#so then we talked about it a little later as we were winding down for bed

[izudeeilo]

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You can study me

Sero hanta smau

volley-ball player sero x art student fem!reader, no quirks au, college au.

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Senior year is finally here! You thought that this time, the teachers would be more lenient with you and your classmates, but not at all. In fact, they even got stricter... They assigned you a half year-long work, which would be worth 30% of your final grade. What does the work consist of, you ask? Making a complete study of the life of a student you need to pick and paint it.

But... you can't pick a friend.

Part .3 • Part .5 (soon)

Part 4

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You had been in the car for 30 minutes before you finally arrived at his mysterious destination. Hanta didn’t let anything slip the entire drive, but the whole ride had been really enjoyable.

Listening to the radio with the windows slightly open, wind blowing in your hair, you couldn’t stop your eyes from drifting from time to time to his face and his hands gripping the wheel.

When you stepped out of the car you were greeted by a beautiful orange flower field in the middle of nowhere. A bit further away you could see another car parked right in front of the field.

”Hanta…that’s— that looks heavenly oh my” you mumble, shock visible on your face. You felt his hand in your back guiding you to the car who had its trunk wide open. There, you were surprised by a blanket covering the floor of the trunk, small lights taped on the inside and a basket filled with snacks.

”I like coming here to watch the sunset when I feel a little down. I figured you might want to see it” he runs his hand in the back of his neck with a small smile.

”Thank you Hanta, that’s lovely. I love this” you smile at him and his eyes get lost in yours as he sees the excitement fill your eyes. He feels stupid for not having the courage to ask you out. When he heard your voice through the phone, all he had memorized a few minutes before disappeared from his mind in a single second.

He cleared his throat and offered you his hand. “Shall we?”

You grin “We shall” you say as you take his hand and he helps you climb inside. You find a comfortable position and Hanta settles himself next to you.

You never would’ve thought that time could run by so fast with someone. You’ve been talking for hours about anything that crossed your minds. Not getting bored a single second. How haven't you noticed him all this time? How did Izuku never mention him and his other friends before?

Perhaps it wasn’t yet time for you to meet and you were made to crossways in a specific way or place, like this assignment.

When you think about it, it’s all thanks to that teacher for giving you that assignment. You wouldn’t have met Hanta without it, or maybe you would’ve but later on? but how long after, that’s the question.

You snap out of your thoughts when you hear Hanta calling out to you.

”Earth to y/n, you’re here bonita?” he chuckles at your surprised face.

”Yes! Sorry I um— got lost in my thoughts " you chuckle and turn to him more attentively.

”I was saying the sun is beginning to set” he points to the horizon with his lips and you straighten yourself up to crawl closer to the scenery. You cross your legs and feel Hanta doing the same thing as your shoulders lightly brush against each other.

Hanta let his eyes fall on your form as you sit here admiring the sky. He could smell your perfume, a sweet, warm and fruity scent he had grown to love and crave. It hadn’t been long since you guys first met but god did you drive him crazy.

To the point of his whole family knowing almost everything about you from how much he rambled about you when he went to visit them. Leaving him embarrassed anytime, they mention when he’ll bring you home and how they wish to meet the girl that had their boy so infatuated.

But what if you didn’t feel the same? What if he confessed, and it ruined everything you two had going on. He wouldn’t risk that. He would rather stay friends forever than not have you in his life.

So for now, he was just going to admire you from afar and enjoy the moments you already share.

As you watch the sun set, you take out the small camera you always had on yourself and take a picture. You turn to Hanta and take a quick picture of him as well when you thought he wasn't looking.

”Did you just—“ he grins.

”Nope!” You say as you try to hide the camera from him when he attempts to snatch it from your hands.

”I should be allowed to take a picture of you as well then, lend me that camera would you” he chuckles as he leans closer and begins tickling your sides.

“Hanta— stop that—“ you can’t help the loud laugh that espaces your mouth as you try to get his hands away from your sides. He keeps tickling you until tears begin to form in your eyes and you give up.

”O-OK! here” you hand him the camera with one hand and wipe the small tear drops that threaten to fall from your eyes as you continue to let out small giggles.

He takes the camera from your hands and snaps a picture the moment you turn your head at him.

”Wait, let me at least pose or something!” You protest.

”No, it’s perfect the way it is” he laughs as you cross your arms and attempt to look mad at him.

���Come on, I know you can’t stay mad at me for long” he nudged your arm teasingly.

You sigh and roll your eyes. “You’re right I can’t”

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you before Hanta speaks again.

”You’ll send me the picture I took of you?”

”Yeah, of course” You give him a closed eye smile.

a/n im having so much fun writing this, i can't stop skjsks ughh i love sero sm

[yongseungkim]

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[celestemona]

⋆˙⟡ — FOUR TIMES MUALANI SUSPECTED SOMETHING WAS GOING ON (AND ONE TIME SHE WAS RIGHT)

pairing: kinich x reader

cw: no pronouns mentioned. ajaw is in a vacation. slight but not slight pda. mualani overreacting but she is a sweet. best friends trio. pyro vision reader mentioned. not beta-read.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

Mualani knew Kinich and you were friends—close best friends, just like you two were with her—but lately, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. 

It started with little things, almost too subtle to be noticeable but somehow it didn’t escape from her perception. Things like how Kinich, ever the quiet guy, had begun lingering a little too long when he talked to you, or how you’d run all your way to the Scions of the Canopy's village just to welcome him back after a mission. 

At first, she didn’t pay too much attention thinking you guys were just being more affectionative and caring to each other. However, as time passed by, it has been shown to be more than a mutual friendly appreciation and certainly beyond a mere coincidence. 

I.

The first time Mualani noticed something different was in an early morning by the coast, watching the waves curl and crash. She often started her day stretching at the shore and riding the first waves of dawn. But this time, as she rounded a cliff, she spotted Kinich and you sitting on a rock overlooking the sea. The two of you were close enough that your arms brushed every time the wind picked up.

Kinich’s usual stern expression was softer than usual. Mualani squinted at you suspiciously. Were you... holding hands?

She jogged closer, but just as she got near enough to say something, Kinich quickly stood up, putting a considerable distance between you and himself. “You're up early,” he said, his voice in its usual calm.

You smiled warmly. “Hey girl! How are the waves? We were just discussing about it.”

Mualani tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “You were? Really?”

You let out a light and confusing laugh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Of course.”

She didn’t quite buy it, but you didn’t give her any reason to push further. “Well, the waves are good today! You guys joining?”

Kinich only gave her a polite headshaking, while you nodded smiling. Maybe she was imagining things.

II.

Except she wasn’t. 

A few days later, you were hanging out by Tequemecan Valley' canyons with Kinich standing quietly while you and Mualani chatted. However, every time she glanced toward him, Kinich seemed to be watching you a little too intently. It wasn’t the usual hunter’s focus; it was softer, caring, almost like... adoring.

The girl squinted, pretending to be interested in some flowers nearby while keeping an eye on you two. You didn’t seem to notice anything, or if did, you didn’t mind. You just kept talking, your laughter filling the air.

When Mualani caught Kinich staring again, she couldn’t help but ask, “Kinich, you okay? You’ve been zoning out all day.”

He blinked, his neutral mask slipping back into place. “I’m fine.”

“He’s just tired from all the training,” you teased, winking at him.

Mualani raised an eyebrow, astonished by the scene before her eyes. Something was definitely going on.

III.

The third time came on a day when Mualani was guiding a group of Sumeru’s travelers near the springs when she spotted you and Kinich again, standing by the water. As she approached, she saw Kinich leaning down to whisper something to you, his lips close to your ear. You giggled softly in response.

Wait a minute... Kinich never whispers to anyone. Much less in such an intimate way and even less to make someone laugh. Mualani's instincts flared up immediately. What was he saying? And why did you look so happy about it?

She cleared her throat loudly as she walked up. “Hey. What are you two whispering about?”

Kinich straightened up quickly, crossing his arms. “Nothing important.”

You smiled at her, but there was a glimmer in your eyes that made the girl even more suspicious. “Just a silly joke,” you said lightly.

A joke, huh? Mualani filed it away in her mind. This time she was very determined to figure out what was going on between you two.

IV.

It was late afternoon, and Mualani had just finished surfing when she saw you two by the waterside. Kinich and you stood close, so close as it has strangely been, and for a brief moment, she could have sworn Kinich was about to lean in and kiss you.

She froze, watching from a distance as you smiled up at him, your palm softly pushing his chest away. Were you two really about to kiss? It couldn’t be just her angle view. Could it be?

But just as quickly as it happened, Kinich stepped back, his usual stoic demeanor falling back into place. You turned and waved at her, your smile as bright as ever.

“Lani. Hey! How was the surf?” you called out.

Mualani, still in shock, shook her head. “Uh... good. Really good.”

She stared at you both for a moment longer, convinced she’d almost witnessed something, but there was no proof. Again.

V.

In the several days that followed, Mualani continued to witness that strangeness that kept repeating itself every time you thought she wasn’t around, creating a certain tension between her and you and Kinich—although she doubted that you had noticed any difference, treating her as you always did from the beginning.

Even if it relieved her to know that nothing had changed in your friendship, the surfer couldn't help but feel upset too. Was it that bad if she found out? Didn't you trust her the same way she trusted you? She wanted to be able to release all of her thoughts and ask you if maybe there was something in your bond that was bothering you. But she didn't. And so, things remained the same.

That was a quiet evening, and the moon hung low over the mountains. Mualani had been taking a stroll, enjoying the peaceful night, when she stumbled upon you.

This time, though, there was no mistaking it—Kinich and you stood together under some trees, locked in a slow, deep kiss.

The girl’s cheeks burned as red as the pyro vision you hold so dear closely, eyes widely opening and heart skipping a beat. She gasped, louder than she intended, and both of you quickly turned toward her. You blinked twice before smiling stiffly, even daring to look a bit embarrassed, while Kinich gave her a calm look, his hands still resting on your waist.

“You two!” She exclaimed shaking her head, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me earlier! I mean, I knew something was up, but really?”

You bit your lip while Kinich just blinked at her, slightly starting to look more guilty as well.

“We didn’t mean to keep it from you for long,” you said as you stepped out of Kinich’s arms and reached for her hand. “We were just... taking our time.”

Mualani arched an eyebrow. “Taking your time? You two were being so weird and annoying with all those suspicious interactions for weeks now! I’m supposed to be your best friend!”

Kinich rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. “We wanted to keep it quiet,” he said, his voice low. “At first, anyway.”

Mualani softened, her fake scold melting away into genuine affection. “Still, I would’ve loved to know sooner,” she said, her tone gentler now. “You know me better than anyone else. You know I would never judge you,” she sighed as she watches the sorrow on your face. “Nevertheless, I’m really happy for you both. Really am.”

You beamed and even Kinich’s usual stoic expression seemed to relax slightly.

Mualani continued, her voice full of warmth. “I’ve always known you two had something special. And now that I know for sure, you better believe I’m fully on board with this!” She shot Kinich a playful look. “Just make sure you treat (Y/N) right, okay?”

Kinich nodded, his eyes softening as he glanced at you. “I will.”

You squeezed Mualani’s hand, your eyes sparkling with gratitude and pure happiness. “Thank you, Lani. Your support means a lot to us.”

Mualani grinned, pulling you both into a tight hug. “Just don’t keep secrets from me again, alright? I’m always here for you two.”

You all laughed but shared a quick but sweet bond moment, the atmosphere light and easy. And somehow, Mualani couldn’t help but feel like everything had fallen into place just the way it was meant to.

“But just for your information. If the day comes of you get engaged and don’t tell me immediately, I’ll crash the proposal myself, make a huge scene, and tell everyone how long I’ve had to put up with your not so secret glances and not so subtle hand-holding. Trust me, it won’t be pretty!”

[pellucid-constellations]

Of Oblivious Minds (2)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst!! More pining and yearning

a/n: Here is part two! I love writing this little series :) There will definitely be more! let me know what you think ♡♡

Part 1, Part 3

~~

Sometimes you hated being a scholar. 

There were plenty of upsides to having such a cushy job, especially when your employer was the high lord himself. You got paid generously, got free access to the best libraries, and never had to pay rent. Millions of fae would kill to have your position. 

But as Cassian punched you in the ribs—for the third time—you found yourself questioning your role within the night court’s inner circle.

“Okay,” you breathed out, hunching over with a hand cradling your side. “Okay, please, Cass. Can we take a break?” 

Unfortunately, Cassian didn’t appreciate quitters. So, your feet were abruptly swept from under you and your back made contact with the floor. With a soft oof, the wind was knocked from your lungs. 

“C’mon, y/n, you’re better than that. I know you are.” 

You responded with a wheeze, blinking into the pale sun. 

This morning had been rough.

You’d been having some trouble sleeping, but that wasn’t necessarily unusual. Being alive for so long meant you had seen quite a few things, so nightmares came and went with the tide. You were going through a rough patch with them at the moment, and the lack of sleep was starting to catch up with you.

“You planning on laying there for the rest of the day?” Cassian asked, his large silhouette coming to block the light. 

You squinted up at him. “Maybe.” 

“Yeah, not happening.” 

You fought back a whine as the Illyrian pulled you up by your shoulders and steadied you. He nodded, giving you a moment to ready yourself back into position, and then bent his knees. Gods, you were going to be so sore later. 

It didn’t take long for you to end up on the floor again, this time on your stomach. Your chin cracked against the padded ring, your teeth snapping together at the impact. The sound made your brain vibrate as you rolled onto your side and held your temple. 

Cassian crouched down to the floor beside you and you could make out his worried brow amidst the shakiness of your vision. 

“What’s going on with you?” He brought his hand up to brush against your already bruising jaw. “We’ve been working on that move for weeks. You had it a few days ago.” 

You breathed through your nose and tried not to groan at the ache rolling through your body. “I think I’m just tired. I haven’t been sleeping very well.” 

At that, Cassian plopped down to a seat, keeping a hand at your elbow as you brought your own body up to mirror his. 

“You want to talk about it?” he questioned. 

“There isn’t much to say. I can’t remember them this time. It’s kind of strange—usually I remember them too much and that’s what makes it worse.” 

Cassian hummed in contemplation. He was always the one you went to the morning after a sleepless night. Cassian would listen as you talked through your nightmares, and you would do the same for him. He was a logical pillar in your life. 

But it was always Azriel you went to in the midst of them. You never talked about what you saw and he never asked. But it was always Azriel in the middle of the night. His shadows were a comfort in the pitch black and he was always quick to wrap his wings around you when it became too hard to breathe. 

You hadn’t gone to him these last few times.

The fact that you couldn’t remember your dreams was an unfortunate factor. Because if you knew what was causing you to wake up in a cold sweat every night, at least then you could talk about it. Or take a moment to rationalize. 

There was no rationalizing when the only thing you had to go off of was fear and hurt. 

“What does Azriel think?” Cassian asked after a small lapse in silence.

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, when you go to his room at night. What does he have to say about you not remembering?” 

You scoffed. And then scoffed again. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about, I barely do that.” 

Cassian stared at you with a blank expression. “So we’re still doing that then. Got it.” He heaved himself up from the ground and then yanked you up alongside him.

“Still doing what?” you asked, trailing behind him as he reached for his canteen. He didn’t answer you, favoring the long gulps of water he was taking. You waited for him to finish and then asked again. He chose to unwrap his knuckles instead. “Cassian.” 

The man sighed. “Nothing, y/n. It’s just… It wasn’t a secret that you would go to his room after you had a rough night. Why do you think I never dragged you out here those mornings?” You cringed at his words. He shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Why do you hide it?” 

You didn’t have a good reason—well, you didn’t used to. You’d always sneak out of his room after the sun rose and never bring it up again. And there was never a solid explanation for why you evaded the topic. You knew Azriel would never hold it against you and you weren’t embarrassed for others to know that you sought out comfort in a friend. It just seemed like something you should keep to yourself. 

Now, though—now there was a good reason to wipe your actions from memory. To pretend they never happened and to never repeat them. 

“Cassian, Elain is my friend. Even if I did that in the past—in a friendly way—it would be wrong now.” 

A muscle in Cassian’s jaw twitched. “Right. Have you ever actually talked to Elain about her feelings?” 

“I don’t need to.” You reached down for your own water, ignoring the twinge in your side and the pulsing in your head. “She never stops talking about him. And they’re always together. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were already seeing each other.” 

