#thinking about him stealing all your scrunches and hair bands

[inaflashimagine]

nagumo in a ponytail…yes…

[gravedigginbbydoll]

Sweeter Than Sweet Tea

Eddie x Southern! Fem! Reader Blurb

AN: Hey y'all! So this came up while I was rewatching Steel Magnolias (one of my favorites)! I myself am Southern if you can't tell (lol). I def amped up the reader's southern belle persona, but it's a cute little bit of fluff to keep ya goin! But now I'm craving southern homecooking (namely fried okra and fried green tomatoes) and weirdly ambrosia salad and green salad (it's not really salad, its like fruit and whipped cream and nuts lol). But anyways enjoy and please reblog and like as per usual!

Warnings: Bullying, Southern Slang, Slight VIolence, Enemies to Lovers sorta, Fluff

When Eddie first met you, it was the equivalent of an old schoolyard crush. For some odd reason, he loved to get on your nerves. He’d tug on the closest part of you, make some inappropriate comment, and grin ear to ear as you tore into him. You never quite understood why. Until that fateful summer evening. 

Indiana got hot, sure, but nowhere near as blazin’ hot as your home back down south. You figured that was why some folks in Hawkins sometimes were so snooty, the summer sun wasn’t enough to melt their frigid hearts. Then again, you didn’t much miss the sweltering summers or the way the older women with hair higher than the heavens in your hometown would glare and mumble about you headin’ straight to the devil’s whorehouse for simply being comfortable. 

You were in town having a day for yourself, dressed as pretty as a magnolia in May. You wore your favorite sundress with some wedge sandals, your toes painted a pretty pale blue. You were looking around in the old antique shop, smiling down softly at a set of delicate plates. You were pondering buying it (after all, 5 dollars was a steal), when you felt a tug on your dress. You turned around, clouds setting on your sunny disposition at the sight of the ever rebellious Munson boy. He was dressed in a dark pair of jeans and a loose band t-shirt, his leather jacket hanging off of his shoulders. A cigarette hung from his mouth loosely as he grinned. 

“You headed to church, Darlin’?,” Eddie teased, exaggerating the drawl to mock your own. 

You frowned, pouting up at him. “No. I like to dress nice for myself. Now leave me be…” You scanned him up and down, frowning disapprovingly at his cigarette despite it being unlit. “And take that thing out of your mouth, for cryin’ out loud. You’ll give Mr. Millan a heart attack if you set off the fire alarm.” 

Eddie smirked while removing the unlit cigarette and tucking it into his jacket pocket, clearly not taking the hint. You tried walking away but he followed on your tail like a lost puppy. “C’mon sweetheart. It’s hard not to tease you when you look like you’re about to be awarded the best lil pupil in Sunday School.” 

You glared at him, out of the corner of your eye, your annoyance growing. “Well, now, Eddie Munson, I didn’t think you’d know what a church was if it landed on your backside. Can’t you ever learn to leave me alone?” 

Eddie’s eyes twinkled with mischief, his face full of boyish charm. If he wouldn’t be such a damn nuisance, you might have found his teasing charming…hell, adorable, even. He leaned against a shelf full of knick knacks and dusty books, looking comically large next to the tiny items. “Sorry, kid. You’re fun to mess with.” 

You huffed, turning to look at the collection of odd salt and pepper shakers and cookbooks. “You know I am not a child and I know you have about as much maturity as one.” You thumbed through a cookbook to keep yourself busy, scrunching up your nose at the recipes. You sure did miss pecans, frito pie, sweet cornbread and fried okra. Hell, you even missed those potlucks your mama used to host full of old gossipers trying to catch the latest town news. At least those old coots knew what an ambrosia salad or fried green tomatoes were. You placed the book back down. 

Eddie tugged on your dress again, grinning so wide you thought his mouth would split open as you spun around in a huff and yanked the pretty fabric out of his rough hands. “Now will you quit it! I’ve ‘bout had it with your dumbass!,” You exclaimed as quietly as you could in the practically empty store. You felt your accent come out thickener as your face heated up. “I'm leavin’ now. Good day, Eddie Munson.” And with a huff and a swish of your skirt, you were out the doors and back into the warm embrace of the sun, headed to Patty’s Ice Cream Parlor. You weren’t going to let that damned fool ruin your day out. 

