#on sunny days it is stupid hot in this room

[kitasuno]

with you, i'm first | miya osamu x reader

in which miya osamu is used to coming second to his brother. but with you, he's always first.

wc: 1113 | gn!reader | fluff

Miya Osamu is used to coming second. 

It starts with Atsumu, like most things do. October is cold and gray and Atsumu comes first, a small body with a large presence that fills the warm hospital room. His cries are loud and he’s a little underweight, but with him comes the sun. 

Atsumu is born under a partly cloudy sky but the nurses swear he was shrouded in sunlight. 

Osamu comes twelve minutes later. His parents are crying and his Ma is close to passing out. If he thinks really hard he can almost feel her warmth, Atsumu’s sobs, and a mumble of prayers that October has safely brought Atsumu and then Osamu.

He asks Grandma one day what the weather was like when he was born. She says, with confidence, it was foggy.

Atsumu doesn’t get along with his classmates. He is too loud and too rash and lacks social cues, and Osamu is angry because Stupid ‘Tsumu cares too little: and he wants everyone to know Atsumu like he knows Atsumu.

They fight and they yell and they argue until Atsumu says, 

‘Samu, I don’t care about ‘em. Why do ya care so much? 

And Osamu throws him across the room. The argument ends there, he says sorry, and Osamu lies awake that night thinking about his brother. Atsumu is hotheaded. And an idiot. A loud snorer, too. But he turns on his side and curls into a ball because he knows it was sunny when Atsumu was born and all of a sudden he really wants to be his brother. 

Atsumu dyes his hair first: it’s a shitty box dye from the pharmacy down the street, and it looks terrible. It’s a little yellow and a little neon, and Osamu laughs until his sides hurt when Atsumu shows him. 

But Atsumu is proud, and he is confident, and he goes to school with a hundred watt smile and a group of girls trailing after him. 

Osamu goes to the pharmacy that night and buys a box of gray, cloudy dye. Atsumu helps him bleach his hair under their bathroom sink with the faulty tap and tells him he looks like the moon.

His Ma says that Atsu is hot and Samu is cold after the two have a particularly bad fight. Atsumu is gleeful and smug as he gloats that he was born to be hotter and warmer and better, and Osamu punches him. 

He remembers his Ma sitting on the porch, an arm around his shoulders as he pouts. 

“‘S not fair,” Osamu had said, his chin in his palm. “Why’d ya name Tsumu that?” 

His Ma had laughed, quietly, leaning her weight into his side. And she had held his cheeks between her palms and told him with a fire in her eyes that Osamu means To Rule. 

He meets you for the first time in February. 

You were standing in front of him, a little sheepish, with a box of chocolates in your extended palms. He remembers feeling something heavy in his chest. Because, yeah, Atsumu was definitely going to accept your confession. 

You had said, IReallyLikeYou, and Here’sSomeChocolates, and Please Accept Them. 

You were shorter than him, and your hair was done nicely, and you were blushing and nervous. And you were really fucking cute. But Osamu is used to coming second, so the only thing that comes out of his mouth is, Why? And then, Tsumu’s in tha next classroom ov’r. 

He doesn’t remember what happened next, only Atsumu’s laugh and the slap echoing through the halls. You leave with his cheeks stinging and hot. And Atsumu had teased him the next day, behind his mountain of chocolates and confessions, because Osamu’s face was still red twelve hours later. 

He sees you a lot the year after. 

You’re in the same class as him and ‘Tsumu, and you smile every time you see him. You sit two rows in front of him and you’re not very good at tying your uniform. Every lunch, Osamu watches you pull out the same gray bento with a wrapped onigiri on the side. He tells you one day that he really likes onigiri. And then, Osamu watches as every lunch, you pull out the same gray bento with two wrapped onigiris on the side. 

With you, it’s always Hi Osamu, first, and then, Hullo Atsumu. With you, it’s an onigiri dropped on his desk when the lunch bell rings. With you, Osamu thinks back to a conversation with his Ma on a porch. 

Osamu means To Rule.

The menu is this: Tuna mayo on Mondays and Thursdays, Ume on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Friday is plain. You don’t ever bring onigiri for his brother. 

He asks you, on a hot night in June, what your favorite type of weather is. You had your knees tucked to your chest, a sparkler in hand, and then told him cloudy. Cold. Foggy. Winter. Snow is nice, too. You say it all with no hesitation. 

Osamu kisses you for the first time that night. 

It’s New Years and you’re cooking Ozoni on the stove. The curtains are open, it’s snowing outside, and Osamu wakes to the smell of miso and the sound of carrots on a chopping board. He gets out of bed, padding to the kitchen with half-lidded eyes and a stifled yawn, and then he thinks his heart stops when he sees you. 

Because what Miya Osamu is not used to is this: coming first and having something unequivocally his. 

But you’re bent over the counter, fiddling with the oven as you read the instructions on the back of the packaged Yakimochi you bought the other day. And you’re wearing his shirt, it falls right below your thighs, your hair is still messy from using his chest as a pillow, and you look beautiful. 

“Mornin’ ‘Samu, come help me with this.” You say, looking back at him with a smile, pointing to the fresh pot of rice on the counter. “You’re in charge of onigiri.”

He hugs you instead, his arms around your stomach with your back to him. 

“But I like yer onigiri,” He says, his chin on your head. His eyes are watering and it must be from the steam of your boiling dashi. 

“‘Samu,” You complain, giggling as he presses kisses into the crown of your head. “I made enough for ya in high school.” 

It’s cold outside and snowing, and Osamu knows he’s going to make the onigiri. 

He also knows that if his name means To Rule, he’s okay with coming second if it means you’re by his side.

[multidimensionimagines]

Alright, first part is officially finished! A request sent to me by a wonderful user that will be tagged. In the meantime, here is part 1 of

Sweater Weather (part 1)

part 2

Summary: you borrow Ford’s sweater when it gets cold

content warnings: fluff, smut, reader is fem/afab and uses she/her pronouns, minors do not interact!

Gravity Falls wasn’t a sunny paradise. Despite what the brochures and fake marketing wanted you to believe. Sure the summers there were nice. After all, living in Oregon meant getting a perfect balance of each of the seasons as they came. So, that meant hot, sunny summers and cold, bitter winters.

You did not take this into account when you first moved to Gravity Falls two years ago. Sure, you had some sweaters and pants good enough for the colder months, and you would think that living in the same place for two years would warrant you enough time to go shopping to acquire a proper wardrobe. But you, special as you were, had an extraordinary knack for forgetting things- giving your needs the old ‘eh, I’ll do it tomorrow’ and the next thing you know, winter had passed with you surviving on the tattered blankets and fireplace in your home.

Now was the end of fall, the day after Halloween- not to be confused with the iconic Gravity Falls tradition of Summerween- and while it had been chillier out it was now getting dangerously into nipping cold territory. And your boyfriend, as practical as he was, has not stopped having to remind you.

“Dear, don’t you think you’ll be cold going out in.. that?”

You paused, looking over your shoulder at him. He quickly stiffened.

“N-not that, I’m trying to tell you what to wear. I-I would never-! You’re free to dress how you wish I’m just..” he awkwardly cleared his throat. “worried.”

You chuckled, pulling on your lightweight cardigan over your top. “I know you wouldn’t. I’ll go shopping tomorrow, okay?”

You reassured him softly, walking up to give him a kiss on the cheek. He smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You’ve been saying that everyday since October 5th.”

You rolled your eyes and grinned, shoving your hands in your pockets. “Psh, oh come on, there’s no way I’ve been saying it every day-“

Ford reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a little booklet, one of those pocket colanders and flipped to the page with the current month, or well, month that just passed yesterday on it.

“Actually you have, I’ve been keeping track to see when you would actually follow through on your word.”

He explained somewhat smugly before tucking it back into his pocket, revealing your annoyed but.. slightly impressed face. Of course, only the Stanford Pines would keep track of something like that.

You gave him a look but he wouldn’t put away that stupid (cute) grin on his face and brushed past him towards the front door of the Mystery Shack. You and Soos were all going out to get some food shopping done since the kitchen was ransacked by vengeful gnomes yesterday when Stan refused to give any of them candy.

“Bein’ freakishly short and wearing dumb hats all year round doesn’t make you eligible now scram!”

Soos came out from the staff room having finished putting away the rest of the cheap Halloween decorations that were more than halfway from falling apart, but of course, your boss refused to buy any new ones till they were ‘as old as he and his brother’ which you found humorous.

Dusting his hands off each other with a proud smile, Soos closed the door behind him and sighed. “Huh, there, that ought to do it! Oh hey other Mr Pines!” He beamed and waved at Ford, seeming surprised but pleased to see him out in the open. Ford awkwardly shuffled his feet and returned his wave with a small smile.

“Ah.. Greetings, Soos. And, please, you can call me Ford, it’s a lot less formal don’t you think?”

“Oh no way dude. I respect you and Mr Pines wayyyy too much to do that.” Soos stated in a somewhat more serious tone, crossing a hand in front of him.

Ford chuckled, both amused and flattered that he thought that highly of him and his brother. “Very well then.” He shrugged, watching as Soos joined you, who had their hand on the knob as you waited semi-paitently at the front door.

“You ready to rock and roll dude?” He asked, twirling his keys around his finger.

You nodded. “Uh huh!” You turned your head back to Ford “see ya in a bit, sweetie!”

Ford smiled and returned your wave as you closed the door behind you and Soos. Even though you and Ford had been together for a good few months now, he still got a bit giddy at the feeling of you calling him sweet pet names like that. He wasn’t all that used to having someone consistently dote on him in that way, plus, you just made him weak in the knees. No matter what you did. He found you absolutely irresistible. He sighed, shaking off his wandering thoughts and opened the vending machine door, as he had important business to attend to down in his lab today. And he didn’t want any distractions whatsoever.

A little while after, Ford was tinkering away in his lab, experimenting with a new device he had been drafting blueprints for, and keeping notes on what seemed to work.

“Hm… fascinating..” he hummed to himself, a pleased smirk spread across his face as he ran another successful test. He was pulled quickly from his thoughts when there was a knock at the door, but didn’t cease writing.

“Yes, come in!” He called, eyes not tearing away from the his journal pages.

From the other side of the door, you smiled of relief. Happy to hear your boyfriend’s voice after a long day, even though it was mostly shopping, it wasn’t like it was any fun shopping. You gently and carefully opened the door to his workshop, always making sure to be cautious in your step when doing so since you never could really predict what kind of strange anomaly or new device that would be coming your way. Thankfully today however, it was just a few pieces of forest crystals that sat at his desk beside his furiously writing hand. You cleared your throat and approached behind him, standing with your hands clasped in front of your lap.

Ford hummed curiously, looking back over his shoulder and instantly brightening when he saw it was you. “Ah! Greetings, my dear! How was your excursion with Jésus?”

You giggled. “It’s just Soos. And it was great! We got everything on our list and then some… I also got you something~” you rocked back on your heels as a playful tone rang in your voice to which he perked up. Ford turned his body now towards you, resting one hand on his knee and tilting his head to one side inquiringly.

“Really?”

You nodded, reaching into your pocket to reveal a small white cloth bag which had a label in black cursive on them that read ‘Old Timey Style Jelly Beans’.

Ford chuckled and took the bag from you, prying it open with his two index fingers and peering inside. “Thank you, my dear. Although, you really didn’t have to get me anything.” He said, glancing back up at you through his glasses.

You shook your head. “I always have to get you something! I like doing it, it’s nice to see your face when I come home with something for you! Besides, you hardly ever leave here as it is, I might as well do all your shopping at this point.” You insisted, resting a hand on Ford’s shoulder to steady yourself as you took a seat on his lap, taking advantage of the openness of his current leg position. He grew shy, smiling and looking away from you with a soft blush in his cheeks.

“Ah… yes, well.. um..” he cleared his throat “thank you.” He snuck a hand around your waist to keep you upright on him, bringing his head back up to face you so that you could properly see him. You peered over his shoulder to look at his desk, eyeing the new paragraphs of cursive that filled journal number four.

“What’cha working on?” You chirped. Ford beamed.

“Ah! I’m glad you asked!” He swiveled around in his chair, keeping hold of you in his lap and setting the jellybeans aside. “I’m testing a new invention of mine that I’ve had in the works for a while. I just didn’t have the pieces to do it until now…”

as he rambled on, explaining his newest discovery, you couldn’t help but accidentally tune out his words, sure you were listening, you could hear him talking, but your processing gears were occupied by the gleam in his eyes and the added crinkles that formed around them when he smiled in the excitement of explaining something to you. You let out an internal, dreamy sigh as you focused on the way his one hand was gesturing to all the different things on his desk and how the other gripped your waist so comfortingly. His rough, gorgeous hands…

“Dear, are you alright?”

Your breath hitched, you blinked and looked at him as a slow blush began to creep onto your face. “O-oh! Yeah um.. sorry you just… look really cute when you’re explaining your.. science-y.. stuff..” you admitted sheepishly, feeling kinda bad that you didn’t catch most of what he said.

Ford felt a little taken aback by the sudden onset of adoration, not that he minded it one bit. He just wasn’t used to it, a few months of being with someone so intimately wasn’t nearly enough time to get used to 60 ish years of barely experiencing it at all. He chuckled slightly, bringing his other hand to wrap in front of your torso, now encircling you in a cocoon of his arms.

“I-it’s quite alright, I wouldn’t have expected you to understand even if you were listening.”

He said with the utmost affection and sincerity. The words alone coming out of his mouth didn’t always sound too flattering, but they were hardly ever out of malice, especially not when it came to you. You had been learning to both deal with, and let him know when to not say anything. But right now you giggled and brushed it off, knowing exactly what he meant.

You two had a brief moment of looking into each others eyes, taking in each others soft gaze on the other. Ford had such deep, beautiful brown eyes that reminded you of the very forests that he explored so much. And you, oh, Ford could fill more than 10 journals dedicated to the sheer remarkable beauty of yours. He still couldn’t believe that in all the dimensions, all the universes, all the galaxies and all the stars in the sky that you chose to be his. And he was forever grateful for it. You both seemed to have the same idea as you leaned in closer, inching forward to gradually meet each others lips. Ford hummed and closed his eyes, the stiffness in his shoulders he didn’t even know he was holding dropped. He gripped your waist tighter and subconsciously pulled you in closer to him and you brought your hands up to his face, cupping and caressing each cheek and running your fingers along his faint stubble. Ford was still a bit of an awkward and clumsy kisser, but you were more than happy to give him as many practice opportunities as he needed. You felt a shiver run up your spine as his thumbs began to rub into the divets of your flesh, as well as the cool air of the lab hitting your skin through your thin cardigan.

“Mmm… dear..?” Ford mumbled against your lips, gently pulling you away. Your face was revealed to him in a slight pout, which he thought was adorable. But this was no time for him to swoon, he had a pressing question he almost forgot to ask you. “Did you remember to pick up something suitable for the cold?”

Your eyes widened. Oh, shoot. That’s what you forgot.

“Uhhhh…” you squinted, looking to the side to avoid his now disappointed stare. Ford grumbled. “Okay, I forgot! Ugh..” you groaned, throwing your head back.

Ford sighed and pulled your sweater sleeve up, revealing the goosebumps that littered your arm. “Darling, look at you, you’re freezing. You should get into something warmer.” He pressed, now sounding more like a worried mother than anything. You got up off his lap. “Yeah, I didn’t wanna say anything because I was hoping you wouldn’t notice but, your lab is fucking freezing.” You shivered, bringing your hands up to your forearms in a pathetic attempt to shield them. Ford chuckled and shook his head, waving you off.

“Go on, take your time, I’ll be here all evening.”

[thewulf]

Sir || Aaron Hotchner

Request: Do you think you could do a Hotch x ADHD reader where they are energetic and talkative all day since Aaron came back from a tough case. With the constant questions and comments Aaron gets irritated due to stress and says something like “can you be quiet for 5 seconds please” or “enough with the stupid questions, it’s annoying” and the reader ends up talking less with him and only responds with short answers and they try to suppress their ADHD ticks around him.

A/N: Well, I couldn't sleep on the plane home yesterday and I found a surge of inspo! Had so much fun writing this one. I just adore Hotch! Thanks for the request! @ghostridrr

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 3.9k +

You’d never expected to be dating an FBI agent nonetheless fall hopelessly head over heels for the guy in a matter of months. Coming from humble beginnings in a small southern town. Not many people made it out, but you did. You were determined. Determined to get the hell out and never look back. So, you did. You made it happen. Working your ass off through college becoming a civil engineer and finding a job at a firm in Washington DC you quickly found your groove. You worked your way up from an engineer to a manager to a project manager within ten years. Loving your job meant giving your all which didn’t leave much time for your personal life nor a love life. It’s not like you hadn’t tried you were just busy.

 It all hit you on your birthday that you wanted more. You wanted a partner. You wanted to have a life with somebody. For years you put in effort to try. Dating good guys and shitty ones alike. You were about to give it up for good after the years of trying. But the universe had a different plan for you.

It all started so casually on a sunny Monday morning at Quantico. Your firm had been contracted out to completely renovate the old Quantico offices and bring them into the 21st century. You’d absolutely fallen in love with your job, the project manager, over the course of the six months. Between working with the clients, budgeting, staging, and executing the demo and construction you’d found loved. It was the perfect job that kept your busy brain occupied and constantly moving. Always showing up to work with a big cheesy smile on your face and ending the day with an inevitable streak of dirt across your shirt or jeans.

Everything went so smoothly until your crew moved up to the sixth floor. The BAU. Whatever the hell that is. Apparently, nobody had warned the boss man and he wasn’t too thrilled to say the least. You were used to working around the residents of the floor, but this wasn’t starting out to great considering your crew would be working on the floor for the next few months.

“What the hell is all this? Why is there tarp in my conference room?” A strong voice broke you from the planning board you were reviewing with your construction Forman, Eric.

Snapping your head around you made eye contact with possibly the most handsome man you’d ever seen. Of fucking course he had to be hot as hell. This was certainly going to make things way more interesting for you.

Putting on your best smile you slowly walked over to him, hardhat and high visibility vest and all, “I’m so sorry sir. I thought somebody from your leadership would’ve informed you. My crew is starting some demo and renovations on this floor today. We’ll do our best to keep the noise down, but we might have to kick you out of a few spots every now and then.” Trying your best to charm the man with a big smile you only felt intimated when he simply just looked at you. As if he was studying you. Not frowning, not smiling, stoic as hell. You involuntarily took a step back. Intimidating the hell out of you.

He must’ve picked up on your discomfort as his straight-faced gaze softened ever so slightly. He pinched the bridge of his nose as you cocked your head to the side observing him. He must’ve been choosing his words very carefully.

“I don’t have time for this today. I’m sorry.” He sighed in clear frustration. A real frustration you’d seen time and time again on the job.

You frowned. Annoyed at his leadership for failing to tell him you were about to ruin his next few months as your crew worked through the floor. You had to think quick. This was your job after all, “I’ll tell you what sir. We’ll start over on those conference rooms this week. Hopefully that gives you time to sort it out?” You pointed to the rooms on the other side of the office, not the large one his team clearly needed.

He gave you a curt nod. His gaze almost fully softening as you tried to compromise with him still with a genuine smile on your face. Even he had to admit that smile was breaking him down far faster than he would’ve thought possible. He had yet to even look at a woman since Haley’s death, that was years ago now. It freaked him out a little. He’d been so fine on his own. Figuring out a good routine with Jack and Jess. Getting too complacent. He knew it wasn’t fair to Jack. Especially since he was getting to an age where a mom was crucial. Jack needed somebody to lean on and it certainly wasn’t fair to Jess to pick that up.

“It won’t mess your plans up?” The handsome stranger asked you. Your smile grew as you knew he was going to be willing to work with you. More often than not you’d have to get into with whomever was arguing back with you, often the government trying to shut you down. But you knew better. You always had all the permits you needed and knew the rule book like the back of your hand. That’s why you excelled. You never let anybody get the better of you. ADHD was a curse and a blessing at the same damn time.

Shaking your head you continued, “Not at all! That’s construction. You plan, and then it changes 45 times before you actually start. It’s no big deal at all. Really.” You tried to reassure him. He looked embarrassed that he was so upset only a few moments prior. The last thing you wanted to do was make him uncomfortable. You knew you had at least two months of face to face with the guy. Starting off on the wrong foot was the worst thing you and the crew could do.

“I’m sorry. If you wouldn’t mind. We have a crucial case involving some kids…” He stopped himself before he divulged too much. He didn’t want you to get kicked out on his own accord. He knew you only had a clearance to enter the building. Nothing more, nothing less. He wouldn’t risk that at your stake.

“No explanations necessary sir. We’ll find a better day to demo.” You never dropped your smile as you maintained eye contact with him. You found that making sure to look whomever in the eyes always met you with better than looking around, looking scared.

“Aaron. Sir is too formal. Aaron Hotchner. My team, whenever they get here, will call me Hotch. Call me whatever.” He stuck his hand out for you to take. Gently you set your hand in his. You’d always been taught to go for the death grip when shaking hands. It established dominance or some bullshit like that. Especially since you were a woman in such a male dominated field. Working in a man’s world was exhausting. But something struck you as different with the man. So gentle it was.

“Nice to meet you, Aaron. I’m Y/N.” He shook your hand just as gently as you set your hand in his. You weren’t sure if he felt the pull that you felt but you simply couldn’t take your eyes off him.

“It’s nice to meet you to Y/N.” The handshake when on for a little too long. You were positive Eric was going to give you hell for this when you walked back over, “And again, I’m sorry for the outburst. These cases get stressful.”

You laughed a giggle that shouldn’t have come out of your mouth at work. His stoic expression tweaked into a soft smile after hearing your laugh, “Believe me when I say that was tame. The yelling matches I’ve gotten in with men twice my age are too plentiful to count.”

He laughed this time finally dropping your hand, gently of course, “I’m sorry you have to deal with that.”

You shrugged, “Part of the job. Plus, it’s fun to yell back sometimes.” His small smile grew into a much larger one, eyes crinkling and all. You’d done it. You’d charmed him.

“Hotch!” A female voice came yelling out of the conference room, “Round table, let’s go.” The pretty blonde-haired lady smirked at him before turning back to the room. The two of you failed to see his team file in during the conversation.

He broke his gaze turning around to see his agent vanishing from the doorway, “Got to go. Nice to meet you Y/N. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.”

You nodded your head, “Likewise Aaron.”

The rest was literally history. He ended up bringing you some sort of coffee or baked good every morning he was in the office, which you learned very quickly wasn’t all that often. He and his team seemed to be away more than they were actually there. You took advantage of that and fixed their office spaces and conferences rooms right as they left for their trips. You’d check in with Penny to make sure you weren’t in the way when they got back.

Small chit chats in the morning turned to lunch “dates” as Eric so kindly called them. You’d refused to call them as such, not ever truly able to gauge whether he was actually interested in you or not. You tried to make it as blatantly obvious as possible, but he was Aaron. Calm, cool and collected. The two of you had even been the butt of office jokes as you got closer. You didn’t seem to care though. It felt too good with him to give whatever you had up.

Lucky for you those lunch dates turned to dinner dates and before you knew it you were meeting Jack and spending time at his place. Weeks turned to months, and you were spending almost every night at the Hotchner’s. You and Jack were getting along as thick as thieves. Aaron even trusting you to watch him while he was gone. You made Jack promise not to tell his daddy that you gave him ice cream almost every night. It was a secret between the two of you.

Jack was off on a summer camp, and you’d just wrapped up the Quantico project leaving you far too bored sitting at Aaron’s place. So, you did what you always did when you had nothing to do. You cranked up the music and started cleaning. It was a Tuesday morning, and you really weren’t expecting Aaron to get back from his case. It was a long one out in Colorado. He never gave you the specifics, but he sounded horribly upset each night when he was on the phone with you. Distracted and distraught.

You hadn’t heard the door open and close as you were upstairs cleaning. But when your music abruptly stopped you hightailed it downstairs to get it going again. To your surprise your boyfriend was standing at the kitchen island rubbing his temples. You should’ve known there that he wasn’t going to be in the best of moods.

“Hon.” You grinned ear to ear seeing him standing there, “Your home! How was the trip? Happy to be home? I missed you tons. Especially with Jack being gone, I haven’t had anybody to talk to.” You wrapped your arms around his front, hugging him from behind. You were usually really good at picking up on social cues, but you must’ve been too damn excited to see him to pick up on his mood.

“Y/N.” He gave you a half smile before squeezing your hands tightly but gently. Like he was afraid of losing you.

“Aaron.” You let go of him brushing the now overgrown hair out of his face, “Are you alright? Was the trip okay? I just missed you so much. Hopefully it wasn’t too bad. I’ve really gotten used to having Jack around. I wish you didn’t have to go so often.” You admitted.