“Who’s seeing each other?” 

The cool tone of Azriel’s voice washed over you and you whipped around to find him standing at the foot of the training ring, blades in hand. 

A nervous laugh fell from your lips and you fought the urge to slap your hand over your mouth. “Um, no one, just some friends I know.” 

“Who?” he asked again. 

“Oh, you don’t know them. Old friends.” 

The Shadowsinger raised a brow, sending Cassian a fleeting look. “I thought I knew all of your friends.” 

“You don’t. I know way more people than you. Even though you're older than me. Not by that much, though. Have you talked to Elain lately?” Words were spewing from your mouth in the worst combinations. You were never nervous around Azriel. What in the cauldron was wrong with you?

Azriel’s raised brow turned into a furrowed one and he blinked, assessing your face with a scrutinizing gaze. “Do you have a concussion?” He turned the Cassian, expression going from confused to provoked. “Did you give her a concussion?” 

“Honestly, maybe.” 

“I don’t have a concussion,” you rushed out, cutting off Cassian’s admission. “I was just leaving though. I’m tired. You guys can fight each other.” 

There was so much sudden pent-up energy inside of you that you had no intention of sleeping, but just seeing Azriel made you feel like you were intruding on something. Which was absurd. Azriel was your friend and had been your friend for centuries. Just because he loved Elain didn’t mean you had to avoid him. 

But this energy had to come from somewhere, and that somewhere was telling you to avoid him like the Illyrian flu. 

Making a break for it, you freed yourself from the training ring and attempted to skate past Azriel with a quick side smile, but he apparently had other plans. He caught your wrist as you walked past, glancing up at a “preoccupied” Cassian before turning to you with his wing out, giving the illusion of a private conversation. 

“You’re not sleeping well?” he asked, voice low. 

You warped your smile into one that met both sides of your mouth. “I’m okay.” 

Shadows crept over his shoulders and along his ears. His expression shifted and pinched and then returned neutral. “You know you can come to me if you need it.” 

“I’m okay, Az. Really.” 

“Would you tell me if you weren’t?”

Maybe before. 

“I’m a paper pusher, Az. I’m not out in the throes of battle,” you jested, scrunching your nose as you smiled up at him. “Nothing is that serious for me.” 

A lie. Something was that serious—serious enough to keep you up at night for the past week—but you couldn’t figure out what it was. 

“That is not what I asked,” he countered, sliding his hand up from your wrist to turn your chin. “You need to ice your jaw. Cassian shouldn’t be so rough with you.” 

“I’m okay,” you said again, words a pathetic repetition because your heart was beating so fast now and you needed to leave. Something was pulling at your chest and you needed to leave. 

“As you’ve said,” Azriel muttered, his fingers brushing down along the column of your throat. When his eyes flickered up and met your own, something inside of you lost its alignment.

You looked away before the feeling could return. Everything righted itself. You took a wobbly step back. 

“Have a good training session.” 

You turned on your heel and stalked away, feeling equal parts the betrayer and the betrayed. 

~~

“You mean that girl off-continent? The one from a century ago?” 

Cassian hummed. “Yeah, her. What I wouldn’t give for a visit from her.” 

“You’re a pig,” Mor replied, a scoff sharp on her lips.

“She didn’t think so.” 

You were eavesdropping. You didn’t like to, but somehow, in the time you’d spent in the inner circle, you’d picked up the habit. Oops.

Technically, you weren’t really eavesdropping. You had been in the room first. It wasn’t your fault Cassian and Mor decided to speak very loudly with only a few shelves separating you. If they wanted privacy they should have checked the area. 

“Is it that hard for you to get laid? You have to search off-continent?” 

Cassian’s responding laugh was almost defensive. “I’m sure you’d love to know about my sex life.” 

“I really wouldn’t, actually. You brought it up.” Mor paused. You heard her shift on the lounge chair. “I am, however, interested in Azriel’s.” 

“Aren’t we all,” Cassian droned. “Pretty obvious that he doesn't have one at the moment. Hasn’t had one in a while.” 

You felt your neck jolt at the reveal of that information. Azriel always kept his partners discrete, but you’d always known he’d had them. Many of them. You had no idea who they were or where he met them, but you would hear the girls occasionally... smell their perfume on a few rare nights. 

“You think? This whole time?” Mor asked, curiosity raising her voice an octave. 

“Mor, I think the sight of other females makes him want to vomit.” 

The book in your lap was all but obsolete. 

“Don’t be so dramatic.” 

Cassian tsked. “I’m not. He’s told me.” 

“I suppose that’s what having a mate does to a person.” 

Your fingers became abnormally cold, the center of your chest caving slightly.

Azriel had a mate? No, he would have told you.

He would have told you. 

Mor’s sweet voice slammed against your ears, harsh despite its nature. “Do you think he’ll tell her soon?” 

Cassian’s reply had you standing on shaking knees. “Hope so. He’s so in love with her it's suffocating. You should see when—” 

You were out of the room in a wisp, sliding out the small back door. The book you’d been reading was still clutched in your frozen grip and you held it against your chest as breathing became impossible. With a hand pressed to the wall and your head hung low, you sucked in air, greedy for some type of reprieve. 

You were happy for him. You were so, so happy for him. 

Right? 

The book fell from your grip, clattering to the floor. The pages collapsed in on themselves as it fell face down, and you listened to the paper crumple as your throat closed. Both hands now pressed to the cold wall. Why were you freezing? 

This made sense. It made sense. 

Of course Azriel had a mate and of course it was… Elain? 

No, it couldn’t be Elain. Elain was Lucien’s mate. 

Now you were confused as well as consumed. Your body was left aching from training and your mind was in a frenzy and you couldn’t even understand why you were reacting the way you were. 

It was completely plausible that Azriel had a mate and didn’t tell anyone about it. He was a private male who kept his lovers to himself, so of course he would keep his mate to himself as well. But he did tell someone about it. He told Cassian. And Mor knew. 

Your fingernails dug into stone.

Azriel didn’t love you. 

The thought came on so suddenly that you almost looked over your shoulder. It was as if the words had been whispered in your ear by some cruel, vicious wind. 

You had never cared if Azriel loved you before, because you knew that he did love you. Like a sister. You were Azriel’s family and he was yours. 

But as the thought of Azriel having a mate invaded your mind once more, your shaky legs propelled you forward, running from the creased book and the hallway that contained all of the worst things. 

You ran until you couldn't, until your toes hit the edge of the balcony on the far side of the house and the cool air of winter hit your cheeks. You had been so cold inside, but somehow the breeze felt even colder across your skin. 

“Y/n?” 

You gasped, whipping around and gripping the railing as it pressed into your spine. You couldn’t formulate words as Azriel stood before you. His hands raised up to his waist, reaching for you as he took in the way your chest heaved.

“What’s happened? What’s wrong?” he rushed. 

You only shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. Embarrassment and confusion and a twisted sort of fear coursed through you. You couldn't look at him, afraid you would somehow see the bond connected to his chest—somehow notice things about him you hadn’t before. Maybe another shade of hazel in his eyes or a softness to his lips that you had never looked for. 

As you considered it now, it was obvious that you’d never let yourself look. 

Azriel was never supposed to be yours. 

“Talk to me, angel.” Azriel’s sweet whisper brushed against your skin. He was so close to you. You could feel him, but you refused to look. 

To see how everything had changed. 

“Let me fix it.” 

You heard the rush of wind from his wings as he expanded them outwards, followed closely behind by the whirling of his shadows, and it all clicked then. 

The images came quickly, dissipating just as fast. But they did their job, sending heavy, hot tears past the tight scrunch of your eyelids. 

Azriel with Elain. Azriel with Mor. Azriel with random, faceless women.

Him, in every iteration, with everyone that wasn’t you. 

That’s what had kept you up—the dreams plaguing your every resting moment. And you realized then that nothing had really changed at all. That you’d been in love with Azriel for longer than you’d been in love with anything. 

Your jaw trembled, your body rejecting the anguish that swept through you. Wind softly flowed from the west, swaying your skirts with a gentleness that made your breath shudder. That kind of gentleness was impossible. The world felt so cruel. 

“Y/n, tell me what happened. Should I get someone else?” Azriel pleaded. “Should I get Rhys?” 

Rhys could knock you out, and that would surely be a relief. You felt paralyzed by this overwhelming array of devastation. But Rhys would also have access to your thoughts. 

You shook your head. “No,” you said, but the word was lost in the wind. Azriel seemed to hear it anyway. “No, I want—I need to—go to sleep.” 

“You need to go to sleep?” He touched you now, something he seemed to have been avoiding. His hands came to rest behind your neck, thumbs at your jaw, and you pried your eyes open at the contact. You’d never seen the shadowsinger look so ruined, his hair askew, his eyes wild and panicked. “That doesn’t make any sense.” 

His expression was beseeching you for something you couldn’t give him. You hiccuped your next words out. 

“I’m—’m tired.” 

You wished you’d stayed oblivious. That you had never become privy to the depth of your feelings. 

This pain was immeasurable.

[fum1ku]

LOVE TROPES - HQ BOYS

ft. osamu miya, daichi sawamura, kei tsukishima, keishin ukai, atsumu miya

should i be working on the highly requested pt. 2 to my recent works that’s currently sitting in my drafts? yes. should i also probably be working on the few requests i’ve got in my inbox? also yes. am i still over here writing whatever this is instead of doing those things? absolutely. at least i’m writing something!

OSAMU: friends to lovers.

you had been friends with the miya twins since high school. you had always butt heads with atsumu; bickering back and forth about anything and everything. but it was different with osamu. it felt like you both understood each other, in a way. plus the mutual dislike you both had for atsumu definitely helped. and now, nearly 8 years later, your friendship was still going strong.

well past 8pm, you stood over the front counter at onigiri miya with samu cleaning behind the counter for closing, and atsumu sitting at a stool next to you.

“i don’t know what his problem is! we go out for drinks one night, wind up at his place, and then the next day he can’t even be bothered to send me a single fucking text. seriously. i’m done!” you were going on about your.. most recent boyfriend.

“why don’tcha just dump him then?” atsumu offered, his mouth full of the onigiri osamu had made for him.

“atsumu, you’re disgusting! and i can’t because we aren’t even a thing! which is good—i don’t want us to be.”

osamu laughed at you two from behind the counter.

“okay well then what’s the problem! i don’t understand you women,” atsumu exclaimed, licking off the last bits of onigiri form his fingertips and shoving his plate behind the counter. “i’ve got practice tomorrow. so i’m gone. some of us actually have real problems that aren’t centered around one night stands with guys!”

“oh right, atsumu, like your sex life is any better,” you muttered. the door slammed shut behind him as the bell above the door exhibierst through the building.

you sighed, sinking further into your chair.

“here,” osamu slid a plate towards you. “might make ‘ya feel better. plus i need feedback to see if it’s worth addin’ to the menu.”

you smiled. “thanks, osamu. and yeah, i’ll give good feedback, promise!”

osamu smiled to himself as he wiped down the back counter. yeah, sure, after 8 years of pining he was no closer to asking you out. but, no matter what, he’d always be here to make you food whenever another boy made you cry.

DAICHI: love at first sight.

it had been a long practice and daichi had decided to treat everyone to a snack down at sakanoshita. daichi stood with suga and asahi waiting for the 1st and 2nd years to finish grabbing their fill. tanaka and noya had seen daichi paying as an opportunity to grab whatever they wanted.

“c’mon you guys!” suga yelled from across the store. “we don’t have all day!”

it has been a long day of classes for you, so it wasn’t even an option in your mind whether you should stop at the convenience store or not. only now you had found yourself in your own little debate.

“milk tea.. or coffee?” you mumbled to yourself. you were bent down over the drinks section taking your sweet time.

daichi turned around to see you and knew he was gone right then and there.

suga scoffed at the two 2nd years taking their time, only to turn back and find daichi’s gaze focused on you.

“hey, daichi, maybe we should—” he started, but stopped as soon as he noticed daichi staring. he whispered to asahi and they both began berating their poor captain.

“c’mon, dude! why don’t you just go talk to them? we obviously have the time!” suga nudged at his arm.

daichi denied anything. “hey, i don’t even now what you’re talking about, suga! we’re here for snack for the team, just go focus on that.”

“hey, don’t we go to school with them? y/n l/n. class 2, i think,” asahi piped up. he couldn’t remember where exactly he knew you from, though.

daichi was sure if he had gone to school with you, he’d remember.

“they’re in photography club! that’s how i know them! they asked me to join after i dropped out of volleyball,” asahi recalled, loud enough to grab your attention.

you looked up to find the set of 3rd years staring in your direction. your drink in hand, you made your way up to them.

“azumane, right? nice to see you again!” you beamed.

“y-yeah, right! good to see you too, l/n,” he smiled, nervously.

“are you guys in line?” you questioned.

“no—no we’re not! sorry about that!” daichi apologized, moving to the side to allow you to get to the register.

you placed your drink on the counter, making small talk with the guy at the front register.

“c’mon, daichi! if you don’t ask them before they leave you might not get to again!” suga whispered.

“suga, let it go. it’s too strange—they don’t even know me.”

suga shoved daichi forward just as you turned around to make your way towards the door.

“oh! hi!” you mused.

“s-sorry. hi.. again.”

“sawamura, right? you’re the captains of the volleyball team!” you smiled.

“yeah, i am. and you’re l/n, right? asahi was telling me about you. you’re in photography.

“i am, actually! and please, just call me y/n!”

“then just call me daichi!”

first name basis after 10 minutes? way to go daichi!

“actually..” you started. “i was wondering if it’d be possible for me to take some action shots of the volleyball team? i was going to use them for an upcoming project of mine. of course if not, that’s okay too! you probably need to talk it over with the team.”

“yeah—absolutely! i’ll have to talk it over with everyone, but i don’t see it being a problem at all,” he said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “what class are you in? i can talk to you some time next week to figure out what day would work best.”

“here,” you said, turning around to the man behind the counter. “excuse me, do you have a pen i could borrow?”

the man tossed you a pen, not giving a second look to you from behind his magazine. you pulled out daichi’s arm and started scribbling down numbers.

your.. phone number?

“now you can call me, that’ll be easier!” you smiled. “anyways, i gotta run. see you later, daichi. tell azumane i said bye too!”

he was speechless. did he really manage to get your number without even trying?

suga ran up behind him. “dude! how? you hardly said anything to them!”

“wow, daichi’s got skills with the ladies!” tanaka mused, noya trailing behind them. their arms were stacked full with all kinds of snacks.

he was definitely not paying for all of those.

KEI: academic rivals to lovers.

you worked at the library at the university you attended. tsukishima had seen you around campus a few times. yamaguchi would go as far as to describe you as tsukishima’s “campus crush”—which tsukki of course denied. he hardly even knew you.

but, this semester is when things finally got interesting. you had wound up taking the course tsukishima was the TA for.

you were currently bent down behind a bookshelf in the campus library, organizing the books that needed to be put away. you noticed a hand grab a book off your cart.

you stood up. “anything you need help finding?”

“no,” the man stated, blankly.

you examined the book in his hand. “wait. are you in psych 301? haven’t seen you in there before.”

“kei tsukishima. i’m the assistant in that class this semester.”

“oh! i’m y/n l/n. are you reading that book for fun then, or?”

“i know. i graded your last essay. something about the human consciousness or whatever,” he stated, pushing his glasses to the bridge of his nose.

your face went hot. “oh? so you were the one that gave me a B- on that. that was the best paper i’ve written all semester!”

“yeah, only because you can’t write any better ones. and maybe actually read the syllabus before you join the class,” he deadpanned.

“okay, mr. know-it-all. and for what it’s worth, i did in fact read the syllabus.”

“well if you actually paid attention, then you’d know this book was meant to be read alongside the other materials.”

wait. what?

before you could say another word, he placed the book back down in the cart. “my email is on the syllabus if you’d actually care to read it. good luck actually passing the class.”

you were so going to find that syllabus. and you were definitely doing to pass that class.

KEISHIN: second chance.

stepping foot into sakanoshita after years felt like a dream. but seeing keishin, your high school boyfriend, sitting there behind the counter, was what really sent you back.

“keishin?”

ukai actually took the time to look up form his magazine, and he was glad he did. “y/n?”

“keishin!” you smiled. “i didn’t realize you family still owned the place!”

he stood up form his seat behind the counter. “yeah! work here part-time, coach volleyball the other half.

