while B turns their head a little, accepting the quick peck.

AO3

on my heart like a tattoo

Amy’s a month old, too young to remember anything, and he shows up on her skin for the very first time in the form of an explosion of color.

AO3

don’t read the last page

There’s dry candle wax on the floor by the window and glitter stuck to the soles of her feet; somewhere down in the lobby their friend is carrying her shoes out into a blizzard, the fruits of her expensive Polaroid camera lying forgotten on the rug. Outside the world is muted and painted white with snow, the pain and misery and heartache of the year behind them left at the 11:59 threshold the night before. They faded to nothing at the stroke of midnight, at the heart-stopping meld of their lips, at his hooded smile to the sounds of their friends celebrating all around them, at the way his whispered we’re getting married this yearwas nearly lost in the commotion. Not quite the blank slate of it’s predecessors - but so much better.

The music ends and they keep swaying, clinging, too stubborn to let go. Their apartment is a wreck of discarded Solo cups and empty bottles and dirty dishes but he is warm and soft and he smells so good; eyes squeezed shut, fingers tangled in his shirt, to the beat of her heart her mind chants forever.

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untitled one-shot #5

Amy’s back is toward him but he can see her arm moving in a slow rhythm - probably drawing patterns in the small shag rug at the foot of their bed - and aside from the slight turn of her head, she doesn’t acknowledge his arrival. The apartment is warm, a welcome reprieve to the bitter cold bartering for entrance at their windows, and even though he can see the snow falling thick and swirling in the space between their curtains he can feel the warmth trickling down his fingers and toes.

“Hey,” he says, voice almost boisterous in the comfortable silence swaddling them both. She turns toward him a little more, peering at him through her lashes - and now he can see the pinkness around her nose has spread over her cheeks and darkened to an angrier color, the used, crumpled tissues like confetti on the floor over the top of her head. “Why’re you on the floor?”

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come on, it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you

The worn soles of her Ugg boots scuff along the dingy carpet beneath their feet, and her scarf - now draped over one shoulder - drags along the ground behind her. Her mittens, over-stuffed puffy coat, matching ski pants, and thick wool beanie complete the look; he’s honestly never seen her look more Randy from A Christmas Story than she does in this moment.

It is without question the cutest thing he’s ever seen in his life.

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if you want me to stay, i will stay by your side

For someone whose job requires an unusually large amount of personal risk on a near daily basis, Amy Santiago has not dedicated much time considering how she might one day die. The vague assumption that it will probably happen on the job - via stray bullets or careening cars or massive explosions - has been enough to satisfy any musing.

She never imagined doctor's visits or specialist consultations or diagnoses. She never imagined hospital gowns and thinning hair and chemotherapy.

And she never, ever imagined cancer.

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in these dark ad quiet hours

There are unanswered texts on both of their phones, lunch invitations waiting to be received, inquiries about dinner plans or post-work drinks demanding responses; there are fresh boxes of his favorite cereal and his preferred brand of hot chocolate in the kitchen cabinets waiting to be poured. Life, their life, ebbs and flows along the perimeter of their mattress. But they ignore it for now, for just a few more minutes of this. For just a few more minutes of them.

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untitled prompt #23

SO..UH...IS IT TIME FOR YOU TO BLESS US WITH ANOTHER DOMESTIC PERALTIAGO FIC???? (pleaseeeeeeeee)

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survival will not be the hardest part

Of course, it’s not a normal Wednesday. Because on this particular Wednesday, Amy’s functioning on two hours of sleep and approximately five and a half cups of coffee. On this particular Wednesday, she’s simultaneously starving and nauseous, having gotten so caught up in this murder case she’s been working with Rosa that she simply hasn’t had the time to eat. She’s exhausted and clammy and probably just about on the verge of succumbing to the flu she knows has been going around the beat cops downstairs.

She’s also exactly one month out from her wedding day.

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even if the skies get rough

It’s sixty-five degrees in the waiting room of Jericho Supermax Prison and Jake Peralta is absolutely disintegrating in her arms.

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the stakes are high, the water’s rough, but this love is ours

This has her eyes splitting open and her brow furrowing at once. Jake may have only been acquitted and released from prison three days ago but already she’s readjusted to sharing the bed again; to find it empty is to choke down a small, skittish wave of panic. The mattress is still warm, after all - he was in bed recently. And now that her senses are starting to fire on all cylinders, she’s absorbing the heavy scent of coffee and bacon in the air and the sounds of Taylor Swift playing quietly nearby.

And then she hears his voice - quiet, but still cracking as he tries to sing along with a high note.

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untitled prompt #22

What if like in the fanfics, amy actually did get engaged to teddy during jake's undercover op?? and the boy comes back actually finding amy's Wedding binder on her desk and jake's like What The Fuck! !!!??!? and emo while simultaneously trying to be supportive bc this is an exciting thing for amy nd he doesnt want to be the one to ruin it. Imagine jake not showing up at the wedding bc he rlly wouldnt be able to take it only to find amy clad in her wedding dress in his doorstep a few hours later

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untitled prompt #21

Do you think amy dies a little inside everytime she catches jake looking at her with the Soft look? like she's definitely seen it and she's probably teased him about it at some point but home girl probably loves it so! much! and she loves him so much and HE loves her so much too! she knows that with her whole being but it catches her offguard sometimes bc this sunshine boy really loves her to bits and he's so good to her and he makes her so so so happy and amy needs to lie down

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untitled one-shot #4

It’s the solid landing of a tiny hand against his cheek, quickly followed by a quiet gasp and a muffled giggle, that rouses Jake from sleep.

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untitled prompt #20

it's canon that jake makes mixtapes so what if he has a box of them labeled with the day they were made and what if amy finds that stash while jake is absent for some reason (based on ur need for Angst™, this reason is up for interpretation) and spends a day going through them, laughing at her nerd bf & his mixtapes ranging from tswift to conner4real to toni braxton until she finds one labeled with the date that he went undercover. again, based on the angst need, this can go so many ways

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untitled prompt #19

How cute would Amy's first Mother's Day be...

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untitled prompt #18

Imagine Jake taking Amy to dinner after her exam to celebrate, and at the restaurant he keeps telling people at nearby tables that his girlfriend just became a sergeant, because he's just so proud and wants to brag about her. And Amy pretends to be exasperated but she can't hold back a smile

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untitled prompt #17

This is the first time in three weeks she’s allowed herself to exist within the walls once stretched to capacity with love, with laughter, with the occasional healthy bouts of exasperation. And really, honestly, she hadn’t intended to snoop. She was just searching for a certain hoodie - one she lived in for months at a time a year ago when this Jake-shaped hole was first blown through her chest - and in the process of looking through old boxes stacked at the back of the hall closet that never really got around to being unpacked, she’d found a binder.

A binder with her father’s name in Garamond typeface emblazoned across the front cover.

(She can’t help but instinctively wrinkle her nose - she would have chosen Tahoma.)

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untitled prompt #16

Hey there! I got an idea for Peraltiago (bc i am trash) One of them gets EXTREMELY wasted and forgets that they're actually dating the other so they start shamelessly flirting with them. The other just plays along. I feel like this would fit Amy cause of "The Santiago Drunkenness Scale" but I'd love to see (in this case, read) a drunk and goofy Jake fall in love all over again. But you decide which is best! P.S I really love your work! ^_^

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untitled prompt #15

Amy has to go in for some kind of procedure, very low key, everything's kosher. However, since she's gonna be out of it for a few hours, Jake has to take care of her.

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untitled prompt #14

Plz write a fluffy fic about when Amy and the ladies + Charles get hammered for rosas bachelorette party Amy either talks to them about Jake or comes home to Jake and is adorable and lovey

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untitled one-shot #3

The first thing Jake does after the bailiff announces the not-guilty verdict is high-five his lawyer. The second thing he does is high-five Rosa.

The third, and perhaps most dramatic thing he does, is turn around, vault the low wall separating the audience from the rest of the courtroom, and kiss Amy.

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untitled prompt #13

Can you write something where jake and Amy go to hook up in the evidence locker or closet or something and end up getting stuck and Amy is like !!!well shit!!! Cause she's claustrophobic

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you did this to him

"So Jake's doing the right thing instead of the selfish thing?"

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untitled prompt #12

could you please write what was going through jake's and amy's minds when figgus had jake at gun point??

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untitled one-shot #2

“Jake,” Amy’s voice is low and soothing as she pulls the car smoothly to the side of the road. Jake grunts, too busy flipping through his notecards to verbalize a response. “Jake, babe, please relax. It’s okay. There are seven of them. I can’t even remember all of their names.”

“That is the biggest lie you’ve ever told me in your entire life, and that includes the time you tried to tell me McGinley asked you to clean out the fridge in the breakroom.”

“Oh my God, it’s been seven years, are you ever gonna let that go?”

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untitled prompt #11

Amy and jake laughing and/or discussing teddy proposing to her

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untitled prompt #10

I can't stop wondering about the scar on Jake's back that he got by banging into Amy's kitchen cabinet. How did it happen? Were they making out? Was he cooking and something fell to the ground? What did Jakey do this time? ... Think of this as a prompt if you need/want one.

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untitled prompt #9

If you're not too busy with prompts, Jake x Amy and the phrase "you fight like a married couple". Thank you :)

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untitled prompt #8

can you write an angsty fic about jake reacting to an old friend dying and amy trying to comfort him??

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when you press me to your heart, i’m in a world apart

“Do you ever think about all the time we lost?”

Jake asks the question quietly, half-mumbled against her neck. The tone of his voice is the same as it has been for the last hour they’ve spent laying in her bed - light, carefree, relaxed. His fingers trace lightly over her side, having edged beneath the hem of her t-shirt twenty minutes ago to trace circles and hearts and swirls over her ribs; all-in-all, far away enough that he probably doesn’t notice the fact that her heart has just skipped a beat.