He sighed a deep one, “It was a tough case.” Was all he gave you. You should’ve known there that he wasn’t going to give you much else. But your stupid ass brain decided to ignore the cues. It wasn’t really your fault that it bounced around so quickly. You’d even taken your meds today. It was something about Aaron that seemed to break anything those meds were holding back.

“Want to talk about it? I know you never do but it could be good for you. You know? It’s not great to hold that kind of stuff in. It’ll eat away at you.” You just wanted him to be the Aaron you knew. Not the ball of stress standing before you.

He shook his head, “Not this time.”

“You sure? You look upset hon. I don’t like to see you like that.” You continued not noticing him closing his eyes. Surely more than irritated with you at the moment. But were you going to catch that? Nope.

“Positive.”

You nodded, “Alright. If you say so. Are you hungry? I can whip you up some lunch…”

He interrupted you before you could go on whatever long winded rant you had built up, “Y/N, can you be quiet for five seconds please? I’m trying to think.” You were turned away from him and didn’t see the immediate regret that washed over his face. He didn’t really mean it he just needed you to stop for a moment. He wasn’t expecting you to be home and wasn’t ready for the bombardment of questions. After cases that involved so many deaths it took him a moment to come back around. He needed a second to himself. The job was hard and you knew that.

And with that you felt your heart deflate right then and there. The smile that hadn’t dropped since he came home immediately vanished without a trace. Your happy eyes immediately dropping and filling with hot, wet tears that desperately wanted to spill over. You’d been with him for almost half a year and that had yet to come out of his mouth. It took you by surprise, to say the least.

“I’m so sorry.” You squeaked out before walking out of the kitchen hastily. You weren’t good with conflict. Always running away from it.

He knew he fucked up. You weren’t overly sensitive, but he knew what he said was over the line. Especially since you were simply trying to help him. But he also needed that moment. So, he shamefully let you sit upstairs with your thoughts. You had an issue of letting things ruminate in your head for far too long.

Letting the tears fall you continued to clean the bathroom in silence. Why were you like this? As soon as you got comfortable with someone you seemed to ruin it with your dumb ass brain. You should’ve known he was exhausted. He’d been gone for nearly two weeks. Cases never ended well when he was gone for over a week let alone two. You should’ve backed off the second he started giving you short answers. Stupid stupid brain ruining everything.

Once you finished you thought it best to spend some time back at your own apartment. The last thing you wanted to do was annoy him into breaking up with you. Tip towing downstairs you found him asleep on the couch. Biting your lip, you scribbled a note letting him know you went home making a dumb excuse that your friend needed you. As much as you wanted to spend the night with him, he clearly needed it alone.

It wasn’t long after you got home that your phone buzzed. Looking down you saw Aaron was calling. Deciding it best to give him space you decided not to pick up. When it rang for a second time you answered, “Hey.” Why were those stupid tears threatening to spill again?

“Sweetheart where are you?”

You frowned, “Home. Emma needed some help with a dress.” You partially lied. Your friend Emma really did need help hemming her dress, something you were oddly good at. But she wasn’t coming over until the weekend.

“Oh, are you coming back after? We can make Spaghetti, your favorite.” You knew this was his attempt to apologize. Quickly realizing in the relationship that Aaron was a quality time kind of guy, his true love language.

Should you? You weren’t feeling great about the whole thing and a night away might make the heart grow fonder, “I don’t think so Aaron. I’m tired and she’ll be over for a while.” Another lie. You hated doing this to him but you just couldn’t confront it head on. It just wasn’t something you were ready for.

“Oh, okay.” He sounded sad. It made your heart lurch just thinking about it, “Come over tomorrow after work?”

“Yeah, sure.” You knew you were being short with him but God, you just didn’t want to annoy him. A specialty you’d seemed to master.

“Everything alright sweetheart?”

Everything was not alright, “Yeah, just a bit tired. I should get going, she’s almost here.” You hardly heard the confirmation on the other end of the phone before you hung up on him.

You didn’t sleep well nor work great the next morning. Aarons comments ringing in your ears over and over again. When it came time to go home you took his route home. Knowing you had to confront this at some point. Aaron would make you. He always did. As bad as he was with words, he always made sure to talk things out.

Somehow, his black SUV was parked in the driveway. You had an inkling feeling he was going to beat you home no matter what. He might’ve even taken the day off today. Walking through the front door you found Aaron in the kitchen cutting up some tomatoes.

“Sweetheart.” He smiled while dropping the knife and walking over to you. Wrapping you in a tight hug he made sure to give you an extra squeeze. He was a profiler after all, he knew something was amiss.

“Hi.” You mumbled in his chest. Breathing him in completely you let your eyes close as you leaned into him. He was clearly trying to make it up to you now, might as well let him.

“Have a good day?” He asked while prying you away from his chest.

Shaking your head you decided to answer honestly. The little white lies you told yesterday making you feel gross, “No, not really.” Yawning you leaned your head back into his chest.

He starting brushing through your hair with his fingers having an inkling as to why, but he needed to know for sure. He hated hurting you. You were nothing but sweet to him and he returned it by snapping at you? He’d done it to Jack as well. He knew it was something he needed to work on even if he wouldn’t say it out loud.

“And why’s that?” He asked softly making sure not to startle you.

“Didn’t sleep great. Then my boss decided to put me on the worst project. Pipes.” You sighed. It wasn’t an attack on you, every project manager had to have a hellish utility job. You were just next on the list. It couldn’t have come at a worse time though. Pipe work meant constant oversight, and anything could shut the project down. Tedious and annoying but necessary, you knew it.

“I’m sorry honey.” He confined brushing through your hair.

“It’s fine.” You signed closing your eyes as you listened to his heartbeat. You weren’t in the mood to talk which was strange for you. You always wanted to talk. To dive a little deeper. Understand him a bit more. But you weren’t feeling it. Was it actually your mood or were you just terribly self-conscious now? You refused to ask that question as you shoved it to the back of your mind.

“You sure it’s fine? You’re awfully quiet. I miss my chatty girl.” He knew he needed to apologize. He should’ve just spit it out already. But he wanted to see if he could see if it was anything more. He’d never seen you so down and out. You were always there with a smile and seeing you so sad had him worried. Had he done that to you? Did you not sleep because of him?

You nodded into his chest, “Yeah, ‘M just…” You paused. Was it really worth not telling the whole truth? Aaron would figure it out. He probably already had. He was doing that profiler shit on you now. As annoying as it was you grew to love it. It was him. You loved him. Everything about the man intrigued you, “Tired.” You finished. Not the whole truth and you knew it.

“Honey.” He kept brushing through your hair knowing how much it calmed you.

Feeling a little surge of bravery, you looked up to him, “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dismiss you yesterday.” He paused giving you a brief kiss on your forehead but not giving you enough time to respond before he continued, “I love all your questions. I really do. It’s just this last case was rough. And I know that’s no excuse to treat you like that. It’s just… this guy. He targeted women that looked just like you. It’s been an awful two weeks. I just miss you. Please stay?”

“Oh Aaron,” You frowned but squeezed him tightly, “I’m so sorry. If I had known…”

“I should’ve told you. Don’t apologize. I should be the one apologizing.” He kissed your forehead again holding it there. Just holding you in his arms.

Feeling so safe and secured in his arms made you feel every emotion all at once. Thrilled that he still felt the same about you. Embarrassed you took it so personally. Scared you would mess this up. So in love with the guy who recognized so easily what was bothering you. It was all too much for you. You couldn’t try to stop the tears that flowed down your cheeks even if you tried.

Aaron pried you away from him taking your head in his hands. Softly he wiped away the tears with his thumbs with a sad look on his face, “I’m so sorry sweetheart.” His eyes searched your face for anything. His heart breaking just a little more seeing your hurt expression across ever feature.

Nodding, that’s all you could do. Absolutely you accepted his apology. He was so sincere with it you know he meant everything with his entire heart, “It’s okay.” You managed to choke out between breaths. After a moment the tears finally stopped. You’d normally be horrified by the sudden outburst but with him you weren’t. You knew he had you.

“It’s really not. I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again.” He assured you wiping away the final tears.

“Thank you, Aaron.”

He pulled you back into him, “I’m not perfect but I promise you I’ll try.”

“I know that.” You beamed up at him. You felt so much better. Words always helped, running away never did.

“I love you, my dear.” He smiled down at you while rocking you back in forth in his arms.

“And you know, I love you too.”

Taglist: @twilightlover2007 @morgthemagpie @ashie-babie @buckybarnessweetheart @wendy234678 @adhdannieedison @emilykolchivans @aurabambi @pipecleanerweyesfp @simp4f1 @ghostridrr @sunflowers-4

[skzdust]

Room 514

Part 1

This fic is the result of 1. Me going on a road trip and 2. A poll I did on here! I have the trip back coming up in a few days so I might do another poll to decide what I write on the way back lol!

Summary: You’re moving into a new suite halfway through your sophomore year at Stay University, populated by three guys: Jisung, Changbin, and Bang Chan. You meet their friends and quickly become a part of their group, but you find yourself wanting more with Jisung…

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Includes: slow burn (if I have the patience to write it slow lol), college au, roommates, besties with skz, gender neutral reader (if smut happens reader will be afab)

Word count: 1.3k

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Masterlist

——-

The lock to room 514 beeped, its LED turning green, and you moved your phone away. You took a breath and turned the handle.

You didn’t need to worry. The suite’s living room was empty. The decoration gave you hope, though; it was neat and decorated mostly in shades of blue, with a sunny yellow cover on the couch. You hoped it was like this all the time and not just because you were moving in today.

The suite had four single bedrooms, two half bathrooms, one shower, and a living room with a mini-fridge and microwave. You’d been living in a different hall just a few days ago, sharing a room with another girl, Catherine. She’d been awful ever since you’d walked in on her cheating on her boyfriend with another guy, spreading rumors and turning all your friends against you. You’d pleaded with your RA for a single room, and she’d helped you find a suite in another hall. It was a room with three guys, which made you a little anxious, but you’d jumped at the chance nonetheless.

“Hello?” You said, a little louder than you usually would speak.

Nothing.

You found room D, your room, in the hallway to the left. Room C, next door, had a handwritten sign beside the “C”: “Han Jisung.”

One of your roommates. You knew the others were named Changbin and Bang Chan, but you hadn’t met any of the three.

You pressed your phone to the lock on room D and walked in.

The room was small and bare, but you smiled at the fact that you’d have your own space at all. A lofted bed with plenty of storage space underneath was against the back wall, next to a desk and chair, and a tall chest of drawers was beside the closet.

You climbed up on the bed to look out the window. You had a rather ugly view of the parking lot, but the window faced South, so at least you’d get plenty of light.

There was a loud knock behind you.

You whirled around, almost falling off the bed. Potentially the most attractive man you’d ever seen in real life was leaning in your doorway, a grin on his face. “You must be y/n!”

“Yeah, that’s… me.” You said with a little laugh. “And you’re…?”

“Jisung.” His smile grew. “Han Jisung.”

You hopped off the bed. “Jisung. You’re next door!”

“Yeah! Me and Changbin and Bang Chan are excited to have another roommate, it’s been just the three of us for a while.”

“Well, I’m kind of escaping a situation at the moment, so I’m looking forward to a fresh start, too.” You tried not to let your thoughts of Catherine make you angry.

“Well, you’re always welcome to hang out with us.”

“Thanks, that’s nice of you.”

“Actually, we’re having some people over tonight.” He raised his eyebrows. “Chill with us, if you don’t have to study or anything. We’re gonna watch Love Island.”

You grinned. “Love Island? Seriously?”

“How can you not love stupid reality TV with a bunch of hot people?” Jisung held his hands up. “Just saying, just saying. We’re probably gonna order pizza, too, if that helps convince you.”

“Not judging, just wasn’t expecting it.” You shrugged. “But yeah, I don’t have anything going on tonight, that sounds fun!”

“Sounds good. Do you need any help moving stuff in?”

“I think I’ve got it.” You waved your hand. “Just some stuff in the hallway.”

He nodded. “Let me know if you want help.”

“I will.”

He gave a lazy salute. “See you tonight!” He pushed off the doorway and twirled into the hall, and you heard his door click shut.

You squeezed your eyes shut, sending up a silent prayer. Please, please, please let him be single.

—

You stood in the center of the room, doing a little circle and judging it cute enough to be finished.

You’d been unpacking and decorating for a few hours, but the sounds of people in the living room had started about an hour ago, so you’d slowed down. You wanted to see Jisung again, but you were a bit anxious to meet his friends, as well as your other two roommates.

But there were only so many times you could rearrange your books or organize your clothes, and you knew it was a good idea to go out and join the party.

You checked your reflection in the mirror on the inside of the closet door, smoothing your hair, and left your room.

There were eight people in the living room of the suite, the only one you recognized being Jisung. And… wait, was that the guy you’d been on a project with in music technology last year? Hwang Hyunjin?

“Y/n!” Jisung jumped up from the couch when he saw you, beaming. “Guys, this is our new roommate!”

“Y/n?” The guy you were 99% sure was Hyunjin said, tilting his head. “I know you! We did a project together.”

“Yeah! I remember that! It’s Hyunjin, right?”

He smiled softly. “Yeah, Hyunjin. Nice to meet you again!”

You tried to remember back to the project. You’d loved the class, and you remembered the project going well. Hyunjin had been great to work with, doing his share of the planning and the legwork. You’d found him cute then, too, but freshman year you’d been even more timid, and you hadn’t made a move. You were kind of glad for that now, though.

Because Jisung was walking across the room to you, and standing right next to you, and you almost missed what he started to say because you could smell whatever cologne he used, and it smelled good.

“Okay, around the room we have...” He pointed at each of the guys. “Seungmin, Minho, Jeongin, you know Hyunjin, Felix, Bang Chan, he’s one of our roommates, and Changbin, he’s our other roommate.” He pointed to himself. “And you know me. Jisung.”

You nodded at each name, doing your best to match them to faces. “Got it. I’m decent with names, so I’ll do my best.”

Jisung bumped your shoulder, and you giggled. “I’m sure you’ve got it.” He made a shooing motion at Seungmin, who was sitting on the floor. “Pizza’s behind Seungmin.”

“What kind?”

“There’s pepperoni and there’s cheese.” Seungmin picked up a plate. “Here, I can grab you a slice, what do you want?”

“Just a slice of cheese, thanks.”

Seungmin handed Jisung the plate, and he made a little mock bow before holding it out to you. You smiled, taking it. “Thank you, butler.”

“Of course, my liege.” He winked, and a cloud of butterflies took flight in your chest.

“Nice to meet you, y/n!” Changbin leaned over the back of his chair and extended his hand. You shook it.

“Changbin, right?”

“Mhm. Roommates!”

“Yeah, that’s right.” You nodded.

“He sings a lot. You can tell him to shut up if you need to.” Bang Chan grinned. “I’m Bang Chan, I’m your other roommate.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. I don’t mind singing.”

“I mean, he has a decent enough voice, but it’s… frequent.” Jisung widened his eyes as he nodded. “Quite frequent.”

“Oh, come on.” Changbin rolled his eyes. “You all should be honored that you get to hear my singing. I’m gonna be recognized for my talent someday!”

“He also raps.” Jeongin added. “I’m sure you’ll hear that, too.”

“I’m an even better of a rapper than I am a singer!” He pointed around the room. “Feel honored!”

Felix held a hand to his chest. “We all feel so honored. All hail the most beautiful voice, Changbin!”

“That’s more like it!”

You laughed with the rest of them. This group felt more comfortable than you’d ever felt with your old friends, and you couldn’t help thinking that maybe moving in with Changbin, Bang Chan, and Jisung was meant to be.

[sixosix]

(not just a) one night something | itoshi sae

rumors spread, and your friendship with sae gets complicated enough to help you fix your problem

( ? ) itoshi sae x fem!reader

( ! ) probably ooc sae, supposed unrequited pining, time skips, meet again, failed date shenanigans, getting together, CHILDHOOD FRIENDS!!! this is so. terrible actually omfg.

“i think i like itoshi.”

kamiko pauses mid-lick on her popsicle as she follows where your eyes are intently focused: a nimble boy with pale brown-red hair, swerving a soccer ball around like it’s one with him, just another limb.

“sae-kun?” kamiko asks, brows furrowing. “aren’t you friends with him?”

“mhm.” you nod, watching him play with a bright smile. your view of his play isn’t hindered even from behind the fence.

the ball drifts past right in front of where you and kamiko are situated side-by-side on the grass; then, a gust of wind howls past and flaps your hair, and the culprit is in the form of itoshi sae, who looks as if he’s barely moving with how seamless he moves across the field of heaving boys.

there’s something entrancing about how he handles the ball—ruthless and decisive. in class, he’d just be sitting by himself, bored, while people flock around him like moths to a flame. but here, he’s thriving, nearly smiling if you know itoshi sae well enough. and you do.

even under where the sun is too high, and you’re feeling too warm in this light shirt, sae is untouched.

“he’s really cool,” you continue after a beat, and kamiko harrumphs.

“i like sae-kun, too,” she declares.

“oh,” you blink. you suppose best friends don’t have a free pass. “should we rock, paper, scissors it?”

you do rock, and she does scissors. you let out a little, woo! because you don’t get to win this often. rock, paper, scissors is always the easiest way to settle things.

“this is stupid!” kamiko fumes, her ears red from embarrassment.

you laugh, waving it off. “sorry, miko-chan. d’you want my candy as truce?”

kamiko pouts and takes it from you, still huffy and pouty.

when you turn back to watch the game, there’s a second where sae catches your eye, wiping sweat off his forehead. it spears into you, as sharp as how he sent the soccer ball straight in the net moments ago.

yells, cheers, the ball falls back onto the grass, sae quirks an eyebrow, waving once— victory—! your pulse jumps, and you barely have a moment to wave back.

blinking again, he’s already turning away, leaving you lost like you just lost a goal to him.

“hey,” kamiko nudges you, “you okay?”

you stare after sae’s back, heart racing. “it’s nothing,” you finally say, and kamiko’s brows are furrowed as she looks at you.

the day starts as usual, and it makes you feel off.

nothing seems out of place. your bed is exactly where it’s supposed to be; breakfast is your favorite, served precisely how you like it. you even arrived on time for class. nothing seems wrong, and it’s making you nervous because there’s a clawing feeling in your chest for no reason.

there seems to be nothing but clear skies, sunny with bright blue. birds singing, leaves fluttering and crunching under your feet, and the way to school is just smooth sailing. there is nothing out of place.

but the moment you step onto your classroom, everyone’s gazes cut into you. there’s a gleam in all of them, making you seize up, glancing around warily.

“what?” you ask defensively, scowling.

“hey, y/n-chan, is it true that you like sae?” one of your classmates asks, wearing a smile that spells out nothing but trouble.

“what…?” you stare at him, bewildered. “where did you get that?”

“from everyone, really. it was a hot topic earlier, didn’t you hear?”

it shouldn’t make you feel as shameful as it is, but the way everyone in the room is giggling and the way their eyes feel like they’re everywhere—in each corner of the room, on the floor, groping your body—makes you want to leave the room right and there, yet your feet are glued to the floor.

“you’re crushing on your friend? that’s so awkward!”

“way to ruin your friendship with someone like sae-kun…”

“haha! you think you have a chance, y/n?” someone else whispers from the sides. “that’s so brave of you.”

mortification boils in your stomach, and you feel it in the way your throat constricts, and your hands shake. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.” why do they care? do they have to stare this much?

“you’re so nervous!” she laughs, leering cruelly. “so it’s true!”

“leave me alone,” you snarl, fuming. with anger or humiliation? you don’t know.

all you know is that you only told one person about it, which can only mean one thing. you catch her eye, and at least, kamiko has the decency to look guilty.

you don’t know what went down earlier and what you did to make kamiko spill your confession, but what’s done is done, and there’s no use denying it when you’ve already lashed out.

you push past the students crowding around you and tune all their mocking sneers out, wishing the day would just end already.

you could get out right now, leave the room and pretend you were sick to not face any more of their suffocating scrutiny. but that is admitting defeat over petty gossip, and you will not have them winning over you just because of a stupid crush.

the door creaks open again, and the whispers increase with fervor and strength. a chair screeches against the tiles before it pauses, and suddenly everyone shuts up. you can feel someone’s stare drilling craters on the back of your head, but you don’t trust yourself to be able to look back, knowing who it is without even trying.

“y/n.”

you bury your face in your arms.

sae tries again. “who did this to you?”

“not now, itoshi. leave me alone.”

“stupid,” sae grumbles under his breath.

that day, when you shove past everyone and ignore kamiko and sae calling after you, is the day any affection towards sae is buried by disgust towards yourself.

your prayers are answered when news spreads out that sae is off to spain the next day.

it is sudden, despite his younger brother answering questions saying that yes, he’s already been planning to for a while; no, this is not sudden. and you know it, too, because sae told you about it before; you were just not expecting it to be this soon.

however, coincidence or not, you’re just relieved to know that you don’t have to embarrass yourself in front of your best friend ever again.

someone jokes that you scared him away, and you tell them that you’re grateful you did before you punch someone in front of him.

he never said goodbye.

whatever. he’s probably disgusted at you anyway.

(he becomes a star; you forget about itoshi sae for years.)

YEARS LATER.

“ahhh—finally!” kamiko wails, stretching her arms over her head at what looks to be a painful angle.

you groan, nearly losing balance and passing out on the floor, but unfortunately, kamiko is quick enough to tip you back. “ugh, that felt like ages. what if i just drop out? i could just do that now.”

“don’t,” kamiko laughs, patting your head lightly, pinky high and everything, “you’ll die worse than before if you give up now.”

you swat her hand away.

it took a while before you and kamiko got along again.

years, even. you think you still can’t accept her apology, but eventually, you got over your crush, people stopped talking about the incident, and your bitterness towards her left along with it. not like you could even try getting rid of her when she trails after you like a lost puppy, anyway.

so now here you are, in a reluctant friendship with kamiko, despite everything. it’s not worth losing a friendship over some boy, whether or not it’s itoshi sae.

so long as she knows what she did was wrong, she’s fine, you suppose. she hasn’t done anything else after that, so you let it be.

“you’re right. i can’t drop out when finals just ended,” you sigh, slumping. “i’ll do it when the next term starts so i don’t put myself through that again.”

“so dramatic,” kamiko giggles. “i’ll support whatever you do, okay?”

you roll your eyes, hip-checking her. “i know.”

like every poisoned teenager in the modern age, you reach for your phone and mindlessly scroll through as kamiko lists off her plans for the entire school break. something about flying out of the country for vacation, and you should consider coming. (the answer is no, obviously.)

“don’t hole yourself up in your room, y/n-chan!” kamiko scolds; it reminds you of a fretting mother hen. “that’s not healthy. we don’t get breaks often—have fun with it as much as you can.”

“okay,” you murmur, only half-heartedly listening in lieu of searching for a new series to binge over break. there’s nothing interesting. you scowl.

“hey, look,” kamiko remarks, tapping at your screen to pause at one article. “my feed has been all about soccer lately, too. i never even liked anything about sports!”

“weird,” you agree, but you don’t think too much about it. the familiar view of your neighborhood washes over your eyes, and you pause, . “hey, my stop is here. see you after break?”

kamiko pecks your cheek, “see you, then!”

you bid goodbyes, and the day should end just like that: on a high note, free from the shackles of student torture. when you reach your home, though, the weariness is overshadowed by sudden restlessness.

“ugh,” you say again because you already know what to do to cool off.

a school break is exactly what you need.

a school break should be spent at home, probably lying on the bed sleeping, and if not dozing off, then just lying somewhere with music blasting to muffle any thoughts in your head. it is meant to relax, waste time away, and regret it the next day because you never did anything you wanted to.

but the weather is still perfect; the setting sun isn’t smothered by gray clouds, nor is the wind sipping warmth off of your body. it’s not every day your mood matches the weather, so you get up, dress nice enough to not look like a zombie who had to take a math exam, and head out.

“stupid kamiko and her romanticized lifestyle,” you gripe, hugging your arms when your pace picks up speed. “’s starting to get to me, too.”

the theaters could be a good place to start, you muse, scanning the posters on the walls.

superhero action? eh. cheesy romcom? maybe not when you’re still reeling from finals. horror? might scare the stress away, sure, but the movie doesn’t look appealing.

you move to the next, when out of the blue, a body pushes up against you, almost shoving you to the screen.

“hey, back up a little, would you?” you hiss under your breath, spinning around to face a man that makes you pause for a moment out of surprise. he’s crowding behind you like he wants something, and he is suspiciously familiar—you just can’t put a finger on it.

he lifts an eyebrow. “you talking to me?”

your face scrunches, curiosity shattering instantly. “who else is there?”