“you coach volleyball? does the old ukai not coach anyone then?”

“nah, old man retired last year. still coaches a few younger kids on the side. but, hey, how have you been? it’s been years since i last saw you in miyagi. 4? 5, maybe?”

“yeah,” you sighed. “it’s definitely been awhile. but life has been great in tokyo. my internship finally ended and so i’m back here for the next month or two!”

“really? you got to let me take you out sometime—drinks, to celebrate.”

you felt the slight rush of heat to your cheeks. “r-right! of course!”

“hey, if you wanted, we close in less than an hour. you could wait here till then, catch up, then let me take you out for drinks.”

“alright,” you smiled, taking a seat behind the counter next to ukai. “tell me about your team then. where do you coach? karasuno?”

you felt like you were 16 all over again. just him and you.

ATSUMU: opposites attract.

you were the promotional manager for the msby black jackals. everyone on the team loved you—yes, even sakusa. though he wouldn’t admit it. but, atsumu being the sly guy he is, took every opportunity to flirt with you. of course, keeping things professional, you shut him down every chance you got. plus, it would never work. ever. you knew that.

he was childish, you were mature—top of your office only a few months in. he was selfish half the time, and he’d always describe you as one of the most thoughtful people he’s ever met. he was confident and bold. you were quiet and reserved, at least time him. so when you find yourself alone with him at the gym one night late after practice, going through your binder of advertising ideas, you didn’t know what to make of it. the way you could feel he eyes focused on you and only you drove you insane.

you finally took a break form your rant about new promotional ideas for the team, leaving a heavy silence between the two of you.

“y/n?” he finally said, breaking for silence.

“yeah, atsumu?” you respond, not looking up form your binder.

“you should let me take ‘ya out. i mean it.”

you quietly gasped to yourself.

sure, atsumu had made pass after pass at you every day for the last few months since you started working with the team. but, this time, he sounded so.. genuine.

what’s even worse is you couldn’t help yourself from the words the escape your lips in the last moment.

“okay.”

© fum1ku 2024.

⁂ taglist: @chloiyoomi @eashn + let me know if you want to be added! 💌

[skbeaumont]

Just a Graze | Joel x Reader oneshot

One-shot Joel/Reader. Previously posted in two parts but thought I'd make a masterpost for this one.

Summary: Joel comes back injured, and while you patch him up the tension that's been building for several months threatens to break.

Tags/warnings: dirty talk, explicit content, language, injury detail (not explicit), MDNI, sexual tension, PIV, oral (F receiving), FILTH

Word Count: 4.3k

Joel’s bleeding when he gets back. The screen door clatters shut behind him, wire shuddering against the wood, and you look up from the table. His face is set, a solid frown painted across his features – nothing unusual – but there’s a downward turn to his mouth that you recognise as a pained expression. He steps in and leans against the counter, one hand on the warped wood, the other pressed against his shoulder. Blood seeps through his fingers, clotting around his knuckles, staining his jacket red.

“I’m okay,” he says as you spring up from your place at the dusty kitchen table, “it’s just a graze.”

“Bullet?” You ask, ignoring his attempts to wave off your concern.

“Barbed wire,” he says, letting you lead him further into the cabin, toward the misshapen couch, “stupid mistake, I didn’t see it.”

The shotgun clatters onto the floor at his feet as he collapses onto the couch with a groan. He doesn’t protest as you pull his fist away from the wound, your hand warm against his wind-chilled fingers. The cut isn’t deep, but the wire has torn through his jacket and shirt down to the flesh of his shoulder, leaving a jagged cut that’s oozing blood.

“You must be getting old,” you say, standing to search through your pack for the first aid kit, “your eyes are going as well as your ears.”

“Ain’t nothing wrong with my eyes. Or my ears.”

“Sorry?”

“I said, there-” he notices your grin, the glint of mischief in your eye. He sighs heavily. “You’re a damn pain in my ass.”

You huff out a laugh and pull a kitchen chair across to sit opposite him. You open the first aid kit – which is really no more than a small washbag stuffed with a bottle of Lysol and a handful of bandages – on your lap, pull out the disinfectant and start unscrewing the cap. “Can you take your jacket off?” You ask, and he nods, starts unzipping it and pulling it off of his uninjured arm. He winces a little as he peels it past his bad shoulder, shakes it down his arm and lays it over his lap, frowning at the gash in the fabric.

“I can patch that up when we get back to Jackson.” You say.

“Ain’t going back ‘til we’ve something to bring back.” He replies, and now it’s your turn to sigh.

“We’ve got two deer and a whole family of rabbits, Joel. There’s nothing else out here for us to get.”

“We both saw that clinic complex, and I ain’t arguing with you about this again. Winter’s well on its way, and we need as much medicine as we can get to make it through. I almost got in today – would have, if I hadn’t got caught on that damned barbed wire. We’ll both go back tomorrow.”

He fixes you with a hard stare, one that makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, though whether it’s through fear or something else, you’re not sure. You’ve been partnering up for a couple of months now, going out on hunts and supply runs, growing slowly closer over long hikes and cold nights camping out under the stars.

At first, he intimidated you. He was cold, harsh; a solid bulk of a man who never smiled and rarely spoke, except to tell you to keep your voice down or stop walking so loudly. But then, gradually, he’d started loosening up around you. A few weeks ago he’d cracked a smile at a joke you’d made – something stupid about a bird in a tree, the kind of joke your dad used to make when you were a kid – and then that smile had grown into a deep chuckle a couple of days later, and then a conversation, whispered and illusive, under a starry sky last week.

This latest trip outside Jackson had been the most enjoyable yet, conversation flowing easily between you, and you were starting to suspect that the strange swooping feeling in your stomach that arose each time he looked at you, or bumped against you as you walked had a lot less to do with how intimidating he could be, and a lot more to do with him.

Now, locking eyes with him over the opened bottle of Lysol, his eyes dark and with an argument boiling up between you, that feeling blossoms into something hot and delicious, stirring a fire in your belly that makes you bold.

“From where I’m sat,” you say, tipping the bottle of Lysol so that the disinfection pours out onto a clean swab, “you don’t seem to have much choice about what we’re doing next. You’re hurt, and I need to patch you up, so stop arguing and take your shirt off.”

He opens his mouth to argue but shuts it again, eyes flicking up to your face. A hint of red creeps up his neck, settling high on his cheeks, tinging them scarlet in the low light of the cabin. You keep glaring at him. He lets out a long breath through his nose and moves to unbutton his shirt. The shirt is old, vintage, even – probably older than you – with mismatched buttons and a crumpled, frayed look. It comes apart easily, Joel’s fingers working down the buttons nimbly until he reaches the bottom. He pauses there, looks up at your face. You look away, because heat is creeping up your own neck now, hot and unbridled, as he pushes the shirt off of his shoulders and lets it fall open onto the couch behind him.

After his dark eyes, the most notable thing about Joel is his stature. He’s tall, and broad enough to fill any room he’s in. You’ve seen him lift grown men like they weigh nothing, watched him pick up a dead deer and throw it over one shoulder without so much as a stumble. Last month you went out on horseback to scope a potential hunting ground, and, sitting behind him in the saddle, you couldn’t see anything past the triangular bulk of his shoulders, your hands clasped easily around his waist. So, yeah, you know he’s strong, could tell anyone that the man is built. But when you look at him in the half-light with his shirt off, uncovered by layers of leather or plaid, the sight still sends blood rushing to your face.

His shoulders are broad, curving into thick biceps that tense as he raises a hand to scratch, self-consciously, at the back of his neck. There are small scars littering his chest, running down in narrow white slices to his belly, which is softer than the rest of him, sloping and scattered with coarse hair that continues below the buckle of his belt. You want to press your face into it, kiss the contours of his bellybutton and the plains of his chest, up to the juncture of his throat, which bobs as he swallows, eyes shifting to catch yours.

“You gonna patch me up or just stare?” He asks, and there’s something teasing in his voice, something that causes heat and slick to pool in between your thighs. “I- you’ve got a lot of scars.” You say, stupidly, tipping more Lysol onto the cloth you’re holding.

“Had a lot of run-ins with barbed wire.” He replies, the words turning to a hiss when you press the wet cloth to the cut on his shoulder.

“Should be more careful.”

“Now where would the fun be in that, darlin’?”

Oh, that’s new. You’ve heard him call Ellie pet names before, laughed when she rolls her eyes and shirks away from his affections, all fifteen years old and too cool to be coddled. But he’s never called you anything but your name – never so much as shortened it to a nickname like almost everyone else does. You flick your gaze from his wound to his face. His eyes are dark, expression unreadable, but the intensity of his gaze makes you look away, cheeks reddening. You pull the cloth away from his arm and start wrapping a clean bandage around his shoulder.

“Sorry,” he says, after a pause. “I forget, sometimes. Recently.”

“Forget what?”

“That you’re young enough to be my-” He cuts himself off here, “that you’re a hell of a lot younger’n I am.”

This makes you laugh out loud, a huff of breath exhaled. You’re still opposite each other, him on the sofa, knees spread wide, you in the kitchen chair. If you inched forward only slightly your own legs would be between his.

“Old days I’d have been old enough to drink and drive, and more than old enough to flirt, Joel.”

“That what you want? You want me to flirt with you?” His voice is low, almost a whisper.

You shrug and hold his gaze. “I think it’s what you want too. I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I can’t see you.”

You have. He thinks he’s being discrete, but you’ve seen how his eyes linger on your legs, how he can’t help but drop his gaze to your chest when you wear something low cut. A few weeks ago you’d seen him adjust himself in his jeans when you stripped down to your underwear to bathe in a stream you’d come across after two days out searching for supplies.

“And how’s that?” He asks. You have to hold yourself back from leaning forward and kissing the worried crease of his mouth.

“Like you’re a man dying of thirst and I’m an oasis.”

He scoffs at that. “Shoulda been a writer, sweetheart.”

“And how does this story end?”

“Ends with you walking away from me like you should’ve months ago. This,” he flicks a finger at himself and then you, “ain’t happening.”

“Why not? You want it, I want it. I don’t see what the problem is.”

“Problem is,” he slides his arms off the sofa, reaching back to pull his shirt back up over his shoulders, “you think you know what you want, but you don’t.” He starts buttoning the shirt, fixing you with a stern look. “Trust me.”

He tries to stand but you put your hands on his knees, holding him in place.

“No way,” You say, your heart thumping in your chest, “you don’t get to decide what I do or don’t want.”

“What do you want? You want me to fuck you? Want me to spread your pretty little legs out across this couch and make you come on my tongue?”

Yes. God, yes.

“What if I do? What if that’s exactly what I want you to do?” You slide your hands further up his legs, holding him down on the couch. If he wanted to, he could push you off easily, but he doesn’t. When your fingertips reach the tops of his thighs he slides his hands over your wrists and pins them where they are, stopping you moving any higher.

“Find someone your own age, sweetheart. Someone whose knees don’t creak when the stand up. Someone who can make you happy.” And then he’s standing up, moving your hands off of him with ease, stepping around you in the kitchen chair to stride to the other side of the room, the tension collapsing in on itself as he tells you to get some sleep, that there’s more work to do tomorrow.

*****

The next morning brings rain. It hammers against the walls of the cabin and drips in through the leaky roof. Joel stands at the window, one hand on his hip, silently looking out at the downpour.

“Tell me you’re not considering going out in this?” You say, moving up behind him to peer out at the lashing rain.

“Might ease up later.” He says, turning to face you. “There’s enough to do in here to keep us occupied, anyway.”

“Guns?” You ask.

“Guns.” He agrees.

Joel’s fanatical about keeping the guns clean and working. It makes sense, you suppose. You don’t know much about his past, about how he and Ellie ended up in Jackson, but what you’ve heard, the snippets Ellie’s confided in you over quiet conversations, makes for grim listening. To Joel, those guns mean the difference between life and death.

And so you both sit at the kitchen table, meticulously cleaning Joel’s shotgun and your pistol, passing cloths and gun oil between you. You make casual conversation as you go, neither of you touching on the events of the previous evening. After he dismissed you last night you’d gone straight to bed, tucked yourself into the dusty single bed in the bedroom while Joel took the couch. Your dreams had been hazy and pleasant, and you’d woken up flushed.

You’re sliding the magazine back into your pistol when Joel jumps and swears, pulling his hand back from where he’s trapped his finger in the loading mechanism of the shotgun. A tiny bead of blood wells up and spills over his fingertip and he sighs heavily. You reach out and take his hand in yours to examine the cut. It's tiny - you've seen paper-cuts do more damage - but Joel's frowning like he's in pain.

“You’ve gotta stop being so clumsy.” You say.

“I’m not clumsy.” He replies, letting you turn his hand in yours, watching you watch his thick fingers, take in the breadth of his knuckles.

“No?”

“No. It’s-”

You're not sure what makes you do it - maybe it's frustration still boiling over from yesterday, maybe it's the way Joel looks at you as you clasp his large hand in your own smaller one -  but before he can finish speaking you pull his arm across the table and wrap your lips around his finger. You snake your tongue over the pad of the digit and the noise he makes then - a breathy, broken groan - sends fire surging through you, heat coiling between your thighs.

“Distraction.” He finishes.

When you pull your mouth away and place a wet kiss to the palm of his hand, he slides his fingers across your jaw and up into the mess of your hair. His hand is hot against your scalp, curving around the back of your neck, leading you forward so that he can fit his mouth against yours across the table.

Pleasure flutters out from the pull of his fingers in your hair, and his lips are soft and dry until he opens his mouth to you, guiding your tongue into his mouth, pressing his into yours. It’s slow at first. Tentative, as though he’s waiting for you to push him away. But you’ve never wanted anything more, and when you moan against his lips he stands, bracketing your face with both hands to pull you up from your own chair.

It’s a messy walk backwards from the table. You bump against the broken coffee table, pull away from his mouth to curse and rub your shin, but then he’s falling back onto the couch, pulling you down into his lap so that your thighs are bracketing his legs.

You pause like that, looking at each other, both breathless and dazed, lips bruised.

“This what you want?” He asks again, placing his hand at your jaw gently. His fingers are thick, hand so large that his thumb rests at your temple and while his index finger sits under your chin.

“I want you, Joel. Please.”

When he kisses you again, it’s hungry and animalistic. All pretence of hesitation is gone. He presses his mouth to your throat, lets his teeth scrape the delicate skin below your ear.

“This is still a bad idea.” He says, voice breaking when you roll your hips against his. ”Shit.”

“Please, Joel.” Your voice sounds tiny, shrill to your own ears, desperate and pathetic, but Joel bites at the juncture of your neck and it doesn’t matter, nothing matters except the feel of his hands on your hips, guiding you against him, pulling your clothed cunt against where he’s impossibly hard in his jeans.

“I’m gonna take this off.” He says, pulling at your shirt, tugging it up over your head. “And this.” He runs a hand over your covered tit, pinches your nipple beneath the thin fabric of your bra, rolls it between his finger and thumb while his other hand slides up your back and unclasps it. It falls between you, forgotten immediately.

“Fuck, darlin’, look at you.” He says, running the knuckle of his index finger over the swell of your chest, down along your ribs and across one hip. He lets his hand fall away, brings it back up to the side of your face, pulls your lips back to his and drags your bottom lip into his mouth with his teeth.

Pain and pleasure blossom through you, make you scrabble at the buttons of his shirt, fingers shaking as you try and get them undone. He helps, slides the shirt off of his back, careful where his shoulder is still sore. He balls it up and casts it across the room, then grips your hips and lifts you, turning you onto your back on the sofa, pressing himself between your open thighs. The change in angle presses the seam of your jeans against your clit, a jolt of pleasure rocking through you.

“You ever done this before?” He asks, hovering over you, dipping down to press a chaste kiss against your collarbone.

“I ain’t that innocent, Joel.” You reply, gasping when he pulls your nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth. “Have you?”

This earns you a deep chuckle, a hushed whisper against the back of your neck, “I’ve been doing this since before you were born, baby.”

And, fuck, that shouldn’t turn you on so much but it does. It has your hips lifting up, seeking out friction. Joel notices and slides down your body, dropping onto his knees on the floor. He runs one hand up the inside of your thigh, presses his thumb expertly against your covered clit.

“I’m gonna take these off now, and then you’re gonna come on my tongue. That sound okay?”