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watching through my fingers

Eyes closed, one swollen, a violet bruise that gives way in places to greener colors marking the shape of the fist that put it there, slanted down from just above her brow to her cheekbone. Beautiful and painful, like a sunset that rips his heart out of his body. Her eyelids are delicate and thin, so so breakable, hiding those warm brown eyes from smiling up at him and assuring him that everything is okay. It’s all okay. She’s okay.

He is not okay.

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don’t be fools, thinking this is the last you’ll find

Jake gets nervous for the second time on their first official date when they make it back to Amy’s apartment. More specifically, when they’re standing just outside of the entrance to her apartment. When her hair, so light and wavy and tantalizing, is moving just slightly in the late-night breeze and her eyes are bright from both the alcohol and the laughter that filled the long stretch of time after that alcohol; his whole entire chest is suddenly seized with nerves. He hasn’t been this close to her since the copy room at work earlier, just one hour after their evidence lock-up kiss. He swallows thickly and her eyes flick down at the movement.

His dart down to her lips. He’s just a beat too late coming back up to her eyes.

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untitled prompt #7

I need a scene where Jake is sad so to cheer him up Amy gives him a picture of her and Charles from when they wore the same outfit while Jake was undercover

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untitled prompt #6

I really need to dump 'Jake gets framed for murder/some other crime and has to spend some time in prison, while the team fights to clear his name and get him out' on someone, Peraltiago of course, and may be Doug Judy is looking after Jake in prison. ??? IDK

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untitled prompt #5

Do you think you could write a fic where jake and Amy get into a big fight and go back to their own places but they're both super sad about it and make it up to each other in the morning?

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romeo, save me, they’re trying to tell me how to feel

B99 Au idea where Amy never worked in the 9-9 and instead has been groomed by Madeline Wuntch her entire professional career as her protégé, leading to a Romeo-and-Julietesque romance and rivalry between Ray Holt’s own protégé, causing them to have to hide their relationship once they have their asses in gear - Tumblr user stardustsantiago

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and the bells are ringing out

Jake Peralta is sitting in the interrogation room.

It’s strange, Amy thinks as she watches him through the glass. They’ve probably been in this same position at least three dozen times before - her on this side, him on that one - but never once has she been quite this anxious. Never once has he seemed quite so frail.

Never once has he tended to his own minor wounds, or held his own ice pack to his bruised and swollen eye, or watched the door with as much quiet intensity.

Never once has he been a victim.

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we watched the sun set over the castle on the hill

It’s not constant, but it’s enough - it strikes a chord deep within her, reverberating back through the years and vibrating in her very bones, each instance blazing in her memory like a makeshift patchwork quilt spanning back over a decade to that first lonely stakeout in their prologue.

A series of snapshots of Jake Peralta's pursuit of happiness.

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you can tell me when it’s over if the high was worth the pain

Once upon a time, there was a knight in shining pantsuit armor who rescued a fair prince from an evil hawk's detention center...

Or, Amy has never been one to lie down at the face of injustice; this is especially true when the one facing injustice happens to be the love of her life.

Post s4 finale fic, in 4 movements.

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should i suffocate or let go

Amy's not sure, really, when her life became so tragic.

She’s not a tragic person. She’s never known sorrow in an intimate way, never really felt her bones turn cold with it. Organization keeps the demons at bay; she knows this as surely as she knows her own name.

Enter: Jake Peralta.

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all my seconds, minutes, lifetimes for you and only you

“You had me worried for a minute, there,” he tells her quietly while she lavishes attention on the faded freckles along his shoulders.

(It’s code: you could have just talked to me.)

She pauses, long eyelashes fluttering against her cheekbones, before tilting her head back up to peer at him. “I knew you’d find me eventually,” she says off-handedly. “I just - I freaked myself out.”

(It’s also code: you and I both know I would only have freaked out more.)

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hold on to hope if you’ve got it

He wonders, distantly, what the soul mate science says about situations like this. He wonders as the cool backside of Amy’s hand presses against his forehead; he wonders as he loses touch completely with reality, as his mind comes unhinged and tears spewing down his face spread at an alarming rate across the mattress beneath his violently tilted head.

Who's he supposed to turn to when she can’t be there for him?

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i think i’m tired of getting over it

She’s not sure about the how or the when or the why, but on one warm afternoon in May, Gina is faced with the realization that one Rosa Diaz has become an undeniable cornerstone in her life. Gina almost hates herself for allowing this to happen, for allowing this one person to become so intimately entangled in the life she’s built for herself that the moment that person disappears from it, everything comes crashing down again. Her eyes are open and she can still see colors and feel textures and the world is still real and spinning, except her mind has dropped off back into that void and there is nothing there to pull her out, there is no one, nothing, gone gone gone -

“Gina?” Gina blinks, and Amy Santiago’s face comes fading into view.

[a s4 finale prediction]

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just let the pain remind you hearts can heal

He’s been walking a fine line recently. She’s been out of the hospital for less than a week, and while she’s been incredibly diligent about following all of the instructions the doctor gave her about medicine and physical therapy, she’s been all but belligerent about the bed rest side of things. It’s hard to tell her no, and not just because one pleading look would be enough to convince Jake to commit arson for her; Amy Santiago can be quite intimidating when she wants to be.

(Part of him wonders just how much that terrifying look hardened while she was undercover. Part of him never ever wants to know.)

[set in the sleepwalking universe]

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the well-worn pages of my favorite book

"How dare you tempt me with a small bookstore!"

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untitled prompt #4

omg idk if this has been done yet, but imagine an au with jake and amy where amy is an artist and jake is a photographer or something and they're each others muses like o m g

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untitled prompt #3

um hi love your writing BUCKETS - prompt for after tonight's ep, jake goes home and accidentally lets it slip that he wants to have kids at some point (a la mentioning he kissed holt - totally unintentional, slips out by mentioning charles in convo with amy, potentially??)

AND

Prompt! The night of Captain Latvia, Jake talks to Amy about his thoughts on what Boyle said about Jake never becoming a dad.

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untitled prompt #2

Prompt idea: get this... jake amy in highschool .. prom is coming up.. amy cant go something comes up.. jake is super excited but .. instead stays with amy at her house playing board games in pjs

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untitled prompt #1

do you have any headcanons for jake and amy on valentine's day? an idea of mine is that they're both working late and so they can't go out for dinner or anything and thus jake feels bad and buys amy all the tacky valentine's gifts he can find within a mile radius of the precinct

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untitled one-shot #1

Amy can tell something’s off the moment she steps off the elevator.

To the naked eye, everything about the bullpen appears to be perfectly normal. There are three perps sitting in holding, and Charles is bickering with Scully over the coffee pot in the break room. Gina’s engrossed in whatever is illuminating her face on her computer screen, Rosa’s scribbling something in the margin of what appears to be official paperwork, and Holt’s office door is closed. She can see Terry’s back through the open blinds - the two appear to be deep in conversation.

The only one missing is Jake - which is why she’s immediately suspicious.

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baby, you were my picket fence

Amy snatches it and takes a long pull, screwing her eyes shut against the bitter taste, but even as she coughs and splutters as she lowers the bottle again Rosa finds that she just can’t make fun of her. “Good? Or do I need to order another bottle?”

“Another,” says Amy, and then, “he’s gone.”

Rosa stiffens, gaze lifting to scan over the crowd around them. “Who?” She asks quietly when she can’t spot the threat.

“Jake.”

She deflates. “Yeah, he left, like, three hours ago -”

“Not three hours ago, ten minutes ago. And he - he stopped me in the parking lot, as I was on my way out.” She swallows again, thickly this time, and Rosa clenches her jaw. “He confessed - he told me that he likes me.”

For a split-second, Rosa has to fight the craziest urge to laugh. It’s all so juvenile - a boy confessed he liked her and she’s immediately distraught, how utterly cliche - before the implications of it all belatedly hit her. “Oh.”

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this girl right here’s gonna rule the world

Could you write something where Rosa encourages Gina to think about becoming a cop/something post coral palms pt3??? Xoxoxo - ANONYMOUS

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don’t let our hearts freeze

I see a lot of Jake helping Amy with panick attacks but not much of the opposite and you write intimate moments between them so well, so would you write the first time Jake feels safe enough with Amy to call her when he gets a panick attack (establish relationship) ? - FUCKINGDAMNITDEAN

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just say you won’t let go

Hey there, I love your writing, so if you're ever up to, could you write Rosa and Charles watching the surveillance tapes from the evidence lock up in episode 03x01? I just think it would be so funny to actually see (in this case read) Charles watching Jake and Amy killing a guy with their kiss, and Rosa telling him to chill (while secretly smiling to herself). - ANONYMOUS

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my life before was tragic

Prompt! After Jake and Amy start dating, Jake finds the ring from The Bet in Amy's desk and asks her why she went back to get it. - ANONYMOUS

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stuck in second gear

HAS ANYONE WRITTEN A JAKE AND AMY PROPOSAL THAT HAPPENS JUST LIKE MONICA AND CHANDLER’S PROPOSAL - Tumblr user youngsamberg

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the roads ahead are paved with good intentions

i just remembered this and i think it’s really interesting that amy told teddy both times jake told her he liked her, before and after he went undercover - Tumblr user youngsamberg

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heaven and earth have finally aligned

ANONYMOUS: so do you have any headcanons regarding the Jake and Amy stills from the wedding? (I.e. write a short fic based on the pictures of them)  

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i’ll be there for you

Hey, do you know an episode of friends where Monica and Chandler are secretly dating and he accidentally kisses her in front of Phoebe and Rachel? Can you write that Peraltiago-stylez? Please please pleeeaase?

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i'm still waiting patiently

i am ONLY asking bc i'm a self destructive mess rn but if ur in an angst writing mood could u write something where like jake has to cheat on amy while he's in florida???? idk????? i love angst

[PLEASE NOTE: i didn't write this exact prompt]

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something like that

i don't know if you're taking prompts but could you do Jake and Amy's first kiss like Nick and Jess. AUish. Idk. THANK YOU FOR EXISTING

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when i’m wiser and i’m older

Jake has six months worth of missed cuddling with one Amy Santiago, and he does not intend to waste any time in catching up - pain killers and airplanes be damned.