“no.” the man shakes his head, staring right at you. “you talking to me like that?”

“okay, you don’t have to be a little—”

he scoffs, and that constipated, dead-inside face he’s making clicks puzzle to its empty slots.

that aggravating attitude, exuding confidence and arrogance with every word; two thick strands of hair framing the sides of his face, and that biting stare in green eyes—

“itoshi?” you blabber, dumbfounded.

you’re not sure why you didn’t recognize him instantly, but now that you are, you almost want to let your jaw hang open with how much he’s grown into his features, all spiky strands and soft skin.

the years have been treating him a little too well, it seems.

sae’s eyes sharpen at you before he quickly looks around, surveying the oblivious crowd—utterly unaware of japan’s golden boy cornering a helpless little you in front of a movie poster.

you follow his gaze and snort at his wary expression. “are you hiding from someone?”

sae’s gaze swivels back, and suddenly, your laughter dies down. ���come watch the movie with me.”

you turn behind you, gazing at the poster featuring a boy jumping high up in the air, reaching for a ball, then back to itoshi sae, who looks like he’d rather bury himself on his bed than be here.

“we haven’t even seen each other for so long.”

sae looks at you with an expression that speaks: so?

“this is…” you slowly say, “a volleyball movie.”

again, with the look: and i care, because…?

you splutter, hands raised in defense. “well, isn’t soccer your whole shebang?”

“you like it,” he says, unblinking, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the poster, “we will watch it.”

“i didn’t even say anything about liking it—”

seemingly having enough of your stalling, he tugs on your wrist and leads you to where the movie you “chose” is showing. you keep talking in hopes of scaring him off to spain once again, but he seems determined to ignore you, and it’s not in the way you need at the moment.

since when did he even get tickets?

“at least take me to dinner first, jeez,” you grumble when he leads you to two seats in the far corner.

“it’s not like i’m asking you to sleep with me. and aren’t movies counted as dates?” sae counters easily, plopping down on the seat next to you, as if he didn’t just drag you into this just to hide from god knows who.

“okay, genius, answer me this: who are you even running from?”

sae isn’t the type to squirm, but the face he makes might as well be the closest you can get out of him. “i don’t want to do stupid photoshoots.”

although your friendship with sae felt mostly one-sided because of how inexpressive he is, you’re glad you can read him more easily than anyone else. it makes you feel giddy, even if you know that he never explained why he didn’t say goodbye, and your last interaction was, to be frank, mortifying.

but right now, he isn’t saying anything about it. he isn’t even looking at you’re a pebble he kicked off the side of the road, like he usually does to everyone else. so this might be good—maybe sae actually has a heart in there, willing to spare you from embarrassment just to continue this friendship.

even when here, he’s a celebrity, and you’re just a childhood friend who had a crush on him.

you might have liked him because of that—a star the world can’t handle just yet in the body of one boy. he lets you stay by his side, even if you could never follow after him. he’s always there; if he’s not, he comes back somehow, a pull of gravity bringing you together.

with a long, dragged-out sigh at that thought and this situation, you lean against the headrest. “i’m on school break. i wish you just chose some pretty girl to drag into your undercover mission.”

“i did.”

you turn to face him with a grimace, but he’s looking right at you without a hint of amusement. just faint confusion, as if he’s wondering why you’re even wishing for something like that.

deciding to ignore his comment, you continue, “i feel like i’m about to get handcuffed the moment someone sees us together. not the best way to spend my break, itoshi.”

“you won’t,” sae huffs, and it almost sounds like a laugh. “just watch the damn movie.”

stunned at the slight upturn of his lips, you wordlessly watch the screen in front of you, but nothing about it is on your mind and is instead on the boy who you never thought you would see again.

(as always, even with blaring signs and butterflies in your stomach, you choose not to overthink it.)

“i can’t believe you sat through the entire movie,” you remark as soon as the credits roll, chuckling from disbelief.

sae usually leaves halfway through and doesn’t remember anything about it the moment he steps out. that is, if he even bothers watching in theaters in the first place. it’s soccer, soccer, soccer for him, and there is no hope in getting him out of it.

he faces you with a blank stare. “if you wanted to leave, you could’ve just told me.”

“and do that to you when you looked so captivated by a volleyball movie?” you snort, recalling the near-starstruck expression on his face you caught a glimpse of during the climax of the movie. “i’m no monster, itoshi.”

sae blinks, turning away with a scowl. “you were seeing things.”

you give him a helpless, fond smile and thank the heavens he doesn’t see it.

abruptly, he stands up and begins walking away, taking your hand along with it. his hand is warm, and your face is getting warmer, borderline hot, the more he continues doing literally anything.

for someone hiding from a photoshoot, he sure is roaming around with someone else in tow too freely.

“let’s eat dinner.”

“what? stop taking me hostage,” you whine, wriggling in his grip. onlookers give you glances before double-taking when their eyes catch a glimpse of an itoshi sae out in the wild. “i know you missed me and all, but if you keep dragging me everywhere, i’ll start screaming for help.”

“y/n,” he warns, with a slight glare.

you’re pretty sure your eyebrows reach your hairline hearing that from him. a pause, then: “you still remember my name.”

sae frowns. “what do you take me for?”

“an asshole.”

he shrugs and doesn’t deny it. “we were best friends.”

right, your gaze rips away from his, frowning at the floor. best friends. were best friends, ex-friend, classmate from years ago—that’s what you are to sae right now, and who are you to force yourself any more into his life again? look at how that ended up last time.

“actually,” you rip your wrist away from his grasp, trying to hide the hurt that is probably flashing across your face, “i don’t know if i want to eat dinner here, itoshi…”

sae’s frown deepens, but thankfully doesn’t push. “then, give me your number.”

“my number…?”

“you didn’t have a phone before i left,” he explains, with a hand patiently stretched out. “give me your number.”

you reluctantly grant him your phone to show the screen where a series of digits are displayed. dutifully, sae types it down on his own phone, which is probably the latest brand of the most expensive one you can think of.

“what is that for?” you ask, belatedly, once sae’s handed your phone back to you.

“you said you’re on school break. i’m taking you out tomorrow.”

“take me out?”

sae quirks a brow, amused. “are you complaining? didn’t you used to have a crush on me?”

you feel your face go up in flames, mortified. “had. had! that was ages ago. i don’t—”

of course. of course sae didn’t forget! he wouldn’t bring it up early to scare you off into spain, and now he’s cornered you right where he wants you. damn him!

sae tilts his head, inching closer, “you don’t?”

the whiff of his cologne and the dizzying proximity kills off the lies you were about to spew.

with a cough, you glower, “didn’t know you were so obsessed with me that you still remember something as stupid as that.”

he huffs a short laugh and lets you reel from assumptions by staying silent.

god, does he have to be so infuriating? you can almost feel your collar looming over your pulse the more those sharp green pierce straight right at where it hurts the most.

fuck.

this is the part where you realize that even after all this time, sae is still infuriatingly handsome. and even now that you’re mature and can tell right from wrong, you’re still attracted to him. gravity pulling, tugging right back into his palm.

(he is a star; how could you even think of forgetting about the same person you orbit around?)

you slam your hands on the counter, startling your friend into nearly dropping her phone straight onto the marble floor. “i like itoshi sae,” you declare, and recoil at saying that out loud.

kamiko perks up in confusion, blinking owlishly. “what?”

“i like itoshi sae,” you repeat, horrified. “again!” as if once wasn’t traumatizing enough.

she realizes she heard it right the first time and her jaw drops to the floor. “wait, how? what happened? what the hell did i miss? break just started yesterday—”

“he’s back in japan!” you weep, clutching your head with a grip strong enough to rip skin. “and i ran into him…?”

“is that a question or a statement?”

“shut up! he, like, roped me into watching a movie with him, and we spent the entire night together—”

“you had a one-night stand with itoshi sae?”

“not like that!” you shriek, heart bursting so wildly that blood rushes to your cheeks instantly. the implications of that are something you want to ignore. “i was just his… one-night girlfriend. except we didn’t do anything, it was barely even a date.” admitting it aloud makes you realize how stupid it sounds.

“y/n-chan!” kamiko gasps, eyes sparkling so bright you’d think she’s trying to blind you from excitement. she ambles over and grabs both of your hands. “y/n-chan, that is so incredibly stupid of you; you have to tell me everything that happened!”

“hey.” you frown, scandalized. “didn’t you like itoshi, too? and we fought over him through rock, paper, and scissors.”

kamiko’s eyes widen comically, slapping a hand over your mouth. “don’t say that!” she hisses, looking around as if you two aren’t the only ones in her kitchen. “my boyfriend might beat up your boyfriend before he even gets to be your boyfriend!”

the thought of kamiko’s spindly-built boyfriend fighting against soccer genius itoshi sae is a hilarious visual image.

“i’d like to see him try,” you laugh, pulling her hand away.

kamiko lifts one eyebrow, clearly wanting to point out that you didn’t deny anything about sae being your boyfriend. she pulls out her phone and starts researching, looking for any juicy information about japan’s golden boy. “i didn’t know itoshi-kun was back here. is that why my feed has been bombarded with soccer news?”

“i didn’t know either,” you wail, rolling your head to face heavenwards, ready to be taken in. “if i did, i never would’ve gotten out. i wouldn’t be in this mess, then. you’re leaving tomorrow, right? take me with you. i’ll start packing.”

kamiko shakes her head, drawing you back to her. “i’m sorry, y/n-chan. you have to face this like a real man!” with a free hand on your shoulder and fists pumping for effect.

you scowl. she’s betrayed you twice now. “weren’t you the one who wanted me to come!?”

kamiko turns back to her phone, curious. “hey, look. there was an interview earlier…”

sae texted you that same morning after that conversation with kamiko, telling you that he wanted to meet up and see you again. he said he still wanted to eat dinner and asked if you still didn’t want to, but after witnessing the car crash of an interview, you demand answers from him.

right now, though, you’re suddenly regretting not bringing a coat and scarf large enough to avoid any passerby glancing at you and wondering why you looked so familiar.

speaking of:

“hey, did you hear about itoshi’s interview?”

“what? what? itoshi the soccer kid?”

“yes! he said he’s seeing someone!”

“he can’t be! he hasn’t even met me yet!”

“was it the girl people saw with him last night?”

“wow, and here i thought his kind aren’t the type to be interested in romance…”

it’s that interview again. they haven’t stopped talking about it since the release. is that the easiest way to hook the entire population’s attention? stir romance and some celebrity in a pot, and suddenly, it’s pouring out money.

you want to muffle both your ears with your palms, but that would draw more unwanted attention, and you’re already running a bit late to your “date” with itoshi sae.

your heart is pounding. you want to get in there and hold it until it calms down.

“y/n.” a hand catches your arm, tugging you to a chest.

sae is holding you. “you almost ran past me.”

you blink, eyes round. “i was running?”

“from me, it almost seemed like,” he says, and pulls away only to take one good look at you. “you dressed up.”

“i did for you,” you nod, pleased, because you know he means that he thinks you look good. but no. first: “i might’ve been running because of that interview”

sae’s composed expression wavers, for a moment. he avoids your eye, glancing around with deeply furrowed brows. for anyone, he looks like he somehow got stomach cramps, but to you, this is easily translatable as sae being flustered.

“there is nothing to explain.”

“itoshi.” you grab him by the shoulders, heart racing and eyes wild. “you dragged me into a movie date last night. if it turns out you’re already in a relationship, i am going to kick your ass all the way to spain for playing with me—”

sae cups both of your cheeks in return. “i was talking about you, stupid. who else would be there? you think i’d look at anyone else?”

sae glowers at the ground when you try to meet his eyes, murmuring, “there are not a lot of things in japan that interest me. i have my own goals, but i am not immune to this. if you weren’t here, i wouldn’t bother staying— why are you crying?”

“itoshi!!!!” you hug him, sniffling. “i thought— i thought you left and didn’t care for me anymore! i thought i scared you off to spain when you heard about my massive crush on you!”

sae’s face is a mix of constipated and flabbergasted, but he doesn’t make any move to push you away. “what do you mean? you already knew about my feelings for you.”

“...when?” if sae confessed to you in any way, you definitely don’t remember anything, which means it never happened. if sae ever proclaimed his love for you, it’d be the only thing on your mind.

“we went on a date.” sae looks as confused as you are. “did you not know? it was obvious.”

“...what about your attitude made it obvious!?”

“you’re into my attitude.”

“shut up, itoshi.” you lightly hit his chest, overwhelmed by the flurry of emotions that keeps crashing over your soul, “promise me i’m not just a one-time thing?”

“never. you’re never just that.” much to your surprise, sae pulls you in by the waist and smiles. it’s small, barely visible, but it’s still there. “and it’s sae, dumbass. can we get on with the date now?”

“—another question, itoshi-kun,” the interview starts, sliding closer to the edge of her seat to inspect any of itoshi’s micro-expressions (not that she’d get any since sae can easily compose himself, and only those who can understand him well enough can look past that), “pictures from last night are spreading like wildfire! tell us, who were you with?”

sae doesn’t hesitate: “it’s none of your business.”

“hm, but you sure didn’t act that way when you let yourself be seen in public like that,” she says, and though her expression doesn’t give it away, she’s riling him up on purpose.

itoshi’s eyebrow twitches slightly. he looks impatient. “i’m not ashamed to be seen with her, so don’t fucking bother trying anything. what i have with her is out of your concern.”

“so, does that mean—”

“yes, i’m seeing someone,” he cuts her off smoothly, running thin, “and yes, who you saw is the one for me. are you going to keep asking questions unrelated to soccer? i’m going to leave.”

he does leave before the interview can even reply, checking his phone and typing:

sae

let’s meet again.

i want to see you.

a/n: just wanna say: i literally know NOTHING about this man and only based his characterization off of glimpses and scenes i saw from the manga (and for me to translate a soccer match to a romantic fic is torture). so the fact out of everyone in blue lock, a fic about sae has the highest word count is insanity. i need to balance it out with bachira and isagi fics asap.

[barcaluvv]

𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐷𝐴𝑌 »

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙵𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚓𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝.

You & Fermin have been together for four months now, to be exact it took you a lot of time to become a couple.

It's not because you didn't like eachother at first, he was just drastically shy.

Whenever you two interacted, his high profile cheeks went bright pink in a way you actually found it adorable, but he managed to talk it out cause he hated showing his soft side to anyone until he meet you, until he opened his heart to you.

It was a sunny day in Spain, the sky was emptied with just the sun peeking out seeking for literal attention from people inside their houses including you two.

Fermin was cutely sitting on the sofa-bed next to the TV, of course he was cuddled upon your body. The room was filled with hot wind and silent breathing atleast from you because Fermin did the quite opposite, i mean what to expect when you literally sat your whole body on his stomach he struggled to keep up but he wanted to be the tough guy so he just went with the flow instead of ruining your comfort, he truly loved you.

Fermin took a deep breath, and after a while he began to smile noticing that you were melting from the heat.

And so you laid there for a while until you told him that your bathing suits arrived this morning and you really wanted to show them to him.

Of course he couldn't refuse and he sat patiently and waited even though you expected him to be very jealous that you were going to wear it on the beach. He was indeed jealous but he had other ideas in mind.

"¿Te gustó este primero?" you asked him with your arms crossed.

"Es hermoso" he winked trying to hide his blush pulling you closer to him.

A few hours passed and you headed to the beach, you grabbed all the things you needed and you had no doubt that Fermín would make something of his own because you know him well enough to know that he is prepared for anything.

"Close your eyes okay?" said Fermin, smiling and fighting the urge not to giggle.

You did as he said even though you were very confused about the situation.

He led you slowly out of the car, followed your every step and made sure you didn't hurt yourself, even wanting to carry you out.

He took your hands away from your eyes with his gentle fingers and touch.

After you opened your eyes, you saw nothing but an empty beach? You expected a big crowd, but there was none.

"Look hermosa, now you can enjoy urself because I don't have to worry about others glancing at you."

You seriously hired the whole beach for me? You looked at him with desire and pure joy.

He picked you up in his arms, "Anything for you." he kisses your forehead cutely.

until the end of the day you bathed and layed together in the sun, you buried him in the sand, you built towers and laughed at his stupid but cute jokes.

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 :) ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ɴᴏ ɪᴅᴇᴀ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ~ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀ ʙᴀsɪᴄ sᴛᴏʀʏ ^^

[fluentmoviequoter]

With You, Even When I'm Not

Requested Here by the amazing @newobsessionweekly!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: When one of Tim Bradford's enemies is released from prison, he sets out to hurt Tim by hurting you. You trust that Tim will save you, but time is not on your side.

Warnings: angst, car accident, torture (injuries to r), based on 2x11 but this isn't a rewrite (for once lol), crying, fluff and comfort

Word Count: 5.5k+ words

A/N: I didn't include a scene with Tim threatening someone like he does in 2x11 and I kinda regret it because it was hot, but I also really like how this turned out...

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“The almighty Tim Bradford isn’t coming to save you. You know why? Because you’re already dead.”

You force your eyes open and ignore the pain and fear to say, “So are you.”

Less than eight hours ago, you sat beside Tim in roll call. You force yourself to remember that rather than consider what Ferguson plans to do to you.

- 8 Hours Ago - 

Your day starts like any other: you wake up, get ready, go to the station, and take your seat beside Tim for roll call. The sun is bright, the sky clear, and Los Angeles is event-free for once. So, it has the makings for a good day.

“What is up with you?” Tim asks quietly.

“What do you mean?” you counter.

“You’re all smiley and happy. Someone puked in my shop yesterday and you’re acting like this is the best job in the world.”

“It is!” You chuckle at his look before explaining, “It’s going to be a good day. Just let me enjoy this one for every hundred bad ones I’ve dealt with.”

“Sure.”

Wade enters, and you give him your full attention, though you never forget about Tim. He’s a constant in your life, and you wish you could have him by your side every moment, not just during roll call.

“Nolan, Harper is back so you can return to your TO,” Wade says.

“That’s why you’re so happy,” Tim muses. “You got rid of Nolan.”

You shake your head and smile before you stand. You’re patrolling in one of the nicest Los Angeles neighborhoods today, so you probably won’t see or hear Tim much today.

“Have a good one,” you tell him.

“Be careful,” he replies.

You exit the room, and Tim watches you go. Lucy walks to his side and stops, aware of what he’s looking at and longing for.

“Let’s go, boot, don’t just stand there,” Tim demands.

“Bradford,” Wade calls. “A word? Chen can stay.”

Tim nods and follows Lucy to the front of the room.

“Ferguson was released on parole this morning,” Wade says. “Sorry to tell you like this, but I thought you should know.”

“He had fifteen years left; how did this happen?” Tim asks.

“Who’s Ferguson?” Lucy inquires.

“Someone I arrested,” Tim answers. “He threatened to kill me when he got out.”

“Oh. Uh, should we-“

“That is up to Officer Bradford,” Wade interjects. “If you want to sit today out, I’ll understand.”

“No. I’m not letting him ruin my life, too. We can handle Ferguson if he’s stupid enough to show his face.”

“The parole board seems convinced he’s reformed, but we both know he’s a good liar and a better manipulator. Keep your eyes open, Tim, and don’t hesitate to call in anything you think is a threat.”

“Yes, sir. Let’s go, boot.”

Tim leads Lucy to the shop, and he's quieter than usual. Lucy hasn’t been a cop as long as him, but she knows what it’s like to have a criminal blame you for the consequences of their actions. She won’t push Tim, not about this, but she has questions about everything she heard.

“Pull up Roscoe Ferguson,” Tim says as he turns onto the road. “Get familiar with his face. If you see him, I want you to know it’s him.”

“You really think he’ll do something?” Lucy asks as she turns the dashboard computer toward her.

“I’m counting on it.”

“Dispatch, this is 7-Adam-9, are there any alerts in my area?” you ask into the radio.

“Negative, 7-Adam-9.”

You nod to yourself and place the radio back in the console. The morning has been quiet and slow. You know you shouldn’t complain; a sunny drive in the hills is rarely a bad thing, but you’re a cop, and you’re getting bored.

“7-Adam-9, switch to channel 4 for Sergeant Grey,” dispatch instructs.

You turn the channel dial and let Wade know you’re there. He doesn’t answer, and you slow at a stop sign as you bounce the radio against your thigh.

“You’re in the hills, right?” Wade asks suddenly.

He doesn't use your name or call number, only asks a rushed question. It concerns you, but you remain professional.

“Yes, sir,” you answer. “Do you need me to come back?”

“No, stay up there. Just wanted to double-check.”

“What’s going on?”

Wade goes silent again, and you repeat the question.

“Nothing, I hope. Just trying to keep everyone connected to Bradford out of the heart of LA today.”

“Why?”

“Ferguson was released.”

“He has 15 years left on his sentence!” you exclaim into your empty car.

“I know. I’m trying to get everything figured out and petition for it to be reversed, but for now, just keep working.”

“Yes, sir.”

You turn the channel back and set the radio down. Roscoe Ferguson hates Tim and would do anything to get to him. Tim knows you're here for him, so you focus on your assignment. The Hollywood hills are quiet this morning, but you know better than to let your guard down.

As you turn onto Tahoe Drive, you notice a black truck in your rearview. He gets close to the tail of your shop but slows suddenly and turns onto Tahoe Place. You roll your eyes; the people who live in the Hills drive like they own the hills. They probably do, but it doesn’t excuse unsafe vehicle operation.

You round the bend where Tahoe Drive turns into Lake Hollywood Drive, and the Hollywood Reservoir comes into view. When you glance up, you see the black truck speeding toward you again. You hit the lights and leave them on for a few seconds as a warning, but the driver doesn’t slow. If they pass you, you’ll stop them and issue a ticket, you decide.

There’s a point on Lake Hollywood Drive where there’s less than 200 feet of terrain between the road and the reservoir. It’s covered in sparse foliage, but it would be easy enough to get to the water or hide in the trees. You realize too late that the truck isn’t slowing down or moving to pass you as you near that point. It rams into you from behind, and you lurch forward before the seatbelt catches and snatches you backward. Steering is pointless as the shop slides into a small patch of dirt. The truck is still driving, pushing your car forward. The driver stops just before you collide with a tree, and you reach for the radio.

It's fallen from the console, and the seatbelt holds you uncomfortably tight to your seat. As you wrestle to free yourself and get the radio, you don’t see the man exit the truck or approach your window. He hits it with an illegal tool used for breaking into cars, and you turn your face away as glass showers over you.

“Hi,” he greets. “7-Adam-9, right?”

“And you’re Roscoe Ferguson,” you answer.

“Bradford, get back to the station,” Wade radios, “Now.”

“What’s going on?” Tim asks as he makes a U-turn.

“Ferguson stole a truck. We don’t know where he went after or what he’s planning to do.”

“We should find him,” Lucy says.

“And don’t say you should go look for him,” Wade adds. “You’re too close to this.”

“He’s not going to kill me, Grey,” Tim argues. “Let me help. I caught him once; I can do it again.”

“Get back to the station. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tim sighs as he continues driving toward the station. The last time he worried about Roscoe Ferguson, you were sitting beside him. Though you’ll never take the credit, Tim thinks you’re the main reason he finally got Ferguson in cuffs. 

“What now?” Lucy asks.

“We find a way to help find Ferguson,” Tim replies.

“Get out,” Ferguson demands. 

He pushes the gun closer to your face, and you raise your hands slowly. Your left shoulder aches from the impact of the seatbelt, and as you reach through the broken window to open your door, you feel the tiny scratches littering your face and neck sting. Ferguson pulls you away from the shop and pushes you toward the reservoir.

“What’s your plan here, Roscoe?” you ask.

He taps the gun against your back to make you keep walking. With your back to him, you slide your hand into your pocket and remove the laminated piece of paper you keep in it. It falls to the ground, and you hope it’s enough to help Tim find you and Roscoe. 

“Kill me to get to Tim? Hurt him without touching him because you know he won’t let you get the chance?”

“Shut up!” Ferguson yells. “Walk!”

Taunting him may not be your brightest decision, but making him mad will make him careless. When you reach the water, he grabs your belt and pulls you backward. Your breath rushes out as your back hits the ground, but you smile through the pain.

“You will never beat him,” you say.

“Tim Bradford took everything from me. Let’s see how he likes the feeling,” Ferguson responds.

He raises the gun to your face and pushes the barrel against your forehead. You keep your eyes on him, unwilling to flinch in the face of death. He changes his mind, however, and brings the butt of the handle down against your temple instead, and everything goes dark as the water blows in the wind.