You nod, voice lost as he undoes the button on your jeans and pulls them down in one motion, pushing them away in the direction of his discarded shirt.

“Look how wet you are for me already.” He glides two fingers over the front of your soaked underwear, up to the waistband to hook them off.

And then he leans forward, presses light kisses up your thighs until he reaches your cunt. He pauses, blows a cool strip of air against you that has you trying to close your legs, but his hands are there, pinning them open for him. When he seals his lips over your clit and drags his tongue over it you thread your fingers through his hair, pull at the black-grey strands. You squeeze your eyes shut but he pulls away, chastises you gently.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.” His voice is like molten chocolate, rich and dark, pulling you back so that you gaze down at him.

He swipes his tongue over your slit, gathers the slick that’s pooling there. He’s like a man possessed, eyes dark, hair standing up on end from where you’ve run your hands through it, cursing and moaning as he slides his tongue over your clit, starting up a firm and consistent rhythm that has you bucking against him. His hands are gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises, his forearms corded with muscle, biceps flexing up to those impossibly broad shoulders.

“You gonna come on my tongue?” He asks, hardly breaking away from you to grunt out the question.

“Yes, Joel, fuck, please.” You can’t seem to form a coherent sentence, can hardly force yourself to keep your eyes on him where he kneels between your thighs like you’re an altar and he’s a lonely priest begging for repentance. It’s this thought – the idea of him worshipping you, tongue lapping over your clit, his eyes blazing with lust – that tips you over the edge. Your cunt clenches around nothing, body wracked with pleasure as you come, hard, on his tongue. He grins into your cunt as he feels you come apart against him, continues pressing sloppy, wet kisses to your pussy as you come down from the high, limbs shaking. When you finally push him away, overly sensitive and buzzing with pleasure, he rocks back on his heels, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Your pleasure is painted across his face, his greying stubble wet with your slick.

He crawls back up onto the couch between your thighs, dips his head to kiss you. You taste yourself on his lip; on his tongue when he sweeps it against the back of your teeth, heady and sweet. He presses himself against you, drags the front of his jeans over your bare skin. The buckle of his belt catches against your bare stomach and you hiss into his mouth, reach down to unbuckle it. It comes off easily, falls to the floor with a dull thud, and then you slip your fingers through the buttons of his jeans, undo them quickly, desperate to get them off. He stands briefly, pushes them the rest of the way down his thick thighs and then kneels back between your legs. Immediately you slide your hand into the waistband of his briefs. He feels like velvet wrapped around steel, hot and delicious in your fist. He groans into your mouth as you palm him desperately, sliding delicate skin over the head of him, feathering the pad of your thumb against his slit. When you draw his cock out you break away from his needy mouth to look. He’s big: thick, curving slightly to the left, head already weeping precum.

“Fist feels so good wrapped around my cock, sweetheart.” He tells you, “You gonna let me fuck you?”

It’s the easiest yes you’ve ever given. He chuckles darkly at your needy reply, pushes his briefs the rest of the way off and wraps his own fist around his cock. He slides himself over your cunt, coating himself in your juices. Then he’s notching the blunt head of his cock against your entrance, sucking in a breath as he pushes in gently, slowly, stretching you out deliciously.

“Good girl,” He murmurs, easing himself deeper, feeling you flex and clench around him, “good fucking girl.”

He stills when he’s fully seated inside you, sucks at a spot under your jaw that makes you gasp with pleasure, runs one big palm up your body to paw at your breast, trying to collect himself, twitching inside you with the effort of staying still.

“Cunt’s so goddamn tight, baby.” His voice is broken, pitchy and breathy against your ear.

You run your hands over his back, feeling out the breadth of his shoulders, the thin scars that lace across them, his muscles bunching and flexing beneath your fingers when he finally – finally – starts to move inside you, rocking his hips into yours, dragging himself all the way out and then gliding back in. The head of his cock hits something inside you that sends white hot pleasure jolting through your belly. The cabin is silent now – the rain has stopped – the only sounds are your frantic breathing and low, breathy moans, and Joel’s whispered praises as he rocks against you.

Good girl, so fucking good for me, letting me fuck you like this, cunt so tight around me, could come just thinking about it.

It’s dirty and sloppy and fucking incredible. The power you’ve seen him exert on infected and drunkards and raiders suddenly coiled over you, his muscles pulling you taunt against him when he changes the angle, sits up, pulls you with him so that you’re riding him, his cock somehow buried deeper in your cunt, your thighs bracketing him. You can feel yourself growing closer to release again, pleasure notching up in your belly like fire spreading. Joel shifts slightly again, makes space for his hand to come between you, places his thumb against your clit and presses, draws out slow, gentle circles that match the pace of his thrusts.

“Need my thumb on you clit while my cock’s buried inside you, sweetheart? Gonna come again just like this, huh? Dirty fucking girl.”

His words are like fuel on the fire and within seconds you’re moaning and shaking, cunt clenching around him as you come, harder than before, on his cock. Joel fucks you through it, keeps the steady pressure on your clit.

“Gonna make me come in this tight little pussy,” He says, and you know you shouldn’t, know you should make him pull out, but he feels so good inside you that you grind down on him telling him yes, please, fist your hands into his hair to pull his mouth against yours. The kiss is desperate and messy, all teeth and tongue. He hisses into your mouth as you buck your hips and drive them down on him, and then he’s swearing, fingers digging hard into your hips.

"Jesus, you feel so fucking good, baby, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna- shit.” He pulses inside you, painting your cunt with his come, hot and wet inside you.

You continue rocking against each other, slowly, coming down from the high. When he slides out of you and shifts away the old sofa groans out in protest, springs creaking. It makes you laugh, breathless, racking laughter than drives away the sudden realisation of what you’ve just done, of how you’ve indelibly changed the way you look at each other, the relationship between you.

“That was… fucking hell, Joel, that was incredible.”

He’s looking at you sideways, his hair still a mess, stubble still coated with your slick. He’s naked and vulnerable and you think it might just be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. When he leans across to slot his lips against yours you grin against him, trying not to think about what happens next.

[heyhihellosworld]

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

Carlos Sainz x reader

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Smut, feeling guilty about sexual thoughts, age gap, I think that's it?

Notes: Heyyy, Carlos??? Hope I read this request right! Probably changed it a bit. This is more from Carlos perspective than anything else

Request Don't know if you are taking any requests or not, but how's best friend brother's with Carlos Sainz when suddenly having ons with the reader and Carlos been wondering how having her in his bed

Pt 2 here

Carlos breathed in the familiar hot air as he stepped out of his car and onto the gravel of his family home. He had finally touched down on home ground and planned to spend the majority of his summer break here.

He smiled to himself as he watched the big house and the green grass. He loved this house, he loved their summers and he was excited to spend some down time with his family.

Ana and y/n should be there already, Blanca maybe but she could also arrive later. His parents weren't home, he knew that already but they would come in an hour or so.

Someone was home at least judging by the open porch door and small talk coming from the other side of the deck.

Carlos walked over the grass, trying to see who was there but he opted to take in his bags first. He had just stepped into the big hallway when he saw a figure from the big window. Ana was there and.. who was that? All he could see was a beautiful woman, hair moving in the wind and a beautiful figure on the deck. Carlos swallowed before moving away, it was rude to stare.

Who was that? Was that.. no it couldn't be Y/n, could it? But who else would be here to stay for the summer. It was always Y/n.

Carlos' mind ran on high speed as he tried to process who else it could be because this was certainly not the Y/n he remembered. No, last summer you had been this, very cute sure, but nerdy little girl who had barely graduated school and was now working at the downtown café whilst studying in university.

You had always been sweet and cute but he had never ever seen you as attractive. No this, this was surely someone else. Maybe one of Blankas work-friends. It could not be you.

Carlos forced the thoughts away as he marveled into the house, his house. It was hot, summer and he was settling for some downtime before the next part of the season began, that was the focus he reminded himself of.

He opted to start on food, eyes flickering back to the garden to try and get a look at whoever it was out there but they had disappeared from the kitchen view. Maybe that was for the better actually.

"Carlos!"Carlos flinched at the sound of his name, too deep in thoughts to realize someone had entered the open kitchen from the patio-doors in the living room.

He turned around with a wide smile as he recognized your voice opening his arms to hug you which you welcomed with a giggle.

His face fell however when he looked at you after you had stepped away. What the fuck had happened over winter?

The before young, teenage-looking girl had really grown into a young looking sure, but gorgeous woman. Face more mature-looking, smile as captivating as always and your body. Carlos had to force himself to look at your face as you were dressed down in only a small skirt and a bikini-top from having been sunbathing and swimming all morning.

Fuck it was you, how?

He quickly averted his eyes from your body to look at your face

"Hola Y/n" he smiled warmly as you hugged him in greeting. "We thought you came but we didn't see you" you smiled as you watched the counter top that was filled with ingredients. "Sorry, I planned on going out but..."

That Ana came out was perfect timing because Carlos had no idea how to finish that sentence. "Carlos! Why didn't you come out to greet us?!" she scolded as she wrapped her brother into a warm hug, Carlos stuttered, what he wanted to say, or the reason for it was not something he wanted to say at all so instead he shrugged. "I was about too" he said instead , ignoring the look Ana gave him and the food on the counter.

Ana dropped it quickly, the excitement of seeing her brother taking over the weird behavior and she soon proceeded to ask him a million questions but it was all like usual with the Sainz siblings.

You were happy, content in stretching out on the sofa and listening to their chat during the evening and when the night came you gladly welcomed the soft bed in the Sainz's guest room.

-

Carlos wanted to hit the person of his family that had suggested a boat day. He loved being on the boat and he loved being with his family and the boat was a tradition in your summers. You used to take the boat out to a small little island only an hour away and spend the day swimming, laughing and grilling before going back home in the evening when the light had already gone away and the city lights illuminated in the water.

However the only thing he could concentrate on all day was you in your tiny little bikini that barely left anything to the imagination. If he was realistic it was a normal bikini, but it was still tiny and he could barely keep his eyes off of you.

When you had been exiting from the water with your hair drenched and dripping with a huge smile on your face he had stared so long that Blanca had hit him in the back of the head with a scolding look and Carlos had coughed, looking away feeling guilty.

It was a nice day, the sun grilling your skin and everyone was happy that summer had finally arrived. Carlos' parents grilled over the open fireplace as everyone settled down, chatting lowly and laughing.

He enjoyed it, laughing and joking with you and his sisters, chatting with his parents. Swimming in the hot sun. It was a great day but when the time came and you decked the boat and walked up to the villa Carlos felt like he would snap off the tension in his body.

-

He still couldn't really grasp it, couldn't grasp how attracted he suddenly was to you.

He groaned as he collapsed down on his bed, his head in an awkward position against the headboard. He let out an annoyed groan and flopped down in an ungraceful movement.

He felt annoyed, tight like a string as he tried to sit more comfortably. He was hard in his sweatpants and that annoyed him more than anything else. He felt ridiculous, like a teenage boy watching a pornmagazine for the first time. All this for only a little bikini, it was ridiculous but he couldn't help it, couldn't make it go away.

He closed his eyes, groaning when the only thing he saw in his head was just in that stupid little bikini. He couldn't help it when his hand crept down his body, his mind telling him it was wrong but the satisfaction he felt when he finally wrapped his hand around his cock pushed away all those thoughts until the only thing he could think about was dirty dreams.

At first the pictures were more okay, if there were something like this in picturing his sister's younger friend while jerking off.

It was you, in that bikini you had stropped around in all day, your smile and your elegant figure. Then it was your lips, then it morphed into your lips wrapped around his cock and from there on he was screwed.

He pictured how you would look as you sucked him off, he could picture the look in your eyes as you would’ve licked over his tip, he could almost hear the sounds you would make as he pushed your head that slight bit further.

He pictured laying you down on his crisp white sheets, pictured how he would pull your legs apart, could hear your moans in his head.

He could almost taste her on his tongue, see her face contorted in pleasure. His mind wandered further and further away from reality as his hand moved up and down his shaft. He would feel guilty, he would feel so guilty afterwards but right now, at this moment he only felt pleasure and his thoughts only added to his arousal.

It was wrong, he knew it, but he didn't feel it. It felt fucking amazing, the pictures, the imaginition he had made him harder than he'd been in a long time.

He pictured your face as he would fuck you, imagining how hot you would feel around him, how tight you would be. He pictured the sounds you would make as he made you orgasm, the picture stuck in his head as he finally released with a long groan, head falling back as the relief finally washed over him.

Only then did the realization hit and he felt disgusted over himself. The cum on his skin added to the sick feeling in his chest. It was not normal. It was disgusting. Jerking off to Ana's best friend who was many years younger than himself just because he'd find out she'd been growing curves. He felt a tight feeling in his stomach, like he would need to throw up. He hurried into the bathroom and jumped into the shower like he was on fire.

His skin was red where he had roughly scrubbed the cum of his skin and he felt slightly better when he dressed in clean clothes and shook the water off his hair. Maybe it was okay.

The guilt however came back full force once he saw you on the sofa with Blanca, gossiping and laughing. He had to look away to swallow the lump in his throat that had formed.

-

You were sprawled out in one of the outdoor chairs next to Blanca in the hot sun. You had just been taking a dip in the ocean and was now drying up on the big deck of the Sainz's house.

"Do you think Carlos has anything against me?" you asked Blanca randomly, noticing the way she jerked up in her chair to give you a wild look.

"Que?! Carlos loves you silly" she waved you off. Summer at Sainz, anything with the Sainz's had been always consisting in your life. You and Ana had met in kindergarten. She was two years older than you but somehow you had stuck together throughout school and then throughout adulthood. You had spent every summer since then here, in the amazing villa with her family. You had traveled with them, watched Carlos's races, you had been a part of them forever so maybe you understood her wild look but still. It had felt like something was bothering him these first couple of days. He had been acting slightly... stiff around you.

"I know... I don't know why but it's just.. he has been so awkward with me, barely spoken to me alone" you shrugged and Blanca hummed. "I think Carlos is having a bit of a crisis" Blanca grinned as she leant back in the soft chair

This time you sat up to give her a look. "What do you mean? Is something wrong with his racing?"

Blanca laughed and shook her head with a huge grin on her face. "No, not about racing" she calmed

"I think little Carlos is having a crisis about how gorgeous you have become" she smiled before adding "You have always been gorgeous, but over the winter..." she made a face expression as if to express the change and you giggled, it was true. You had matured in your body a lot over the winter, felt more comfortable, more secure.

"I don't think that's it though" you hummed, waving it off. Carlos was a formula one driver, he could basically chat up and model he wanted, and have the most gorgeous girls. He had many options, he would never choose you, his sister's friend.

"I think it is, I've catched him staring a bit too long and often. And every time I catch him with a slap on his head he looks extremely guilty"

You giggled at that, leaning back into the seat "I'm pretty happy with that reason to be honest" you smirked at Blanca who shook her head with a grin on her face "Watch it"

-

The next few days were fine, he still got a semi everytime you walked around in your mini bikinis and those shorts that showed all of your ass but he tried to control himself, felt he succeeded okay.

It was on the fourth day he snapped again. You had been taking a walk from the restaurant you had eaten at and stopped to buy ice cream and take a dip in the ocean.

You were yet again wearing only your bikini top and those tiny shorts that felt unnecessary to even have on because they didn't hide anything in Carlos's mind. Your hair was once again wet, dripping down your back and then it was the ice cream.

He knew it was just in his head, but it felt like you were provoking him, licking the tip of it in such a way he almost wanted to moan.

When he came back home he immediately walked up to his room and into the shower. He couldn't stop the images of going wild. Once again you were on the floor looking up at him with those big innocent eyes and licking the tip of his dick just as you had been the ice cream.

He could feel the tip of your tongue, could hear the small sound you surely would make at the taste of his precum that was pearling at his tip, he slid his thumb over it, imagining it was your tongue and he moaned loudly. He gripped his cock harder, slowly moving it down, imaging it was your mouth sinking down on him. The picture was so hot he jerked in his hold.

He sped up eventually, eyes closing to savor the filthy imaginations that were playing in his mind, like a slideshow. He could feel your touch, hear your voice and see you. It was all too much and he soon came over his hand, for the second time thinking about you.

He sighed as he let the water run down his body, cleaning him up and he let his head fall back against the tile. Maybe it was what it was. He would move on eventually, not get hard at the mere sight of you. It would be fine.