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just like a movie, just like a song

Amy Santiago does not break rules.

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where the numb meets the lonely

Anonymous said: Okay so I was just thinking about the fact that Jake and Amy's one-year anniversary probably occurred while Jake has been in Florida- do you think Jake had like a fake anniversary celebration with Amy's selfie? Also thinking about Jake and Amy not getting to be together for their anniversary makes me sad.

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and as our eyes start to close

He’s gone thirty-some-odd years without mourning his lack of a broad English vernacular, but that all changes the first time he sets foot into his new apartment after living in Florida for six months.

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you're not alone, 'cause you're here with me

Pertaigo oneshot where Amy has a really really bad panic attack? It can be at the prescient can be there to - ANONYMOUS

Can you please write Amy having a sever anxiety attack? - ANONYMOUS

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and you’re the sky

JAKE AND AMY MEET THE EXACT SAME WAY JANE AND MICHAEL DO AU (an unassuming beat cop shows up to her epic twenty first birthday door and gets mistaken for a stripper) - PHIL-THE-STONE

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how can i be an optimist about this?

ok for a jake/amy prompt how about their first fight as a married couple? can be as simple or as angsty as you please! - ANONYMOUS

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i promise that you'll never be lonely

Hi this is the same anon with the moving in together prompt so i have two and I'm not sure if these are more one-shotty or if you've done these before but 1)jake and/or amy's inner thoughts during johnny and dora 2) amy calling her mom to tell her about jake and her answering all of those *annoying* mom questions also are you on ff. net and or ao3? sorry you've probably posted about it before but I just started following so i don't know - ANONYMOUS

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and i see colors in a different way

as payback for the dress she wore and having to dance with scully in the bet amy plans a bad date to take jake on even though she doesnt expect to use it and later (while dating jake?) finds her notes while going through and cleaning out some old binders/notebooks - ANONYMOUS

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why don't you sit right down and stay awhile?

Prompt! Jake finds out Amy has never seen diehard and takes her to see it immediately - TARDIISBLUE

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to make up for the times i've been cheated on

u heathen okAY OKAY imma be Terrible and say Jake gets shot protecting Captain Holt and Amy and Rosa react ;;;;)))))))))))))) - PHIL-THE-STONE

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got that good song in my feet

prompt! six drink amy around jake in established relationship (i.e she's no longer lonely,, she's more clingy and emotional?? idk) :))) - FOURDRINKAMY

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i'd pay to see you smile

I've seen AU oneshots where Amy arrests civilian!Jake, but what about one where he arrests her--maybe a bit of a Doug Judy S2 ep type situation where she's flirting with him and he's into it but then catches himself? - GRYFFINDORSWEATER

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six days

Watching the speech scene in The Funeral where Jake is so adamantly willing to get demoted and Ames is trying to convince him that it’s his dream job and he shouldn’t let it go that easily and then he tells her ‘Amy…this good’

Like. I know they were both already way too deep once they started it, but?? I really?? Need someone to write a fic centering around Jake’s PoV during those six days? What was he thinking while he and Amy did Normal Couple Things? Did he constantly get streams of thoughts that revolved around how this is a reality that he’s alive and he’s not dreaming and how amazing this whole thing is that he can openly give her the Looks and hold her hand and snuggle with her and he can openly show her affection because they’re dating now?? I NEED SOMEONE TO WRITE A FIC PLS

- Tumblr user tall-butt

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i’ve been sleepwalking too close to the fire

Amy goes undercover immediately following the events of Johnny and Dora. Jake and the others try to deal.

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the only proof that i need is you

"in which Amy makes a habit of ranting to the bartender (about her terrible day, her last awful date, the patriarchy), and Jake takes it upon himself to try to make her smile."

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and let your colors bleed and blend with mine

"in which Jake and Amy are New York’s Most Wanted… or so he thinks. Amy’s actually an undercover cop meant to take him down – except it’s a year into the assignment, her fake feelings for him are a bit too real, and she just can’t imagine turning over this big misunderstood softy to the feds."

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and ignore those big warning signs

“Tell him I’m sorry. Tell him I love him. Please, Charles, I’ll hold them off for as long as I can, just - just go!”

The last words Amy Santiago speaks before waking up alone in a hospital room, handcuffed to her bed.

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i never knew daylight could be so violent

Charles likes to think of himself as the world's first post-apocalyptic gourmet chef.

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and we will put the lonesome on the shelf

They get married on a Saturday evening, and that morning, it rains.

Amy wakes to the gentle tap of steady rainfall knocking gently on the window just three inches back from the very top of her head. For a moment, she lays very still - her sleep-dried eyes blink lazily up at the all-too-familiar ceiling above her head, watching blankly as a dull muted light casts soft shadows that stretch from the window all the way to the ceiling fan in the center of the room. She inhales deeply, so deeply that she feels a faint pop between her shoulder blades, and her eyes flutter shut again.

Seconds later, the stillness of the morning is pierced by an all-too-familiar alarm, and when her eyes fly open, they fly open on the wings of a powerful surge of excitement and adrenaline.

She’s getting married today.

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and i’ll tell you all about it when i see you again

It's snowing by the time they make it home from Brooklyn Methodist Hospital.

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love you inside out

Amy cries the night Jake comes home from Florida.

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most nights, i don’t know anymore

A response to the following prompt:

It isn’t a fanfic unless Main Character has to tear their gaze away from the strip of skin revealed above Love Interest’s waistband when they casually stretch their arms above their head.

----

“It’s the way he looks when he talks about her. There’s just…I don’t know, I can’t explain it. There’s something in his eyes when he talks about her, or when he looks at a photo of her. He would never hurt her. It’s written all over his face.”

“Are you quoting two-thousand-nine Beyonce at me?”

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your arms wrapped around me and this moment

"How did you know they were the one?"

"I just...knew."

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you know that i am home

It’s the sum total of many moving parts that ends up landing him in such a position at such a late hour; the coalescing of several Unfortunate Incidences, of which he had little to no control over, that thrusts him into such a predicament. A series of bad omens, as Gina would later tell him with a knowing smile, that he just couldn’t avoid, because he’s a freight train careening out of control and this is the end of the tracks.

Or something - something like that. It’s hard to think straight at 3 o’clock in the morning.

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my head is an animal

Anonymous: But: Jake is a sleep cuddler. Amy found this out before they were dating. They were on a long stakeout together and it was her shift. Jake fell asleep next to her clung onto her like his life depended on it. She didnt have the heart to wake him. Also: Gina found it out at a sleepover when they were kids. She woke up to Jake almost squeezing her to death. She screamed and threw a pillow at his head. Jake was not amused. Gina never slept beside Jake again.

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i’m with your ghost again

"wait what if there’s a flashback during s4 of Jake and Holt leaving for Florida and it shows them saying goodbye to Amy and Kevin like I am not ready for that but it’s all I want" - Tumblr user youngsamberg

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i’m gonna be free and i’m gonna be fine

It all ends the same way it starts: with a phone call.

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i’m gonna make this place your home

It's 3 AM and Jake is trying to comfort his newborn daughter without waking his wife. Delirious rambling ensues.

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wake me up when it’s all over

A stolen moment between Jake and Amy in the days after he returns from Florida.

AO3

i know places

Missing moment alluded to in the s3 finale:

"No one knows where I live." "I thought you had Amy over there once?" "Yeah, it was fun. I moved the next day."

AO3

riptide

Request: Could you do a fanfiction where an old ex flirts with amy and makes her laugh and jake realises he’s wants to be the only one to make her laugh? JEALOUS JAKE IS THE BEST JAKE

AO3

new york city, please go easy on me tonight

"There isn't a single person in the world I'd rather have on this case than you."

AO3

rivers and roads

"Rivers and roads, rivers and roads, rivers 'til I reach you."

AO3

thunder

Jake is thirty-five years old when he discovers a new breed of thunder.

AO3

until the sweetest words remain

In her four-year stint as an art major, Amy learned a lot of different words to describe beauty. She studied brushstrokes that communicated immeasurable pain and triumph and hope and fear. She learned how one piece of art could capture a moment so intense she felt like she could feel the artist’s breath on her neck. She felt positive that she’d never meet anyone who could make her feel as much as Michelangelo could with just one facial expression.

Until she met Jake.

AO3

of all the things my eyes have seen

Sometimes healing only comes one piece at a time. Sometimes it's so slow, it's painful. And sometimes it only happens when the people we love push us toward it. A stand-alone one shot that spins off from the events of Heliocentrism.

AO3

heliocentrism

Prompt: Amy goes undercover for some time (months maybe??). Jake goes crazy because he misses her like hell and is worried about her. He is very sad. Then she comes back and they are very cute (lots of fluff please!!)

You only need the light when it's burning low, only miss the sun when it starts to snow, only know you love her when you let her go.

AO3

THE GOOD PLACE

the song in my head was all that i had

He's Chidi Anagonye, and everything is fine.

AO3

GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY

were we the belly of the beast or the sword that fell

The expanse of inky blackness sprawled out before her seems peaceful in spite of Drax’s mind-numbing laughter booming through the Benatar, and though the sound of it grates against her ears even after all the time she’s spent in close quarters with him, she feels her lips twitching, fighting against a smile. He’s off somewhere in the bowels of the ship with Mantis, probably exploring whatever areas they’ve not yet discovered. And she knows Rocket’s busy arguing with Groot near the storage area - apparently explosives don’t mix well with whatever kindling Groot has started to shed. And Peter -

He’d shuffled off to the captain’s quarters with the earpieces of his Zune tucked securely in his ears some time ago.

It seems that all is right in the galaxy.

For now.

AO3

STRANGER THINGS

the wind is low, the birds will sing that you are part of everything

ANONYMOUS ASKED: a fic prompt - Steve gets introduced to El and internally he's like 'guess ive got 5 kids now' :3

She looks very different than she did three days earlier. Gone is the slicked-back hair and heavy eye makeup, gone are the ratty jeans and ripped shirts and jackets. The girl that sits before him now doesn’t particularly look like she’s hiding superpowers. She looks like just that, a girl - radiating innocence and timidity beneath a veritable mop of lazy curls that hang down in her big wide brown eyes. Her clothes are big and baggy and definitely scream hand-me-down but he can tell by looking at her that she has no concept of why that might be a bad thing.