Tim and Lucy have been relegated to desk duty. With Ferguson on the run and numerous threats against Tim’s life, Wade decided it would be best for him to stay here. Wade watches them from his office and shakes his head when Lucy begins twirling her handcuffs around her finger. His phone rings and Wade steps away from the glass door to answer it.

“Sergeant Grey,” he answers.

He listens silently before lowering the receiver and stepping out into the station. Tim looks up, and his expression drops immediately.

“What happened?” Tim asks as he stands.

“They found the stolen truck. It was involved in an accident near the reservoir. He, uh… Ferguson ran a cop off the road, and they’re both missing.”

“Who?” Tim asks, urgency and panic lacing the syllable.

Before Wade can answer, dispatch reads your badge number in a missing officer alert, and Tim’s blood runs cold. He freezes, staring at Wade as he realizes what has happened and that it’s his fault. Tim never anticipated Ferguson going for the people Tim cares about – loves – and he should have.

“Let me go out there,” Tim demands lowly. “I can find her.”

“I shouldn’t,” Wade answers. He looks to Lucy and adds, “But I will. Don’t try to do this alone, Bradford. Take help where you can get it.”

“I don’t want the credit; I want her back,” Tim snaps.

“Then get to the reservoir and do what you do best, Tim.”

Lucy nods at Wade, an unspoken promise that she’ll do her best to help him and keep him from spiraling. They both know that it’s easier said than done.

“Tim,” you call out when you wake.

“Nope, just me,” Ferguson says.

He’s sitting across from you as he carves a piece of wood into a chipmunk. Your arms are tied tightly behind you, and one of your ankles is secured to a metal pole with your handcuffs. Whatever he’s planning to do to you will hurt you, but it will hurt Tim much worse.

“I hope you’re asking for a lot of ransom,” you mumble.

“You and I both know this isn’t about money. It’s about that little partner of yours and what he did to me.”

“Making you pay for your crimes? Yeah, he’s a terrible person.”

Ferguson moves forward quickly. The half-finished wood carving falls to the floor as he presses the knife under your jaw.

“These whittling knives are small, but I can cut an artery before you can call out to him again,” he threatens.

You swallow, causing the knife to bob in his hand. He presses harder and turns to the left before standing. Warm blood trickles down your neck, and you wonder what he plans to do to you before he kills you. If you didn’t have so much faith in Tim, you’d be tempted to anger Ferguson and trick him into killing you early. It’s a terrible thing to think, but at the end of the day, you’re a cop, and you know when your chances aren’t good enough. Right now, they are.

“When he gets here, he will put a bullet in you this time,” you tell Ferguson.

“You stopped him last time,” he answers.

He’s planning to use you as a human shield; let Tim be the one to finish you off in the darkness. Perhaps that’s why you’re underground. The only light you see is from a small lamp; when it goes off, you will be plunged into complete darkness.

“Stop talking,” Ferguson demands as he retrieves his chipmunk. “We don’t have much air in here.”

You try not to let your shock show, but as you look around and fail to see a single air vent, you worry that Tim won’t make it in time. Forcing yourself to take a steady breath, you close your eyes.

“No, no, no,” Ferguson chides. “No napping. We have to stay awake for the pre-game, and the final score.”

He tips your head back, and your eyes open instinctually. When he sees that, he tightens his grip on your jaw and circles you. Looking at him upside-down, you tug against your restraints. He raises a foot and places it on your bound hands before stepping down hard and fast. Your shoulders pull backward at a painful angle with no room that makes you yell in pain. Ferguson’s laugh drowns out your scream, and he keeps his hand on your jaw as he lays a rope over the back of your neck to hang over your shoulders.

“He’s going to kill you,” you say between pants when Ferguson releases your face.

He hinges at his hip, invading your personal space as he smiles and says, “You too.”

“Bradford, there’s blood,” an officer alerts.

Tim steps to your open shop door and sees a few small, oblong blood drops on your seat. Based on the shape, you were in motion when they fell, and it wasn’t enough blood to kill you.

“Probably from the glass,” he decides. “Let’s move toward the reservoir. We can’t tell footprints apart but watch where you’re stepping!”

“Tim!” Lucy yells from just past the tree line.

He jogs to her side and looks down. She found a small, laminated piece of paper, and Tim recognizes it immediately. Your self-proclaimed “perfect fortune” from one of your first dinners together as P2s rather than rookies. He picks it up and looks toward the water. He’s looking in the right place, you made sure to tell him that, but he feels like he’s missing something else.

“Please,” you whimper, even though you know he can’t hear you.

“How many more times do I have to tell you?” Ferguson asks. “He’s not here.”

The only thing on your mind is Tim because if you stop thinking about him you’ll only know the unbearable pain and the man inflicting it. Ferguson places his foot between your legs, pushing against the chair slowly. It tips back, and you close your eyes and imagine Tim catching you. It doesn’t stop the initial pain of your leg being held in one place by the handcuffs as the rest of your body moves back or the scream you release as you hit the floor, but it does give you a reason to keep fighting. Ferguson pulls you up nearly as fast as he tipped you over, and the rope digs in against the side of your neck.

“This is the best workout I’ve ever had,” he says.

He wipes the sheen of sweat from his forehead, and you notice how hot and thick the air seems. Ferguson admitted that the air supply was limited, so if you start wasting it, maybe he will leave.

“If you call him…” you begin slowly. “Let me hear Tim Bradford’s voice one more time, and I will lure him here for you.”

“Do you think I’m dumb?” Ferguson asks.

You nod and immediately regret it when he pulls the rope and forces your head down toward your chest.

“I’m not letting you take control. This is my plan, and it ends beautifully.”

“I can’t do this!” Tim yells.

He runs his hands over the back of his head and down his face as he squats by the reservoir. There are no other hints about where Ferguson took you, nothing to guide Tim toward saving you, only dirt and broken promises. He told you that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you; Tim whispered the promise in the dead of night when you were asleep during an overnight patrol, yet he’s holding himself to keeping it like it will kill him if he doesn’t. Because it will.

“Tim don’t give up yet,” Lucy encourages. She lowers beside him and lays a hand on his back. “We can do this, but we have to work together. The paper means something right? Could it be more than an indication she was here?”

Tim wipes under his eye, and Lucy’s eyes widen as she realizes tears are streaming down his cheeks. He stops them quickly, but she pats his back to remind him he’s not fighting alone. You’re fighting, too, and Tim needs to remember that.

“Lucy, I lo-“ Tim stops suddenly, though Lucy is confident she knows where he was going. “I know what it means.”

He stands quickly, and Lucy follows him to the place where they found the fortune. The little strip of paper from a fortune cookie has been in your pocket since you read it, but not only for the encouraging message on the front.

“34831,” Tim says.

“Your badge number?” Lucy asks, tilting her head to the side. “What about it?”

“It was on the back of my fortune that night. Hers, though, didn’t have a number. So, we wrote one on it.”

“What’s the number?”

“2 25 12 9. I didn’t think she’d know what it meant.”

“What does it mean?”

“It’s an alphabet cypher, but backward.”

“B, Y, L, I,” Tim rattles off. “If she had this, she may have left more clues at those points: 2, 25, 12, and 9.”

“This would have been about 2,” Lucy says, gesturing to the ground. “That’s what, 2 meters from the car?”

Tim furrows his brows at Lucy’s use of meters but nods anyway.

“We can’t walk 25 meters forward, we’d be in the water,” Lucy points out.

“Then we need to spread out in every direction we can go 25 meters… Unless I’m wrong.”

“Don’t question it.”

“No, she would’ve fought. He wouldn’t have been able to make her go anywhere if she wasn’t willing to. We should assume that she couldn’t leave a trail after this point.”

“Then we’re back where we started?”

“Exactly.”

“Tim, what does that even mean?”

“She’s still here. They both are.”

Tim turns and yells for someone to get satellite imaging of the area and the camera footage from your car. Your body cam and police uniform shirt were discarded by the water but the cameras could tell them what happened before and during the initial attack.

“We’ll find her, Tim,” Lucy promises again.

“Thank you,” Tim whispers.

Running footsteps echo over the top of the tin deathtrap you’re in. Someone yells, and Ferguson ducks his head as he moves out of your sight.

“Tim!” you yell.

Your voice cracks, and as you prepare to yell again, Ferguson pulls the rope around your neck. It digs into your skin and compresses your windpipe. Tears begin leaking from your eyes, and after the day you’ve had, you don’t care to stop them.

“Tim, please,” you whisper.

“Welcome to the final round,” Ferguson says into your ear. 

He loosens the rope and pushes your chair forward. His foot pulls down against your hands again, pulling your shoulder muscles cruelly as they stretch to accommodate the impossible movement. You scream in agony as Ferguson pushes you past the point he stopped at previously.

“Did you stop to ask yourself what he’s thinking? Wouldn’t he have found you sooner if he cared? I’ve been out long enough that he knew, yet he let you out by yourself,” Ferguson taunts.

“You won’t win,” you say between ragged breaths.

Ferguson pulls your head to the side to hold the whittling knife against your windpipe, and the cut he made earlier pulls open. Your white shirt is stained with blood and tears, and even as your blinks slow and breathing begins to feel impossible, you trust Tim.

“The almighty Tim Bradford isn’t coming to save you. You know why? Because you’re already dead,” Ferguson says.

You force your eyes open and ignore the pain and fear to say, “So are you.”

Throwing your head backward, you ignore the sting of his knife sliding across the tender skin of your neck. Your skull hits Ferguson’s nose, and he staggers backward with a hand holding his face. Suddenly, you can’t pull a full breath into your lungs. Time has run out, and Tim isn’t here yet. You hold your breath as Ferguson stumbles behind you. He drops, and you see his hand and face are covered in blood. His chest rises and falls slowly, but you’re safe until the rest of the oxygen is used up.

“Tim,” you whisper toward the metal sheet above you.

“Wait!” Lucy calls. “The ground is hollow here.”

Tim returns to Lucy’s side and hears his footsteps echo. It sounds like there’s a metal sheeting under the dirt beneath his boots. He raises a hand to call a few officers over before someone screams. It’s muffled by the metal and earth, but it’s a clear sign of pain. Better than that, it means someone is still alive.

“Find a way in,” Tim demands quietly.

As he searches the area around the hollow spot, he wishes to hear your voice again. Not another scream, but an acknowledgement that you survived whatever caused you such agony.

"Bradford!” Janssen calls.

He waves Tim over and points to a small opening. Together, they lift the heavy steel cover away from the round hole. Another barrier of cloth and metal sheets blocks the entrance, and as Tim digs through, he wonders how much air is getting through, if any. The moment he can see inside the fortified bunker, he pulls his weapon and drops silently into the metal housing.

What was likely meant to be a storm shelter has been converted into a survivalist’s nightmare. A small corridor leads to a wider opening, and a dim light is the only sign that anyone is inside. Tim raises his guns and stays ready to shoot as he nears the opening.

“Tim,” you whisper.

Tim hears your voice and doesn’t hesitate to step into the open room and swing his gun as he clears the small, square area. Ferguson lies unconscious in the corner, and Tim can only see your back, the restraints keeping you in place, and the rope loosely wrapped around your neck and shoulders.

Your shoulders shake as you exhale slowly. When you notice that you can breathe again, you take a deep breath before letting your head fall forward.

“Tim,” you repeat, trying not to think of anything else.

Tim says your name as he holsters his gun. You sit up straight and try to turn your head to the side but are stopped by the pull of the rope and the pain in your shoulders. You hiss in pain before returning to your previous position.

“You can’t trick me, Roscoe,” you mumble.

Tim steps toward Ferguson and handcuffs him. He repeats your name as he moves into your line of sight. His hands are raised to his shoulders, though his expression is pure concern. When he sees the blood, sweat, and dirt covering you and your clothes, he has to fight not to rush to your side.

“Tim,” you say again. Your voice is louder than before but still has an untrusting quality. “Tim.”

When you start crying and lean toward Tim, he kneels before you. He reaches down carefully to use his key and remove the handcuff from your ankle. Your head rests on his shoulder as he moves, and when he sees the damage done to your ankle, the swelling, deep bruising, and handcuff-induced gash, he looks back at Ferguson.

Tim sits up slowly and raises a hand toward your face. He pushes your hair back softly and waits until your eyes meet to speak.

“I need to go get backup,” he says.

“No, no! Please don’t leave me, Tim,” you plead through your slowing tears.

You lean forward and wince when your shoulder meets its new range of motion.

“I need to get Ferguson out of here,” Tim explains. “There’s a lot of people above us waiting for me to signal.”

“Tim, please.”

“Can I yell?”

You swallow as Tim moves closer to you. He stops an inch away from you, with your knees almost touching his ribs.

“I’m not going to yell unless you say I can,” he adds.

Tim waits for your nod, then leans away from you slightly to yell for Janssen and Lucy to come in.

“Help me,” you whisper when Tim’s eyes return to you.

He sits back on his heels as he unloops the rope from around you. It’s heavy, and he sees your shoulders drop once it’s away from you. They drop unevenly, though, and he knows you need more help than he can give you.

“I’m staying with you,” Tim promises, “but I have to untie your hands.”

You shake your head quickly, and Tim moves his hands to the sides of your thighs as he agrees not to leave. He asks Lucy to free your hands and keeps his hands on you as Lucy cuts the restraints.

“Thank you,” you say.

Tim doesn’t answer before you pull your arms forward. With them free, you don’t hesitate to raise them and wrap them around his shoulders. It hurts, and you sob as you fall forward and cling to Tim. He welcomes your touch and wraps his arms around your waist, but he doesn’t touch you, too mindful of how injured you are and where those unseen injuries are.

“I knew you’d come,” you say through your tears.

Tim looks over your shoulder as Janssen and a few other officers carry Ferguson to the opening. He should call an EMT to meet you here, but he can’t let you go yet. His grip tightens around your waist without thinking. When your only reaction is relaxing against him, Tim holds you as tightly as he needs to. Your tears are drying, and you turn your face toward Tim’s neck to speak.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t leave more clues,” you begin. “But I knew you didn’t need them.”

“The paper was smart,” Tim replies. “And I will always find you.”

“He wanted to lure you down here and trick you into killing me. Every time I called out for you he reminded me that we would both die.”

Tim exhales deeply, unsure how to tell you he knows you and he’d never make that mistake. He sits back, twisting you so that he’s holding you against his chest rather than letting you support your own weight.

“It hurts,” you say softly.

“Can you get out of here? Go up the ladder?” he asks.

“There’s a ladder?”

Tim’s brows furrow at your question. How did Ferguson get you down here if you weren’t conscious when you came in? He shakes his head; the detectives (and Tim) will look into the details of your abduction later. For now, your safety is the priority.

“Can you climb out?” Tim asks.

“Not without help,” you answer. “I don’t think I can walk.”

Tim looks at your ankle again, and his eyes catch on the fresh blood pooling against your collarbone. He leans closer to you to find the source. When he sees the cut across the front of your neck, he knows you need help sooner rather than later.

“Hold on,” he instructs you.

“I- I can’t move my shoulder.”

Tim lays you against the metal floor and looks at your left shoulder. It’s out of its socket, but Tim can’t risk pushing it back in without knowing if your muscles or ligaments are still intact.

“Please just get me out of here.”

Tim nods and turns around so your hips are beside his shoulders. He leans down and pulls your legs over his shoulder rather than your arms. With one hand pressing your shoulder to your side, Tim stands and pulls you up in a modified fireman’s carry. You stifle the yell that tries to escape, and Tim’s heart breaks when he hears it. He spent so much time fighting, desperate to find you, that he didn’t consider how different things would be when he did.

With the help of Janssen, Nolan, and Lucy, Tim gets you back above ground. He collapses to the ground but makes sure you’re set down with care. You reach out for him immediately, and Tim pulls your chest to his again. The paramedics are close, but until they arrive, Tim will hold you like he never has.

“I’m so sorry,” Tim whispers.

“You found me,” you reply. “You found me.”

Your right hand squeezes Tim’s shirt in your hand as you hold onto him. You didn’t doubt him for a second. Being in his arms gives you the safety and comfort you need to fall apart because you know he’ll hold you together.

“I know what it means,” you say. “Or I think I do. B-Y-L-I; it’s backwards, right?”

Tim nods against you, and you smile through your tears. The paramedics arrive, and you’re carefully removed from Tim’s grasp, though his hand stays in yours. You’re not sure you’ll ever be able to let go, but Tim has already made a new promise, and he won’t leave your side until he’s forced to.

“Where’s Kojo?” you ask as Tim leads you into his house.

“He’s staying with Lucy tonight. He gets excited when he sees you and I didn’t want him to hurt you,” Tim answers.

He guides you to the couch and sits beside you after placing your things in his guest bedroom. Tim refused to let you return to your apartment alone after being discharged from the hospital, and you didn’t need much convincing to stay with him while you heal.

You lean your head against Tim’s shoulder, careful not to jostle your shoulder in its sling. He moves his arm to welcome you closer and tilts his head to rest beside yours.

“It’s I love you backward, right?”

Tim looks down at your hand, surprised to see your fortune in it. He takes it from you and flips it to see his handwriting. He nods and sits up straight. When you turn toward Tim, he wipes under your eyes as if he can still see the tears you cried when he saved you. Your skin is littered with scars and reminders of what Ferguson did to you, but Tim still seems to only see you underneath all of it.

“It’s I love you, Bradford,” he answers. “Whether you wanted that to mean ‘from Bradford’ or something else.”

“I begged for you to save me while I was down there with him.”

“I’m-“

“Don’t apologize. I just- I need you to know I trust you that much because I know you love me. I’ve known for a long time. But I also knew that even if you didn’t find me in time, I would die loving you. And life was worth living because you were in it.”

Tim’s hands rise out of his lap before freezing. He looks down at your neck and back to your eyes before smiling. His eyes look misty, but you know yours are, too, so you decide not to tease him about it this one time.

“I don’t know where I’m supposed to put my hands to kiss you,” he mumbles.

You hold his shoulder as you lean in and kiss him. His hands raise to your waist without thought, and other than the soreness of using your obliques to search for Tim while tied in place, it’s a painless touch. Tim moves slowly and intentionally as he kisses you, reminding you of everything he said and did, even what you weren’t present for.

“I love you, Tim Bradford,” you say against his lips.

“I love you. I will always love you, and I will never lose you again.”

Tim slides the fortune into your pocket as he kisses you again, and every pain and fear you faced disappears because you know Tim will always find you and make you whole.

[cupidbedsy]

𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹 ; 𝘤𝘤22 ୨୧

➪ summary: cole seeks out his best friend for help to ask out his crush, and it takes her a while to figure out its her he's talking about

➪ warnings: reader is oblivious, crying, cole is down bad bad

➪ word count: 5.1k

➪ file type: fic - reupload

➪ sunny's notes: i think this might be one of my favorites. i love cole sm and i should really start writing for him more

© cupidbedsy (sunflower-lilac42) ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

cc22 masterlist || nhl masterlist || taglist || navigation

stand there like a ghost shaking from the rain, rain she'll open up the door and say, are you insane

There was a knock on the door, and y/n jumped up from where she sat in her dorm room. She was living by herself since she needed privacy for the upcoming semester and had a particular way of keeping things clean and organized. She scooted off her bed and landed on the ground with a thud, walking towards the door. 

She peaked through the peephole and looked at the person outside in confusion. She pulled away to open the door and gave the boy a wide-eyed smile, “Hi Cole.”

Cole was dripping wet as he stood there. He had run from the bus stop and then had to stand outside the building waiting for someone to either walk in or out, which was an awkward situation to explain, “Hi, can you please let me in? I used to go here and now I play in the NHL, which doesn't matter but I’m looking for my best friend.”

The girl looked at him in confusion, “Um sure?”

And that’s how Cole was here. Wet and shaking from the rain, “Hi y/n/n.”

“What are you doing here? Are you insane? Don’t you have a game tonight? How’d you get in?”

“I needed to see you, I missed you.”

Y/n pulled Cole into her room and gave him a change of clothes, “Let me go throw this in the dryer.”

When the towel was warm enough she brought it back and threw it at him, “Okay now what is the real reason you’re here?”

Cole shrugged, sitting down on the bean bag she had in the room, “I just felt like something was wrong with you.”

“So you missed your NHL game to come to see me because you had a feeling that something was wrong?”

He nodded, now realizing how weird and stupid that sounded. He gave her an awkward, lopsided, smile, “Yeah.”

She shooked her head, a grin making her way onto her face, “You are fucking insane Cole Caufield.”

“Only for you.” He gave her a wink.

ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु

say it's been a long six months and you were too afraid to tell her what you want, want

The past few months had been nerve-wracking for Cole and y/n. They both knew the time till Cole’s NHL debut was decreasing and decreasing. They made the most of it however, spending every waking moment with each other when they could, staying at each other’s dorms, going out to dinner, y/n going to his games. They were never apart unless they absolutely had to be.

Cole’s feelings had only worsened with the more and more they hung out. Every time he would see her his eyes roamed her figure up and down memorizing what she looked like in case one day he would have to pack up everything and leave. 

He would see her in his jersey - which she custom-made - when she went to his games, she constantly stole and wore his hoodies every time they were together, they had been telling the whole world they were both unavailable even if it wasn’t true. 

Y/n wasn’t the only one who had stolen the other’s things. Cole always had a hair tie on his wrist in case she ever got too hot and needed to pull her hair up or it was blowing in her face and giving her a hassle. He stole some of her larger jackets just because they smelled like her and her scent was comforting. He stole her rings sometimes, the metal around his finger giving him something to fidget with when he became anxious. 

As much as they both would love Cole to be in the NHL they were both worried about leaving each other. They had been friends since childhood, always with one another. Their bond strengthened throughout their younger years, each sticking up for the other when needed, and going to each other’s games.

She wore his jersey at World Juniors, and he wore her jersey at her soccer games (both made by her), both screaming out their support. They would wait for each other in their designated spots after each game, running to hug each other once they laid eyes on each other. They always gave one another a small present, a pin or a sticker, or a piece of jewelry. 

The last six months they both noticed the slightly growing distance between them. They were trying to lessen the hurt of him leaving when it came time. Cole had been more worried about her than he ever had been before. He didn’t know if it was his best friend’s protective instincts kicking on or if it was the deeper feelings that had made him feel like this. 

Despite both harboring unknown feelings for each other, they both knew there was a chance that if the other didn’t feel the same, their friendship could fall apart. They were both afraid of how the outcome would end. Cole’s worries were worse than y/n’s, she had been by his side for so long, never doubting him one step of the way, he couldn’t let his stupid little feelings get in the way of that. 

He had been on his way over to her dorm when he received a text from the girl, ‘Bring ice cream and tissues, please.’

His heart broke slightly at the message, confusion plastered on his face. He typed his message in response, asking if there was anything particularly wrong or if something had happened.

She didn’t respond, just emphasizing her first message. Cole sighed at the lack of communication that was going on before turning around and walking back to the parking lot of his dorm to grab his car and go to the store to pick up her favorite ice cream and the soft tissues she had requested.

While he was there, his eyes caught the leftover Valentine’s Day decorations, candy, and other gifts that were severely messed up from the number of times people had gone through them. He sighed when he saw couples rummaging through remnants of the red and pink objects, teddy bears and other stuffed animals, and heart-shaped boxes with chocolates in them. He could’ve been getting them for her. 

He did end up buying a teddy bear, one from the kids section and not from the Valentine’s Day spot. He grabbed her favorite ice cream and some apple juice, picking up her favorite chips and cookies as well. If she was upset, he was determined to make her feel better. He picked the softest tissues he could find and when he was walking his eyes caught sight of the book section.

He looked down at his watch before making a rash decision to take a peek down the aisle. He spotted one of the books she had been wanting for a while and picked it up before heading to checkout. He bagged everything before running back out to his car and driving to her dorm. 

He was lucky that one of the kids that had lived there was walking into the building when he got there, so he just followed suit behind him. He didn’t want to make her come down and get him when he could’ve easily found a way in. He ran up the stairs, not bothering to wait for the elevator, and knocked on her door. 

Y/n sat on her bed, her blanket wrapped around her as she watched her favorite show. She had tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes, her nose a little stuffed from the crying she had done. She walked over to the door and opened it, before she smiled at him, “Coley!”

He walked over to her, pulling her into a hug, “Hey, y/n/n. What’s wrong?”

She shook her head before scooting over and patting the bed, “Come sit.”

Cole jumped onto the bed, took the Target bag, and placed it out in front of her, “I got you ice cream, chips, cookies, apple juice, tissues, and that book you’ve been wanting. And I got you a teddy bear.”

Her eyes immediately filled with tears again, clutching the bear in her arms, burying her head into his shoulder, “‘M gonna miss you.” 

The boy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “What do you mean? I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t know that Cole. You could get the call any day saying you have to go to Montreal. You could leave any day.”