You were sitting at a booth, enjoying your solo sundae of butter pecan ice cream and hot fudge. You sat there, stewing over Eddie’s consistent annoying quips and his obsession with bothering you. You stabbed your ice cream with the spoon, huffing softly. Where did he get off on bothering you anyway? You usually were polite and kept to yourself in town. You hadn’t made many friends outside of Nancy Wheeler who worked with you part time at the local dress shop when she was home from college. Maybe he found your mannerism funny, kinda like Jason Carver and his wife Chrissy Cunningham.

Chrissy and Jason often showed up to your job. The two were known as the town high school sweethearts who stuck around, Jason inheriting his fathers business while Chrissy stayed home. The two had it out for you since day one in town. You had shown up, dressed casually with your favorite pair of cowboy boots on and a cowboy hat to block out the sun. Chrissy and Jason had just happened to be at the diner you had stopped in, happy to welcome a pot of coffee and some pancakes. You sat at a booth, laying your hat down the right way, looking around. Hawkins had that old school charm. However, within the first few minutes, you’d received some backhanded compliments from the Hawkins’ Sweethearts themselves. Jason and Chrissy couldn’t help ever since then to laugh at your funny drawl, the foods you cooked, or even the clothes you wore. It was a pain. 

As if the two were summoned by your thoughts, you saw them waltz through the door, arm in arm, giggling away. You sunk in your seat, staring down into your sundae and hoping to disappear. You heard a jingle of a chain and a flash of black as Eddie came into the seat in front of you, making you sit up and forget about Chrissy and Jason. 

“Hey, Darlin’, I couldn’t help but-” 

“Edward Munson, leave me alone. I’ve had it with you-” You stood up to walk away, only to be met with a cone of chocolate ice cream smeared across the front of your favorite dress. You gasped, looking up into the eyes of Chrissy who stood there with an evil smile. “Oops.  Sorry, hun,” She drawled out, face twisted into a sneer as Jason laughed. You felt your eyes sting with tears as you sniffled and the room blurred. With a muttered, “Pardon,” you ran off to the bathroom. 

You stood in the bathroom, wiping at the gown with fury, wet paper towels piling up on the counter. You sniffled, trying to keep from crying. Why did you even try? Everyone in town laughed at you and called you a “Hillbilly Belle”, makin’ fun of you for your upbringing. You charmed the socks off of the older folk but got yelled at for calling people ma’am and sir, all of them assuming you were calling them old. You sniffled and wiped at your eyes, splashing water on your face with determination. You’d go out there, smiling and bright as ever, head home, and put on some Dolly Parton and some comfy clothes, snack on some Moon Pies and maybe even make a nice cold pitcher of sweet tea. 

You were headed out of the bathroom and down the hallway when you heard some arguing in the main area of the shop, the teen employees all terrified and huddled in the corner. You peeked around the corner, surprised to see the impressively angry Eddie have a fistful of Jason’s shirt and growling out some threats. 

“You keep your filthy grubby hands and your wife’s gross self away from that girl, you hear? She is too good for this town and I’m not letting two assholes like you run her off because you have nothing better to do with your life. Now leave a fuckin’ 50 on the table to pay for that pretty dress you ruined and get the hell out of here before I kick your ass.” 

Jason scoffed, eyebrows furrowed and expression in a snarl. “Whatever, freak. You would defend that hick. It’s not like she knows anything but how to farm and suck-” 

A sickening crack echoed through the ice cream shop and in a blur of arms and legs, you saw Jason laying across the tile flooring, holding his nose while groaning. Eddie stood over him, fists clenched at his side and shaking as your heart soared. “Now leave, jackass. Otherwise I’ll do a lot more than just break your nose.” Eddie’s tone took on a fearful growl, your skin raising in goosebumps and your face heating up as your breath was caught. Something about the boy who was usually chipper and overly flirtatious with you turning into a ticking time bomb at the first instance of you feeling unhappy made your heart skip a beat and your legs squeeze together. Jason scrambled to get up, dropping a 50 dollar bill on your table, rushing with Chrissy out the door. You shyly rounded the corner, watching as Eddie glared after them, hands still clenched. 