It’s when she slides off the bed and steps toward him - after casting an uncertain glance at Mike - that it really hits him. She reaches up to push her hair out of her eyes and he finally sees them, the depth behind those irises, the strength radiating off of her that seems to originate somewhere down in her bones. What he thought was timidity is now a carefully-restrained surge of pure power. It very nearly floors him.

“Hi,” her voice is soft and measured and her hand is steady as she reaches toward him.

AO3

watching through windows, you’re wondering if i’m okay

The whole house is quiet, the echoes of Billy’s barbaric screaming long-since faded away, but when Mike closes his eyes and inhales deeply enough, he could swear he still smells the faintly tangy scent of whatever that gel was in El’s hair, the one that filled his lungs when he breathed her in. He can still feel the heat of her against him, the way her heart beat so hard and wild against his chest, the way her nails dug into his shoulders through his sweater when he’d hugged her as close and as hard as he could. He can still feel her, alive and breathing, real and there, even though it’s been a couple of hours and he’s had as many brushes with death in that time. The anxiety still bristling in his stomach roars and doubles over on top of itself, threatening to buckle his knees and bring him to the floor for a moment.

It’s the memory of those headlights flaring to near blinding proportions that keeps him steady on his feet. There’s no way that was anything but Eleven.

The aftermath of the group's collective brush with the Mind Flayer and his army.

AO3

[uniformbravo]

so...,.,,...,,.,..,......,.,.,..,.,,,,....,,.

it’s 3:30 am & ive just spent the last hour and a half looking up ways to recover data when u have no backups because i accidentally permanently deleted a large portion of the fic i was writing ,,,;;., , yy

i mean. i  m ea n uhhhh this is a lesson i needed to learn?? i guess???? i was um, writing it on my phone, like a fnngj idiot, on the generic note-taking app that has like, the bare minimum of writing capabilities, right. i even mentioned how i had to start a new document bc the first one was getting too laggy after 4000 words, right. it wasn’t very stable or uhhh reliable in the first place?? so why was i using it as the one place to store this fic???

im kind of devastated rn if that wasn’t a given uhhhhh i want to try and rewrite it but first i have to get over the loss and boy what a fuckin. what a doozy am i right hghghghuogooo

bc the thing is i already knew this wasn’t a very secure place to store it and had been considering making a backup , and thats actually what i was doing when i lost it? i have a part 1 and a part 2 right now and i had already transferred part 1 to my laptop via email by copying the whole thing & pasting it over, and that went super well. i went to do the same for part 2 and like. i started the selection at the top and dragged down, but i pulled down so far that my finger was over the keyboard and something stuttered since it was such a big document and uhh,, it stopped selecting but kept the portion i had already highlighted selected, & my finger was on the comma key i guess so it turned that whole selected portion into 3 commas like. all those words i had written turned into “,,,”

the thing about this app is there’s no option to save without quitting, if you exit out of it or back out in any way it autosaves your stuff. there is an undo button, but for some reason it wasn’t an option? it wasn’t highlighted so i guess it didn’t count what i’d just done as something that could be undone? & as soon as i realized that, thats kind of when i lost my marbles, which was my second mistake (or, like, 12th in the grand scheme of things)

because uh, the autosave thing also happens if the screen times out, and i didn’t think to force shut off my phone by taking out the battery until much later, so uh. the screen timed out while i was busy freaking out so it saved those commas so even though i didn’t exit out of the app or anything and just straight up took out the battery, when i turned the phone back on that shit was still royally fucked

it’s even more devastating that i could have saved it if i had thought fast enough, though, because after that i did a test where i deleted the commas and then immediately removed the battery, and when i turned on the phone again the commas were back so i just. oof

so yeahhhhhh that’s kind of a huge bummer.,,.,,,,,,,,,,,.,,.., i’ve looked up a lot of shit in desperation but i think there’s really nothing i can do to get it back, just precautions i can take in the future like mmm saving backups all the time and generally not writing on shitty phone apps that aren’t meant for what i use them for?? 

im kind of exhausted & i kind of dont want to go to bed just bc i know it’ll hurt to wake up and remember what happened but hfff i need sleep i guess.,,.,. maybe to clear my mind or something, so i can get started on rewriting?? i really wish this had happened to the part 1 instead because it’s a slow start to the story & really my least favorite part of the whole thing so far, i already considered rewriting that anyway. and this part that got deleted had one of my favorite scenes that i had worked on so im super upset about that, not quite sure how im gonna be able to recapture that but i had reread it enough times before, i think i can piece something together at least

ahhhhhhhhhh anyway i think i’ll sign off here uh. wow. what a night. everyone, please don’t write your beloved stories in unreliable apps like me, make backups & take screenshots instead of riskily copy/pasting the whole thing at once, it’s fuckin. super not worth the risk. be safe

[neo-shitty]

toffee!

no dont apologise! i didnt check until just then so np :)

mmm yeah it is a bit trippy. hehe ITS TRUE THO. yeah sadly i think ur right, and tag blocking is probably a good idea. sometimes smut written well or not in excess is okay but goddamn when its abt 01 line and thats the whole fic... *silently blocks tags*

hehe i do that all the time lol this conversation is carrying on threads from a month ago :) mmm yeah ur probably right sadly, same. HA HE DIDNT HAVE A CHOICE and now i have someone to talk to abt them, so thats good! I KNOW felix was actually the one who got me into skz with his iconique gods menu line so i guess i have a soft spot for him. i always tell myself my bias is chan but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ guess im more whipped than id like to admit. mmm yeah that does make sense dw i hope they do that as well. YES king seungmin hIMSELF. GODDAMNIT DONT GET ME STARTED ON MINHO IN GODS MENU I DIDNT EVEN KNOW HE WAS PART OF THE GROUP UNTIL I STARTED GETTING MORE INTO THEM. BITCH (affectionate) THE LINE DISTRIBUTION HAS BEEN UTTER DOG SHIT but *deep breath* its better now so were moving on adn hoping it stays that way. sis same but i may or may not have gone thru a rlly depressed phase and actively sought out the elimination episodes so i could actually force some tears out of my emotionless shell of a heart but what cna you do? lmaoo i feel that irl, binnie deserves more vocal lines. yesss channies accent is rlly prominent then, i think also the way he structures his phrasing? is more english speaking than korean? but yeah i totally get what ur saying. AJKSAL lmao

okay then! im excited for whenever it gets done! (maybe tag me?) ahh the cold shrivelled heart of a dark au writer beats again at the thought of torturing another poor characters very soul (/j) :(( yeah that would suck not being able to see them. ohhh ur on the other hemisphere to me! were just going into spring rn. mmm smth to look forward to! YES you put it into words. they rlly are pretty independent from the company (remember how jyp rejected that other dudes songs after like 3 seconds and then how he was apparently nervous to show the song hed written to chan cos chan was so good at writing hits ahhh sweet revenge) mmmYES we rlly need a mute and remove notifications button for our brains dont we?

YES CORRECT i totally agree. some people jsut dont give it a try, adn assume its bad cos its korean smh racist assholes. yes! im coming up to my 6 month anniv actually! sis sAME, i feel like theyre being tugged into appealing to the western american market and theyre not staying as true to their artistic flair as a group, especially with only writing english songs atm. *sigh* ah well, at least theyre bringing recognition to the kpop world. AHUH dead on, theyre going to be discarded pretty soon and then where will bp be? theyll prob go solo paths which is rlly sad but what can you do when the company is run by a prideful asshole? yg is not going to last much longer in the big four if they keep this up.

hehe you get it. oooh very cool! whos ur ult? (sorry if youve said this before) mmmm yeah good decision, i feel liek thats probably a wise decision. this is my first album release as a kpop stan (not counting mixtape oh) so i think ill get it for sentiments sake. yeah! im excited for the new music! mingi was the one who got me into them, but atm my bias is seonghwa followed by san, wooyoung and ateez but jonghos high notes man *swoon* he, yeah atm ive got jake, jay, nikki, jungwon and sunoo down so just trying to get the rest :) heh, yeah kard i rlly only got into cos of bm, ive seen him like interacting with a lot of idols and he seemed nice so i decided to check out the group. ikr gunshot man *another swoon*

no noe! i didnt know what it was until i got it lol. thx toffee ill try and take that to mind :) yeah lol im on a waiting list thats not going to be free until late september so hopefully i can hold on until then. hope ur okay, that sounds like it sucks, hope you can find someone. maybe ill just take you along on my phone and the therapist can get a two for one patient deal lmaooo. mmm, sorry no i havent mentioned it before, i dont rlly talk abt it much. uhhh basically hypermobility? if you google it, it doesnt seem bad, jsut joint flexibility but ive got the severe end of the stick, leaning towards ehlers danlos syndrome so thats fun. basically it just makes it hard for me to exercise, run, jump, stand or just walk for long periods of time and gives me a lot of joint and muscle pain so... thats fun! but obviously so many other people have it worse than me, so i try not to complain. normally in young people it will improve as they get older, but my doctor said bc its severe in me, its unlikely to get much better. but again, i dont have the worst lot in the bunch, so its all g.

oh its good that its not the bad type of rain, a light sprinkling can be relaxing sometimes. aww thx darl, the concern is appreciated but it went pretty well and i managed not to cough too much on stage or kill myself trying to run around to the other side of the stage in the pouring rain so thats good! oooh tea buddies! my dogs a labradoodle, but shes a bit more of a feral poodle lol not much labrador in her at all, unless its her relentless urge to hunt down every bird that has ever walked this earth smh :((( hopefully they can come back on soon, does uni have dances?

ahhh a mood if i ever heard one. hopefully things will get better for you soon, ik anxiety sucks ass. ooh thats always good! when its sunny here, its always melt ur thongs to the pavement hot so the nicely cool sunny days are a lovely change. hehe impatience is not so good for you, but good for us that get to see ur beautiful theme early. ahh no worries, itll come eventually hopefully. and if not, then just things that make you not anxious are good. it doesnt have to be black or white, sometimes gray is good. mmmmm sames i have midterms this week to catch up on and then two weeks of end of terms so thats fun! i hope u can overcome that a little, heres some channie to be ur motivation https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a8LWyNjzOww. hah! i hear that all the time, he seems to be everywhere. did you see that tiktok of hans slowed back door rap, i stg it sounded EXACTLY like namjoon, it kinda scared me. also teh beginning of another day, sounds so much like joon i swear.

that reminds me! idk ur biases! i feel like this should be smth i should know so please! feel free to elaborate!

ahh im glad, i was worried it is. mmm same, so no hard feelings if either of us misses a day or smth. ill start worrying if weeks/months have gone by, but if its just a little while thats more than fine. ill just picture you studiously completing notes and i wont worry lol

<3 w.a. 🐺

at some point i really think i'm going to start blocking accounts because blocking tags won't be enough. i saw ask tags the other day and it just made me want to bleach my eyeballs.

i could talk about god's menu felix for hours man. the teaser for god's menu that featured his part on the bridge made me look forward to the mv release. you: biases chan, also you: lixiesbabyhands. yes you are more whipped than you think. i can't believe orange haired minho was given NOTHING during that era but they kind of made up for it in the b-sides. i also hope it stays that way. the distribution for this era was pretty fair.