He frowned and wrapped his arm around her, rubbing her shoulder with his thumb, “Is that what’s making you upset?”

She nodded, “I don’t want you to go.” 

He smiled slightly, “I don’t want to go either.”

The two sat in silence before y/n spoke up again, “It’s been a long six months worrying about this.”

“I know.”

And yet, Cole was still afraid to tell her what he wanted.

ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु

and that's how it works that's how you get the girl

“Start with a romantic gesture. Maybe something from her favorite movie, or something cliche. For example, standing in the rain at her doorstep. Or maybe singing a song in front of a large crowd of people. Or maybe doing one of your fears to impress her.”

Cole nodded as he sat on his best friend’s bed, taking mental notes on everything that she was saying. He had come to her for advice on how to ask out a girl that he had liked for what felt like ages at this point. Despite multiple attempts, the girl couldn’t get out a name, not even a hint about the girl, and that was because he could not let her find out it was her.

“Anything else?”

Y/n nodded as she flipped through the pages in her mind, “She will probably tell you that you’re insane for doing something like that, but… it’s cute. A lot of girls would like a big romantic gesture like that.”

“How would you react if someone did that for you?”

She shrugged, “I dunno. I’m not a fan of public things. That’s embarrassing.” She breathed out a laugh, moving her attention to a stack of books she had to organize.

Cole thought, so singing in front of a crowd is definitely out of the question then. He watched as she rearranged her books on her bookshelf, following her every movement. She had started to talk again, unbeknownst to him. She stepped in front of him, snapping her fingers in his face, “Cole! Cole! Cole!”

He flinched, “What?”

“Pay attention, Cole. I’m trying to help you here.”

He nodded and shook his head of his remaining thoughts, focusing on her, “Okay so… how long have you liked her for?”

He shrugged, “A while, I think. But I think I noticed it about 6 months ago.” 

She nodded, “And you’ve been too afraid to tell her what you want, right?”

He let out a noise in agreement and sat up fully on her bed, “Yeah.”

“Okay, well if you do what I say. You’ll be sure to start dating her in no time.”

“Are you sure?”

“That’s how it works. That’s how you get the girl.” She patted his head and launched herself onto her bed, “What do you want to watch?”

ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु

remind her how it used to be, be yeah, with pictures in frames of kisses on cheeks, cheeks

Cole was unpacking a box his mom had sent to him, things from home that he might’ve wanted in his new apartment. He felt uneasy going back through some of these things, most of them being something related to hockey. When he got to the bottom of the box he saw a few rectangular objects wrapped tightly in bubble wrap.

He pulled them out, moving the box out of his way. He placed them down before unwrapping the first one. He felt the picture frame and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but when he saw which picture it was he smiled. It was from when they were younger, it was their first day of first grade and y/n’s mom made them take a picture. Y/n gave him a joking kiss on the cheek and both y/n and Cole’s mom had captured the moment. He placed it on his nightstand and unwrapped the next one. 

This one was similar to the one before, but this time it was one from his and y/n’s high school graduation. They were both in their caps and gowns still and she was leaning over and kissing his cheek. Cole was holding both of their empty diploma cases. 

Following that one was another one of a similar pose. It had become one of their signature photos. Every year on the first day of school they would do it, but he had only seen a couple of them. Most of them either lived on an old hard drive or were buried deep in photo albums in one of their houses. This one had been when they had just moved into their freshman dorms and they decided to recreate the photo once more. 

He gathered the two frames he just opened and placed one down on the living room table and one in the kitchen. His apartment instantly felt more at home to him. Something to remember his best friend by made him feel more relaxed. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

When she visited for the first time she noticed the pictures immediately, “Where did you get these?”

“My mom sent them to me. I had them in my room back at home.”

She nodded and held the one that he put in the living room in her hands, “We were so little… and cute.”

The two giggled at her comment, “You’re still cute.”

“Thanks, Coley. You are too.”

The two both blushed at each other’s comments before sitting in silence. Y/n smiled sadly when a thought plagued her mind, “I miss how it used to be. Everything was so simple back then.”

Cole nodded, throwing his arm on the back of the couch, “Yeah. We were never apart back then, were we.”

She laid her head on his shoulder, “I miss you, Cole.”

“I miss you two, y/n/n.”

ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु

tell her how you must've lost your mind when you left her all alone and never told her why, why

One week after Cole had left, y/n had fallen into a tiny depression state. They hadn’t gone even a couple of days without seeing each other ever, let alone Facetime each other. Cole had been so busy with flying out to Edmonton making his debut and then having to go to Calgary, before finally being able to settle into his new apartment in Montreal. 

She was nervous for him but she was also nervous for herself. They hadn’t got to say goodbye to each other, she had gotten his text while she was in class that he was leaving. She tried to call him but it went straight to voicemail and she felt defeated. 

On the flip side, Cole had been anxious, not about himself but about y/n. He knew about how she typically handled things when she was alone and most of the time it wasn’t the best thing to happen. When he finally got a chance to breathe and sit in his apartment, he called y/n and she answered on the first ring, “Hi Cole! How’s your apartment? Everything going okay up there?”

He nodded, a smile tugging on his lips when he laid his eyes on her picture on his screen, “Yeah it’s been going okay.”

“Anyone giving you any trouble because I’ll fly up there to beat them up for you.”

He laughed, “I know you would.”

The two went silent for a few minutes, a slight frown gracing y/n’s face, “I’m sorry.”

She tilted her head in confusion, “For what?”

“For leaving you. Especially without warning really.”

Her frown deepened at his words, “It’s not your fault Cole. You were, are, moving on to bigger and better things.”

“But I didn’t want to leave you, y/n/n. I need you to know that. I would’ve stayed for you.”

“I know you would’ve, Cole. But like I said, you’re doing something greater for yourself. I shouldn’t be holding you back from your dreams.”

The words were on the tip of his tongue, but you’re a part of that dream. Yet, he couldn’t get them out. He wasn’t going to be the one to ruin their friendship over something like this, she didn’t deserve it. So he kept his lips shut and listened to her talk about whatever had happened that day, the reason he called, going blank in his mind. 

ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु

and that's how it works that's how you lost the girl’

“I don’t think she’s into me, y/n/n.”

“What do you mean?”

“I tried what you said but she didn’t even bat an eye to it. She completely dismissed me.”

Sure it was weird for Cole to be talking about his girl problems to y/n when she was the girl he was talking about, but it’s not like she would ever know. Cole was thankful at that moment for his friend’s obliviousness, it came in handy sometimes.

“Maybe she did and she just doesn’t know what to think about it, maybe she’s still trying to figure something out.”

Cole signed on the opposite side of the phone, growing a little frustrated at both himself and her. Why couldn’t he just say how he was feeling, if she didn’t like him then fine they could just move on, try and move past this, “But what if she just doesn’t like me.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything Cole, but did you do anything stupid to make her think differently about you? Or think differently about her feelings toward you?”

“I mean, I did kind of leave her without telling her why…”

“You’re telling me you didn’t tell her you were leaving to go play in the NHL? You just got up and left her?”

“Well when you put it like that, it sounds worse.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “You probably broke her heart, Cole.”

Cole let that thought sink in, the thought of leaving y/n there all alone in Madison with little to no friends. Of course, she had other friends but she was always hanging out with him. He repositioned himself on his bed and placed his free hand on his head, rubbing his forehead. He didn’t mean to hurt her.

“Cole?”

“I’m such a fucking idiot. How could I do that to her?”

Y/n felt heartbroken for him, he sounded so upset with himself for his actions. She was also heartbroken by the fact that Cole had these strong feelings for someone else, someone who wasn’t her. She tried to keep her composure by staying silent, letting a tear make its way down her face. She wiped it before talking again, “Cole, it’s okay. There are ways to fix these things. Did you at least apologize to her?”

“Yeah, kind of I think? I totally have lost my mind, haven’t I y/n?”

She just shrugged, “I don’t think you ever had a mind, to be honest, Cole.”

He forced a small laugh, “Gee, thanks.”

“Has she talked to you since then? About what happened?”

“No. She hasn’t brought it up. She said she supported me after I apologized but that’s about it. She sounded sad but also a little angry.”

She stayed silent for a minute, “I hate to be the person to tell you this but I think you lost her.”

Cole ran a hand over his face in frustration, letting her words hit him like a truck. 

ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु

and you could know that I don't want you to go

It was the first Friday without Cole and she was sitting in her dorm room. He had made his debut two days ago and she couldn’t even gather the strength to watch his game. She felt horrible about it, she was his best friend, and she should support him through everything. 

She watched the movie that they were planning on watching that day, 13 going on 30. It was y/n’s week to choose, hence the reason why it was a Rom-Com. Cole didn’t mind, he would watch every cheesy romantic movie with her if she wanted to watch it. 

He had a game that day, but once again, y/n had no desire to watch it. It was just another reminder that he was gone, she could only handle so much. She sat on her bed, the movie playing on the TV with a bucket of popcorn sitting on her right side. 

Of course, she had to pick the movie in which the two main characters of the movie were love interests and were best friends. It was like the universe was mocking her of some sort. She couldn’t escape the facts. Her heart sympathized when Jennifer Garner’s character felt as if she lost her best friend to the girl he was getting married to. She couldn’t imagine life if Cole got married to someone else.

It was like a blow to the face watching it. She had the chance to do something but she still sat in her dorm room doing nothing but stuffing her face full of popcorn. Much like Elle in Legally Blonde, when the final scene of the movie came up and Jennifer Garner and Mark Ruffalo got married she threw her popcorn at the screen in frustration, why couldn’t she have that life?

She looked at her phone to see a text from Cole, saying they lost and he didn’t want to talk tonight. He had taken the loss as a burden to himself, being new on the team and not being able to contribute. She was honestly grateful that he texted her that because if he hadn’t she would then have to come up with an excuse on why she didn’t want to talk. 

She scrolled through pictures of her and Cole in her camera roll, tears welling in her eyes. As much as she wanted Cole to go and pursue his dreams, the thought in the back of her mind was being selfish, she didn’t want Cole to leave her. They had been together for so long and hockey just ripped him away from her. She had been so supportive of him so she thought she at least deserved a little bit of selfishness.

She threw her phone across the room much like she had done with the popcorn. She sat there crying as the credits rolled across the screen before Netflix gave her more recommendations on what to watch based on the movie, but she was in no mood to watch another romance movie. She rolled her eyes, tears still streaming down her face. She backed out of the menu before putting on a random stand-up show.

He could’ve known that she didn’t want him to go because, in reality, he didn’t want to go either. However, y/n’s mind was like Cole’s and she didn’t want to ruin their friendship due to her feelings. It felt stupid and silly. They had a perfect friendship so why should she ruin it because of her feelings? 

ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु

remind me how it used to be and say you want me, yeah, yeah

The clouds covered a majority of the sky, not a star in sight. The moon was visible every few minutes once one cloud passed by before another one came and covered it. When the moon was shining, it shone right into y/n’s dorm room where she sat in her normal state with her blanket wrapped around her watching her and Cole’s favorite movie. 

They had watched it since they were children. Every Friday night Cole and y/n’s families would have one another over for dinner and y/n and Cole would sleep over at each other’s houses depending on where they were that night. They would choose a movie to watch and most likely if they didn’t know, that movie would be the one chosen. 

It had been a month since she last saw Cole. She had flown out to Montreal as soon as she was finished with school, going to his games when she could. She had stayed there for a week or two before going back home for the rest of the summer. It being her first time in Cole’s apartment, she noticed the lack of decorations in it, the only thing really there was pictures of her and him.

She looked around her room and a picture frame caught her eye. Cole was wearing his World Juniors USA jersey, his medal hanging from around his neck. They had just won and Cole was beaming and y/n’s lips were pressed firmly against his cheek. The photo they had been recreating since they were 6. 

She smiled when she saw it and something clicked in her brain. Cole had three of the same picture just at different times in his apartment, and when she saw them she remembered how they used to be, much like now. Continuing to mentally flip through things she had told him, she remembered telling him to make a grand gesture; singing in front of a crowd, standing in the rain-

“Holy shit…”

She jumped out of her bed, the blanket falling from around her shoulders. She couldn’t believe what she was thinking, there was no way that her best friend liked her. I mean she knew that she liked him but Cole Caufield, liking her? It was one of the most unbelievable things that had happened in her lifetime. 

She continued to run through everything and anything that she might’ve told Cole that he could’ve done. Even running through things Cole had done for her that seemed even remotely romantic. He had bought her a book that he knew she was eyeing, he bought her cookies and chips when she didn’t even ask him to. He showed up at all of her games that he could. He apologized for making his NHL debut and leaving her alone at Madison when it wasn’t his fault. 

He bought her multiple gifts for her birthday and Christmas, he dropped everything to make sure that she was okay, he made her food when she was feeling down and felt like she couldn’t do anything, he helped her with her homework and helped her study for exams. He did everything for her and she was just now realizing it. 

She mentally punched herself in the head for not realizing it sooner. He had done so much for her that basically screamed ‘I love you.’ Why did it take her this long to notice? She was frustrated at herself for not doing something about it. She literally gave him the advice to get the girl but she should’ve been following her own advice and picking up on the cues. 

She was quick to book a flight to Montreal and repack her suitcase. She ran out of her bedroom, explaining how much she needed to go see Cole and her mom just gave her a knowing smile before ushering her off with a ‘be careful’ and an ‘I love you.’

ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु

and then you say i want you for worse or for better i would wait for ever and ever broke your heart, i’ll put it back together i would wait for ever and ever

Flying to Montreal wasn’t something she had on her list. But when she had her epiphany she had to see him, she had to get to Cole. 

Of course, it was raining when she arrived. She did her best to shield herself from the water but ultimately failed with how hard it was coming down. To her luck, her Uber had dropped her off a block away from where Cole’s apartment was. Instead of waiting to get a new one she just walked there, her suitcase in toe. 

She arrived at his house, shivering from the rain. She wrapped her coat tightly around her as she knocked on the door to his apartment. It didn’t take long for Cole to open the door, a bright smile on his face when he opened it, “Y/n! What are you doing here?”

“I needed to see you.” 

“Are you fucking insane? Aren’t you supposed to be going on a trip with your family right now?”

“I needed to see you, Cole.”

Cole let her in, stepping aside to create space for her. She stepped in and before she could even think about reaching for her suitcase, Cole grabbed it and moved it in. She was visibly shaking and Cole pulled off his hoodie to give it to her. 

He took her jacket, placed it in the drying, and directed her to the couch.

“So what was so important that you needed to fly to Canada to see me?”

“Remember when you were asking me about that girl?”

Cole nodded his head, looking confusedly at her, “Yeah? What’s this about?”

“And you remember what I said to you when you asked?”

“Yeah you told me to say I want you for worse or for better, I would wait forever and ever. I broke your heart, but I’ll put it back together.”

She only gave him a soft smile and waited to see if the words would click. It didn’t for at least five minutes, causing the two to sit in awkward silence. Cole’s face lit up when he realized what she was trying to say, “Are you serious?”

“If I wasn't, would I be doing exactly what I told you?”

Cole stood up and walked over to her, grabbing her face, his thumbs rubbing gently under her eyes. He let out a soft breath, still smiling, “Can I kiss you?”

“Do you even have to ask?” He kissed her immediately after that, both of them smiling into the kiss. 

If only y/n was as good at following advice as giving it, they would’ve been in this position so much earlier. 

and that's how it worksthat's how you got the girl

𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗖𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗘𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ୨୧

@toasttt11 @chiblackhawks @pucks-goals-penalties @dancerbailey3 @quinnylouhughesx43

© cupidbedsy (sunflower-lilac42) ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

[queer-coffee]

simple words | pt. 1

Part 2 | Part 3 | Read on Ao3

Sanji sparks a light, just as the rising sun sends a beam of light through his tiny kitchen porthole.

Really, he wants to ask Franky if he can do something about that. Sanji’s favorite part of the day, and he can’t properly enjoy it through just a tiny porthole what with croissants that need an egg wash before the dough gets too warm, and bacon cooking alongside a maple glaze that will burn the sugar if it gets too hot, and weighing out the proper mix of five different tea leaves that he knows makes Zoro smile into his cup when he thinks no one is looking, and all the other things that must be done in a precise order, perfectly timed, so that breakfast is ready, but with a welcoming sort of ease fit for first thing in the morning, as his crewmates start to stumble in after a late night to enjoy it.

Not to mention, he needs more airflow in here. Sanji pauses as the sunray reflects off the ceramic of his stovetop to open the porthole. He exhales in its direction and ashes his cigarette after, so nothing disrupts the flavor of this meal.

But Franky worked so hard on this ship, and Sanji knows how much thought was put into every other aspect of his kitchen, his wine cellar, his aquarium with the freshest and most delicious fish he can find, that he can’t bring himself to critique something so trivial.

A crisp gust of wind blows the smoke back in his face, and into his kitchen.

Sanji sighs.

It’s so trivial.

But he can’t get it out of his head, what that stupid moss brain said to him last night.

And he knows it wasn’t personal, or intentional, or even really meant as an insult at all.

In fact, it was one of those rare moments that Sanji loves, when they catch each other in just the right mood, both just drunk enough, both alone.

Their crewmates were all laughing and yelling and drinking in the room over, oblivious to what was happening to Sanji just a stone’s throw away.

Sanji was returning with a few favorite picks from the wine cellar. A red blend for Robin, a sweet orange for Nami, whole milk for Luffy he grabbed from the kitchen, and whatever table wine for the rest, except for a small bottle of the finest sake he could get his hands on at that last island.

And the Sunny hit a swell. And Sanji, normally used to these unexpected changes in his center of gravity from being on a ship his whole stinking life, was too distracted polishing a smudge off the sake bottle to react in time, and lost his balance.

Sanji was ready to go down, unable to break his fall with his arms so full of precious cargo. He held on tight and braced for impact, but that impact never came.

Because the next thing he knew, strong arms were wrapped around him, and his nose was buried in someone’s musky shoulder. He caught his breath, inhaling sharply.

It didn’t take him but a second to place that warm scent, and Sanji’s heart pounded hard. He could feel the sweat on Zoro’s neck from the warm, muggy night, and still smell the sweet rum of that cocktail Usopp spilled on him.

“Hey shit cook, watch where you’re going” Zoro barked, pushing Sanji away from his chest, “You can hold your liquor better than that. How drunk are you?”

Sanji gripped his liquor bottles tighter, realizing that, while he was no longer buried in Zoro’s chest, Zoro still hadn’t let go of his shoulders, his grip fierce.

“Not drunk enough to be getting manhandled by you.” Sanji retorted, enjoying that spark a suggestive comment always put into Zoro’s eye.

But that spark was a little different tonight.

Zoro took a step in. Instead of muttering something insulting back, like the swordsman usually would, he pulled Sanji in closer. “It’s a good thing I don’t like women anyway,” he said.

Sanji’s heart fell.

“Lucky me,” Sanji muttered back. He pushed by Zoro, suddenly resenting all touch.

He took a few pounding steps, but stopped.

Sanji turned around. Zoro was frozen where he left him.

“This is for you,” Sanji said, holding out the bottle of sake. Zoro turned and stared at it, for a moment. Then he took it.

Sanji left before Zoro said anything else.

I don’t like women anyway.

The words replay in his head for the thousandth time that morning, like a knife twisting. He takes a small sip of coffee, a new habit he picked up since his brief stay on Whole Cake Island, and opens the oven door to put the croissants in. A gust of hot air blows his hair back, taking him aback.

He cut it short recently, too short to tie back, and he still isn’t used to having it loose rather than up when cooking.

Nami said she loved short hair like that on girls, while she was cutting it, but that it would make him look like a boy. Sanji didn’t tell her that was kind of the whole point.

It’s hard to tell everyone that he is finally coming to terms with the fact that he isn’t a woman, like they all think. That he’s never been, and it wasn’t until his time with Iva-sama that he finally realized it. That he learned what all those feelings he had meant, and that there were other people like him who also felt those things.

At the time he rejected it so horribly, terrified that he was also like that. He saw how difficult life was for those people, and he didn’t want his life to be any harder than it had been. He worked so hard to press those negative memories back. His childhood. He never wanted anything to be so hard again.

But then he trained alongside them. He talked to them. He cooked for them. And laughed with them. And he learned more about what being queer really was. It was hard, he was right about that, but it was also free. And all he ever wanted was to be free. Free like them.

It would just be hard first.

And he is just finally accepting that. Ever since he nearly lost everything that ever meant anything to him on Whole Cake Island, he is craving that freedom even more now. He thinks it’s finally time to go get it.

It will just be hard first.

Sanji inhales on his cigarette, allowing the nicotine and caffeine to gently wash over him, as he repeats it to himself, still in awe of how good it feels to not only know, but to accept. I am a transgender man.

Sanji exhales out the porthole, and closes the oven gently, letting that good feeling go.

He thinks of Zoro.

And wonders how on earth he’ll tell his friends.

Part 2

[at1nys-blog]

Nap time

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x fem!reader

Summary: it doesn’t seem but Zoro is very, very much considerate

Masterlist

Having a low social battery was not something meant for a pirate, but here you were, on a ship living adventures left and right.

Taking naps around the Thousand Sunny was always a quest itself: the girl’s dorm, even tho it was the best option in reality was the worst. Luffy will barge in full force and you would fall from your hammock; Nami’s studio was very not a nice option. Yes, the woman was silent all the times but Sanji was too loud for you, waking up and making you grumpy for the rest of the day; Chopper’s infirmary? To avoid after a huge battle; the deck? Too much chaos; the garden? Unless you wanted to burn under the sun, go ahead, if not, avoid.

The only place that was a safe place was the crow nest. That part of the ship was avoided from everyone thanks to being Zoro’s place to train and nap. Sanji wouldn’t come unless to inform food was ready; Luffy and Usopp had better stuff to do downstairs, you thought they even forgot about it sometimes; Brook and Franky would be too busy with their things; Jimbe, Nami and Robin knew better to not bother you.

After a hot shower, you were ready to go and relax to your new spot. Your body was aching to lay down and sleep, your muscles so relaxed that you didn’t know how you managed to get on top without falling.

Entering the small room you were happy it wasn’t a complete mess, but again it never was when you wanted to go there. This was something that always puzzled you. Knowing Zoro this was out of his character.

You shrugged it off, too tired to think too much about it.

Checking around you found a pile of towels on the desk and you were so glad about it. Taking one, you covered the pillow and after some seconds you were gone into dreamland.

Zoro knew your current position. He had been searching for you around the Thousand Sunny to ask you something, a stupid question to be honest.

“Ohi moss head, have you asked YN what she would like for dinner?” The swordsman only shook his head no, getting a death glare from the blonde pirate. “You forgot didn’t you? Ah I always have to do things myself” before the cook could leave the kitchen Zoro stopped him by gripping the collar of his white shirt.

“I didn’t forget. She is sleeping in the crow nest” he said with his stoic voice. “And honestly, don’t you know what she likes?” The tone was more teasing this time, exposing a sensitive nerve.

Zoro spent the rest of the day training and avoiding people to bother you: he would help out Nami with folding clothes; helping Chopper reorganize his set of new medicines; threaten Usopp and Luffy every time they tried to climb to the crow nest, all this untill he thought you had rested enough to survive dinner.

He climbed up easily, used to do it on a daily basis. Opening the door he tried to be as gently as possible, to not give you a scare. Even his steps are light, something he never imagined was possible for him, but yet, here he was. Walking on eggshells to not scare you.

“Y/N” it was a whisper even if he didn’t mean to, it just came out like that. “Are you still asleep?” You shifted position, still sleeping, he took it as a yes and was going to leave when he noticed you were going to fell anytime soon.

He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t want to wake you up, but he didn’t want you to fall either. He tried is best to move you closer to the wall, but he kinda failed.

“Is dinner ready?” You asked, half asleep. Zoro thought the world stoped for a second, he hated to feel this way when it was about you. He hated how much he cared for you. He hated… “I hope Sanji remembered to not put veggies in my plate” you said standing up.

The swordsman was just able to keep silent, what was he supposed to say? Was he supposed to tell you he remembered the cook what you liked or didn’t like? The man couldn’t say a word no matter how much he tried to.

“Have you recharged or I have to stop…”

“Is okay, don’t scare Luffy away.” You stoped him and left the room before he could ask you if you were sure. “Let’s go.” You added.

Zoro came back to reality after a while, he was not catching feelings, was he? He cares for you as much as he did for the others. Okay maybe he cared a little bit more il for you but just a tiny bit. Just a bit more, maybe. He shook away the thought, following you down on deck. He was totally making sure Luffy wouldn’t bother you too much, that was a fact.