Carlos didn't fight it anymore, there was nothing he could do about his body's reaction. He sighed deeply and shrugged to himself. He lost the battle and he was really fucking attracted to you. Maybe that was just how it was now. 

[kushnovice]

Be Mine Again

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x ex! reader

Synopsis: Reader and Bucky have been broken up for a short time, fighting often and rarely seeing eye to eye. Bucky starts to fall into a bad mental space while a mission goes wrong.

wc: 2.8k

Warnings: fighting of all kinds, bucky being depressed and cold, angsty at the beginning, blood, choking, Zola being sadistic, not the best. if i made any mistakes please lmk :)

AN: Female reader, angst with little comfort (yet), lots of mistakes, self indulgent, it sucks but i had fun making it so i hope some people enjoy it. if so I'll write a part 2

"I broke my rules for you! I bended my morals for you, again! I had to change everything I believe in, yet again!" She yelled out at the tall and broad man in front of her as his hand tightened against his glass of ice water, jaw clenching.

The kitchen of the Avengers Tower was very cold and filled with tense air, thick enough to cut with a knife. Bucky deeply groaned as he placed his glass onto the table with a loud thud, "I never asked you to do that. I never asked you to care about me, you did that all yourself." Bucky's hand ran up into his hair showing how stressed out he is at the moment, he had never been one to enjoy fighting, actually he hated it. Almost as much as he hated her."Don't you care about me? About us?" She questioned with a huff as her arms swung to her hips. "Truth is," Bucky stood up, slowly walking toward her with each word, "I'm tired. So fucking tired of you that you always have been nothing more than an obligation." Bucky's lip raised in a scowl. The hurt was written on her face but immediately gone as she grumbled and pushed Bucky back by the chest. "I'm done helping you." She sucked in a breath, "Did it ever occur to you that your hurting me or are you just that selfish and arrogant?"

Before she could react, his glass that was once on the table was now shattering against the wall on the far side of the room as he stormed off quickly, slamming the door shut in the process. Bucky made his way through the winding hallways with his fists clenched tightly to the point his knuckles were white. He couldn't stand when she would act like this, after everything they had been through together, she had promised she would stay no matter what. She was always just like the others, except Bucky couldn't get her out of his mind.

Bucky swings open Steve's door and slams it behind him as he paces back and forth through Steve's room. Steve sighed as he placed his book to the side on his bed and looked at Bucky. "What happened this time?" Bucky groaned deeply, "I told her about the mission we are going on later this week and she flipped out on me." He grabbed a workout dumbbell off the ground and started to work out his human arm by doing bicep curls. "She keeps telling me that she can't deal with me trying to track down and kill every single person that was ever or is currently apart of Hydra, that this mission we are going on is a trap." His breath becomes uneven as says breathy words under his tongue as his annoyed attitude has not faltered in the slightest. Steve rolled his eyes at the drama going on between the not so couple right now. "You do realize that she's scared of losing you, especially more since she's already lost you as a partner." Steve sighed deeply, being the person that both of them had come to confide in about their problems. "And with the Hydra thing, it's tricky because I know you want to move past it, and it was such a hard time of your life but there are better ways to grow past it, Buck." Steve talked softly as his kind blue eyes pierced through Bucky, hoping he would accept his words of advice but seeing how Bucky was instantly throwing the weight around as if it weighed nothing due to his anger, Steve knew Bucky wasn't truly hearing him.

Bucky dropped the weight at Steve's words, "Better ways, huh. there're better ways for everything but does that mean it's always achievable? No." Bucky looked at Steve almost desperately, "I don't want to lose her but if I don't do this, I feel like I might lose myself." Bucky sighed as he looked at the weight on the ground before picking it back up again. "What's rule number 3, Buck?" Steve asks knowing how Bucky's rage and trauma is having a profound impact on his own mental health. "What would they think about you after you murder them all?" Steve questions, knowing that if Bucky were to kill them then people would believe that Bucky was the Winter Solider still, or just a cold killer."Who cares, they took everything from me. They took me away from myself." Bucky stormed out of Steve's room in frustration and made his way to his room with loud footsteps as he carried his empty duffle bag.

Bucky's mind was whirling with angry thoughts about how no one understands him and the one person that did, was no longer a happy part of his life. He angrily shoves his clothes and weapons as well as his dog tags and anything else he would need into his duffle bag. Bucky fit everything he needed perfectly into his duffle bag and sat it by the door before he slouched down onto his bed. He rubbed his temple as he exhaled a deep sigh, wishing he could understand life like he did back in the 40's.

"If you feel it so necessary to risk your life so that you can battle an internal fight, then I'm coming too." She swung the door open as she placed down her duffle bag with confidence and stubbornness. Bucky groaned and ran his hands through his hair again, stressed out, knowing that she won't back down. "If you keep doing that, you'll go bald before you're ancient." She giggled snarky as Bucky narrowed his eyes at her seriously. "If you're coming, you're staying in the plane. Eyes in the sky." She rolled her eyes but stayed silent knowing that putting up another fight was worthless.

They made their way to the airplane with slow steps as the tension around them stayed present even in the silence as they walked feet from each other. Bucky's eyes were unable to focus on anything other than her, her hair, her body, her clothes, the way she held herself. He knew he shouldn't think about her like this after their no so soft break up but he couldn't help himself. He was snapped out of it when Steve talked to him on the plane, "Buck, why is she joining us?" He asked as he looked at her getting comfortable in a seat on the plane as if it was her mission to be on. Bucky sighed, "I didn't want to fight her anymore. She will stay on the plane the whole time." Steve nodded in understanding, "We got this." Bucky chuckled, "As long as you don't blow the whole thing trying to 'save the world'" Steve chuckled along with him. The plane ride was silent as they quickly made it to the main hydra headquarters with Steve occasionally talking about the mission and the plan.

When they arrive at the place, Steve and Bucky easily jump out of the plane, landing exactly where they needed too to be at the top of the Hydra roof. She got comfortable on the plane with the coms on, cameras on, and trackers on but she couldn't settle the anxiety creeping up her spine. She tried to push it down as she figured that since she was watching and listening to them and that nothing would go wrong. That's what she had wished for, but not all dreams come true.

After the two men had entered the building, an alarm went off causing the rooms to blare nosies and lights to shine red and white in an emergency. They quickly move to the wall, Bucky had his gun up as his eyes glared through the top of the barrel with intense focus as he lead them through the hallway while Steve had his shield up as well as his arm to help brace himself for any situation that could happen. The lights continued to strobe with the blaring alarm as they swiftly and quietly made their way through the headquarters. As Bucky rounded a corner, there was a Hydra solider waiting for them. He fired his gun quickly multiple times causing bullets to go into his shoulder, his arm, and his stomach. Steve quickly threw his shield at the Hydra solider causing him to go unconscious and drop to the floor with a thud. "Buck?" Steve turnt around quickly as he grabbed Bucky's shoulders to help him stay up as he is loosing a lot of blood.

"What's going on?" She asked through the coms as the anxiety in her stomach started to bubble up yet again. "Why aren't you guys moving?" She impatiently waited for an answer as she tapped her fingertips against the desk, staring at the screen of their tracker and trying to find them on the camera system. "Everything's fine," Bucky growls out in a snap. Over the coms she can hear Steve groan, "Bucky got hit, three times." he explains to her and while his words are processing, her heart beat increases dramatically. "I'm fine." Bucky growled out as he continued to make his way down the hallway with Steve closely behind him. She watches as the dots move slowly down the hallway on the tracker, Her anxiety roaring.

Suddenly the screen starts to glitch out, becoming unreadable entirely. She began to panic internally as she starts to talk on the coms, "what's goin' on?" She asks to no response but loud sounds like a frequency is blocking communication. She groans deeply as her anxiety is coming up through her stomach and settling at her chest as she makes her way up and slings a gun around her torso to make her way out of the plane which is now landed at the waiting point. She runs through the clearing and gets to the door, trying to open it to no avail, she uses her body weight next to slam against the door, again to no avail. Sounds of yelling and screaming stop her in her tracks as the anxiety now feels like an elephant sitting on her chest. Looking around, she spot a window and she uses the back gun barrel to break the glass, making sure it's safe before she climbs inside. When she gets inside it is dark and eerily quiet, she cautiously take slow and soft steps and she keeps her gun up on guard as she search's for Steve and Bucky. She shoves open a door which reveals a pitch dark room, She is hesitant to go in until She hears Bucky whimpering in the darkness. She quickly makes her way inside, "Buck?" She whispered as the door shuts behind her, she hears the door click causing her to turn back to the door to see someone outside the door flick the lights on to reveal Bucky on the ground bleeding out from multiple injuries, she ran up to him immediately.

"Oh Buck..." She sighed deeply and she glare up at the person behind the door. The mysterious person presses a button with a smirk before they turn and makes their way out of eyesight from her. She hears a hissing sound causing her to look up to see a gas coming out of a huge vent in the room, the barley visible smoke filling the floor as it causes Bucky to cough an incredible amount and making his injuries worse. The smoke filled the room and eventually her lungs as she can feel the smoke burning her airway. She coughs violently in sync with Bucky, trying to stay conscious and aware but it becomes more challenging as the world starts spinning and her eyes get heavier. Bucky suddenly stops coughing causing her to know that he fell victim to the gas, she tried to fight it as long as possible as she held herself up against a table but still inevitably fail as she fell to the ground with a loud thud as she went unconscious.

When she woke up, everything was groggy and the room is spinning and her chest feels heavy with more than just anxiety. She groaned out in pain when she turn to look around to see her hands and legs tied up to the arms and legs of a chair while she was also tied around the torso. Turning her head, she saw Bucky sitting there tied up the same as her, him still unconscious though. "Bucky!" She whisper shouted trying to get him awake, whispering his name loudly multiple times in hopes of him waking up. "Bu-" She gets interrupted by the sound of a door opening causing her to fall silent as she watches the darkness to see someone emerge from it. "Well, Well, Well. Look what we have here. The world's most dangerous assassin..." The person walks towards us to reveal its Zola dressed in his white coat. "And his little toy." Zola smirks at us. "What do you want with us? Bucky isn't under your control anymore." She speaks deeply and firmly even through the anxiety and fear that is ever so present. Zola chuckles at her question as he leans down and grabs Bucky's unconscious face, holding his face up by the chin, his fingernails digging into Bucky's cheek, leaving red to glow off of Bucky's face. "I want him." Zola lets Bucky's face go with no regard for him. His head falls back down as Zola shifts his attention back to her. "I can't have him with you around. With you here. He has something to fight for." Zola leaned in close enough to her face that she could smell him the smell of rubber and overpriced Calonge on his body, he smelt like fake money. "I'm going to make him lose everything. Anything he loved or ever will love in the future, I will destroy."

Zola pushed some of the hair that had fallen in front of her face behind her ear, "And that starts with you, Darling." Zola had a maniacal smile on, his twisted face that contorted the anxiety in her stomach from anxiety into fear and anger. Her anxiety and fear had instantly turned into rage as Zola kept speaking, her jaw clenching and veins popping out of her neck and forehead. "I'll kill you." Her voice growls deeply with hatred as she struggled against the restraints roughly with harsh movements. Zola couldn't help the chuckle that escapes his lip. "Or you'll die trying, sweetheart." He exclaimed with a smirk on his face, "You'll be fun to play with." Zola runs his fingers softly down her face as she holds a scowl and her eyes bore into him with rage.

A soft voice croaks out, "Don't touch her..." Bucky's horse and rough voice speaks out as he raises his head to assess the situation as the gas wears off. Zola smirked as he trailed his fingers down her face and down her jawline and to her throat where he roughly grabs it with a tight grasp causing her to gasp out at a loss for air. "You take orders, Soldat. You don't give them." Zola says as his dark eyes meet Bucky's whose eyes are dark and cold, his glare unwavering as his jaw clenched. Bucky thrashes around in the restraints, easily breaking out as he saw you under Zola hold, anger filling his body with red heat as he stands up in front of Zola, dark eyes that would send shivers down the body of a normal person. "Let. Her. Go." Bucky's rough voices speaks out firmly as he towers over Zola, he smirks as he lets go of her but reaches into his pocket and injects Bucky with a syringe causing Bucky to be disoriented and out of it as he stumbles backwards. "Stay away from her!" He yells in frustration as he tries to move close to her despite the drugs and ultimately failing.

"Bucky! Stop trying to save me. They want you." She speaks out firmly through her coughs and deep breaths. Bucky growled at her statement, "I will never stop fighting for you, defending you, protecting you. Over my dead body will I let you get hurt." Bucky's deep voiced traveled through the room as it sent shivers down her body. Zola moved to Bucky, grabbing him by the back of the neck like a kitten and forces him down to the ground as he digs Bucky's head into the ground before quickly chaining him up, Bucky being easier to restrain with the drugs in his system. Zola squatted down to make eye contact with Bucky, his eyes digging into Bucky's with determination. "I will destroy you. You'll be mine again."

[rcmclachlan]

fanclub dues (bucktommy, tommy & maddie friendship)

Buck's just pulling into the parking lot when the realization that he left his recertification paperwork on Tommy's kitchen counter hits him like another lightning strike, and he drops his head to the steering wheel with a whine. His cert expires today and absolutely has to be postmarked by noon or else Bobby's going to decapitate him, or worse: be really disappointed in him.

His first instinct is to call Tommy, because Tommy's starting a lovely stretch of 72 hours off, and if Buck called him he would absolutely drive the packet over.

Except Tommy's spent the last week reminding Buck to mail the stupid thing before the postmark deadline. If he calls and asks, Tommy won't say I told you so, but he will pause for a second like he's thinking about it before he tells Buck it's no problem. Which is in the exact same pantheon as Bobby's disappointment.

So, he does the next best thing.

"Actually, that works out, because I'm going to be in that area anyway," Maddie says. He can hear the rush of wind and traffic over the line. She must already be driving. "You know how we got on the waitlist for that kindergarten I was telling you about? Looks like a spot is going to open up next year and they asked me to come in for a tour."

Buck frowns. "You're already talking about kindergarten?"

"Jee's four, Buck," Maddie says long-sufferingly. "Kindergarten starts next year."

"That's insane, and also illegal. Tell that girl to stop growing or else she's getting arrested. I know a cop who would absolutely do it, no questions asked."

Maddie laughs, which makes him grin at his reflection in the rearview like an idiot. It always feels like he's won something when he manages to make her at least crack a smile, even when they were kids.

He thanks her profusely, texts her Tommy's address, and then rides that wave of joy right into the station, which continues to carry him through the first couple of hours of his shift.

Around 10:00, his phone chimes with a message. Just pulled up! Front of the house looks great! :-) :-) :-)

Buck smiles down at his phone. He helped plant the flower beds last weekend, and even though he's still finding bits of mulch in weird places because Tommy had pressed him back into the dirt and kissed him filthy in broad daylight in full view of his street, until their smiles got in the way, he can't argue with the end result. They do look good.

This little handoff probably will only take five minutes. Tommy still feels a little awkward around Maddie for reasons Buck cannot fathom for the life of him. Maddie is the kindest, coolest person on the planet, and she's so happy that Buck is happy and Buck is happy because of Tommy, so there shouldn't be any sort of weird vibe. But this is the first time Tommy's ever been in a relationship that made it to the stage where he gets to meet the family and he's so terrified of leaving a bad impression that it's translated into him acting like a robot whenever she's around.

It's maybe a little mean of him to send Maddie to Tommy's literal doorstep. He can just picture the deer-in-headlights look on Tommy's face when he opens the door, but Buck figures exposure therapy can only help. The more Tommy sees Maddie, the more he'll hopefully relax. Small moves.

Maddie will probably send a text in another few minutes about her ETA, but then the bells go off and Buck doesn't give it another thought until a few hours later when they're climbing into the truck to head back to the station.

Unearthing his phone, Buck is expecting a Looks like you're out on a call. I left your stuff on Bobby's desk. See you later!

He's not expecting a video.

Blinking, he checks the timestamp of the message—not twenty minutes ago—and feels the first nibbles of worry in his gut.

What if something happened at the station? What if Gerrard made an unexpected appearance, hoping to, like, challenge Bobby to fisticuffs to get his job back but found Maddie there instead? What if he says something to her, or tries to burn the building down while she's still inside? Maybe she took a video as proof before the ceiling caved in—

He nearly drops the phone trying to press play, and Chim slides in next to him just in time to see Maddie fill his screen.