"torturing another poor character's soul" in all honesty, i used to live for this. 2017 me leading up to early 2020 wrote nothing but angst. i have another aussie friend on twt and tbh i'm still really (O.o) about the seasons! jyp should be terrified skz could easily take over that company. heck if skz grow old and start their own company, they'd probably do a great job at running it. PLEASE. i have issues on muting/notifications both mentally and in real life. sometimes, i just wish to disappear.

some people in my country are just disgusting tbh. not only racist but homophobic too. they label kpop as 'gay' and it DISGUSTS me. it's a problematic behavior/mindset people in my country need to fucking get rid of. anyway, HELP ME 6 MONTHS??? and i've been in this shit for like a decade eye. tbh, i’m not fond of kpop groups trying to appeal to the western audience :// it feels like they’re losing their identity in a way. yes recognition but at what cost? yg has my favorite groups but that’s one shitty company when it comes to promoting.

okay my ult! it’s haechan from nct but i consider chan an ult too. like a close second above my whopping list of kpop boys. oh yes! you should get the album just for like a keepsake? remembrance? how did mingi appeal to you? omg did you start getting interested in ateez back when he was still on hiatus? NOT YOU BIASING THE SAME PEOPLE I DID WHEN I FIRST STARTED STANNING. the infamous ateez thot-line. jongho is easily one of the best fourth gen vocalists out here, no one can change my mind :( good luck with memorizing the rest of enhypen! just in time for the comeback too. i hope i’ll get into kard soon but i’m pretty content (and a tad bit overwhelmed) with the amount of groups i stan right now.

please hold on though, feel free to vent here if you like. thanks for the offer tho HAHA but like i’ll try to get checked here too when the cases die down a bit. i’m sorry to hear about your condition though :( please don’t ever overwork yourself to the point that your joints/muscles would ache. it’s completely valid to complain about it tho. i get that you have others in mind but keeping that mindset really doesn’t do you (like you internally) any better? so if you need to, vent your frustrations out and don’t keep it in.

oh my god, about your performance last sunday. was the stage out in the open? glad you didn’t cough too much and did well on your concert. i’m proud of you! i can never understand dogs and poor birds T_T uni doesn’t have dances unfortunately. i think there’s just one party at the end like a graduation ball. what year are you in anyway? if it’s something that you’re fine with sharing. if not, it’s cool.

good luck with your exams! and thanks for the link! AHA what a cutie. i think he does this motivation thing once in a while during his lives and it’s just comforting. yeah joon and han my irl just freaked when we made that discovery. ult crumbs for her. oh god not me forgetting about every biases when you asked. you can ask for my biases in a few groups just list down the one’s you’re interested in knowing. 

i missed yesterday because i was grinding and finishing what if we stay + school work. finally did it today. i’m sure i’ll reply in like a day or two, definitely not a month unless i state otherwise. if i ever decide to abandon this blog, i’ll let you know.

[numberonephanboy-blog]

Saved by a Stray pt. 1

(Reposting bc i fixed some of the mistakes)

Warnings: uhh pre smut ig (but not until the end). Mentions of fighting. My horrendous grammar.

It gets better a you go on, I just suck at starts.

Dan’s P.O.V

I know this is beyond cheesy and cliché, but Phil and I are secret agents. We’re part of this really special unit from our faction that was formed in the after math of the worlds destruction. And when together we’re one of the best working teams out there. Finding partner, in the post-apocalyptic state that we call the world, is next to impossible. So Phil and I have a pact, as long as feelings aren’t involved, we can get each other off from time to time. Our friend Chris is currently in trouble and all I can think about the past three days is trading myself for his release. Which brings us to our current situation.

A bear of a man approached me and offered me a cup of beer. Well, what was considered beer. I said my thanks even though I knew fully well I wouldn’t be drinking it. Can’t be alert with this slush running through your veins.

“Can’t have the good hero boy feeling left out on the beer,” he said with a grin. He had at least six long scars across his face, making him appear far more menacing.

Thank you.“ I said again.

“No prob. Hey I saw your fight the last time you were in this area. Not that you could call it one. You were too hard core for it to be fair. But, man I was blown away. Never seen anything like it.” he peered at me from under a thick fan of lashes. /Ew/ I thought to myself. “So…how do you do it? Do you have like a special trick or move? There has to be some secret to that nimble body of yours.”

I suppress the need to cringe inwardly. “It’s just something I do, special training I guess, good reflexes.”

“Well, you should think about getting in the pit tonight. We’ve been talking about you, and the guys that missed it will do just anything for the chance to watch you work.”

The pit. In this faction most of the agents are all hyped and vamped to get in the pit and test each others strengths. The one and only time I was in the pit, I took every single person that was thrown at me. That night I wasn’t thinking clearly and needed a quick way to blow off some stream. “Maybe another time,” I said. To me, fighting was a business-a privilege-not a sport.

Phil appeared at my side, glaring at the man who then, holding up his hands, backed off. Phil took my arm and pulled me away.

“We found out what Hodad means,” he said the moment we were alone. All the reprimand I was about to say suddenly died out.

“Well? Tell me.” I demanded.

Taking the cup of beer from my hands he says, “Hands of death and destruction.”

Oh….well fuck.

“Chase’s men also found out where Dr. Sans Cœur has been hiding” he adds. “They’re sending a team to bring him here. He might be able to tell us where chris is being kept.”

“You’re not going?” I asked.

“I delegated. Come on.” He led me out of the building and across the cold, barren field.

“Where are we going?”

“The safe house.” he replies easily.

Alone? For a lecture…or something else?

He led me to a small, dark, painted house with a password on the door. After punching in the code, we walked in together. The room is darkly lit with a big hand-knitted rug in front of a fireplace. The walls are painted where there used to be blank drywall.

“It’s been furnished,” I say surprised.

“Only this room.” He says while building a fire. “ look, I know you and I know you’re thinking it’ll be okay for you to trade yourself for Chris.”

Lecture. Great. I got comfortable on the rug.

“But it’s not okay. Not now, not later. And don’t even think about arguing. I lead our group mission. Hence, I lead you. I make the decisions, and you do what I say.”

This is the same Phil right? Not a replacement clone? “The only reason I’m not knocking you to your knees and making you beg for mercy right now is because I know you’re speaking from a place of deep concern for me. But, Phil? You are seriously irritating the shit out of me.”

He sat down in front of me. I yanked at the collar of his shirt and let the material snap back into place.

“You’re either my best friend or my boss,” I said. “You can’t be both. Pick one.”

He scooted closer to me so close I basically had to straddle his lap to remain upright. Big hardship. His chest brushed against mine, and whether accidental or intentional, it sent a thrill through my entire body.

“Boss then.” He says coolly.

As different, emotions played havoc with my heartbeat, the scent of strawberries teased me.“Best case scenario, I don’t have to trade myself and Dr. Sans Cœur will think I’m willing. And yea he’ll try to double cross us like we’re doing to him, but you’re acting like we don’t have a chance.” I try hiding my breathlessness as he runs a hand down the knoches in my spine. “There’s a chance I can save our friend.”

“A chance you could be tortured or killed.” He says with conflicting emotions.

We’re getting dangerously close to that line that we weren’t supposed to cross. So in attempts to getting us off that path I tighten my grip on him. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” I sigh.

“Fine, just don’t go being a hero. Yea we’re good guys and we fight for what’s right, but I’m in charge and we need to do things my way.” He says, pulling my body closer.

“Agreed. As long as your way is my way.”

“You’re right, let’s for get this for now. I have a better use for your mouth.”

“Way ahead of you.” I chime in before connecting out lips. I place my hand on his shoulders and push him down into the rug, but he’s quick to roll us over.

This is always my favorite part. Fighting for whose on top. Phil wins almost every time, but not because he stronger than me, its because somewhere inside myself, I know I like having his weight pressing down on me.

He’s fast as he takes my hands and pins them down, having learned I’d use them to flip us back around. He smile down at me wickedly before diving back in for a rough kiss. I kiss back with just as much enthusiasm.

“Is this you’re way of distracting me?” I ask, making sure my voice is extra breathy. I press my body up against his. “It’s working.” I then quickly take advantage of him thinking that he’d won already and flip us over. My hands now trapped his, my legs still wrapped around his waist.

“Mmm,” I sigh happily. “It’s been weeks since we’ve done this.”

“What?” He responds with another wicked smile, “Laying here…talking?”

I rock my hips against his, “you know what I mean…kissing.” I place hot kisses to his jaw, “Touching…” I run my hands up his sides and over his chest. “Everything.” I say actually breathless. He flips us around for a final time.