[chaithetics]

hey I had an idea for a stewy fic! Maybe it’s Roy!reader who gets scared on their wedding day (bc they’re a Roy and are not used to love) and stewy comforts them beforehand? I don’t know if that makes sense haha

Roy-ful Wedding Jitters

Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x Roy Reader

Word count: 2.1K

Author's note: Ah! I'm so, so, so, so, so sorry for how long this was in my inbox. I owe you big time and I'm getting around to the older requests, I really hope you love this and it was worth the note! Not proofread so do enjoy y'all! I think this is ending the biggest gap between fics I've had so I'm sorry, love you all! Also, wear sunscreen!

Chapter/content warning: 18+ MINORS DNI, established relationship, anxiety, not the best self-esteem, Roy childhood dynamics, mild cursing.

****************************

It was a peaceful morning, or it should’ve been, it was a peaceful-looking morning at least. Well peaceful as long as you didn’t look in a mirror and see the fear in your eyes or the growing shake in your hands. The weather was perfect, it was sunny and beautiful but it wasn’t too hot and even though you shouldn’t say it, if somebody forgot to wear sunscreen for a couple of hours, they’d get off burn-free. 

This day had been perfectly chosen, the location, venue, color scheme and of course, the weather to ensure it was the perfect location at the perfect time. Just as everything was when the Roy name was attached and you had a casual perfectionist like Stewy Hosseini as your groom. Your wedding day had been carefully curated as if it were an exhibition at the most pretentious and lauded of museums and galleries. The receipts, emails, and photos could be packaged like Sofia Coppola’s Archive and sold as another overpriced coffee table book that wouldn’t get touched beyond the hands of the wealthy at a ridiculous launch event. 

Despite the sheer perfection of this intimate Italian wedding, you were shaking slightly and there had been a ball of dread growing in your stomach the moment that woke you up. The kind of almost nausea you had that was pre-flying anxiety whenever you had a flight, the one that means you don’t eat the morning of and then feel even more nauseated later because of that. 

You rub your eyes and look at him, sleeping blissfully, completely ignorant of the shitstorm swirling inside of his bride. You’re still feeling anxious. Anxious to be this vulnerable in front of another human being, to be so vulnerable on an intimate level. Love is a weakness, a desire, and you’re declaring in front of everyone and legally that this person, this man holding you right now is your weakness. It’s terrifying. 

You get out of bed and start to pace as you think about how you’re just as cursed as everyone else in your family and all their doomed relationships that were infertile for love and how nobody in the Roy family ever got the memo of what a healthy relationship is. You start to anxiously scratch your neck as you come to the conclusion that just like everything else in your life, this day is doomed. It’s cursed in fact! You can’t help but think. 

Unsure of whether to scream, run away or cry you look around the room. You even think about climbing out of the window of the suite… Why are you thinking this when there’s a door. A goddamn door you could just climb out of! You facepalm yourself and mutter under your breath how stupid you are. These feelings are very real and it’s definitely not a trauma response or form of self-sabotage you think to yourself. 

Stewy wakes up and you hear him whisper that it’s because of your pacing as he looks at you with sleep still in his eyes and his hair handsomely but messily tousled from sleep. It’s only then that you realize that you had been pacing. 

“I need something to drink… juice… fruit juice.” You said as you paced around the room. 

“Fruit juice…?” Stewy asked curiously, he’d only just woken up and he was trying to keep track with the frantic rambling while also calming your nerves. 

“Yeah, fruit juice!” You said it almost defensively and then tried to take a deep breath but the oxygen wouldn’t go all the way down to the pit of your stomach like it should. “Your body absorbs glucose quicker through liquids than solids. ” You added on in a less defensive tone. 

“Um…okay?” Stewy was feeling more confused as he watched you. “Are you going to explain the difference between veins and arteries to me next?” He asked in a curious and gentle tone with a slight inflection of amusement. 

“Maybe my blood sugar’s low.” 

“Low? Your blood sugar? Are you okay?” Stewy’s voice was more concerned now and his face reflected that as his eyes widened and he tilted his head. Stewy quickly poured a drink and handed it to you, you drank it immediately while pacing with your back to him. 

“Maybe today is cursed?” “It’s not cursed, hon-” “But,” you cut him off. “Look at us, we’re sleeping in the same suite, same bed. I woke up as the little spoon Stew. It’s breaking tradition, bad luck, curse-” “That’s like not even a superstition, you’re not wedding superstitious.” He says as he runs a hand through his dark curls. 

“Maybe I should’ve been? This is-” “Honey, it’s a tradition. An outdated one that just doesn’t reflect modern relationships anymore. We live together. Kinda defeats that whole thing, that was when couples didn’t live together, it was arranged marriages and you met at the altar.” “I know.” You whisper, and you do. 

“Fortunately for us, that’s not our situation at all.” He smiles at you and you sigh as you look around, this hasn’t done anything for your anxiety yet though. 

“Did you ever think that-that… that well, anxiety is like a parasite-” You start to say before he cuts you off. 

You’re just taking turns doing it now, he cuts you off to reassure you and then you cut yourself off to catastrophize more. What a morning of the wedding day dynamic you’ll think about in 5 years. “No, I haven’t but-” Stewy sounds mildly flabbergasted but he’s still trying. “And I had this parasite left in me, that they didn’t even know to take out when I was born. An awful little parasite of the parasitic qualities of my parents and it just ate away… fed and grew during every fucking developmental stage Stewy.” “You don’t have a parasite.” He’s being soft and genuine with you as he speaks through all of the worst fears your spitting out at him right now. 

“No, I’ve become the parasite, the poison drips through and it trickled right into feeding and I’m… I’m just like him. I don’t want to be Stew, but I am.” There’s a desperation in your voice but also a resolution. “You’re nothing like your father. Right now, you share his last name and that is it. You are not him and you are not doomed to repeat the cycle.” Stewy says as he looks into your eyes. 

“I’m a parasite and I’m just consumed… I’m going to latch onto you and just ruin you and this is just going to become miserable Stewy. I’m a Roy, it’s just…it’s just how it works. Look at my parents. My dad and his marriages. My dad and every relationship he’s had.” You say as you frantically run your fingers through your hair. 

“Again, you’re not your dad. And you’re not your mother. We’re not your parents or any other weird item they’ve been a part of.” He says as he steps closer to you and tries to gently caress your arms. 

“You get rid of parasites through antiparasitics and antibiotics, not marriage! That’s li-like… that’s like signing away your life for the parasite to chew on!” You spit out nervously. 

“Good thing you’re not a parasite and you can’t marry them. And also for medicine existing.” Stewy says, he puts on a warm smile and his eyes glow as he tries to reassure you. “You’re okay babe, you’re okay. Just talk to me, just some jitters? What’s going on?” 

His voice is so gentle as always and perfect. The way he speaks is just warm and inviting, like a cosy bath you just want to sink into and forget about everything in. His stupidly perfect voice just always had a way of making you melt, whether that was when he was trying to reassure you at your breaking point (right now), flirting with you and even when he was talking Wall St finance bro jargon and rubbish. 

You took a deep breath and looked at him, your eyes were watery. 

“Fuck…Now my eyes are watery and I’m going to get scolded for being puffy when they do make up, Stew.” You wiped your eyes and Stew quickly pulled you into his arms again and you rested your head against his chest as you tried to breathe. 

“Some deep breaths honey, I love you and you love me.” He rubs your back gently in a comforting pattern and you take some deep breaths as you keep your face pressed against his comforting warmth. 

“I do love you.” You whisper against his chest, you’re feeling a bit calmer now and enjoying the circular motions of how he’s gently caressing your back. Your words bring a smile to his face which you don’t see. 

“Uh-huh, that’s why we’re getting married. We love each other lots, and always will. I haven’t seen the dress but I know you’re going to look smoking.” He says sweetly but the playful tone is evident and it makes you smile a little.

There’s still a feeling of terror dwelling inside of you but it’s easing up a bit, you look at him Stewy and you can’t help but be that scary thing, the thing your siblings run from and your father scolds, but vulnerable. 

“What if I fuck it all up? That’s all… That’s all that Roys seems to be able to do.” You say sadly as you look up at him, you love him and it’s all you want to do. 

Stewy gently caresses your face, his soft fingertips dancing across your cheek and he smiles adoringly. 

“Well, it’s a good thing that in a few hours you’ll be a Hosseini.” You both let out a small chuckle at that and your eyes get a little teary at how he knows just how to disarm you perfectly with his big brown eyes, and his sweet and silly humour. “But even if you weren’t,” he adds on tenderly. “It doesn’t mean you’re the people before you, or your siblings. This isn’t bad, this doesn’t make you weak. It’d be such a lonely life if you never let anyone in, honey. Nobody deserves to feel the kind of loneliness you think you deserve because you grew up with that man and never experienced the love you deserved. That wasn’t normal or your fault. You’re worth love, you let me in and I love you. I loved you before you did and I love you even more now, and I’m just going to keep loving you.” His words are earnest and you can’t help but become even more tearier. It’s not from self-doubt or self-hate like it was before. Instead it’s from being so seen and loved by Stewy. Having someone reassure your worries and reactions, confrontations to being loved. Something that’s just so, so, so, so foreign to the Roys. 

You look up at his big beautiful brown eyes and you see that he means every word he’s just said. He’s still hugging you but he caresses your cheek with one hand and you let out a content sigh at that. 

“I’m sorry for… for this… I’m just… I don’t know, scared and-and you know how it gets sometimes. I love you more than anything though Stewy.” You admit as you lift your hand up to sit on his cheek and feel his always perfectly trimmed beard tickle against your palm and fingertips. 

“I know, I know, and I love you.” He says back softly. 

You lean and tilt your head and you two kiss, it starts off soft and you can’t help but deepen it as you once again admit to yourself, the all-consuming love you have for him and the need you have for him. The desire and need that is sparked by his simple existence, his cologne, his beard and how it feels against your face and hands, his voice of warm honey on a cold day. 

His hand is firmly on your waist and he kisses you back, your hand snakes up to caress and run through his hair and you gasp for air against his lips but you don’t dare to pull away. You love him and you’re happy to have him, so happy. You kiss passionately as you know this is the start of the next milestone, the milestone happening today. He genuinely cares about you and you’re loved and you love, you love him. You’re capable of receiving and giving love and as you kiss your groom in your room before the intimate but big-deal ceremony, you know this is right. This is what’s right and you deserve this.

[nightynightghoul]

Pebble has POTS

How Pebble finds out they have POTS and sort of learn to accept it.

This is just a little something I wanted to share, if it does well I may share other ideas. Thank you to @sister-nyx for encouraging me and giving it a read :)

Warnings: Pebble faints, there's talk about medical tests, not much more.

When Pebble was summoned, the rest of the ghouls thought nothing special of it. Yes, they were smaller than the rest, but their summoning had been hard and not as much energy went into it as it did for the past ghouls. They all had seen ghouls of all sizes during their lives back in hell. Many of the smaller ones being doubly as fierce to compensate for their size. No one thought anything could be wrong with them. 

Neither did Pebble. At least not for their first few months topside. They learned what they had to in order to become their new drummer, they were good at it too. Enjoying the feeling of getting lost in the music alongside the rest of their new pack.

Pebble started noticing they weren’t like the rest of the ghouls. Not as strong, not as agile, not as resilient. The first time they felt it was when they were moving instruments around the practice room. They had to clear the floor for the siblings to come in for a deep clean. Ifrit had easily lifted and carried stands, amps, boxes, and instruments. Aether had no trouble helping Zephyr with their Keyboard. Hell, even Dewdrop was helping haul up equipment, and he was smaller than them!

But here they were struggling to catch their breath and feeling their heart in their throat just because they were trying to drag one box across the stage. Emphasis on the word “trying”. By the time Ifrit was done, Pebble was only just getting the damned box to where they were supposed to stack it with the others. The fire ghoul just smiled at them and lifted the box to stack in on the others. 

Pebble could not catch their breath and their vision was spotty. But they just ignored it, muttered a thank you and went back to the den. 

The second time, was stupid if you asked them. It was a very early and cold morning, they just wanted to have a nice hot shower before breakfast. Yes, they took longer than usual. The water felt great, they had to wash their hair, and maybe they wanted some time for themselves. The problem appeared when they stepped out into the colder air of the bathroom. As they were drying off, they started feeling like they ran a marathon. Heart beating quickly, spotty vision, and they couldn’t catch their breath. Nothing new, but it was getting worse. 

A splitting headache started right behind their ears and their vision became tunnelled. Suddenly the effort to just stand was just too much and against their will they crumpled to the floor half conscious, dragging with them several items from the counter that clattered loudly on the floor and on top of them. They spent a few minutes on the floor, floating in that space between. After getting ready, only Aether asked why they took so long. Even years later, they could not tell if they fainted that time or not. 

The third time was when they started to get worried. It was a sunny, warm day, fairly humid too. Most of the ghouls were spending their time outside. Even Zephyr felt well enough to go on a little stroll with Dew. They were sat on the grass with Omega and Alpha. Playful chatter, became playful banter which in a few minutes became playfighting. Pebble wrestled Alpha but was quickly pinned under the bigger ghoul. 

But Pebble wasn’t laughing any more, the heat, the humidity, the exertion and now Alpha on top of them had their vision swimming. Just like before they felt that headache, the tunneled vision and the breathlessness. But this time it all came so quick, they had no time to tell Alpha that they wanted out. With a pathetic whine they breathed out and then everything became black. 

When they next opened their eyes, they were laying on their back. Omega was looking at them alarmed, as if they had grown a second head. Alpha was agitated too, the usually stoic ghoul looked close to tears. Omega insisted on carrying them to the infirmary even as Pebble protested that they were fine and could walk themselves.

While in there, Omega took his sweet time noting their blood pressure and heartbeat. Pebble insisted time and time again that this was normal, that it just had gone a little further than it usually does. Omega made quite a few notes and kept asking more questions. As if every ghoul didn’t feel the same as them. -

Do you have a hard time breathing?

Do you usually struggle to catch your breath after exerting yourself?

Are high temperatures usually a problem?

Do you get dizzy when you sit up? When you stand up?

Pebble quickly became frustrated and ended up leaving the infirmary before Omega could finish his long list of questions or tell them much of anything really.

The quint did ask them to come back for some tests the next day but Pebble in their eternal stubbornness didn’t go. They were fine, and this was normal for all ghouls. Right?

The subject was forgotten with time but right now, this very minute. They kinda wish they had gone for those extra tests with Omega. Maybe there was something wrong with them.

This was their third ritual, the past two had gone very well. Only getting somewhat dizzy with the heat of the stage lights and the effort of playing the drums. They had managed to stand up without fainting by taking deep breaths. But right now, in this damned venue and its non-existent ventilation, Pebble found themselves sweating bullets. Their skin felt clammy and cold, their breath getting quicker, same as their heartbeat. 

This was more than the adrenaline from rituals, Pebble was in trouble. 

By the last song of the set, their vision was becoming spotty, but they did their best to keep playing. If Dewdrop, Aether and Ifrit could jump around the stage and play at the same time, surely they could keep playing while sat down. 

The alarm bells really rang in their head when that last song ended. The crowd was cheering, and they cursed the damn mask for not letting them breathe properly. They had to stand up, go to the front with the others, go to their place for final bows. But just as they stood up, they realised just how bad they had let it become. The headache came in so hard they had to close their eyes and grasp their head. They may have been glamoured, but the loud whine they let out sounded like that of a wounded animal. 

They tried to walk down the steps of their stage, but their vision went all black and unlike that time after that hot shower, this time they crumpled to the floor like a wet napkin. Aether looked back at his stage as he saw several people in the crowd pointing behind him.

He saw Pebble, unconscious, sliding down the steps of their stage. He ran to catch the smaller ghoul before they could reach the bottom. Ifrit and Dew turned to look at Aether, confused as to why he would be heading backstage in a rush before final bows. Then rushed to help him as they saw him removing Pebble’s mask.

Papa grumbled his disapproval to Zephyr, but quickly changed his demeanour as Ifrit ran back to him. - Pebble is out cold, Aether is taking them back to the greenroom -. They bowed and quickly headed back.

When he opened the door to the green room, Papa found Pebble laying on the couch, Dewdrop holding their legs high and Aether sat on the floor taking vitals. The quint assured them all that Pebble would be fine, even if they had some nasty bruises from their fall. 

When Pebble woke up, they groaned and tried to sit up. But with a gentle hand on their chest, Aether kept them on their back. 

Don’t move just yet love. Your heartbeat just went through the roof.

M’fine

No, you’re not. You just passed out on stage, and I need to get Omega on the phone now.

Terzo fumbled with his robe to take his phone out and call the older ghoul. Pacing around the room while waiting for his lover to answer.

Terzo? 

Hi Amore, Aether needs to talk to you. Now.

Wait, aren’t you in the middle of a ritual right now?

No, just finished. But Pebble fainted.

What? Ok, let me talk to Aether please.

He handed his phone to the quint. Sitting by Pebble’s head, petting their head and around their horns. Hoping to comfort one of his smallest ghouls.

Aether immediately got to work, narrating all the important details to Omega. All Terzo could glean from what was said was that this was not the first time Pebble had fainted, and that more tests were needed to have an answer as to why they were passing out. 

The rest of that leg of the tour went surprisingly well. Pebble didn't faint, although there were a few close calls, but much to Pebble’s annoyance, Aether was on top of them, all the time. Just as they got back to the abbey, Omega practically kidnapped them and got them to the infirmary. 

A full week of tests got them their answer. There was something wrong and other ghouls definitely did not feel like this every day of their lives topside. Postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome. Stupid Human thing to have. 

They walked back to their room after Omega was done with indications. There was nothing that could be done to get rid of the problem. They would always be smaller, lesser, defective. The feeling of being lesser invaded them. They’re supposed to be a demon straight from hell, strong, fast, agile. Not a runt that has to be watched over all the time. 

What made it truly worse was the news they were given before the next leg of the tour. They would be summoning another Earth ghoul, Omega and Terzo had decided touring would be too much on their body. Straight up salt in the wound. No only that, they would be training them in the time remaining.

Their out of control heart rate and quick breaths didn’t help at all when they asked for the decision to be reconsidered. Pebble walked back to their room, to calm down on their own, to mope for weeks and isolate from their pack. 

With time, they learn to live with it instead of against it. Accepting their body just as it was, flaws and all. It doesn’t come quick, and they still miss the little time they had with their Papa on stage. 

But yes, with time, the bitterness subsides. They still get frustrated sometimes, and some days are impossible. They still faint all over the abbey, but they’re fine at least.

[pattypanini]

Lay All Your Love On Me

Chapter 4- Drunk Words, Are Sober Thoughts

Josh Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 6,384 

AN: Hi everyone! Here is the fourth chapter of Lay All Your Love On Me from me and @mar-rein12! Thank you so much for all the support on our last three chapters. Here is the taglist incase anyone wants to be added to it: TAGLIST. We hope you enjoy chapter 4, Drunk Words, Are Sober Thoughts.

Also get ready for smut because it doesn't end from here, only gets worse. LOL

Next chapter coming next Tuesday!

Warnings: 18+, SMUTTTTT, 69, Tit fondling, Fingering, Oral (F and M receiving), Angst, Flirting, Cursing, Hickeys, Nudes, Sexting.

y/n's POV

Your last class of the day, Music History, went by pretty fast. Coming to the University of Michigan, you were set on Musical theater being your major, but from listening to Charlotte talk about her major, elementary education, you fell in love with the idea of being a teacher. From there, you observed some music classrooms in your area and knew you had to make a change. You're now a Music Education Major and can’t wait to teach the youth all about your passion.

It's very sunny and warm today, which normally would have led to you picking out a tank top and shorts, but due to the marks all over your chest you opted for a black shirt with a higher neckline and black shorts paired together with your white Hokas. Although the sun felt good on your skin it wasn’t good for your hangover. 

Normally a loud upbeat song would be the way to go for after class, but due to the way you’ve been feeling, Groupie Love by Lana Del Rey was the smarter option. You were perfectly content in the moment but your music was suddenly brought to a halt as you felt your headphones being pulled down around your neck.. 

As you turn to see who it is, you meet the last person you’d want to see, Josh. But something was off, he seemed cocky.

“Hey mama, have a good time last night?”

What is he going on about?

“What?” You ask annoyed.

“Well you seemed to be having a loose night. I have a question, am I always on your mind or were those texts also ‘not meant for me’?”

What. What is he talking about? Your mouth opens to defend yourself, “ I- um, I don't… know what you’re talking about.”

“I’ll see you in there” leaning into your ear, “little cum slut.” He winks and slaps your ass making you jump. He starts walking away into the building.

Immediately, your hand goes to your pocket, opening your messages. Holy shit.

11:14pm y/n: God Josh, I can’t stop thinking about you 

11:30pm y/n: I hsd a dream about you, it was so hot.

11:31pm y/n: Fucking me from bwhind, you were calling me a cum slut. I wanna be your cum slut, Josh. 

11:54pm y/n: You shoudl come over.

11:55pm y/n: You're probably sleeping like a loser, come over Joshy.

 No way. There is actually no way. 

You begin to make your way towards the bench outside the building and reread the texts.

You could throw up. You did not recall sending a single one of those text messages. The first text, whatever, but the others… now he has the high ground on you. You can’t go to this practice. He probably thinks you’re a fucking idiot. 

You would never care if you sent a drunk text to anyone else, but he’s different. How stupid could I be? 

No, you couldn’t let that douchebag win. You pick up your bag and your head, making your way into the building. 

You push past the doors, walking with a purpose. Once you get to the room you walk through the doors to see Josh staring at the doorway, as if he was waiting for you to walk in. As you make eye contact your eyes go to him, then to the raven haired girl, next to him. 

Wait, why is he talking to her. Josh would never be caught dead talking to “extras,” he's too good for that. So why is she an exception? 

JOSH’S POV

God will she ever stop talking. Sophia has nothing of worth to say to you. Normally, you wouldn’t talk to other people on the cast, they're not on your level. She's hot, not your normal type, but you’d do it at least once. 

y/n is putting on the act that she's chill, but nothing she’d say or do could convince you after seeing her reaction to the text she sent. You felt kinda bad, but it’s probably something she does a lot. 

“Alright everyone!” You hear Coleman scream obnoxiously. “y/n, Josh, I assume you guys worked something out?” 

You look at y/n and she's nodding with a big smile on her face, what is she so giddy for?

As everyone clears the stage you and y/n meet in the middle of it. “Okay so since you guys worked things out lets go from the Lay All Your Love On Me scene, got it? Not the speaking, straight to the singing.”

You look at y/n and once again she's smiling ear to ear. 

She has a pretty smile. It lights up the room, whether it's fake or not. 

You try your best to tune out your thoughts. You climb up your fake rock wall and the music begins and you count yourself in to start singing.

As you make your way down the steps y/n is looking at you with a certain type of eyes. 

Not of innocence, but of lust.

“Now everything is new. And all I’ve learned has overturned, I beg of youuuuu.” You sing, leaning in close to her, lips less than an inch apart.

She pushes you and your body slams hard against the wall behind you. You sensed real anger behind that one.

“Don’t go wasting your emotionnn, Lay all your love on meee.” She sings as her hands drag softly down your body, her nose touching yours.

Her vanilla perfume smells so good, it's intoxicating. 

As the scene goes on, she continues to mesmerize you. She begins kneeling to the ground, you mirror her. 

She crawls to you, her back arched, hips swaying side to side. Usually she’d wear a lower cut shirt, but assuming because of the hickeys, she wore something a little higher neck. You wish she had worn a v-neck. Her tits are perfect. 

“A grown-up woman should never fall so easily.”

She finally meets with you, leaving no room for innocence.

“I feel a kind of fear.” Her eyes fasten to yours. 

Her hands start at your chest once again, something she would have never done before. With every inch they trailed down, you expected her to stop, but she never did.

“When I don’t have you near.”

They make it to your waistband.

“Unsatisfied, I skip my pride.”

And caresses your already hard dick, leaving it for a moment.

“I beg you dearrr.”

You can’t hold back. Your hands go to her neck and push the hair off her shoulders and inch your mouth closer to her mouth, edging her as you both kneel in front of each other. 

You begin to sing. “Don’t go wasting your emotion.” You place one hand on her back, lifting her torso up into you, and press her into your chest, brushing her tits into you as you gently lay her to the ground. 

Leaving little space, you press down, pushing your dick onto her pelvis. You watch as her eyes widen a tad and a slight chuckle travels past your lips. 

“Lay all your love on meeee.” Your head bows down, closer to her ear as the extras begin to come in from the side stage.

Normally you’d go in for the kiss but you had something else up your sleeve. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard. I know you want me, you cum slut.” You quietly whisper in her ear.

The guys begin to grab you up off her and Coleman shouts. 