But instead of evidence of their bitter ex-captain committing arson, it's a selfie video of her in a pair of sunglasses and a cap dancing and singing along to a song Buck doesn't recognize. He does recognize the kitchen behind her, though, because he'd eaten breakfast in it just this morning. There are two bottles of wine on the counter, one empty.

And after a moment, Buck realizes the sunglasses are Tommy's aviators and the pilot cap is the same one Buck accidentally stumbled upon in one of the upstairs closets and made Tommy wear a few nights ago.

But before he can process any of that, Tommy cha-chas his way into the background holding a plate of what looks like sandwiches. He's singing along too. Maddie turns around to look and starts laughing hysterically, the entire screen shaking like they're in the middle of a 9.1 earthquake, when Tommy starts hip thrusting.

Buck's jaw drops. "He said those dorky-ass dance moves were for my eyes only!"

"Wow, I never realized there was a patron saint of FOMO, but here I am sitting next to him. What an honor," Chim says with a laugh, but something in the video must click because his grin is suddenly swallowed by sheer outrage. "Wait, are they having a George Michael dance party without me? Maddie knows how much I love George!"

"What's your definition of dirty, baby, what do you consider pornography!" Maddie and Tommy shout gleefully at the camera.

Chim gasps. "Oh, divorce!"

"What was that about FOMO, Chim?" Hen asks sweetly, but she's grinning so wide at the video—even from her upside down vantage point—that the dig doesn't stick the landing.

Buck looks over at Eddie, who is watching the video serenely, like he's not shocked to see his cool friend full-on shimmying his chest while shoving a grilled cheese into his face.

"Are you not surprised by this at all?" Buck demands.

Eddie shrugs. "If you ever came to karaoke like we keep asking you to, you wouldn't be either. I don't know what you want me to say, Buck. Your man's a dweeb."

He's so annoyed that this is something Eddie's seen so many times before that it doesn't even warrant a reaction that Buck almost forgets to be upset about Maddie and the aforementioned dweeb day drinking and bonding without him. He's oh so glad to see Tommy got over his fear of impressing Maddie enough that he thinks he's allowed to do the fucking running man while in the same room with her.

"C-c-c-c-c-come on!" Tommy howls. Off screen, Maddie cackles and whoops like she's at a rodeo show.

Buck turns to Chimney and says grimly, "After this? You totally get me in the divorce."

Chim makes a face. "Can I contest that?"

"No," Buck says, swiping out of the video before he throws his phone into the street. Almost immediately it chimes with a new text. In a new group chat.

Faxed ur stuff bc ur bf still has a FAX MACHINE and CONNECTIONS at the dir!

Yes and arent uoy glad???1? EVan youre all set baby

BABY lmao gross Going to Jees school now tell u how it goes

When Bobby hauls himself into the front seat, he looks back at them and pauses. Buck doesn't know what his face is doing, but by the dubious expression on Bobby's face, it's nothing good.

"Everything... okay?"

Buck shrugs. "Other than my niece being destined for a career of slinging burgers at In n' Out because my drunk sister and boyfriend are about to get her blackballed from the Los Angeles public school system? We're copasetic, Cap."

'Copasetic,' Eddie mouths, then starts snickering. Buck kicks his foot.

"Hey." Chim smacks him in the chest. "Don't diss fast food workers, they're the backbone of our society. You're just mad you're not cheating Jee out of an education with said sister and boyfriend."

"Aren't you?"

"Well, yeah, but I'm well-actualized enough to simply rise above the betrayal," Chimney says easily.

Hen rolls her eyes. "He's not. Between the two of you, we're going to be hearing about this for the next four years."

"Sorry, Maddie and Tommy are doing what?" Bobby asks slowly.

The corners of Chim's mouth twitch downward. "Dancing to I Want Your Sex. Without me, might I add."

Buck's head turns so fast he hears something pop in his neck. "It's called what?"

"Oh god," Hen mutters. Eddie looks like he's ready to start dozing off.

Buck's gearing up for a really good rant when his phone goes off again, and when he opens the message, it's a selfie of Maddie and Tommy pressed together in someone's backseat—hopefully an Uber's—and grinning so hard it almost looks a little painful.

Jealousy starts to rear its head like a snake, but before it has a chance to strike he clocks the name of the group chat.

The Official Evan Buckley Fan Club.

Be safe out htere! We love you!

"I'm just saying," Chim gripes to a visibly unsympathetic Hen, "Maddie wasn't even a George Michael fan until I made her listen to Hard Day!"

Buck turns to Eddie and kicks his foot again. "Want to join The Evan Buckley Fan Club?"

"Dude, I've been treasurer for like seven years," Eddie says without opening his eyes. "And I cast the deciding vote when Tommy ran for president at the end of last year."

Once upon a time a there lived boy in Hershey, Pennsylvania who never dared to conceive the idea that multiple people might someday love him enough to start a fan club over it.

"You over it yet?" Eddie asks.

Something warm and sweet wells inside him and he ducks his head around a pleased laugh. "Yeah, for now."

He does make a mental note to have a serious talk with Tommy about the proprietary nature of those hip thrusts, though.

[phant0mth1ef]

are we still friends? can we be friends? are we still friends? i’ve got to… know. (pt. 2 to the feeling that i’m losing her, forever). part 3

to say you didn’t expect to see a pair of bright red eyes staring you down as you walked into the facility was an understatement, you hadn’t made eye contact with those eyes in over a year, and you flinched the moment you realized just who you were looking at.

you’d stumbled into inasa once you snapped out of your daze, catching yourself quickly as your cap hit the floor, the boy using his wind in order to float it back onto your head.

“thank you.” you mumbled before going to take your spot in line, coincidentally right next to your former best friend.

“why haven’t you called me?!” so now he wants to begin a conversation.

“been busy.” you shrugged, refusing to even look at him because you knew you’d start crying the moment you met his eyes again.

“okay? you could’ve texted me or some shit!”

“my phone stopped working.” you were competing for the title of nonchalant final boss at this point with how casual you were being.

“bullshit. i saw you with it at the exam! just tell me why you’re avoiding me like the plague.” it may not have looked like it, but bakugou was scared out of his mind. you’d changed since the licensing exam, he could sense it in the way you carried yourself. you were being cold.

“what the hell happened to you?? you used to always call me, always text me. what happened?” did he seriously not know what happened?

“you happened.” and that was all you were able to say before the proctors for the training session entered the room, quickly commanding you all to stand in line as your face changed to a softer expression.

it was a casual sparring session, so why were you sending rocks the size of boulders his way? his mind was too clouded to even dodge them effectively, the words you said still playing out in his mind as he mindlessly sent out explosive attacks.

you’d tried to pack up as quickly as possible afterwards to avoid a confrontation with your former best friend, but you heard the clanking of his boots hitting the ground and just let out a sigh.

“what?” you snapped.

“what me? what you!” he was starting to get angry, the way he would get angry back in middle school.

“what about me?! you’re also at fault here. i was the one always trying to get in contact with you! i just grew up and realized that if you wanted to, you would.” you begun to shove all your things into your duffel bag, accidentally smashing your fist into the ground.

“what the hell does that even mean?! you’re the one who stopped calling me outta nowhere. i didn’t tell you to do that.”

“don’t you get it?! i was the one always calling!” you shoved your bag to the floor as you stood up straight, your voice getting strained as you finally made eye contact with bakugou.

“i was the one who always had to start talking to you first! it made me feel like a nuisance. and then one day i hear you telling your new friends that you think i’m annoying? like what the fuck, katsuki. none of this is my fault. if you’d just been a man and picked up the phone, this could’ve been avoided.” you had a habit of crying once you got frustrated, so naturally the tears were threatening to fall from your eyes.

he didn’t have any words, letting out a scoff as you picked up your bag and shoulder checked him on your way out, sending him stumbling back as he just stared at the ghost of your presence.

later that night he sat in his dorm room, his finger hovering over your contact but never once pressing on it, unsure of what he’d even say if you decided to pick up.

“i mean how the hell am i supposed to apologize? she’s so confusing. like damn sorry i called you annoying but it isn’t even that big of a deal anymore that was months ago!” bakugou was ranting to his little group of friends that were huddled on his floor, suprised that the boy would even invite them, let alone drone on about his issues with the friend that none of them even knew about.

“so you called her annoying but you didn’t know she was listening?” mina spoke up.

“yes but that was months ago! i don’t even know how to talk to her anymore because she won’t listen to me.” he sprawled flat on his bed.

“sounds like you’ve dug yourself a deep hole bakugou.” kirishima said, a hint of disappointment in his tone.

meanwhile, back at shiketsu, your group was currently huddled in camie’s dorm, and you sat on the bed while they formed a circle around you.

“i don’t know who he thinks he is but i am not going to beg for him to be my friend, i am not going to be as pathetic as i used to be!” slow teardrops fell from your eyes as you recalled back in middle school when bakugou found more friends and slowly begun to leave you behind.

“i know, and i get that, but you should at least try to give him a chance. he’s making an effort.” she tossed you your phone that was sitting on the desk, a notification on the lock screen.

[kats 💥🫂]

Meet me at the spot tomorrow. Please. 4 PM.

tags; @riverozada @lupitalove @msjaeger @aintseennothinyet @wendeeeee ask and you shall receive sorry if its kinda bad 😢😢

[lostwords-found]

Oh no. Oh fuck. I am relistening to some of the earlier Protocol episodes, and I have a horrible, terrible, no good very bad suspicion about Gerry.

I could, I want to emphasize, be completely wrong! I could be wildly, hilariously, off the mark. But--hear me out. This is going to take some explaining about what I think is going on in the bigger picture worldbuilding stuff; hopefully it'll be coherent, but fair warning, it may get a bit long.

First: there have been a lot of cases that have boiled down to trying to keep only the "good"/desirable/etc aspects of things or events or people, and discard the "bad"/unwanted, right? We saw this happening very explicitly in episode 23 with Alesis Newman, and way back in episode 2 with Daria the painter, but a number of episodes have presented variations on a similar theme.

Two variations in particular that I've been thinking a lot about are the violinist in episode 4 and the gambler in episode 9. The violinist can play his violin beautifully, but he wants to be rid of the price in flesh and blood that it demands. Similarly, the gambler wants the rewards of rolling high on his magic dice, but wants to be rid of the misfortunes that come with rolling low. Crucially, both episodes make clear that in this type of balance--something unwanted for something wanted--you can't just make the unwanted piece vanish. It has to go somewhere, it has to happen. But you can make it happen to someone else, somewhere else. And when that's how the game works, one of the major questions for players who want to get ahead then becomes: "how do I make the bad stuff stay happening somewhere else, and keep reaping the benefits of the good stuff that balances it out?"

Here's where this gets wildly speculative and from here on I freely acknowledge that I may be talking out my ass:

I think the Magnus Institute was investigating that question. I suspect a great many alchemists before the Institute, probably going back to the times of Albertus Magnus, were investigating it as well. I think the Great Work they were attempting -- the "universal transmutation" alluded to in episode 21 as the Magnus Institute's aim -- was the exact opposite of Jonah Magnus's own "Great Work" in TMA. In other words, I think they were probably trying to make the world an eternal paradise, rather than an eternal hell.

But if you're getting rid of all the "bad" stuff, all the suffering and misfortune, it's got to go somewhere.

I think they were sending it through to other worlds.

I'm not going to get into all the reasons I think that right now, because that's a whole essay in itself, but basically--the Leitners in TMA? The artifacts? All the little bits and pieces of evil given physical form, that never had a clear origin point in the world where they caused so much suffering for so long? We've all been worried about them winding up here, post-Archives... but I think this is where they came from in the first place. I think they were sent away in the hopes that an increase in "bad" in other worlds would lead to an increase in "good" in this one. Remember all those books Albrecht von Closen found in the tomb in the Black Forest in TMA, that Jonah Magnus later stole and let loose on the world? Remember that Albrecht found a mysterious coin along with them dated 1279? Albertus Magnus died in 1280; I strongly suspect he sent those books from the world of Protocol to that of Archives shortly before his death, much as the world of Archives sent the tapes away centuries later. But I think Protocol's world kept sending things away, kept trying to export "bad" and import "good". Remember all those happy, laughing volunteers bringing strange and sinister items to the charity shop on Hill Top Road in episode 7? "All for a good cause."

Okay so. Now. With that bit of hypothetical framework for Protocol's worldbuilding in place, let's next go back to Alesis Newman of episode 23. Her expressed wish is to create a new her. "Someone better. Someone the pain can't touch." Someone who can be everything Alesis wishes she could have been. Someone "free of all (her) mistakes."

But increasingly it sounds like what she actually wants isn't to create someone new. It is to create someone who is only a part of her current self. Someone who, she says in one of her last few posts, will "just be the good parts of me."

And if that's the case, if what she's really trying to do is make someone who holds only the "good" parts of her, someone who can be happy and strong and perfect and loved by everyone forever... what happens to the bad parts of Alesis Newman, as she currently exists? What about the parts of her that feel pain and fear, the parts of her that make mistakes, the parts of her that she rejects?

One might assume, from the experience she narrates, that those pieces of her are simply being destroyed. But that doesn't line up with the suggestion we've seen from earlier episodes that there has to be some kind of balance maintained in these bargains. What she actually says is happening to her--and what the forum members have apparently told her will happen, through this process--is that she and this "new her" are "becoming one... and then two."

I don't think the "bad" parts of Alesis Newman are dying. I think they're also going to become a "new her"--they're just going to go somewhere else, somewhere the new, happy, strong, perfect version of Alesis Newman never has to see them.

Still with me?

Okay.

Now let's talk about Gerry. Let's talk about the smiling, laughing, irrepressibly happy Gerry Keay we meet early in Protocol. Gerry who seems to have everything that the Gerry Keay of Archives was denied.

Gerry who underwent tests at the Magnus Institute as a child, and who, per the static over his and "Gee Gee's" words, holds a few more secrets about what went on there than he let on to Sam and Celia.

Back when I first heard Gerry's appearance in episode 8, it sure felt like a narrative gut punch: This is who he could have been in Archives, if not for the presence of the Fears. This is what Jon and Martin's final decision threatens to destroy--for this safe, happy version of Gerry, and for everyone else in his world.

I'm now suspecting it might be significantly worse than that. I think the Magnus Institute might have done to Gerry Keay something similar to what Alesis Newman later did to herself: made him New. Kept only the good parts--ensured a happy, comfortable, good life for him. In which case, all the bad stuff--all the parts of Gerry Keay that would ever have to suffer from bad luck, to feel pain and fear and misery...

...well. They'd have had to go... somewhere else, wouldn't they.

Which would suggest I had the causality the wrong way around the first time I heard Gerry's appearance in Protocol: maybe it's not "Gerry has a happy life in this world because he didn't have to suffer everything that the Gerry Keay of Archives did."

Maybe it's "Gerry in Archives had to suffer everything he did because Gerry in Protocol was made to always be happy."

[thewulf]

Easy Skies || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - Feeling cuddly so you end up cuddling Jake for the first time in the early stages of your relationships. How this would lead to them napping together? Nothing but praises and love affirmations between them. Soft kisses. Readers first kiss with Jake.

A/N: Ahhh sorry I've been gone! Been enjoying summer :)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.7k +

T/W : None just fluff

It’s been several weeks since you and Jake officially started seeing each other. You met at a community event honoring local heroes where Jake shared stories of his missions and the places his career had taken him. Your own interest in aerial photography sparked a quick and deep conversation between the two of you leading to an instant connection.

It was going really well. The two of you taking your time with everything. He shared stories of how we was reckless in the past and you were already very cautionary with types like his. So, you tested him a bit. Only kisses on the cheek, nothing more. And he did passed with flying colors. He never pressured you, never pushed for more. But now you were ready for something more. You're spending a lazy Sunday at Jake’s apartment for the first time. His place reflects his life as a pilot. It was decorated with navigational charts. With different models of aircraft he’s flown and photographs from around the world. The walls hold framed maps marked with the various places he's visited, each one holding a story he's eager to share with you.

As the afternoon fades into evening, you both settle into the comfortable couch in his living room. The soft music playing in the background mixes with the mellow golden light streaming through the windows creating a serene atmosphere. It's a rare and quiet moment for Jake who is usually caught up in the demanding schedule of a Navy pilot. You cherish the peaceful intimacy that has formed between you. Today’s simplicity is a precious contrast to the complexities of your usual routines.