“Eddie?,” You softly called, the middle of the ice cream shop empty except for the two of the and the few teen employees who were probably waiting for you and Eddie to leave in fear of the protective metalhead. 

Eddie spun around, face softening as he walked up to you, careful to not touch you as he searched your face and person. “You alright? I’m sorry those two were being such jerks-” 

You felt your heart thump in your chest as you looked up at him, biting your lip. “Why did you do that?” 

Eddie looked shocked, his face going ashen. “You saw that?” 

You nodded. 

Eddie ran a hand down his face, sighing and looking about 5 years older. He bit his lip for a bit before looking at you and sincerity came across his face. “Look, I know it seems silly but…I like you a lot. Your silly little twang, the way you dress. I love how every time I go to Benny’s I know if you’re there based on if Dolly Parton is played on the old jukebox. I love how cute you are when you’re annoyed and how you’re the most polite person I know unless it’s with me. I like ya, Darling. And I don’t really like people messing with my things or friends,” He trailed off, playing with the rings on his bloodied knuckles, gaze drifting away in shyness. 

Your heart jumped to your threat, your mind racing. Now all the pieces of the puzzle made sense to you. Why Eddie hummed Dolly around you, why he left honeysuckles in your mailbox back home, or why he would stop by the dress shop at least once every few weeks claiming to be looking for something for his ‘cousin’ only to leave empty handed. You felt your insides turn syrupy sweet as you melted and kicked yourself for not realizing sooner. 

“Now we don’t-” 

You cut him off with a hand, looking up and smiling. “Tomorrow. Pick me up at 6 P.M. Dinner.” You poked him with a manicured nail softly in the chest, giving him a stern look. “And dress nicely please. It’s a date, not a football game.” 

Eddie perked up, grinning ear to ear as he blushed dark red. “Y-yeah, okay.” 

You walked off as he stood there in shock, completely forgetting about the big stain on your dress and waving bye, butterflies erupting in your stomach. You couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

[superblysubpar]

Today I am stomping around thinking about how I could be stealing a cozy too-expensive sweater and doing SO MANY cute fall things with WCIL!Steve if only he weren't such a dipshit.

Oh my GOD

I am now currently plagued with WCIL!Steve "tricking" you into a day full of all the fall date-not-a-date date things 💛 whoops:

Maybe he shows up at your place with a little pumpkin muffin and coffee , exactly as you like it. He knows you're free today cause you told him so in a text last night.

He looks good, a navy sweater and jeans and blinking sleep out of his eyes still as he sips his own coffee. He wasn't expecting you to answer the door in one of his shirts he misplaced or little sleep shorts and it takes next to nothing to convince him to hop in the shower with you. It's giggly kisses and soapy hands until he's staring up at you from between your thighs, water droplets on his tan skin and eyelashes as your back arches against the cold tile.

THEN he asks if you want to walk around, cause again, he knows you're not doing anything. Another coffee shop, you don't hold hands, because hello, you're not falling in love here. But the sliver of space between your skin pulses with tension, his knuckles brushing your skin burns and both of you look away and clear your throats as you wait for the coffee.

Walking with no real destination, Steve gestures to the thrift store. Quick to find all of their old vinyls, you tease each other over music tastes and Steve buys the one album you both agree is fantastic. It's when youre waiting in line at a food truck, your head tilted back and eyes closed as you soak up the sun that he realizes he doesn't even have a way to play the album. He orders a record player in line on his phone for same day delivery.

You're walking along the river now, close to being by his apartment, splitting a sandwich or something and you shiver. Steve takes zero pause and pulls off his sweater and the sandwich hovers before your lips as he hands it to you. White undershirt and his hair messier and more casual than he usually let's it get (the impromptu shower ruined all of his products and the wind and sweater removal are doing something very nice).

Slipping the sweater on, enveloped in his woodsy cologne, your neck scrunches, dipping into the collar as you try to take a subtle deep breath and hide your smile as his cheeks turn pink.

You happen upon a little stand selling pumpkins and flowers and you turn to him with a huge smile, asking if it's lame to want to carve one again like you did when you were younger and he can't say no.