“Dan.” He groans.

Alright well needless to say, we fucked. Again. For I’m not even sure what time, we’ve done it so much, but anyway, i’m running out of time for this journal entry thing so I’ll leave it here for now.

-DH

A/N Hi so I’m Toby and this is my first time writing and posting a fic i’m hella scared to be perfectly honest but whatever. This was heavily inspired by a book I read like 4 years ago. If you have suggestions or want me to continue with this let me know. Thanks guys :)

[its-love-u-asshole]

Slipping Underneath [Ch. 2]

Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei

Summary: Tsukishima was in some deep shit he realized, but common sense told him he should have been rather happy about the discovery he’d just made. Of course, that didn’t stop him from freaking out.

“Tsukki? Did something happen?” Bokuto asked.

Dejected, the blond lifted his head, giving Bokuto the flattest stare he could manage. “The neighbor downstairs hates my voice.”

Rating: T

Tags: soulmates, mythology/sirens AU, some iwaoi and bokuaka thrown in bc why not, first meetings, fluff, Kuroo is a nerd and Tsukki can’t help but be charmed, Siren!Tsukki, Siren!Bokuto

Note: Thanks to @emeraldwaves for reading this over as always! This fic continues to be a lot of fun to write so I hope it shows lol. Enjoy! 

AO3

From that point forward, Kuroo made sure to get his ass out of bed at the same exact time everyday. Even when he had no classes to speak of, he got up and left the safety of his home, just to go get his mail.

His phone would chime, and he'd silence it instantly, springing out from under his comforter to force on acceptable attire (sweats). He'd fumble and curse, and depending on the day Oikawa would yell at him to shut up from the room next door, but it hardly mattered. He would blink the tiredness out of his eyes, scurry out the door and knock into a few walls in the process (hey, he'd just woken up okay?), and then chose to take the stairs to the lobby floor because the elevator just took too damn long.

All to make it to the dimly lit corridor where a certain blond stood, regal and reserved as ever.

This part never had a plan.

Dammit.

Today was the fourth day of his dumbass new routine, and yet he still found his breath taken away by the sight of the blond staring at him like he had some sort of disease.

Tsukishima. Tsukki, as Kuroo had been fondly calling him in his daydreams.

Even with such a disinterested face, he looked like some sort of model.

"...Hey." He practically squeezed the word out, given his lungs were still a bit winded from the sudden exercise. He leaned against a row of mailboxes, trying to keep his breathing from sounding too loud.

Yeah man, just act cool. You're the fuckin' coolest.

The blond looked him up and down, scrutinizing every detail in a way that made Kuroo feel like he was being graded on something, until he finally spoke up. "Did you run all the way down here just to tell me that?"

Fuck.

"Maybe." Welp, there goes trying to lie. What was wrong with him lately? It was like he didn't know how to talk anymore when it came to Tsukishima. Kuroo was a damn artist with words, for crying out loud. His puns spoke for themselves really, but more evidence existed.

Tsukishima's eyes widened at the straightforward admission, but soon they were crinkling in amusement which made all of Kuroo's embarrassment worth it.

"You're weird, and you obviously need to go back to the bed," Tsukishima continued, wrapping his arms around the books he'd been carrying. Huh, I wonder if he does that when he's nervous. Kuroo had started to notice it on day two, but it hadn't gotten any less endearing.

"What was it this time? Exam prep until two in the morning?" Tsukishima asked, seeing as it was midterm season.

Ha.

"Video games until four," Kuroo said smugly, like he was oh so proud. It got another snort out of the blond. God, it was music to his ears.

"How studious."

"I know right? Don't you wish you were me?"

"Mmm," Tsukishima started to hum, and Kuroo willed himself not to take the sound and let his imagination run wild with it. He did not need to pop a boner right now.

Then Tsukishima was pointing at his head, unaware of Kuroo's less than decent thoughts. "No, because then I'd have to deal with that rat's nest you call hair."

"What?" Kuroo made a choked noise, stumbling back as if he'd been punched, and Tsukishima rolled his eyes. "Evil and rude."

"Well, it wouldn't be like that if you actually took care of it when you woke up," Tsukishima deadpanned. "Or it wouldn't look as bad at least."

Ouch, nail on the head.

Kuroo had hardly glanced at his appearance apart from his clothes this morning, too preoccupied with making it downstairs in time to see the blond who'd been strangely taking over his thoughts. Their first meeting hadn't exactly been ideal, but Kuroo truly did want to know more about the blond. He was reserved, but his sense of humor definitely existed, and Kuroo definitely liked it. Bad singing aside, Tsukishima's voice was calming, pleasant even. Not to mention he was gorgeous, but that was a given.

Even with those qualities alone, Kuroo felt drawn to him, and yet they weren't nearly enough to completely justify his attraction. Having a small crush was one thing, but Kuroo wanted to talk to Tsukishima and find out even more before acknowledging that he was completely taken by the other.

So...fuck it?

Kuroo always did believe honesty was the best policy.

"Yeah well, taming my hair to an at least semi-acceptable state takes around...eh...ten minutes?" Kuroo began, talking about it like it was one of his many science experiments. And really it might as well have been. He tested and timed himself enough times, back when he'd actually had hope for his unruly hair to sit flat.

Tsukishima brought a hand up to his mouth, concealing a smile which Kuroo had to restrain himself from beaming about. It was a nice distraction at least, putting his effort into that instead of focusing on his own heartbeat.

Ah well, here goes nothing.

"But uh, if I wasted time doing that I wouldn't make it down here in time to talk to you...so...yeah."

The silence was intense enough that Kuroo could hear the leaking pipes dripping, could hear a door slam on the floor above them. Basically, it was awful, but he held his ground. And oh, how he was grateful he had.

Tsukishima's cheeks lit up like Christmas lights, the red hue soft and noticeable regardless of the dim lighting of the hallway. Kuroo felt his lungs deflate as he forced himself to let out the breath he'd been holding, because he needed more oxygen asap.

But he wasn't totally out of the woods yet he supposed. Tsukishima's eyes flitted between Kuroo and the floor, his teeth nibbling at his lower lip (also unfair, Kuroo couldn't take this). He was searching for a response, and Kuroo didn't know if it was a good sign or not.

Maybe he'd been too upfront, as he tended to do. Shit.

Damage control. Damage control would be good. The last thing he wanted was for Tsukishima to be uncomfortable.

"Uh, what I mean is--"

"I don't think talking to someone in front of mailboxes is very traditional," the blond muttered, eyes staying glued to the floor.

Oh...

Kuroo felt a chill of anticipation flow down his spine, and his stomach churned from the nerves. But again, what was the point in lying now?

Be smooth dude.

"Then...would you like to talk to me somewhere else?" Kuroo asked, feeling suddenly hopeful. It wasn't like he had anything to lose here, other than his pride maybe. But it was worth it. The flush on Tsukishima's face and the stunned look from those honey brown eyes made it worth it.

The blond's grip on his books tightened, but he didn't brush Kuroo off, or turn away. He shrugged, as if uninterested, and began to stuff his mail into his bag. "Depends on where."

Kuroo couldn't list places fast enough. "We could go grab coffee, or go to the movies, or the mall, do you like the mall? I know some people hate it--"

"Kuroo-san."

"Bowling is always fun--"

"Kuroo-san."

"Or there's dinner, a classic really--"

"Kuroo-san." Tsukishima spoke firmly this time, enough to put an end to Kuroo's babbling at least, and the raven stared at him like a puppy waiting for a treat.

So much for being cool.

Tsukishima rubbed at the back of his neck, and Kuroo felt his heart seize a bit. Ah damn, that's not a good sign.

"I have a lot of studying to do, actually, so..." Tsukishima said, eyeing Kuroo curiously.

So, no can do.

He'd been too pushy yet again. Dammit.

Kuroo all but deflated. His shoulders sagged, and he willed his face not to show any disappointment as he registered the rejection. "Oh..well, some other time then I guess." Even he wanted to wince at how pitiful he sounded.

This shouldn't hurt as much as it did, he'd only just met Tsukishima. But it felt like he needed to down three tubs of ice cream regardless, just to soothe his wounds.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, the awkward tension around them still hanging in the air like a jerk. The universe hated Kuroo, obviously.

"Oh, yeah," Tsukishima said, turning away, and Kuroo perked up. He almost thought he saw the blond's body sag as well, his eyes seeming a little less bright than usual. Tsukishima wasn't exactly the most expressive person, so far anyways, but Kuroo knew that look on anyone. He could feel it in the air. Disappointment.

Wait--

Tsukishima gave an awkward wave, making his way towards the building's exit. "Well, I have to go to class. Bye--"

"Tsukki!" Kuroo let the nickname slip, but he didn't have time to be sheepish about it as he grabbed Tsukishima's arm. "What about the study rooms they have here? We can study together later, with breaks of course."

Breaks, as in breaks for talking.

A study date.

It would be his last effort. If Tsukishima turned this down, then he'd know for sure it was because the blond wanted nothing to do with him. But if his suspicions were correct...

If he wants me to keep trying, I'll keep trying.

Those piercing eyes widened, the brightness seeping back into them like a light show, and wow Kuroo was so fucking gay. "You--"

"Like a date, study date," Kuroo clarified, because he'd be damned if things got taken the wrong way. "If you want."

Please want to.

Kuroo realized he was still gripping the other a bit too intimately, and he let go with an apologetic smile. His hand burned, aching to feel the soft skin again. So not the time.

After a few more seconds, the doubt was threatening to invade his chest once more, but he wondered if the blond had done that one purpose. Because as soon as it started, Tsukishima, in all his stubborn, beautiful glory, fixed him with what was nothing less than a full on pout. "I guess. I'll be back from campus by five."

I'll meet you there, went unsaid, but Kuroo heard it loud and clear. What a tease.

But then again, Kuroo loved it.

He nodded, grin way too big for the hour of the morning, and watched as Tsukishima left, obviously late for class. Hopefully the blond thought it was worth it.

All he knew for sure was that he couldn't wait for the evening to come.