As you both relax into the couch Jake recounts a comical error from his last training exercise. He'd accidentally swapped his day’s checklist with another pilot’s which led to some light-hearted confusion and teasing from his crew.

“You seriously went through half the pre-flight with the wrong list?” you laugh while shaking your head in amusement.

“Yep,” Jake admits with a grin. “It was only when I called out the wrong coordinates that someone caught on. We all had a good laugh about it later.” The conversation winds down as you both sink into the rhythm of each other’s presence, comfortable and at ease. There’s a genuine simplicity in the way you interact, no need for constant chatter. Jake’s job as a pilot often surrounds him with high stakes and rigor making these peaceful moments particularly valuable.

“It’s nice, isn’t it? Just being able to sit and talk without rushing anywhere,” Jake comments. His tone relaxed.

“It really is,” you agree as you smiled over at him. “Especially with good company.”

He returns your smile with a warm, appreciative one of his own. As the room fills with the soft hum of a new song the day closes around you both, cozy and familiar. Like a well-loved jacket that’s been washed a hundred times. It’s easy, it’s comfortable. And right now, it’s exactly what you both need.

As the afternoon shadows stretch across the room a yawn escapes you, shifting the comfortable silence. Jake catches it and chuckles, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Tired?” he teases before nudging you gently with his elbow.

“Maybe a little,” you admit while stretching your arms above your head. “It’s been a long week.”

Jake nods understandingly. His gaze softening. “How about we take a little nap then? Recharge a bit?”

You playfully raise an eyebrow. A smile tugging at your lips. “Only if you’re joining. I hear you’re the best pillow around here.”

Jake’s laughter fills the room, warm and infectious. “Is that so? Well, I can’t let you down then.” He shifts himself making room on the couch and pats the spot next to him "Come here," he says softly. His voice blending with the low melody. With a contented smile you slide closer until you're nestled against him. Your head resting comfortably on his broad chest. You can feel the steady beat of his heart through the soft fabric of his shirt. A reassuring rhythm that echoes quietly in your ear. Jake's arm wraps securely around you with his hand resting gently on your back. The warmth of his touch and the rise and fall of his chest with each breath he takes bring an overwhelming sense of peace and safety.

For a few moments you simply listen, taking in the sound of his heartbeat and the soft, steady breaths he draws. It's a new level of intimacy of sharing this quiet closeness without the need for words. Jake's hand moves in slow, soothing strokes across your back further relaxing you. With each passing second the world beyond the walls of Jake’s apartment seems to drift further away. You're drawn into this serene bubble where the only things that matter are the soft fabric of the couch, the gentle caress of Jake's hand, and the comforting rhythm of his heart.

Jake breaks the silence with a whisper that's barely audible over the music. "This is nice," he murmurs. His breath tickling your ear. You hum in agreement as you were too content and relaxed to form words. The trust and affection in this simple act of cuddling deepen, marking a beautiful, quiet milestone in your growing relationship.

As the soft jazz continues to play creating a soothing backdrop, the room grows quieter still. The comfort of Jake’s embrace coupled with the warm, gentle atmosphere lulls you deeper into relaxation. His breathing becomes slower, more rhythmic, signaling his own descent into sleep. You feel his grip tighten just a bit. A subconscious affirmation of his presence and protection. Gradually, the space between wakefulness and sleep blurs. Your thoughts drift away, anchored only by the steady heartbeat beneath your ear. In the safety of Jake’s arms sleep seems like the most natural progression. Without planning it you both drift off. The world narrowing down to the couch where you lie together.

The nap isn't long but it’s restorative. Exactly what you needed. As you both sleep there’s an unspoken exchange of trust and comfort. It’s one thing to share conversations and activities but another to share such vulnerability as sleep in each other’s presence. This mutual comfort speaks volumes about the trust and closeness developing between you.

Time slips by quietly and when you eventually stir it’s to the feeling of Jake’s fingers lightly brushing through your hair. His movements are soft and careful, designed not to wake you but to reassure himself you’re still there. You open your eyes slowly meeting his gaze which is filled with a quiet joy.

“Hey,” he whispers. As if speaking too loudly might break the spell of the peaceful moment you've shared.

“Hey,” you respond with your voice just as soft. The simple exchange feels like a gentle reconnection to the world affirming the comfort and affection that wrapped around you both as you slept. The nap together was simple yet intimate. It deepens the connection between you. Each quiet breath shared adding another layer to your growing relationship.

The afternoon light has softened into a cozy twilight by the time you both stir from your nap. You’re still wrapped in Jake’s arms and as your eyes meet there’s a playful spark between you that feels both exciting and comforting. “Welcome back,” Jake murmurs. His voice low and slightly husky from sleep. He leans forward pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. Then one on the tip of your nose, which makes you giggle.

“Is that how you wake up all your guests?” you tease. Your voice light and tinged with laughter.

“Only the special ones,” he replies with a grin with his eyes crinkling at the corners. He doesn’t stop there though. His kisses wander from your cheek to your jawline, each peck light and teasing, drawing more giggles from you. The laughter that fills the room is warm, echoing the affectionate mood.

Jake’s playful kisses continue by tracing a path down the side of your neck, sending a shiver of delight through you. You can’t help but catch him by the collar before pulling him back up to meet your eyes. “You’re going to make it impossible to leave this couch,” you laugh while still holding onto his shirt.

“That’s the plan,” he whispers back. His voice playful yet sincere. Then in a swift, fluid motion he captures your lips with his in a kiss that’s deeper and more intentional than the playful ones before. This kiss feels like a culmination of all the gentle pecks, each one adding a layer to the profound connection you’re building together.

As you break away there’s a shared smile. A mutual understanding of the affection and joy weaving through each interaction, each touch, each kiss. The playfulness adds a lightness to your relationship. He made moments like these not just romantic but genuinely fun, enriching the bond you share with laughter and love. After the laughter subsides and the atmosphere settles into a comfortable quiet, Jake looks at you with a contented smile. His eyes reflecting a gentle appreciation. "These moments with you. They're the highlight of my week," he says quietly. His voice carrying a note of sincerity.

Feeling a warm glow from his words you nod and smile softly. Your response understated but genuine. "It always feels different when I'm with you. It's easy, you know?" Your words are simple, echoing the straightforwardness of your time together.

Jake's response is a nod, his smile lingering. "Let's keep it that way," he replies. His agreement simple yet full of promise. The conversation feels natural, reflecting the comfort and understated affection that characterizes your relationship. As twilight transitions into the deep blue of night neither of you feels ready to break the comfortable cocoon you've formed on the couch. Jake glances at the clock, then back at you with a playful challenge in his eyes.

"How about we order some dinner?" he suggests. His tone casual but hopeful. "I'm not quite ready for this day to end. But I don’t think I can get up quite yet."

You laugh while agreeing instantly. "Sounds perfect. What are you in the mood for?"

"Pizza okay with you?" Jake asks already reaching for his phone to place the order.

"Always a good choice," you reply settling back against his chest while feeling utterly at ease.

The wait for the food is filled with more soft conversations. Each shared thought strengthening the bond between you. As the evening unfolds it becomes clear that days like these are just the beginning of what you both hope will be many more shared experiences.

When the food arrives, you set up a makeshift dining area on the coffee table, continuing the easy flow of the day into the evening. Each slice of pizza comes with stories you share. Each laugh making the room warmer. As the evening winds down, you find yourselves eagerly talking about other things you could do together, from movie nights to hiking trips. The night ends not just with satisfied appetites but with the excitement of planning future outings. It's clear that your relationship is blossoming. Full of promise for more beautiful days and nights shared in each other’s company.

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mamachasesmayhem @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @illisea @jessicab1991 @guacam011y @dempy @mrsevans90 @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @missxmav @kajjaka

[dcxdpdabbles]

I've been thinking about a pit assumed mermaid Danny so long. Like the GIW gets their hands on Danny and Danny ends up running away after being dissected and lands right into one of the Lazarus pits not the one that the league of assassin has and he ends up finding out that all of the pits are connected to each other so he uses them to like you know travel around and not be stuck in one place while healing. Damien standing by the pits without being supervised though something down there like just a child being curious he been here is a grumbling thank you. After a while Damien and Danny just get a big brother little sibling relationship and Damian when he leaves to go to his dad is like I promise to come back to save you Free you from the Lazarus pits. Couple years later after Damien established himself as Robin and a barrel agent with his family Damien's always been talking about going back and saving his friend Danny and the rest of the Batfamily is just convinced that Danny's like I'm imaginary friend. So when Damien gets kidnapped by the League of assassins and they're all getting ready to go back home Damian just walked up to the Lazarus pits and goes Daddy I'm here to save you you can come out now then it starts rumbling and outcomes this giant electric glowing green eyes mermaid being like Oh Damian you came back. Sorry for the rambling it's just that I really been thinking about this idea also I love your works.

"Robin! Where are you going!?"

Damian ignores Richard's call. He knows they should be running to the exit where Drake or Todd should fly around with the escape helicopter. He also knows they don't have time to make detours because if they missed that window of escape, the League would not allow them a second chance.

Damian knows. But this is the closest he's gotten to Danny since he was sent away. Now that he knows better, now that he is aware of just how horrible Grandfather and his lot really were, he couldn't just leave his friend here.

Every day that passed, Danny was at risk of being discovered, and who knew what the League of Assassins would want to do to him?

He needed to get him out.

Tonight, Danny was coming to Gotham with him, one way or another.

"Robin, we don't have time for this!"

"I know! I know, but I can't just leave him!" he shouted back, breaking into a sprint down familiar hallways. He dodged a sword swing, tucking and rolling between the legs of an assassin. He twists mid-landing to throw in a Scorpio kick to the head.

He only waits long enough to hear the man grunt. Damian is running away even before the thump of the body hits the ground. He's so close.

"Robin! Nightwing! We're fighting them off, but we can't hold the position for long," Drake shouts into the com that Richard had given him. "We need to do the extraction in two minutes or we're all going to be trapped here!"

He wants to shout at them but can't waste even a second. Damian forces himself to push faster and ignore the burn in his legs as he rounds down the last hallway, attacking the special guards at the gate of the pits.

Unlike the rest of the castle, these two are some of the best the league offers. Damian struggles to find an opening between them and their teamwork. He can also feel the time ticking away with each punch, swing, dodge, and heart-pounding killing blow that nearly lands on his person.

Just a little further. He thinks, panting as he blocks sword after sword, hissing in pain every time one of them manages to make small cuts through his defense. I just have to get a little further!

Bang! Bang!

The two bullets fly, breaking the guard's knees and pinning him down in a sword stalemate. Damian has a moment to thank the heavens that Todd and Richard appeared not even a second later—fighting away the two remaining guards. He watches them fight for a moment, trying to catch his breath.

One minute! Drake hisses, the sounds of gunfire and the wind of the helicopters' wind nearly drowning his voice.

Damian glances at the door, and then his brothers fight, and he makes his decision. He rushes to the door, kicks it open, and sprints down the pathway into the cave. He hears the battle pick up speed behind him, along with Todd's outraged cry of his name, but he does not slow down until the slight green glow comes into view.

"Danny!" he shouts, hoping his voice's sound waves can travel through the green liquid to what is hidden below. "I've come to rescue you!"

Are you kidding me? Todd yells in the coms. We're risking everything while being outnumbered and outgunned so Demon Brat can get his imaginary best friend!?

Damin tushes to the pit, leaning over, trying to spot the mermaid in the glowing water. He splashes the surfaces in the same way he used as a child, when calling for the creature, face darkening at the causation meanwhile. "He is not imaginary! Danny is real!"

Robin, we don't have time for this! Richard screams. We have to go! Now!

"In a minute!" Damian splashes the water more urgently. He could stick his head in, but he was healthy right now, minus the few cuts, and he could not afford to lose his head mid-escape.

We don't have a minute! Drake cries. A worrisome beeping noise accompanies his words. A loud boom is heard along with Drake's screech. I've been hit! I'm going down!

No!

"Danny, please! I need you!"

A small head of pure white hair peaks up from the water, gentle green eyes staring at him. The glowing green hides the rest of his face since the creature did not go further than his nose about the water, but Damian can tell he's smiling.

"Hello, little one."

Damian allows himself one moment of relief before the world starts to shake, and Danny leaves the Lazarus Pits for the first time in fourteen years. He rises out of the water, long, glowing angle fish tail darkening into shadows as his form shifts into a thing of nightmares.

Damian smiles up at him. "Hello, brother. Can you help my other brothers and me escape? "

Danny doesn't even have to consider the request already growing bigger and bigger until Damian is no bigger than his thumb. He then moves grabbing Damian in his ice-cold grasp.

Danny flies through the walls and picks up Ricard and Todd before they go up and out through solid stone. Damian closes his eyes, pressing against Danny's body to protect himself from whiplash and the strong wind.

Danny is insanely fast, which he proves by diving for the falling aircraft and not only catching up to it but also managing to lift it out of the sky. He angles his hand against the doorway, shaking his palm so Damian, Ricahrd, and Todd all tumble out of the gaint being hand into the safety of the chopper.

Danny then swings his massive body towards the horizon, ignoring the Leauge's attempts to capture him. The island is out of sight in seconds, and Damian can breathe a little easier, even though he is pressed against the wall with his screaming siblings.

Danny is going a little too fast in his escape.

"What's happening!?" Drake cries and checks to wiggle back a little from how fast they traveled.

"I invited Danny to live with us!"

"You did what!?"

[oik-tooru]

HQ BOYS SAYING “I LOVE YOU” FOR THE FIRST TIME

characters sakusa kiyoomi, iwaizumi hajime

a/n in my sakusa and iwa brain rot rn

sakusa kiyoomi

— kiyoomi’s pretty good at controlling and maintaining his emotions, which is something you’ve always admired about him. during those days where everything just seems to be too much, you appreciate your boyfriend’s level-headed and clear mind.

however there are some days (rare as they are) where your roles are reversed.

after a particularly difficult practice match, you received a phone call from atsumu, detailing the events that happened.

“he doesn’t look too good y/n,” he had said. “tonight was a rough one.”

not even a few seconds after the call ended, you heard the front door to your apartment open and in walked your boyfriend—your pillar of support.

only this time, your pillar had a few gaping cracks in him.

you quietly stood up from where you were sitting on the couch, an air of hesitation lingering as you rattled your brain for something, anything to say. you weren’t good at this—kiyoomi was more skilled in terms of calming someone down with just a few words. you, however, were more of a hug-now talk-later type of person, physical affection coming to you more easily.

but you knew kiyoomi wasn’t as fond of the latter as you were.

“welcome home,” you greeted gently.

kiyoomi’s eyes gazed upward and your heart melted at just how exhausted he looked. there were bags under his eyes and his normally put together outfit was disheveled in different places.

he dropped his bag on the floor and tossed his coat onto the nearby chair. he hung his head, allowing a few seconds of silence to pass before he raised it again.

a few droplets of tears decorated his tired eyes this time.

at this, you threw all caution to the wind and spurred forward, wrapping your arms around his waist. you expected him to tense up or even step out of your hold, but you were genuinely surprised when he reciprocated, hugging you even tighter if that was possible. he dug his face into the crook of your neck, warm tears soaking the strands of your hair.

“oh my love,” you mumbled into his hair, hands softly rubbing up and down his back. “what can i do for you?”

his fingers gripped onto your pajamas, pulling you closer.

“just…let me stay like this. please,” his voice cracked at the end. you sighed heavily as you felt your chest crack into two. you’ve never seen kiyoomi like this before and it was sending your emotions into a whirlwind.

but you did as he asked—you cared about him too much to deny him anything.

“of course,” you whispered. “we can stay here as long as you want.”

kiyoomi sniffled but didn’t say anything more, so you thought he was finished talking, but the next words out of his mouth took your breath away.

“thank you. i’m sorry. i love you.”

iwaizumi hajime

— if there was anyone else other than hajime who could put the oikawa tooru in his place, it was you.

the three of you were childhood friends, pretty much conjoined at the hips. you went from supporting them at their volleyball games to becoming their official manager in high school when you were a second year.

the same year you and hajime became something a little more as well.

growing up with the two of them, you knew their antics very well—which came in handy whenever tooru started acting up.

like right now.

“wait, where’s oikawa?” yahaba asked, pausing in his steps when he noticed your eccentric captain was nowhere to be found.

you froze, hajime doing the same in front of you. you saw the way the vein on his temple bulged and you sighed, stepping foward to put a hand on his shoulder.