You trail into a used bookstore next and watching you browse in his sweater as he holds a pumpkin is too much for him. Setting it down at your feet, he lets his hands rest on your waist, chin on your shoulder as he asks, "Found a good one?"

You're looking at the front page, nodding, explaining it was a book you'd been wanting to read for awhile but you trail off as Steve's nose brushes up your neck, lips pressing a sweet kiss to your skin before asking, "Can I buy it for you?"

Your breath hitches as his hands squeeze your hips before fingers brush the skin along the band of your jeans, playing with the button as his next question filled with a raspy grit slips past his lips against your skin, "Please?"

Your eyelashes flutter as his hot breath hits your ears and he presses himself up against your ass when you sigh.

"St-"

"Hey! Lovebirds! This is a family place!" A cashier calls out and you stifle your giggle behind a hand and Steve clears his throat snatching the book from you and going to buy it with red ears and glances back at you.

And later, in his apartment, after a fun and teasing time in his sheets, the albun you bought plays on his new record player and you sit cross legged on his kitchen floor. You're in his sweater and your underwear and that's it, hands covered in pumpkin guts. And

Steve stares at the missed call on his phone and tosses it somewhere he doesn't have to look at it. He grabs your cheeks and kisses you hard and passionate and soon you're both a mess on the kitchen floor laughing at the pumpkin guts in his hair and you still have his sweater on and you're totally 100% not falling in love.

[arcaneprism]

Wearing Each Other’s Clothes

Number 8!!! I think I started this when I was unwell cause I have no idea where I was planning to go with this but well, it went. It’s done. It exists.

This one is Julie & Everyone but mostly Sunset Curve for the clothes stealing and Flynn for the interactions ???? idk what was happening here but this was not my original plan it kinda just happened akdjlsfjklg

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Okay so Julie might be a bit of a clothes thief, sue her. You would think her friends-slash-housemates would have gotten used to her habits by now but somehow they still haven’t. Really, if you asked Julie, that was more their problem than hers, but they still insisted on making it her problem. They’ve known her for years now, they should get used to her stealing clothes. It wasn’t like they didn’t do it as well.

“I do not need an intervention,” Julie insisted, as Flynn looked over her with their arms crossed.

“Julie, not a single thing you’re wearing right now is yours.”

Julie looked down and she had to admit, Flynn was almost right. Julie was wearing one of Alex’s t-shirts tucked into Flynn’s jeans. She had layered up for the cold weather with Reggie’s flannel. Accessories wise, Julie had ended up stealing Bobby’s belt, Willie’s hair tie, and Carrie and Kayla’s hair clips. She’d try to argue that most of her bracelets were her own, but she definitely had a few of Luke’s tossed in which… she honestly wasn’t sure when she had grabbed them but they were there now. She wasn’t even wearing her own shoes, having stolen a pair of Nick’s sneakers this morning.

Julie opened her mouth, trying in vain to form an argument before she gave up, crossing her arms across her chest instead.

“At least I look cute.”

Flynn huffed out a laugh, grabbing Julie’s hand and dragging her out to the kitchen for lunch, “Yes, yes. You do, obviously, but girl, you’ve gotta start wearing some of your own clothes.”

“Hm… maybe.”

When they did get to the kitchen, Flynn ended up realising that her words would never have any effect on Julie’s thieving tendencies. As much of a clothes thief as Julie was, her band was equally as bad.

Julie grinned as she saw Reggie wearing her smiley face jumper, detaching herself from Flynn to compliment the colour on him. It was rare that she got to see him wearing something that wasn’t red, black, or white and the grin on his face when he saw Julie look all comfy in his flannel rivalled the grin on her jumper.

Alex was wearing one of her hats instead of one of his own. He looked to be in a rush and Julie remembered that he had had a date with Willie planned this afternoon. He dropped a quick kiss onto Flynn and Julie’s heads when they entered, patting Julie’s shoulder and scrunching the fabric of his t-shirt with a fond smile as he hastily said his goodbyes.

Luke barely looked up from his songbook when Alex left, completely engrossed in whatever new song he was writing. Julie figured she’d get to take a look at it later. His hair was growing long, his bangs starting to cover his eyes often and nowadays he often complained about how it got in the way of his writing. Julie nearly giggled when she realised that his solution to that was stealing one of her headbands to keep his hair out of his face.