"See you then," Kuroo said, his dreamy tone echoing off the peeling walls, heard by no other soul.

--

"Are you humming?"

Bokuto's sudden entrance nearly made Tsukishima drop his watering can. He cursed as some of the water sloshed out, luckily onto the ground. These particular flowers were delicate, he didn't want to give them more water than necessary.

"Excuse me?" The blond wasn't exactly in the mood to talk, but he'd had Bokuto by his side since childhood, so his friend's loudness and constant chatter was something he'd grown pretty immune to.

"You were humming, like full on Disney princess humming," Bokuto went on, smirking in the doorway to the school's greenhouse. Tsukishima volunteered here because...well, gardening was rather calming, plus no one else was really lining up to upkeep the place. Therefore, it gave him a nice isolated place to sing other than his apartment.

Or, it was supposed to. Bokuto often visited in between his lectures, regardless of Tsukishima's threats to throw fertilizer at him if he did it more than twice a week.

"First off, I have no idea what that means," Tsukishima deadpanned, taking off his gloves. "Second, singing and humming is kind of what we do, remember?"

Bokuto pouted, but didn't give up, trudging forward until he was right beside the blond. "Yes, but you've been humming all day! Not just in private. You never do that," Bokuto said, playfully poking Tsukishima's side.

The blond wretched away irritably, focusing on potting the small plants in the nearby soil. "No, I haven't been," he snapped, and guilt coiled traitorously in his gut when Bokuto flinched.

"I haven't," he repeated, calmer this time as he continued his task. It was all Bokuto needed to perk up again, picking up where he left off.

Tsukishima should've let him sulk.

"Uh huh. In Music Theory you were humming during the quiz, all the guys were staring."

Tsukishima sputtered, eyes widening at the memory of hundreds of eyes on him as he'd walked out of discussion. "That's--"

"And then, you were singing under your breath after lunch, while you were going over your notes!" Bokuto pointed an accusatory finger right in his face, like he was unearthing some sort of conspiracy. "Three guys asked you out in the food court, and that was just before you managed to leave."

Oh right. Idiots. Why couldn't people just leave Tsukishima alone?

Because your voice is the vocal equivalent of an aphrodisiac. Right.

"That happens to both of us sometimes," Tsukishima tried, hoping Bokuto would drop it.

No such luck.

"Yeah but it's rare for you, especially that many times in one day! C'mon Tsukki...you were humming at the coffee shop too, the barista gave you free coffee!"

"He might've just been a terrible employee."

"Tsukki. You know what I'm getting at..."

"No." Tsukishima threw his tools down, pushing soil onto his pants, and his first thought was that now he'd have to go home and change before meeting Kuroo. Stupid.

"There's nothing to get at, stop being insufferable already," Tsukishima hissed, and Bokuto whined beside him.

"It's cute though! You're happy!" Bokuto threw his hands up, cheering, and Tsukishima felt he'd had enough. He began cleaning up at once, eager to move onto the next part of his day. He'd be early for his next class, but whatever. The longer he stayed, the more likely Bokuto was to find out about his study date, and that would make the other's excitement twenty times worse.

Tsukishima couldn't take the teasing. It would be payback for all the jabs and comments he'd made when they'd first met Akaashi.

Nope. No.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

Tsukishima was getting a damn headache. The worst part was that they tended to do this quite often, a habit they'd forgotten to leave back in their childhood.

Besides, Bokuto was, as they say, full of absolute crap. Sure, it was rumored that a lot of a siren's mannerisms and habits could be traced back to their emotions, but Tsukishima had never busied himself with learning any of that garbage. It was more myth than anything. Sirens sang more when happy, less when upset, faster when angry, blah, blah, blah. There were no concrete facts, so Tsukishima refused to entertain the idea at all.

He didn't believe anything Bokuto said, and he was definitely not blushing.

And he didn't care either way that he had a date tonight. Not a bit.

With that, he shoved his friend out of the way as he pulled on his backpack, stomping out of the greenhouse and leaving Bokuto's dreadful laughter behind.

--

"Um...you're a..music...major? Wow, that's, uh, great!"

Tsukishima looked about two seconds away from slapping him, his eyes void of any life or amusement.

Kuroo smiled awkwardly as he leafed through his chemistry textbook, as if it would provide him all the answers as to why all of a sudden he was a huge fucking disgrace.

"Uh no, wait--"

"It's a surprise isn't it?" Tsukishima said softly, lips quirking up finally.

Okay, I didn't completely fuck up then.

Right?

"Huh?" Kuroo asked, pausing in his efforts to take out his pencil case.

"Because my singing is so awful," Tsukishima continued, his smile growing more and more. "Me being a music major is weird. Right?"

Well, yes. But--

"Is this a trick question?" Kuroo asked, putting his hands up. "I surrender if it is, last thing I want is to offend you."

The blond only laughed, a beautiful sound, waving him off as he too opened up his textbook. "No, I don't mind. I know I'm a bad singer, but I don't think it's necessary. I like what I study."

Kuroo's nerves settled again, and he chuckled lightly. Conversation was never boring with the blond it seemed, he was clever, and his tongue was sharp.

If Kuroo was being honest, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so attracted to someone, eager to hear whatever came out of their mouth.

"You're just a music major? I know a lot of people double when it comes to the art school," Kuroo asked, wishing they didn't actually have to study so he could ask his questions. How was he supposed to focus on formulas when there was an angel sitting across from him?

Ah shit. He was being cheesy in his thoughts too. He was a goner.

"Computer science too," Tsukishima shrugged. "It's practical and I'm good at it."

"You must be pretty smart then," Kuroo said, and he couldn't help the bit of fondness which leaked into his tone.

The blond tensed up immediately, flushing a bit as he scowled at his book. "I don't think I'm much better than everyone else in the major."

"Oh?" Kuroo couldn't help but smile. Tsukishima was far too humble. Music major or not, carrying two was no easy task, and from how extensive Tsukishima's notes seemed to be, there was no way he didn't do well in his classes.

Kuroo could see the neat handwriting, the gentle scrawl outlining important notes and major points to study, all color coded. Kuroo was no slouch himself when it came to school, but he was impressed all the same.

"Chemistry doesn't sound all that relaxing," Tsukishima said, and the look he sent Kuroo's way was nothing less than expectant.

Oh, he's trying to learn about me. That's so cute.

"Yeah but I've always had a knack for it," Kuroo said, proud as ever. It wasn't that he was arrogant about his intelligence per se, but he took a lot of satisfaction in being skilled at what he loved doing, and helping others learn it. "There's a lot of work, but I guess it'll be worth it in the end. I get crap for it sometimes but, no use listening to it."

"Mm," Tsukishima hummed, seemingly satisfied with the answer, and it only fueled Kuroo's curiosity. "I guess that's well put..."

"Oho, a compliment?"

"Don't read too much into it," Tsukishima said with a click of his tongue, bouncing his pencil on Kuroo's textbook. "We're supposed to be studying remember."

Kuroo laughed, mildly disappointed their conversation had ended. But well, Kuroo planned on taking many, many breaks. So it was all good. "Yes sir."

Soon, they descended into their own quiet worlds, but it wasn't awkward. The gentle scratch of pencils on paper, accompanied with the turning of pages was actually quite comforting. It had been a while since Kuroo had studied with anyone, and while the blond could be distracting every now and again, he was covering a good amount of ground.

They had the small study room to themselves, given Midterm Panic™ probably wasn't for a few more days. Complete freedom, complete privacy. Kuroo had never felt more grateful. 

They were a few minutes past the one hour mark when Kuroo started to feel it though, and he was reminded of how working in the library had never worked for him in the past.

Too quiet. Much too quiet.

Kuroo had never done well with that. While he needed a certain degree of silence to focus, the total absence of background noise jarred him, drove him absolutely nuts. The constant buzz of nothing was making it harder to focus than had someone been chatting it up a few tables down.

Back in his first year, he'd learned he could only study in places where there was at least some degree of noise. Nothing extreme, maybe some whispers here or there, music playing through someone's headphones too loudly, or even the occasional footsteps as people paced the rows of the library. He needed something. The balcony had never been an issue because, well, simply being outside provided all the background noise he'd needed, without being overwhelming. Insects, people passing, cars driving, and whatever else.

Here he didn't have that though, and it was getting to him. Kuroo started clicking his pen profusely, and it still wasn't enough. Then came the foot tapping, then the knocking on the desk, all in an effort to create some kind of illusion that things weren't completely dead in the room.

"What's wrong?"

Apparently, Kuroo was being louder than he thought.

He met Tsukishima's confused stare, and once more, debated shrugging it off as nothing. But again, those eyes on him made him seem incapable of lying, even if he did want to. He sighed, smiling sheepishly.

"Ah, it's nothing. It's hard for me to focus sometimes without background noise," Kuroo explained, knowing it sounded sort of weird. "On the balcony I usually have all the sounds of nature and shit, so I kinda forgot it bothered me."

"Oh, Bokuto is like that too..."

"Hm?"

Tsukishima's eyes widened a bit, like he'd spoken without realizing, and the light flush which accompanied it was beyond appealing. "Nothing...my roommate is the same way. He listens to music when he studies. Well, if you could call all the procrastinating he does studying."

Kuroo chuckled. He didn't want to let the conversation die now that it had started. Tsukishima was actually sharing things about his life, and Kuroo drank in every single detail, wanting more. But of course, he had to say something.

To think the day would come where he dreaded being a chatterbox.

"Music is a little too distracting, I need like...ambient noise you know?"

"Do you want my headphones?" Tsukishima barely finished asking the question before he was tensing up, his lips shutting in record time.

Kuroo blinked, weirdly giddy about the offer. God, they were just headphones, not a wedding ring. "Uh, you don't mind?"

Again, Tsukishima looked taken aback, but he reached for his bag regardless. "Whatever, just don't break them. Can't believe this..."

Tsukishima's mutterings were amusing, as was the way he tried to seem annoyed at his own generosity. Weirdo.