“if he’s out there flirting with the girls again, i’m gonna kill him,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

“i’m right there with you,” you sighed. “coach, we’ll handle this.”

hajime grabbed your hand, leading you back out the entrance where the two of you found the culprit himself. however, instead of a crowd of girls surrounding him, you were surprised to see two familiar faces.

“is that…”

from beside you hajime groaned. “oh he’s going to have a field day with this. let’s go before he loses it even more.”

as you got closer, you could hear the flurry of comments oikawa was saying, most likely goading the two poor first years in front of him.

you managed to get to your elusive captain before your boyfriend did, and you yanked him back by the collar, satisfaction brewing in your stomach when he let out a terrified shriek.

“we’re here for an important match and you’re out here picking fights with your juniors?” you clicked your tongue in annoyance. “not a very good example you’re setting for them, are you captain?”

your gaze shifted over to the duo, features softening at the familiar faces of hinata shoyo and kageyama tobio. you sent them an apologetic smile, throwing your hand up to wave them off.

“so sorry about him guys. he ran off without his leash.”

oikawa sputtered at your words and you heard your boyfriend chuckle behind you. the two first years just gaped at you in shock as you dragged the supposed great king back to the auditorium.

“y/n,” he whined. “i can walk on my own you know.”

“oh i know that tooru, but clearly you don’t know where you’re going,” you snapped, whipping your head to the side to glare at him.

you reached the area where the rest of the team was warming up, tossing your captain back into the fray.

“listen i’m sorry but—”

you held your hand up, cutting him off.

“tooru,” you said sharply, causing him to flinch. even the other members stopped what they were doing, not having heard that tone in your voice before.

“if you keep pulling this shit then i’m not afraid to publicly kick your ass. i’ve only held back because you’re my best friend and i love you, but you are seriously testing my god damn limit. now, if you would please stand up and address your team the way a proper captain would.”

you crossed your arms, standing there expectantly as oikawa frantically composed himself, slipping back into his easy going persona.

despite the frustration you felt, you couldn’t help but shake your head, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

you heard the sound of footsteps behind you before an strong arm wrapped around your shoulder. hajime chuckled, looking at you with the biggest shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen.

you raised your eyebrow at him. “what is it?”

hajime shrugged and leaned in, pecking your cheek.

“have i ever told you how much i loved you?”

you snorted, a sharp laugh leaving your lips. “really? that’s what gets you to say it?”

you gently elbowed your boyfriend in the ribs, unable to hide your ever-growing smile on your lips when he pulled you back to give you a proper kiss.

[love2write2626]

Chasing The Wind (Tyler Owens x OFC)

Summary: Five years have gone by since the life-altering storm chase that impacted Y/N and her sister Kate. Through the years Y/N has experienced Highs and lows, but eventually found her place with Tyler and The rest of the Tornado Wranglers. However, when Kate returns home to collaborate with Storm Par, Y/N attempts to mend their relationship only to be rebuffed. It appears that Kate is solely heeding Javi's words and disregarding reality. Will she be able to make Kate see the truth?

Read the Prologue here

Chapter 1

5 Years Later

“Bye Mama” I said hugging her

“Bye sweetheart, thank you for coming to visit” I smiled

“Of course, Mama” I got out of the car, and as I’m walking to the diner she yells “Y/N!” I turn around “You tell Tyler to be careful” I rolled my eyes

“We will be careful” She squinted her eyes suspiciously

“I’m telling you, if you get hurt, I am coming for him” I laughed

“Ok mom, I’ll tell him”

“That’s all I ask. Love you sweetie”

“Love you too” I waved as she drove off. I looked around the old Diner, I haven’t been here in a while. It looks pretty much the same, just a little worn down. The parking lot is full of wanna be storm chasers waiting for news of a big twister coming so they can go and take lots of pictures.

As I walk further I let out a scoff when I see Storm Par waiting in the wings. Javi and I started Storm Par and I was so excited. Then Javi brought in a new business partner and I kind of got pushed to the side, which I didn’t mind all that much at first, but when I saw the shady investors they were dealing with I packed up my stuff and left. When we started we were in the business of helping people, now It seems they are in the business of just making money.

Scott, Javi’s business partner saw me and gave me a cocky smirk before turning around and went back to his conversation.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After quickly running to the bathroom I walk back out and stop in my tracks when I see Javi, and “KATE?” I yelled. Her head snapped up and she gave me a slight smile, but didn’t seem that happy to see me. I walked over and gave her a hug, even though she didn’t return it I didn’t care

“Hey sis” Kate said “What are you doing out here? Are you still chasing?” She asked

“Yeah, You would know that If you answered my calls” I said with a laugh, she frowned

“I’m not that good with communication Y/N” I nodded, Javi walked over to us and I glared at him. This man use to be one of my best friends now I can’t stand the sight of him.

“Hey, Y/N”

“Javi” I greeted, turning my head back to Kate

“So what are you doing out here?” I asked her

“I convinced her to come out for a week, to help us get our data. You know she has the best instincts.”

“I believe I was talking to my sister, not you” I said

“Y/N, Chill” Javi said, I know my face was full of anger “Kate is in safe hands with Storm Par… you know better than anyone we have some of the best safety protocols” Kate looked in-between the two of us.

“Y/N, you chase with Storm Par? Why didn’t you tell me Javi?” She asked confused

“No, No she use to work with us, hell this company was her idea… Our baby if you will” I rolled my eyes, and let out a sarcastic laugh “Then she ditched us to go be with some less funded storm chasers”

“That’s not the full story Javi and you know it, maybe you should tell her the truth about where all the money comes from and how you are nothing but a fraud” Kate put her hand up

“Y/N stop, Javi is our friend”

“Maybe your friend, he hasn’t been mine in a long time” We were cut off by loud music coming into the parking lot, and even though I was not in a particularly good mood, I still couldn’t help but smile when I saw Tyler drive up

“Behold, Tyler Owens” Javi said

“Who is he?” Kate asked, but before I have a chance to answer Javi said

“Redneck storm chasers with a youtube channel” I rolled my eyes “Him and his group including Y/N, call themselves Tornado Wranglers. The go around and do crazy stunts and stupid shit that is going to get them all killed one day” of course he leaves out the part about how we help the community and help get people food and water, but whatever. Kate turned to me

“You left Storm Par for that”

“I did, but I’m not going to explain myself to you sis. Go ahead and believe every word out of Javi’s mouth, but when you’re ready to hear the true story you have my number” I said walking over to the truck. I pushed my way through the adoring fans, and When Tyler saw me he smiled brightly.

“ONE MORE TIME, IF YOU FEEL IT…”

“CHASE IT” everyone yelled back, He hopped down off the running board and took my hand in his.

“Hey baby” he finally said to me, I wrapped my arms around him, and he immediately hugged me back. “You ok?” he asked.

“Not really, but I’m happy you’re here” He ran his hands up and down my back

“C’mon” He said, he grabbed my hand and pulled me with him, I couldn’t help but giggle, I have no idea where we are going but I don’t care I would follow Tyler anywhere. I love this man with all my heart. He is the smartest, funniest, kindest, hottest man I have ever met in my life. He pulled me around the back of the diner, and once we were out of sight of everyone. We stopped walking.

“I have a good idea of what we are doing back here Ty, but do you wanna tell me why you dragged me back here?” I smirked. Without saying a word or breaking eye contact. He walked me back against the wall.

“You look so fucking sexy when you wear my shirts” I looked down at what I am wearing, Tyler’s shirts get torn up a lot so most of the time instead of throwing them out, I will cut them into a crop top or something, and it turns him feral. He nuzzled his face into my neck, and started leaving light kisses “I missed you, next time you are coming to Arkansas with me”

“I missed you too, and you got it” I giggled. “What?” I asked when I noticed he was staring at me.

“Nothing, just Sometimes I just like to look at you just because you are so beautiful” I frowned

“Ty” I said attempting to push him away. He knows I hate being called pretty, or beautiful because I’m not. My body is covered in horrible scars from the accident 5 years ago. My car flipped 10 times, I know I am lucky because I could be dead, but it doesn’t make it any easier. His hard strong body stopped made it easy for him to keep me pushed against the wall.

“Y/N, Baby” He whispered into my ear. I felt a shiver run down my spine “You are a fucking goddess, the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. You are beautiful, funny, smart, and a whirlwind and I love you more than anything in this world. The scars are just proof of how strong you are, in my eyes they make you 10x more beautiful than you already are.” I know I have tears in my eyes. I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck.

“I love you too, Now will you please kiss me?” he smirked, he leaned down and brought his lips to mine. I sighed into the kiss, He has been gone a week, and a week without kissing him has been torture. I felt his hands run down my back, and down to my butt. He squeezed my ass, and I broke the kiss to let out a little laugh and squeal.

“TYLER” I giggled. Without warning he immediately lifted me up, I wrapped my legs around his waist and made sure I held tight as he pushed me back against the wall and we continued to make out.

“Tyler and Y/N! Can ya’ll stop sucking face for 2 seconds so we can go chase a storm?” Boone yelled, I giggled.

“We’ll be there in a minute Boone” Tyler said. Once Boone walked away, I Jumped down and sighed.

“That was cut much shorter than I would have liked” I mumbled

“Don’t worry baby, tonight we make up for a week of no alone time” I giggled. He grabbed my hand and we started walking toward the truck. When I heard

“Y/N” I turned around and saw Kate running over to me. Tyler looked at me suspiciously, I smiled

“Go ahead I’ll be there in a second” He nodded before walking off.

“Javi just told me all about Tyler and ya’ll Tornado Wranglers” I smirked

“And?” I said waiting for her to continue

“Y/N, how could you abandon Storm Par, and Javi for that jerk. Are you sleeping with him?” I looked at her shocked.

“I see Javi didn’t tell you the truth, so don’t come over here and make me out to be some sort of bad guy. You don’t know the full story, but by all means listen to Javi and not your own sister.” I started to walk away, and she yelled.

“Javi wouldn’t lie to me” She said I nodded

“Sure he wouldn’t” I started to walk away again when I yelled back, “Oh by the way I am sleeping with Tyler by the way, it’s quite normal for women to sleep with their fiancé’s”

“You’re… you’re getting married?”

“You would have known that if you answered any of my calls” I sighed “You know sis, I don’t know what Javi did or said to get you to come back out here… but just so you know he has other motives.” I walked back toward the truck, I opened the passenger door

“Boone get in the back” Tyler said

“Why?” I sighed

“Boone get in the damn back, before I make you stay here” He grumbled and climbed in.

“Ready baby?” Tyler asked

“Always”

What do you think??? Is this worth being continued???? Leave a comment and let me know.

[adverbally]

Wind Up Like the Wreck You Hide

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “Angst With a Happy Ending” | wc: 1,096 | rated: T | cw: hospital, heart attack, parental illness | tags: hurt/comfort, taking care of each other | title from “I’m Still Standing “ by Elton John

———

Eddie runs into the emergency room and directly into Steve’s arms. He can’t catch his breath, having hyperventilated the whole drive back to Hawkins and sprinted from the parking lot, but he’s able to gasp out, “Wayne-?”

“He’s okay,” Steve reassures him, rubbing his hands up and down Eddie’s arms. “He’s gonna be okay, they’re just gonna keep him overnight for observation.”

“He’s okay?” Eddie parrots. What does that mean? The words haven’t sunk in yet. Eddie was in Indianapolis getting ready for tonight’s show when Steve had called him from this very waiting room to explain that Wayne had a heart attack and Eddie needed to get to the hospital as soon as possible. Two hours later, he’s just… okay?

Steve shifts his grip to Eddie’s shoulders. “He’s okay. We got here fast and they took great care of him. He’s asleep upstairs right now.”

Eddie feels faint with the relief that sweeps through him. Though, as his knees go weak and he stumbles into Steve, it occurs to him that it’s probably just his adrenaline crashing.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Steve catches him under his arms and drags him upright again. “Let’s go sit down while I catch you up.”

Eddie doesn’t know what he needs to know other than ‘Wayne had a heart attack and it didn’t kill him,’ but he lets Steve steer him toward a bank of plastic chairs in the corner. He falls into a seat like a puppet whose strings have been cut.

Steve, angel that he is, pulls a notebook out of his pocket and begins telling Eddie what Wayne’s doctors had said. He had carefully written down phrases that he knew he wouldn’t remember once Eddie got there. Atherosclerosis. Nitroglycerin. Percutaneous coronary intervention. Angioplasty with stent. All the information Eddie would need about his uncle’s care, noted and defined in Steve’s neat handwriting. There are some items with question marks beside them, things that they might need to ask the doctors about.

Eddie’s eyes begin to water. Steve didn’t just do this for him, he did it out of love and concern for Wayne. He spent two hours gathering information and taking notes so he could understand what happened and figure out how to help. The notes on aspirin, the crude diagram of a blocked artery, the bullet point at the bottom of the page that says ‘diet?? medication??’ are all so Steve can take better care of Wayne.

Steve grips Eddie’s hand when he hears his sharp intake of breath. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but it’ll make more sense once we go upstairs and talk to Wayne’s doctor.” His tone is low and soothing.

“Thanks. I’m glad you were here to look out for him.”

“Yeah, of course.” He looks a little embarrassed by Eddie’s gratitude, like it’s a given that anyone would do the same thing. “He’s important to you, so he’s important to me. But he’s also a good man. A good dad,” he adds tentatively.

Eddie barks out a laugh. “You should call him that to his face, he would love it. Finally, a son who will watch sports with him and properly sort the laundry!”

“I don’t expect you to get it since ninety-nine percent of your wardrobe is black, but separating whites and colors really makes a difference!” Steve argues, blushing at Eddie’s teasing.

Eddie squeezes his hand. “Seriously, Wayne loves you. He calls you his son-in-law when he talks about you with his poker buddies. He brags about how all the kids at school love you and you’re the best second grade teacher in the state. Hell, I think he spends more time with you than he does with me.”

“He really does all that?” Steve asks quietly, like a wish that won’t come true if you say it out loud. When Eddie nods, Steve frowns, his lower lip quivering slightly, and looks down at the scuffed linoleum floor. “I didn’t know.”

Oh, shit. Eddie didn’t even think to ask how Steve was doing through all of this. He had called 911 and ridden in the ambulance with Wayne, had almost certainly paced around the nurses’ station waiting for news. Then, instead of going with Wayne, he stayed downstairs until Eddie got there so he could update him about Wayne’s condition as soon as humanly possible.

It was just like Steve to focus on taking care of everyone else, so natural that Eddie didn’t even think twice about accepting Steve’s comfort while offering nothing in return. And now that the immediate crisis is over, now that Steve has had a chance to breathe and start processing, Eddie thinks Steve might be on the verge of a meltdown.

Wordlessly, Eddie loops an arm under one of Steve’s and tugs him to his feet, herding him in the direction of the single-stall bathroom around the corner. By the time they’re inside, Steve’s whole body is shaking; by the time Eddie flips the lock on the door, fat tears are rolling down his cheeks.

“Sorry, I don’t know why…” Steve gestures at his face a little helplessly.

Eddie still doesn’t say anything, just pulls Steve into a tight embrace. His shirt grows damp where Steve has buried his face in his shoulder, and he feels Steve’s back shudder as he tries to stifle his sobs.

“I was really scared,” he confesses between gasps. “I just kept thinking how horrible it would be if I had to tell you—“

“It’s okay, baby,” Eddie murmurs into his hair. “You did great, he’s okay.”

Steve sniffles loudly. “I know, I’m just being stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.” It comes out more forcefully than Eddie had planned. He hates when Steve does that, puts himself down and invalidates his feelings. “That was a medical emergency. Just because it turned out fine doesn’t mean it wasn’t stressful.”

“I guess.” Steve pulls away long enough to grab a paper towel so he can mop up his face. He goes easily when Eddie guides him into another hug.

Swaying them both gently, he tells Steve, “You know, you don’t always have to put on a brave face. Let me take care of you once in a while.”

“I know,” Steve croaks. “I’m working on it.”

They stand there for another minute, both drawing strength from the other’s presence, before Steve clears his throat and releases Eddie. “I think I’m good. We should go upstairs now, Wayne’ll want to see you.”

“He’ll want to see you, too,” Eddie reminds him.

Steve’s smile is small but radiant. “Okay, let’s go.”