“STOP STOP!”

Everyone stops in fear, placing you back onto the floor, not knowing why she was so amped up.

“Holy shit, GUYS, that was PERFECT! The tension, the love, whatever you're doing keep it up.”

You lend y/n a hand to get her off the floor. As you pull her up, you continue to pull her in close, her ear meeting your lips. 

“I guess we have to keep practicing then.” You smirk at her, anxiously awaiting her response. 

“Then I guess I’ll see you tonight at your place?” She says with a wink. 

How can she be so confident after all that happened? It made her 100x sexier. But you knew you were going to have to walk the walk after talking so much game. You were going to rock her world tonight. 

As practice went on the room got hotter and hotter, and you could tell it was getting to y/n, along with everyone else practicing. She was getting uncomfortable in the shirt she was wearing, sweat beginning to form on her forehead. Next thing you know, she was pulling her shirt away from her body to try and let some air pass through, as she was getting more and more antsy. 

You turn away to grab your water, from being out of breath from the last scene, and as you turn back around you're met with a sight. y/n had taken her shirt off leaving her in nothing but her sports bra, her hickeys on full display. You could see Lindsey’s eyes widen and jaw drop. You begin to walk up to them, wanting to hear a piece of how y/n was going to defend herself. 

“Holy shit y/n, did you get attacked or something?” Lindsey asks sarcastically. 

y/n giggled, “No Lindsey I didn’t, just had a good weekend…”

“Did you now?” You begin to ask. “And who's the man of the week?”

“Doesn’t matter, it wasn’t all that exciting.” She looks at you with a smirk as she takes a sip of her water.

“What did you guys do?” Lindsey prods for more.

“Well, not all that much. We watched a movie and then he was getting touchy, which I didn’t mind. Then I straddled him and we made out and he was about to go down on me but someone walked in on us.”

“WHAT, that’s crazy! You have such an exciting life.” 

You roll your eyes at the statement. “Are you going to see him again?” You question her, as if you don’t already know who ‘mystery man’ is.

“I might Josh, but I hope he brings more to the table this time, or else I’m gonna have to call up my regular hookup.”

Your eyebrows raise, “You’ll have to keep us updated then, I guess.” You shoot her a devious smile, you watch as her cheeks reddened a tad. 

“Oh I will.” y/n says to you. 

Lindsey is staring at the both of you now, looking confused. “Am I missing something?”

“No Lindsey, Josh is just a nosy piece of shit.” She leans in to whisper to her. “Plus he probably gets no action so he likes to listen in on what happens in the bedroom.” Making sure you were still able to hear. 

Everyone disperses and we run a couple more scenes, before Coleman dismisses us. 

You look to find y/n packing up her stuff. When you spot her in the corner putting her shirt back on, you walk over to her with your bag. 

“Hey.” You ask innocently. 

“Hi Josh.” She waits for you to leave. “Do you need something?”

“Well I was going to see if I could walk you back to your dorm? It doesn’t make up for not walking you back the other night obviously. I feel bad though, sooo, can I?” You give her a dorky, little smile.

She smiles at you and thinks about it as you two make it towards the doors, opening it for her as she walks through. “Okay fine, but I have to stop at the campus store first to grab a celsius. I don’t want to be a drag tonight.” You look at her and smile. She looks back with a scared look. “Wait, do you not want me to come over? I thought you were being for real but if you're not I can just…”

“y/n, stop. I want you to come over. Calm down.” You pull out your sunglasses, the sun burning your eyes and skin, but you look over to y/n to see her uncomfortably squinting and covering her eyes with her hands. 

“You want these?” Handing her your sunglasses.

“No I’ll be okay, it's the consequences of my own drunken actions.” Realizing what she brought up she goes silent. 

“You know I didn’t mind those texts you sent.” You say opening the doors to the campus store.

“I’m sure you didn’t mind, but I’m the one who sent them.” She says as she makes her way back to the refrigerated section. 

“Were they true?” 

“Well yeah, I don’t think even drunk me would make up something as crazy as that.” She reaches in and grabs a kiwi guava celsius and makes her way up to the register.

“Is that your favorite flavor?” You ask her as you begin to reach into your pockets. 

“Oh for sure. I had a big 24 pack in my dorm but I kinda went through that already since the beginning of the semester.”

You thought about it, “It’s only been a little over a month.” She nods cutely and puts her celsius on the counter. 

“Just the celsius please.” 

“That’ll be $2.39.” She places her backpack on the floor to grab her wallet out, but before she could stand up you quickly tapped your card to the reader. You grab the celsius and look at her as she stands there confused.

“Okay let's go.” You smile at her and she awkwardly puts her bag back on and heads towards the door.

“You didn’t have to do that Josh.”

“I know, but I wanted to.” You open it and hand it to her.

She takes a sip and hands it back to you, “You wanna try it?” You look for a moment and think. “You can’t make the excuse that you're a germaphobe, you had your tongue down my throat.” 

You take it and take a small sip and a shock of flavors and bubbles wash over your tongue. 

“Ew, what the fuck. You drink this shit everyday?”

“WHAT, I love it. How can you not?” She grabs it back and takes another sip. Beginning to walk down the path to her dorm building.

“Do they hurt?”

“Does what hurt?” You take a look down to her chest, to where the hickeys would be if they weren’t covered. 

“Oh phh, no.” She laughs. “Not as nearly as bad as other times before, this one time this guy Mark he left um… um never mind.” She awkwardly laughs and looks down to the sidewalk. 

As she makes her way up the steps and swipes her card into the building she turns to you. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring him up. And I’ve been thinking about it and I respect what we have going on here, with practicing and well…a little more than that. So I'm not going to be talking and getting with other guys while this progresses. I want this to be like the real deal for the show, so I want to put in the effort for it.” 

She stands there for a moment, waiting for you to respond. “Okay, deal. I won’t be getting with anyone either.” She smiles at you holding the door open to the building. 

“Okay, cool. Um well I’ll see you tonight.” She smiles letting the door close behind her. 

She’s all yours. Well until the show is over. Which leaves you a month to make it happen for real. 

y/n’s POV

You walk into the living room, drop your bag onto the floor, and make your way into the bathroom. Your head had been pounding all day and you wanted to feel the best you could for tonight with Josh. 

You waltz over to the cabinet and rummage through the drawers for the ibuprofen. After swallowing them down with the sink water, you look up to yourself in the mirror. Jeez. You look like a mess. You have to get yourself ready before you head over to Josh’s. 

As you strip off your sweaty garments you look into the mirror and notice the soft purple marks scattered across your skin. You were kind of sad they were starting to fade, you liked being marked by him.

But you were happy that you were both able to reach a civil agreement, you weren’t best friends by any means, but you were kind of excited that you were each other's until the show was over. You liked the level of commitment you both had for each other.

You enter into the shower and put a lot of thought into everything you were doing. Making sure you got a good clean shave, shampooing your hair really well, and making sure your body was clean in preparation for tonight. 

As you get out of the shower, you dry yourself off and slip into your soft robe. And notice a text 

Josh 7:45pm: Come over around 9, don’t eat anything.

Hmm, you wonder what he has planned. You heart the text and begin to towel dry your hair and wonder what hairstyle you should do for tonight. You think about different times you've worn your hair a certain way and remember Josh giving you a little extra when your hair was down. 

You get out your blow out brush and plug it in and start sectioning your hair into pieces. You begin styling your hair and after about thirty minutes you finish. You really like the way it looks when you blow it out but sometimes you just don’t have the effort. You lotion up your body and then walk into your room and begin to pick out an outfit. 

While the shorts were great for last time, you wanted him to have to make more of a move this time. So you opt for a pair of navy blue leggings and a tight black athletic t-shirt, this time, opting for no bra on purpose. You take a seat at your vanity and begin with a dewy base, cream blush, black mascara, and lip gloss.

You make sure your gold necklace with your initial, that you never take off, is centered on your neck. Pairing it with your normal stack of earrings and apple watch. Finishing off with your spray deodorant and douse yourself in your coconut vanilla perfume. 

You check the time and it was 8:38. Which gives you plenty of time to get your things together and say bye to Charlotte. You walk to the kitchen and fill up your hot pink Stanley with ice and water and chug the rest of the Celsius from earlier. You quickly brush your teeth so you're all fresh and then make your way into the living room to grab your belt bag and say bye to Charlotte. 

“Are you going out y/n?” Charlotte asks while deep into her HayDay game play. 

“I am, I’m going to Josh’s again.” You look into the mirror to check your hair and makeup, fixing the lipgloss on your lips. 

“Again? Are you guys a thing or something?”

“It’s complicated.” You grimace at her.

“What! Complicated? With the same Josh Kiszka that you hated deeply a few months ago?” She raises her eyebrow at you, with a slight smirk on her face.

You shake your head and laugh. “Whatever, plus we both kinda agreed on being committed to each other, just for the role, until this is all over. Which I don’t mind.”

Charlotte smiles at you, “Okayyy, well you two have fun tonight.”

You smile back at her and blow a sweet kiss to her and pull your bag over your shoulders and grab your water bottle and head out the door.

“USE PROTECTION!” You hear from the crack of the door.

“Sure…” you mutter under your breath, closing the door, making sure it is locked behind you. 

y/n 8:58pm: omw

As you make your way to his apartment you reapply your lip gloss and fluff your hair to give it a lot of volume. 

It was a little chillier that night than you had expected, so the no bra decision was starting to seem like the wrong decision. As you begin to walk up the stairs to his apartment you try to warm up your body before you would have to knock on the door. 

Once you finally get to the door, you look down to see that warming yourself up didn’t help very much with hiding your hardened nipples. You knock on the door and wait for Josh to answer but hear shouting from behind the door. After a few seconds of waiting you’re met with Jake again at the door. Were they fighting for who was going to get the door? 

“Hey y/n”, you watch as Jake’s eyes flick down to your chest. You get a sudden surge of self consciousness and cross your arms over yourself.

“Hi Jake”, you shoot him a tight smile, slipping past him through the doorway. Your nipples graze over his chest as you walk by him. He smirks to you and looks down to your tits, obviously feeling them when you walked by.

“You know, once this whole ‘thing’ you guys have is over, I'm here waiting for you.” Quickly exiting out the door before anything else can be said. Leaving you left with Josh standing in the hallway. 

“What was he saying, y/n?” 

You thought about saying the truth but didn’t want to ruin the night. “Nothing just joking about being ‘safe’ tonight you know.” 

“Right… well, I have something in the living room for us.” Josh smiles to himself. He swiftly grabs your hand, leading you into the living room. Upon entering the room, you see two white bags sitting on the coffee table. “I got you a bagel from that little shop on main. I know you mentioned the everything bagel with lox so I got that, I hope it's okay.” You smile ear to ear and look at him and notice his cheeks blushing. 

You can’t help but hug him. He wasn’t the tallest person, but it was a nice difference for your 5 foot stature. 

“This is so sweet Josh, you didn’t have to do that.” 

“I know but we did really well today and I thought it was deserved. So what do you wanna do?”

“Do you wanna watch a show, have you ever seen Community?”

“No, as long as it's not a stupid ass show we can watch it.”

“Yay, I think you’ll like it. Could you plug my phone in somewhere, I think it's gonna die.”

He takes and brings it back to his room and comes back out to meet you in the living room.

As you take the seat that you were in not too long ago, Josh hands you your bagel. It looked so yummy, considering how hungry you were. He brings up Community on Netflix and starts the first episode letting it play while you guys eat your bagels. Throughout, he laughed a few times at the raunchy jokes made by the characters. You begin to feel far from him and want to make a move. You begin to nestle yourself in between his legs, leaning your back into his chest. As time went on he wrapped his arms around your torso, resting them on your stomach. By the 6th episode you were very comfortable, it felt like you had melted into each other. 

He began to release your arms that were tangled with his, one making its way down to your legs and the other wrapping around your tits. Your head tilts back to look at him, resting on his shoulder.

“What do you think you're doing, Joshy?”

“I’m just trying to make you feel good mama.” As he says that you feel a hand begin to pass under the waistband of your leggings. “Is this okay?” You nod frantically wanting it so incredibly bad. “Speak to me y/n, use your words.”

“Yes Josh.” You grab his hand moving it faster to your heat, slipping it past your underwear. 

“Patience y/n, you’ll get what you want. I’m gonna make you feel so good baby, you won't even remember the others.” As soon as he was done talking, his fingers started making fast circles around your clit and his left hand going under your shirt, squeezing your left tit. 

You started moaning uncontrollably. You wish you could have held it in, but he knew the spots to get you going. “Talk to me, Josh, Talk me through it.” His fingers teased your entrance, before they were forcefully plunged into you.

“Fuck, baby. You’re such a fucking slut. You feel so nice and wet around my fingers. Who’s got you this wet baby, huh? Tell me.” 

“You Josh, fuck, I’m all yours. Your fingers feel so good in my pussy. Are you gonna make me cum?” Your hands reach behind you and grip onto his hair for leverage. 

For a moment he stops, before lifting you up and carrying you to his bedroom. When you get there you’re gently laid down on your back on this navy blue comforter. He begins to peel the leggings off your legs and discard of your shirt, leaving you in only your black, lacy thong. You felt exposed, but Josh made you feel safe. 

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He begins to leave a trail of kisses down your body, making sure to kiss over the purple marks he made before, and leaving new ones down by your underwear before pulling those off too. 

“Look at that pretty pink pussy. All for me.” He says while letting his finger pass through your slick, examining how wet you are, before bringing it up to his mouth and tasting you. “God, I've been thinking about how you taste after our little interruption last time.” Without further warning he goes down in between your legs licking up your slit, getting a good taste. 

“Fuck Josh, please just do it. Eat me the fuck out.” You beg him.

“Patience sweetheart. You’ll get what you want.” He fuels your fire. 

He leaves more kisses and hickeys in between your legs, basically making contact with anything but your pussy. After a while of teasing you couldn’t take it any more. 

“Please Josh, I need you. Tongue fuck me. I need you so bad Josh.” You’re sick of his games, you are desperate at this point. 

“Are you always like this? A fucking slutty brat. Such a dirty little girl.” 

His face dives back down in between your thighs, immediately creating circles on your clit, causing your hand to go straight down to his hair. “FUCK Josh, don’t stop. Just like that.”

As he continues going down on you, your back arches, pushing his head in further. 

It was all so good, you were so close, it was all perfect. 

RING RING RING 

Your head shoot’s up along with Josh’s. It’s your phone. Oh fuck. Josh goes to grab it and it was the last person you could have wanted to call you. Mark. Fuck. 

“Um, just ignore it Josh, I don't know why he's…”

Before you can say more Josh answers. “Hello?” 

“Hi, who is this, I’m looking for y/n.”

“She's a little busy right now, isn't that right baby?” He says before placing the phone onto your chest and looking deep into your eyes beginning to press his fingers back into you. 

“Hi Mark, um yeah I’m a little, FUCK.” Josh curled his fingers hard and fast right into your g-spot. “Um, I can’t talk right now.”

Josh picks the phone back up, not missing a beat on your g-spot. “Yeahhhh sorry about that.”

“Okay um I’ll call back later I guess?” He asks, confused, you’re usually never busy.

“No you won’t.” He hangs up the phone and throws it to the ground.

He brings his full attention back to you. “Just so you know, you're mine. Only mine, not Marks, or whoever else you have in your phone, mine. Got it slut, tell me who you are.”

“I’m yours Josh only yours, I’m a slut for you.” He smiles, beginning to pick up the pace. He leans down kissing you passionately. You were so close to orgasm but you didn’t want to do it like this. 

“I’m so close Joshy, but this isn't how I wanna cum.” He stops, very confused on why you were making him stop. You begin to lift yourself off the bed and switch your positions letting him sit on the bed, and bring yourself in between his legs. 

“Take these off Josh, let me see what I’ve caused.” You lightly tug on the waistband of his shorts.

Josh stands up, pushing down the sweatshorts he had on from earlier. Releasing his cock, letting it slap against his abs. It was much different than it looked in the pictures. You spit into your hand and begin to pump up and down on him, just barely able to get your hand all the way around. You rub your thumb around his tip a few times, eliciting a moan from him. 

You could tell he wanted you to suck him off, but didn’t want to push you down. You looked up to him, “You want me to suck your dick Josh, gag on it while it's in my throat?”

“Fuck yes, y/n, please I need you.”

“Beg for it Josh, the same way you made me.” You whisper seductively into his ear, earning a shudder from him. 

“Please baby, I need you so bad, I wanna feel your mouth around my cock. You’ll feel so good, then I can make you feel so good, please mama. I fucking need it”.” 

With that you took as much of him into your mouth as you could, still having your hands wrapped around it pumping up and down, synchronized with your mouth. 

It was like an automatic response for his hands to go to your hair, yanking at the nice blowout you had, wrecking it with no remorse. But you didn’t mind, you wanted to make him feel good and to always remember how you made him feel.

You were starting to gag on his dick, but you weren’t gonna back down that easily. The watery feeling you knew all too well started in your eyes. Tears began trickling down your flushed cheeks, undoubtedly taking your mascara along with them. 

“You’re a mess, baby. I fucking love it. Such a dirty whore for me.” 

You took him out of your mouth for a moment, trying to get a little air, continuing to pump him with your hand. He looks down to you, wiping a tear from your face. “You’re so fucking sexy, y/n.” 

“Get up.” You say forcefully.

“What?” He shoots you a confused look, brows furrowing. 

“I said get up. Lay in the middle of the bed.”

Without any further questioning Josh moved back so he was at the center of the bed. You begin to climb on top of him and turn so your pussy was hovering above his face. 

“Are you gonna finish the job Josh?” Before you could respond he pulled you down onto his face, leaving little to no room for air. It was time for you to finish the job for him, as well. 

You leaned down taking him into your mouth again, knowing it can’t be too long until he's gonna cum. The feeling beneath you though was becoming a distraction for what you had to do. You were moaning onto his cock, which led to vibrations that you knew would make him moan back. It was becoming a match of who would cum first. Both of you were so close to finishing, you were beginning to meet your climax. 

“I’m gonna cum y/n, move your mouth.”

Does he not know who you are?

“y/n, move your fucking mouth,” he repeats.

You bob your head faster and faster before you feel warm fluid hit the back of your throat. 

“Oh fuck baby, you’re so fucking hot sucking up my cum.” He wasn’t going to waste anymore time. You sucked up the rest of him before swallowing it. You lifted your body up, bracing yourself on the bed beneath you. Josh’s tongue began to pick up the pace, his hands digging into your hips, and you were really feeling it. 

“FUCK, Im gonna cum Josh don’t stop please.”

Within seconds you felt a wash of pleasure all over your body, riding out the high on his face. 

You pull yourself off him and lay beside him. He’s  silent for a moment before turning and looking at you.

“You’re a fucking slut you know that? God damn.” His hand trails gently along your thigh.

You smile thinking about, “Yeah I know, this slut made you cum though, hard.”

He rolls over kissing you hard, threading his hand through your hair.

“Do you wanna, uh, stay the night?”

You thought about it. Your first class wasn’t until 12 anyways. Plus you could always go back to your room beforehand. 

“I mean if you really want me to. I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

“I do, I really do. You’re not intruding at all. Plus, I wouldn’t want you to have to walk back after all of that.”

You smile before getting up to look at yourself in the mirror in his room. Holy shit. You looked like a mess. Your hair was absolutely destroyed, knotted and messy. Makeup was smeared all over your face and mascara was trailed all down your cheeks. Your skin is bruised with fresh hickeys. You were a nightmare. Mirror mirror on the wall who’s the sluttiest of them all. You. Definitely you.

“How could you look at me, I look insane Josh.” You begin to walk back over to the bed.

“What are you talking about, you look so fucking hot. I thought I mentioned that many times.” You both laughed before he got up. 

“Do you need something to sleep in?”

“Yeah that would be good, do you just have a shirt and shorts, or even boxers? I don't really care.

He nods before picking out some blue gingham boxers and an oversized Michigan t-shirt. You slip them over your body and make your way to the bathroom before freshening up. 

You quickly wash your face off with some warm water and try to brush down your hair as much as possible. When you come back out and make your way back into his room he isn’t there. 

“I'm in the kitchen y/n.” You turn your head and walk down the hallway and to the right into the very small kitchen where Josh got two glasses of water, handing one to you. 

“You know with how well you did tonight I would have thought you were a whore yourself, or is that something you like to keep to yourself?” You look down to check your watch. 11:48, not too late but you were definitely getting sleepy after all of that.

He laughs making his way back to the living room sitting down long ways on the couch, where he once was. Not knowing where he wanted you to sit, you took the safe choice and sat down next to his feet.

“I mean I’ve had my fair share, but nothing crazy.” You take a sip of his water before placing it on the end table and grabbing the remote to click “Continue Playing” on the TV. He turned around and grabbed the blanket that was across the back of the couch. 

“Are you scared of me or something, after all of that? If anything I should be scared of you.” You laughed and laid your head in his chest. He flung the blanket up so it was on top of both of you.

“What time do you have to be up tomorrow?” You asked. 

“Well I have a class at 11 so I have an alarm set for 10.”

“Okay, I’ll just wake up when you do so I can go back to my room and get ready for class. I’ll be right back. I'm just gonna text my roommate that I won’t be back.” 

He nods, picking up the blanket to let you go pass. You quickly scurry back to his room and just let Charlotte know that you’d be back tomorrow morning to walk with her to your class that you have together. 

As you leave the hallways you’re met in the middle with someone you hadn’t seen all night, Jake. You didn’t even hear the door open. 

He looks at you, noticing the shirt you had on, making his eyebrows go up. You begin to go around him before you are stopped. “You could do better, I’ll be here when you're ready for the treatment you deserve.” He whispers. You stare at him for a moment before making your way back into the living room. 

Josh is laughing at whatever just happened on the show and he happily lifts the blanket for you to get back under. 

“You could do better, I’ll be here when you're ready for the treatment you deserve.”

What is up with these Kiszka men? You brush off what Jake had said to you, remembering that as if now you’re Josh’s. As you watch the show you begin to doze off. Your eyes closed and had to force them to stay open, and Josh playing with your hair was making it harder. You decided that it was definitely time to just call it quits and sleep. You lift your head to Josh who was intently watching the screen. How is he not tired? 

“Goodnight Josh, thank you for tonight.” You press a kiss onto his lips. You could feel a smile forming beneath yours. 

“Night y/n, I’m glad you had a good night. Sleep well mama.” Pressing one final kiss into your head. 

With that you were out like a light, sleeping the best you had in a while. Dreaming about the night you had and the future that will come.

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Taglist:

@demonrat444 @gvfstuddedmajesty @jordie-gvf @jazzyfigz @slut4lando @gvfmarge @peaceloveunitygvf @mar-rein12 @jjwasneverhere @areuirish @mar-rein12

[blackfangedreaper]

SCANDALOUS

Prompt: "Mumu button."

Pairing: Luffy x Black!Fem!Informant!Reader

Warnings: Sexual content, Luffy and reader gets walked in on, cursing, grammatical errors. Mdni.

Note: Mumu definition; dumb/stupid.

Tags: @closet-degenerate @h3rfave @iin0va @avaricious-hoe @audreys-works @444katsuki

Orange hues reflected against the calm waves of the sea. Sunny was stocked up and ready to set sail as everyone was done with their shopping. It was sunset already and everyone was out on the deck they seemed to be searching for something or rather someone. Well not like you could help, you were currently getting your back blown out.

The left side of your body was pushed up against the window pane, shivers raking down your spine at the cold glass and your left was on the wall. Your breath fogging up the window as you peered down at the crewmates frantically searching for their supposedly missing captain, what they didn't know was that he was up here with you the whole time. Infact he never left the ship.

"Ok guys! You know what to do, be back before sunset." Nami said walking out of sunny and onto the pier. Robin trailing silently beside nami with her usual calm smile painted on her lips and an energetic chopper by her side. "Wahhh! Look a cotton candy stand!"

"Hai! Nami-swannn~" sanji twirled around before entering the kitchen to get his shopping list then barging out not a second later almost trampling on a half asleep zoro to catch up with 'his' lovely ladies. "Wait up! Nami-swan! Robin-chwan!"

"Ugh, stupid cook watch where you're going!" The moss head groaned walking off the ship to get some booze.

"Oi! Zoro-kun! You forgot your compass!" Ussop ran after him waving the bronze compass while franky and brook laughed as they trailed after zoro. Not knowing they forgot you both on the ship to yourselves and you know the saying... When the mouse is away the cats will play. I-Is that correct? Aish nvm.

Which leads to the beginning of luffy fucking your brains out. Honestly it was meant to be a sweet stay-in couples day but after cooking and eating with luffy you had a gossip/sunbathing session until he decided he wanted to watch the sunset in the crowsnest.