"I'll guard them with my life." Kuroo saluted, but as soon as he saw the headphones, he almost didn't dare touch them.

They were nice, and that was an understatement. They were obviously top of the line, those large, noise canceling type headphones that actual singers used. They were sleek and silver, shining like they'd just come out of the box. They must've cost the blond a fortune, and Kuroo nearly refused them. It was like he wasn't worthy, as someone who normally bought the shitty gas station headphones.

"Problem?" Tsukishima asked, watching Kuroo intently.

"N-no, these are just super expensive! Thanks for letting me use 'em," Kuroo said, beaming as he connected them to his phone. Finding some noise app shouldn't be too tough...

Tsukishima blushed again, glaring at nothing in particular. "Whatever..."

Singing on his patio, studying music theory, and the best headphones on the market. Tsukishima hid his adoration well, but Kuroo knew how to read people, knew how to pick up on every single hint and clue. So really, Tsukishima actually wasn't hiding much. Or at least, Kuroo didn't think so. He didn't know much about Tsukishima yet, but he did know this, and it made him all the more enthralled.

"You must really like music huh?"

The comment had been a simple observation, but from the way Tsukishima's eyes brightened, his muscles relaxing almost against his will, Kuroo had said exactly the right thing.

Tsukishima shrugged weakly, unable to do much more, his features softening as he tried to hold in a smile. "I guess."

There was so much more held behind that answer, and Kuroo thought to hell with studying. He wanted Tsukishima to tell him everything, because there was no way the blond didn't have an opinion on it.

He set the headphones down on the table, no longer needing them, much to Tsukishima's confusion. He closed his textbook, and grinned from across the table at the blond's confusion riddled face.

Again, still pretty.

The questions ran through Kuroo's head, a force all their own. There were so many places he could start, it was hard to choose, but whatever, he would be there all night if he had to.

Best to just start simple.

"Do you have any favorite bands?"

--

They'd scheduled their study date for three hours. They were nearing the fifth.

"I can't believe you actually think that's a good movie, I can't associate with you now," Tsukishima said, blunt as ever. But no, Kuroo was not about to lose this debate.

"The effects were amazing! And we got all that backstory from the previous movie!"

"Not enough," Tsukishima insisted, using his book as a shield instead of reading any of the information inside of it. Kuroo thought maybe it was to keep the blond from slamming his hands on the table, like the raven had started to do.

Things were heated, alright?

"What is that supposed to mean?" Kuroo waited, ready to pick apart any number of points Tsukishima thought to bring up.

Kuroo didn't give a damn if he was being stubborn, he loved horror movies, especially ones of the alien sub genre.

Plus, this was incredibly fun. More fun than he'd had in a long time.

"They kept teasing us with random flashbacks that were twice as interesting as the actual movie's plot," Tsukishima said. "If they wanted to make a better film, they'd make a prequel instead of just giving us gore scenes for the sake of gore."

"What's wrong with gore?"

"Nothing, but without a storyline it just gets boring," Tsukishima said, rolling his eyes. The blond had been getting more and more expressive as their conversation continued, his voice growing louder and more exasperated as they debated. It was awesome. "And you can't seriously tell me you enjoyed the forced romance at the end."

Kuroo winced. Okay yeah, that was bad.

Tsukishima smiled, smug and victorious, and hell, Kuroo was ready to surrender just to make sure it didn't fall.

Ugh. Fine.

"Can we at least agree that it was better than the previous installment?"

Tsukishima pursed his lips, contemplative, before clicking his tongue in defeat. "Fine."

As if to signal the truce, Kuroo's phone lit up with a text from Oikawa, asking whether or not he'd been murdered.

How thoughtful.

He agreed about the lateness though. The sun had set long ago, and while it was nowhere near his usual bedtime, he didn't want to keep Tsukishima longer than he wanted. The blond obviously woke up way before Kuroo normally did. He'd have to ask about his class schedule sometime, if he found a way to be non-creepy about it.

"Guess we better pack it in before my roommate calls the police to report me missing," Kuroo said, pocketing his phone and joining Tsukishima in packing up his various untouched books. He'd gotten through one chapter, which was hardly enough, but oh well. He didn't regret slacking off.

After they'd gotten into the music conversation, Tsukishima had opened up. Not all at once of course, given he seemed like just a cautious person in general. But Kuroo knew what questions to ask, what responses to prod at, and soon he was trusted enough to make Tsukishima spill the goods.

First off, whether or not Tsukishima liked to admit it, the other didn't just like music. He straight out loved it. He had over six hundred songs on just his phone alone, and tons of knowledge about various artists and instruments at the drop of a hat. The trivia was interesting, but mostly it was attractive. Not the facts themselves, but the way Tsukishima's eyes flashed with recognition and concealed excitement every time Kuroo referenced a particular song or album.

If the saying was true, and people became ten times more beautiful when talking about things they were passionate about, then Tsukishima should've been illegally gorgeous.

And he was.

Talks about music, during which Kuroo had been recced several bands (thank you Tsukki), the conversation had bled into movie soundtracks, which led to favorite movies, which to favorite genres, and so forth.

Kuroo's throat protested somewhat from all the talking, dry and in desperate need of water. Tsukishima constantly cleared his throat as well, probably in the same boat. The other still seemed stunned, much like Kuroo, about how much they'd actually talked.

Kuroo was on cloud nine, and he only hoped Tsukishima felt the same way.

As if sensing the weird aura of joy Kuroo was no doubt giving off, Tsukishima looked up from where he was zipping up his bag, making eye contact. They'd been talking face to face for several hours, so it shouldn't have been a big deal, but Kuroo still felt a pleasant chill run through his body.

Yeah, you're a goner dude.

"Um, I'll walk you to your door." Kuroo stood, taking his own backpack as he handed Tsukishima his headphones.

The blond reached out to grab them, his hands landing awkwardly on the sides, close to where Kuroo had gripped them. Their fingertips brushed against each other barely, not even for two seconds, but it made Kuroo's night all the same.

Tsukishima nodded, hiding his face in his coat's collar. "Yeah, okay."

--

Tsukishima didn't know what the hell was wrong with him.

He'd talked more to Kuroo in the past six hours than he had the entire school year, at least to anyone but his friends. And he'd shared his stupid interests too...

Why had he done that?

Going on and on about his dumb songs on his phone and movie soundtracks, who cared about that kind of thing? Why did he care if anyone cared?

This is annoying.

And offering his headphones? His most prized possession? He hardly let those things out of his sight, much less out of his care. Giving them to someone else was essentially unheard of. Bokuto borrowed them once without asking and Tsukishima had eaten all the other's pop tarts in retaliation, carbs be damned. He hated pop tarts.

Fucking savage.

And yet he'd willingly handed them over to Kuroo without any kind of protest. Something was seriously wrong. Maybe he was getting sick...

Yet, as the elevator opened to his floor, he knew it wasn't the case. The rapid beating of his heart and the strange disappointment welling up inside him couldn't be blamed on the common cold.

He wasn't too fond of the alternative answer either, at least...not yet. Tsukishima kept telling himself Kuroo was still being tested, but he wasn't quite sure where he planned on drawing the line when it came to proof.

Kuroo followed him to his door, their steps being the only sound in the building. They'd been talking just fine all the way up, but now...

The silence was thick, the air around them charged in a way which made no sense. It had been a date technically, Tsukishima had agreed to it. What did people do after dates?

What did Tsukishima want?

He'd never been in this situation before, where a strange yearning kept building in his chest. A situation where something seemed to be missing, where there was an unknown next move begging to be taken.

He tried not to think about it as he dug out his house key. Maybe once he opened the door everything would fade away, though that didn't exactly feel right either.

Why did everything about this have to be so annoying? All because he'd decided to sing freely on his balcony one night...

Kuroo leaned against the hallway wall, watching him intently, his face giving nothing away for once. He was focused, almost terrifying so, on Tsukishima hands as they fished out the key ring.

An excited surge traveled through Tsukishima, making his skin heat up. He often hated being the center of attention, but Kuroo was starting to make him greedy.

And whatever, Tsukishima was fine being a brat, even if he didn't acknowledge the feelings behind it yet.

"See you later I guess," Tsukishima finally said, still debating on whether or not it was polite to thank Kuroo for a study date where they hadn't actually studied. Instead, he bit his lip and shoved his key into the slot.

"Next Friday," Kuroo said, and Tsukishima's hand froze as the lock clicked.

"Huh?"

"Go out with me next Friday, once midterms are over," Kuroo said, smiling in apology. "Since it's pretty obvious we can't study together."

Tsukishima, with no other real solution for how fast his heart was beating, resorted to his best skill. "You were the one who wouldn't shut up."

"Hey."

"Where?" Tsukishima asked, unable to contain the stupid question. He refused to admit he was eager, or even elated than Kuroo had asked him out again. The raven was just a chemistry nerd with bad jokes and worse hair, which somehow (probably through witchcraft) ended up looking attractive.

Ugh.

Kuroo, to put it lightly, looked baffled. "Oh, you want to go? Really? With me? Okay, uh..."

Tsukishima couldn't help but snort. "Did you not think this far ahead?"

"To be honest I'm pretty convinced I'm dreaming, so no," Kuroo sighed, his tone almost too dreamy to be taken seriously. Embarrassing. Who was this guy?

Although, I wouldn't be surprised if I was dreaming either.

Tsukishima tried not to flush from his own thoughts.

"Either way, you can still answer the question," the blond muttered, suddenly unsure of what to do and where to look. His hands were still on his keys and the door handle, frozen awkwardly and no doubt clammy as hell.

"Bowling?" Kuroo offered, his grin already growing.

"Bowling?" Tsukishima repeated, squinting a bit. It wasn't a bad idea, just a bit non-traditional, not to mention random. "Why?"

"First off, because it's fun," Kuroo said, like it was common sense. "But mostly because I just wanna kick your ass."

The admission literally made him tense. After all, since when did Tsukishima back down from a challenge?

He hated losing.

He wouldn't lose.

With a smirk powerful enough to intimidate death itself, Tsukishima pushed his door open.

"You're on."