But after seeing how the orange sun rays bathed your bronze skin and the way the sun reflected in your eyes; highlighting your dark browns he couldn't take it, he wanted to see you in your full glory but with the sunset hues bathing every part of your naked skin. He first told you how beautiful you looked before smashing his lips against yours passionately.

And before you could blink you were pushed against the window and cool wooden walls of the crowsnest. Your shorts and panties pulled down and off of you, you felt the cool breeze brush against your already aching clit, whimpering and shivering when you felt luffy run his cold index and middle finger up and down your slit, your eyes almost rolling back when he pushed into your clenching hole.

Pushing his free hand into your shirt to grope your breasts as you sucked his fingers in immediately. Squelching sounds echoing around the empty room as he increased his pace going in and out of you relentlessly before pulling his fingers out and sucking on them making a thin string of saliva as he brought them out of his mouth. "Hmm."

Before you could say anything you heard the unbuckling of his belt and the feeling of his hot and large head prodding at your entrance before he slammed into you, your naked ass making contact with his shorts "Fuckkk! Luffy!"

"Haha! Sorry you just feel so good." He smiled then started to move, grabbing on your waist to match your pace with his as he fucked you against the window, pounding into you aggressively drawing moans and screams out of you as he watched ripples form on your ass from the force of his plows "I wouldn't do that if i were you." He said smiling at you.

You suddenly felt their presence on the ship. Shit. How didn't you notice earlier. Your eyes trailed after them seeing them walking around the ship as if they were looking for something or rather someone. if only they noticed the hand pressed against the window of sunny's crowsnest.

"L-Luffy- oh- wait!" You begged pushing back trying to move away from the window and fortunately he pulled out of you but before you could do anything he turned you around and pushed your back against the window fully then wrapped your legs around his waist before plunging into you again and this time his pace was unforgiving. "Ah- luffy! slow down!"

"Haha no thanks!" He laughed his hands smacking your bum, grasping handfuls and grinding into you. If anyone looked up now they would see your back and the tight grip luffy had on your ass through the window especially since your sun-kissed skin looked like a fucking beacon, you were hoping they either had bad eyesight or they weren't look up at all.

Unwrapping your legs around his waist he pushed your knees right beside your head and against the cool glass of the window and immediately you slapped both your palms against your mouth to prevent the guttural moan that was about to escape from your mouth. Turning your head, you peer out the window to see if anyone had caught you both yet.

You could feel every thrust he gave you now, his tip abusing your cervix as if to push into your womb, which would happen if he applied more force. "Look at me." Luffy demanded staring right at you, you could feel his gaze burning holes through you. You refused still looking down at his crewmates, watching their movements carefully but you were interrupted when luffy thrusted in sharply getting a muffled 'luffy' from you before he repeated himself. "Look. At. Me."

And you did, you looked right back at him and you regretted it immediately, his eyes were halflidded as he smirked at your appearance, mocking you by jutting his bottom lip out and saying. "Aw, look at you, such a mess." And you really were, your furrowed eyebrows were up and high in alert and your eyes were wide, tears brimming the edges of your lower eyelids.

You tried to keep your eyes from rolling back into your skull and let's not talk about how you were trying so hard to keep your moans at bay by covering your mouth to the best of your abilities but it didn't look like it was working cause your mouth was agape underneath, infact he would be viewing your ahegao face if it wasn't for your meddling palms. "Nnngh!"

He pumped into you feeling his release getting close, the thread in his abdomen thinning steadily as he took you against the wall. You were getting close too with the way you clenched around his shaft, your thighs shaking against his grip and hands getting tired of covering your mouth with no support to hang unto for so long, you could feel your saliva slipping through your fingers as you gasped at his increased pace. "mmfph!"

Your muffled moans and whimpers sounded like heaven to him, he groaned feeling you clench around him tightly. "Careful wouldn't want to break me now would you?" He chuckled bringing your weary knees to rest on his shoulder letting him press and dive deeper into you more. He moaned as he chased after both his and your release. You gasped relieved maybe they wouldn't catch you both after all. Too bad you jinxed it, cause after that thought you heard zoro's voice and his footsteps.

"Yeah, yeah wake me up when you find them." It sounded a little muffled but you could tell he was close. You looked at luffy panicked, shaking your head at him to stop but you knew he wouldn't, he had no shame. He started this and he was going to finish it whether he was going to be caught or not.

He wrapped his left hand around both your wrists jerking them away from your mouth and pinning them up the window before jerking his hips harshly, you bit your lips trapping the sinful sounds in your throat. This angered luffy, he didn't like this, not one bit. And he knew just what to do to punish you.

You heard zoro's footsteps coming closer, your heart thumping as loud as his foot steps, the hatch to the crownest opened and just as your eyes locked onto zoro's bewildered ones, luffy thought it was a good idea to palm your boobs, squeeze your nipple and bite the base of your neck right were your 'mumu button' was.

Now ladies and gentlemen the 'mumu button' is a sensitive spot found on a person that once touched, at that very moment all rational reasoning flies out the window. This causes the person to be under a very unbreakable spell [not literally, dumbass.] following only the orders of their now beloved like a mindless zombie, in short if luffy told you to sell your soul... you would with no hesitation whatsoever, trust me there's no getting out of this. You will be remembered brave soldier, you fought well.

Your head went limp as your eyes rolled back harshly into your skull, goosebumps littered your brown skin, your jaw dropping to release the loudest moan your vocal cord could allow, not only did this suprise zoro but luffy cause he's never heard you moan that loud, so loud he was sure the the whole crew heard you, he was so out of it, he didn't know he released your hands.

 He hissed, moaning when he felt you tug and pull at his hair roughly due to the intensity of your orgasm. Luffy came right after you releasing thick rubbons of cum into you and with how you spasmed around him, he whimpered feeling you milk his cock. His eyes rolled back enjoying how tight and warm you were before burying his head into the same spot he abused with his teeth. He exhaled hearing zoro slam the hatch shut with a flustered expression.

Both your bodies heaving, goosebumps still present from your harsh orgasms as your chests rose in rhythm. Your head leaning against the window pane as you tried to calm your heart from beating so fast.

"What was that?" Luffy panted looking at you in amusement. "That has never happened before." He said before poking that exact spot only to get a yelp from you. "Luffy! Stop." You whined pouting before glaring at him then pulling his cheeks "you little shit!" You felt so embarrassed, zoro had caught you both. They obviously knew you guys fuck but it's different if they're walking in on you both doing the deed. "Ow! I'm sowwy! Staph! That hwurts!" Fuck you couldn't be mad at him, he did give you a mind blowing orgasm.

You sigh releasing his now red and swollen cheeks. Yelping when he pulled out of you, his cum pouring out of you in loads. Just how much did he cum? you felt so full.

"Ugh luffy! How am i gonna face them now!" You groaned covering your face with your palms before jerking them away at the slimy sensation of your drool.

"Huh? Who cares let's go! It's kinda hot in here." He pulled and buckled his shorts then proceeded to help you put on your clothes before seeing they were soiled. "Or just wait here I'll bring you new clothes!" He laughed running out of the crowsnest.

"Ughhh..." You then groaned sliding down the wall to the floor in embarrassment recalling how you came in front of zoro, looking into his eyes as you did so infact. This memory will forever replay during your sleepless nights as it has now joined your 'embarrassing memories' folder.

ONE PIECE; TREASURE BOX.

"Oi, marimo why is your face all red?" Sanji said blowing his cigarette fumes at the flustered zoro.

"Ugh... Fuck off pervert cook." Zoro groaned pushing past sanji, recalling what he had seen a while ago before walking away. "I don't get paid enough for this... Fuck- i don't even get paid!"

"Who pissed in his booze, tch! stupid moss head." He said watching luffy run past him, following him with his eyes but when he was about to call out to him he caught a glimpse of peach coloured panties sticking out of the back pocket of his signature blue shorts.

"A-Are those Y/n-swan's p-p-panties??!" He exclaimed falling on his knees and banging on the floor boards shocked at the thought that luffy once again gets pussy more than he does while trying to control the jet of blood from his nose that had started to propel him off the ship.

[blouisparadise]

Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of July. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Louis' Wish / Harry's Daydream | Mature | 1987words

Louis and Harry are best friends. Louis is in love with Harry. Harry is in love with Louis. Neither of them knows it. What will happen if Harry catches Louis masturbating and screaming his name? Come and find out

2) It Was Worth The Wait, I Think You Deserve A Taste | Explicit | 1945 words

Louis wants to be fucked but Harry has something else planned for him.

3) To Walk Out of My Life | Mature | 1981 words

This time it was Niall and his stupid group chats that had gotten them in this situation. Harry and Louis have had a multitude of "one last times," they always end up the same, two men panting on the bed using their bodies to convey the words they'd never say.

4) A Messy Show | Explicit | 2,094 words

“Need you now, yeah. Bathroom?” Harry reached into his pocket and shook his head. “Nah. Niall has a girl in there. And Ed’s with someone in our room. And-,” “I get the picture,” Louis said, glaring up at Harry and palming his dick. “You have room here,” Luke said, causing them to both snap their heads his way. He gestured at the people lazying around their living room. “What? It’s your space. Besides, everyone is so high if anyone notices, they won’t care. Or they’ll find it hot and watch. Like me.” Harry combed a hand down his face, and when Louis squeezed his dick, he made the decision for them both. “Sure. Lou, take off your pants.”

5) Can't Believe You | Explicit | 2096 words

Barricade has always been hot to watch. Seeing the fans grab and caress Louis as if they own him. But this barricade went a little too far. “Ripping his entire fucking shirt,” Harry mumbles angrily to himself, bringing up the messages with a certain ginger. 

6) Doctor | Mature | 2378 words

Harry and Louis are best friends that like each other but are too afraid to say anything. Harry is an ER doctor and one day Louis has to go to the ER because he couldn't pull out the sex toy that he was using to get off as he thought about Harry. What happens when Harry is his doctor? Maybe it will turn out better than Louis thought.

7) Except It Wasn’t | Explicit | 5469 words

It was a normal day, except that it was their five-year bonding anniversary. It was a normal day, except that they were going to finally start trying for pups. It was a normal day, except something awful happened to Louis. It was a normal day, except it wasn’t.

8) On That Note | Explicit | 6237 words

Louis’ office job on an omega only floor would be absolutely fine, if not for the alphas he and his friends have to deal with in the building. But although they’ve never met face to face, the friendly notes sent between him and Harry in Purchasing help him get through the day.

9) Your Right Now, Your Forever, Your Last Call, Your Whatever | Mature | 6361 words

“We should kiss.” So they kiss.

10) It’s Only Sunny Cause The Planet’s Dying | Explicit | 13643 words

The man leans back in his chair and looks down at the tarot cards in front of him. “Wow, that was really impressive. How long did it take you to memorize all this bullshit?” He raises a brow and that challenging look is back on his face, but he’s not even bothering to mask it this time. It makes Louis’ blood run cold. “I beg your pardon?” The man chuckles, but there’s no humor in it. “If you take a peek in my wallet that you just stole, you’ll see there’s a detective’s badge in there. Why don’t you come on down to the police station with me and you can explain your methods to me there?”

11) The Boy In The Café | Mature | 14624 words

Where Harry serves Louis his morning tea while writing him silly jokes and dropping his Number there too.

12) This Could Either Break My Heart, Or Bring It Back To Life | Not Rated | 18349 words

Harry never really cared for love: he has two children he needs to care for, and a Country to rule. Love is just not in his cards. Enter Louis, who spins his children's lives but most importantly Harry's.

13) Blue Moon | General Audiances |20351 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

What happens when Louis moves away from the busy city life to a small village in the middle of nowhere and meets Harry, the sweetest and most understanding Alpha? Will Harry be able to get Louis' walls down? Will he be able to adjust to the slower pace of life in the village and open up to Harry's love? As they navigate their new relationship, will they be able to overcome the obstacles from Louis’ past?

14) Not Safe For Work | Explicit | 23295 words

I want to drown myself in Harry’s scent until I smell like him. “I think I'm open to trying that too. Sounds very good.” Louis shakes his head a little to get out of the Harry’s-scent-spiral. “Huh?” “The dish your finger's pointing at. I thought that might be what you’re choosing?” “Oh. Yeah.”

15) 'Cause I Want You (For The Worse And For The Better) | Not Rated | 26375 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

When Louis gets invited along to Anne's wedding, Harry is prepared to let people think whatever they want about their relationship. That's what Louis said -- let people think whatever they want. That changes when Louis sees his ex, who turns out to be Anne's future husband's son. Now, Louis wants to prove that he's an omega that an alpha could want, and Harry wants to get through this weekend without letting his best friend figure out he's in love with him.

16) Deep Sea, Baby | Explicit | 28170 words

“Bunny, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” And just with that, Louis knew he wasn’t kidnapped or being pranked. He really was in his personal hell where the ex-love of his life still cared for him enough to make him breakfast, call him pet names and worry about him. And let’s not forget the part where his best friend apparently  was no longer his friend. “I’m…” ‘You’re what??’ He thought. He couldn’t tell his mother he didn’t have any idea how he went from having a nice apartment in Hampstead to wake up in a “Didn’t Know I was Fucking Married and had a Distasteful Taste in Sheets.” episode. She was just going to worry and think he just lost his marbles. No one would believe him—to be frank, he wouldn’t believe himself either.

17) The Property Girl | Explicit | 31428 words

"YOU'RE THE PROPERTY GIRL!" Property what?!

18) Home Calls The Heart | Mature | 44091 words

A series of unfortunate events lands Louis Tomlinson in the heart of Texas. After running from his life in London and a performative marriage, he leaves a scandal in his wake. Home calls the heart, as his Nana always said. Though her words couldn't be truer when he decides to take up her offer to watch over Hyacinth ranch while she travels abroad. He figured the worst he'd have to deal with would be the meddlesome goats, some repairs and an errant spirit or two. That is, until the gorgeous Cowboy next door makes his presence known.

19) Men of Steel, Men of Power | Explicit | 58849 words

“You’ve been watching me,” Styles said. Louis swallowed around nothing. He tried for light. “You’re the newest addition, people are bound to be curious,” he said. “Sure,” said Styles, in a somewhat condescending tone. “I’m not that daft, I do notice the curiosity regarding my clothes. That’s not what you’re doing though, hm?” Styles’ gaze was intense, and Louis could feel it burn on the side of his face, but kept his eyes stubbornly on the coffee cup. “I,” he said, licked his lips. Took a deep breath, tried to look open, confident, dominant. Alpha.

20) The Habit I Can't Break | Explicit | 63140 words

While searching for a healthy alternative to fill the void that one habit left, Louis gets hooked on something and someone totally different. This new experience pushes him way out of his comfort zone, making Louis realize he’s capable of so much more than he could’ve ever imagined.

21) King Of My Heart | Explicit | 83712 words

Harry shrugged, his shoulders brushing against Louis’. “I think since I was young, I craved that feeling, though. I didn’t always hate being a prince, but over time, certain aspects of it just bothered me so much. I remember being four years old and realizing that every person in the world knew my name, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted that. I told my mum as much and she tried telling me that being a prince is not a punishment. That it was a privilege that I should be happy about it, but no one asked me if I was. But looking up at the sky, I remember that all of this will one day mean nothing, and neither will I. All the pressure will then disappear and I could just be.” Louis stayed quiet, allowing Harry the space to open up because he knew Harry wasn’t looking for advice, but just someone to confide in. What he wished he could tell him was that in the short amount of time that he’d known the prince, in Louis’ eyes, he couldn’t be insignificant if he tried. He was brighter than every star up there in the sky. He was all Louis could look at and think about.

22) Wind Beneath My Wings | Explicit | 93131 words

“You shouldn’t be here,” Harry gritted out, wild-eyed. “You should be scared of me.” Louis opened his mouth to speak, to cut him off, to disagree, but Harry was pushing. “I could hurt you.” “You won’t hurt me,” Louis said, simple and assuredly. Calm. “I’m capable of hurting you.” “But you won’t. That’s not who you are, Harry. I trust you,” Louis whispered. As an omega carer that works at a rescue and rehabilitation centre for feral alphas and omegas, Louis has experienced all sides of ferality. So Harry- a cold, near mute, non-receptive alpha- was a challenging case for everyone at Phoenix Rehab Centre. Louis wasn’t expecting to feel drawn towards an aloof Harry, or to form a slow bond with him. He certainly was not expecting for his entire life to change in unforeseen ways.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[thisisperverse]

Aand that's a wrap on our summer of 69 challenge ⛱️ Some cool facts about it:

20 fanworks

1 fanart

19 fics

20 authors/artists

4 WIPs so even more fun to come

thousands of km/miles traveled

including 4 trips to Marbella (i wonder why)

countless cocktails 🍹

so much love!

and coolest fact: 100k+ words written total! If you want to know what they were all about, check the fics and their summaries below.

Want to join the fun? Find us at discord.gg/royjamie.

Play Like A Tartt by hopefulromance, jackhowad (T)

Jamie is sick and tired of homophobia in football and decides he can do something about it

sunshine warm, moonlight soft by asphodellic (E)

If asked, Roy will insist it’s the heat that drives him back into the house and not the way the sunlight is sinking into Jamie’s stupid floppy hair and glistening off his sweat slicked muscles. He’s Roy fucking Kent, and he’s never run away from a hot person in his life. If he was in his prime, he would already have Jamie bent in half in his bed upstairs, one hand over his mouth while he takes him apart, and that would be that.

Are We There Yet? by��ABubblingCandle (G)

Train strikes derail Jamie's summer plans so he has to find another way to travel the length of the country. Good thing he has a coach that loves him so much and will drop everything to drive him on a 4 hour each way round trip ... what do you mean Roy said no?

swelter/shake by farewllyouth (E)

Roy approaches with a glass in each hand, slips off his slides and lowers himself to the edge of the pool. His feet dangle in the cool water as Jamie takes his drink, fingertips brushing. They don’t speak, sipping their drinks under the canopy stretched over the pool. Jamie finishes first, because Roy gave him a straw and too much ice, and his patience is in shorter supply. The sound of the distant waves off the beach reach them even through the trees surrounding the property. Roy leans back on his hands and takes a deep breath, head tilted back so he can get a good lungful of humid, salty sea air. “So you getting in, or what?”

be my summer boyfriend by BestDeadFriendsForever (E)

It’d been nine days since Roy landed in Marbella and it was somewhere around eleven when he limped out of his bedroom for a glass of water, his mouth cottony and head aching slightly, to see Jamie fucking Tartt standing in the middle of the kitchen in an unbuttoned linen shirt and one of the tiniest pair of swim shorts that Roy had ever seen. He had on a pair of sunnies despite being inside- though the floor to ceiling windows that made up the entire back wall lessened the prickishness a little- and his hair was falling across his forehead in a soft wave. “The fuck’re you doing here?” Roy demanded, feeling awkward at only being in a pair of socks and his boxer-briefs.

Questionable Summer Fashion Choices by ABubblingCandle (G)

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Roy didn’t even know what to think about what he had just walked in on. He had existed in football changing rooms are all long as he could remember and so had stumbled upon everything you could ever think of stumbling upon in a changing room. But this complete and utter affront to his sensibilities was something brand new and a full different tier of stupid. “Oh, hey Roy,” Keeley chirped up from where she was reclined in the corner on her phone. “What the fuck is he wearing?” Roy turned to Keeley to try and get an answer through the giggles of the assembled greyhounds. They were only buckets of popcorn away from this being a real show. “Um it’s called a shirt Roy,” Jamie scoffed, rolling his eyes as he spun round.

A Camping Trip with Phoebe by garlic_salt_is_superior (G)

Roy and Jamie take Phoebe on a camping trip during the off-season

Will You Be My Plus One (Now and Forever?) by Rayvynheart (T)

Five plus weddings over the course of his barely 12 weeks off? He honestly didn’t even know he knew that many single people. This does present an issue, though. There’s no way Jamie Tartt can be seen at a wedding without a plus one. He’s got a reputation to maintain, after all. Not to mention that now that he’s barely drinking, trying to get through a whole wedding and reception without someone there to help distract him sounds like torture. How’s he supposed to find dates to every single one?   Hmmmm I wonder how Jamie Tartt is going to solve this dilemma???

Family Beach Day by luvsbitca (G)

“Papa,” Georgina said. “Why is Daddy in your phone as Grandad?” “We never should have taught you to read.” Gee giggled. “You’re so silly.” Just fun, simple, sweet family day at the beach fluff.

Good Night, Sleep Tight by maskedwolves (E)

“What’re you doing?” Jamie asks as he complies with Roy’s silent command and hoists himself up onto the quartz countertop. Roy takes in Jamie’s tired, naked form - eye lids only half open, shoulders slightly slumped, soft cock as sleepy as the rest of him –and wonders how this perfect human chose him to spend his life with. “Getting my tired husband washed up for bed.” “I can get myself ready,” Jamie says with a sleepy smile, amused at Roy taking care of him like this. “Yes, but you don’t have to.”

Like Sand At The Beach by luvsbitca (E)

Jamie took his chance, why not, why shouldn’t it be him, why couldn’t it be him. Why couldn’t he be the person Roy wanted? He caught the corner of Roy’s mouth; his lips dry against Roy’s. he pressed there for a just a moment or two but then pulled away, catching Roy’s eyes when they opened again. Jamie realised a beat later that Roy had closed his eyes…Jamie had kissed him, and the other man had closed his eyes, his heart started thumping. He licked at his bottom lip and then pressed forward and leaned in again, catching Roy’s bottom lip.   Jamie and Roy have sex in Marbella...that is all. They are in love too!

wonderstruck (blushing all the way home) by bizarrebedtimestories (E)

There's a small velvet box sitting on the table where his breakfast should be. Behind it, there's a man, familiar and very beautiful, smiling shyly at him. Roy doesn't have a clue what's going on. "Yes?" "This—" The man nudges the box forward with a few of his fingers. "—is for you." Roy pulls it towards him slowly, like someone preparing to diffuse a bomb. He hesitates, glancing up at the stranger once more before he tells himself to get over it, you fucking ninny! Roy opens the box. "Is this a fucking engagement ring?" Or the selkie!Jamie fic nobody asked for.

cruel summer (what doesn't kill me makes me want you more) by valdomarx (E)

Roy's knee is fucked, he's been dumped, and he's spending an awful lot of time on the couch. So he's doing great. It's just unfortunate that he can't turn on his TV without seeing Jamie fucking Tartt and his stupid reality show. And it's even more unfortunate that Jamie has his phone number. And for some reason, he keeps messaging him.

a body at rest by mixtapestar (E)

Roy shows Jamie how to relax on holiday.

only wanna be the one that i call baby by howdyrowdypartner (T)

“There’s a lot coming up,” Roy says, instead of all that. “With the manager position, and shit. I need some time to think about,” he gestures vaguely between them, “this.” Jamie nods, slowly, lips pursed together. “Alright,” he says again. Roy really hates that fucking word. “You ought to take a trip or something, Coach,” Jamie says, flopping back down onto the pillows, making no move to leave Roy’s bed despite the whole needing space thing. “Take a holiday before the season starts. Get your head on straight.” That - isn’t the worst idea Jamie’s ever had, really. --- Or, the seven days in which Roy loses his fucking mind, thanks to Jamie.

a carcass of a man, i belong inside his skin by NineWesternStars (M)

When he arrived, kicking up dust in his dark wine Aston, Jamie’s first thought was, this is what football’s greatest left for? He was decidedly unimpressed and told Roy as much, with one foot out of his luxury sports car and poised to drop into a forgotten pile of cowshit. Roy had given him a look of such loathing when Jamie used the bottom step of the farmhouse to scrape off his trainer. (Jamie is sent to Roy's farm for the summer, in hopes of becoming a better player.) ​

the only heaven i’ll be sent to is when i’m alone with you by nightcabret (T)

“Tartt! I know you’re in there and we’re going to be fucking late-” Roy cuts off right as Jamie swings open the door. He looks pissed, but Jamie watches as he takes him in, his eyes widening and mouth gaping in a way that would be downright comical if Jamie wasn’t currently channeling most of his focus into standing up straight. “Woah. You look like shit.” “That’s fucking rude.” Jamie scoffs, right as he loses the fight against keeping his balance and sways forward.

keep a place for me by soofyahn (E)

Jamie glances at his blood-stained hoodie and frowns. At least the last time he confessed his love, he was wearing a suit. Turns out how they're dressed doesn’t matter much, in the end. The two of 'em might as well be wearing shirts that say ‘I’m with stupid’. Five accidental dates, or: four times Jamie makes an effort to dress for the occasion, and one time he doesn’t put nearly enough thought into what he wears.