“Oh, I was looking for that,” Bobby spoke suddenly, an eyebrow cocked as he placed the last of the dishes on the table, taking off the apron he was wearing and- oh. Somehow, despite being far taller than Julie, Bobby had managed to fit into Julie’s overalls. The pants of it somehow looked longer than Julie remembered it being given that Kayla had sewed the folds up for her last week.

Julie narrowed her eyes, “Did you take out Kayla’s stitching?”

Bobby shrugged, “Figured you could just fold it up when you want it again. You took my belt.”

“Well, you have Reggie’s.”

“Yeah, cause I couldn’t find mine.”

They started bickering, and Reggie looked at both of them fondly like he was watching kittens play fighting adorably. Luke appeared to not even hear what was happening around him, so engrossed in his writing.

Flynn sighed as she took a seat at the table and started scooping up some of the food Bobby had prepared.

Yeah, they were never solving Julie’s clothes theft thing. Not when it wasn’t just a Julie issue but a general Julie and the Phantoms issue.

[parkersroses]

it’s golden. | harry styles.

summary: Harry brings you to the Grammy’s and it all ends in a wonderful night. 

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k words

warning(s): all fluff, small mentions of sensual stuff

a/n: (disclaimer: gif belongs to @hers <3) hello! been a while! i’ve been wanting to write something since harry won a grammy award, which i’m unbelievably proud of him. so enjoy this cloud of unedited fluff. reblog and comment if you liked this. buy me a coffee if you’d like to support me further <3

The Grammy Awards had been an anticipating event you both waited for. In your honest opinion, you thought Harry deserved a nomination way back during the success of his first album or even his later One Direction days. 

Nevertheless, you couldn’t be more proud of your lover, having not been nominated once, but thrice. He himself couldn’t believe how Fine Line, a labour of his love and hardwork, was recognized on this scale. Luckily, you were both safely together in the comfort of your own home when the nominations were announced. That day was later filled with a lot of love and celebration for him, with you congratulating him as many times as you could, in many ways you could. 

The buzz about Harry being a Grammy-nominated artist instantly filled the set of ‘Don’t Worry, Darling’, nearly everyone congratulating the supporting lead actor of their film. Although Harry gets very shy whenever someone compliments his success, he still took pride in how his effort and resilience got him to where he was.

The following weeks were filled with preparation and planning, with Harry being announced that he would be opening the event. It was only fitting that he would perform Watermelon Sugar, considering it is now a Grammy nominated single. He had some doubts with the choice of song though. He knew it was a big and popular summer song and it had been playing everywhere since he released the song. Harry knew there would be some people that are just bored and tired of the song already and opted to change it.

However, you managed to talk some sense in him, knowing how award seasons like this can be nerve wracking.

“I’m just saying, it’s been playing around for more than a year. People are probably bored of it,” Harry said as he laid on your shared bed, staring at the ceiling like it was the most fascinating thing ever. 

Finishing up your skincare routine, you looked back at him. “And? If you want to perform it, it shouldn’t really matter if people got tired of it. I still love the song,” you reassured him. 

He lifted his head slightly off his pillow to look at you. “Yeah, but still. Maybe if I performed other songs from the album, people might enjoy the performance more.” He sighed as he plopped his head back on the pillow.

You quickly climbed in the bed, plopping right next to him. Harry grunted as you put your head on his chest and intertwine your legs, instantly wrapping his arms around you. He turned his head to press small kisses on the crown of your head. “Don’t know why I’m worried about it. I’m sorry if I’m being over dramatic about it.” He apologised to you. 

“You know I love your over-dramaticness nonetheless, bubs.” You comforted him, kissing above his heart as you looked up at him. “But you shouldn’t worry so much. If Watermelon Sugar is what you wanna perform, then you should go for it. It’s a Grammy-nominated song anyways. But just remember to have fun. It’s only your first time being nominated and performing there.” 

Harry hummed in reply as he stared into your eyes. Often times, he still finds himself mesmerized by your eyes despite the long years of you being together. “Besides, I’ll be there, in the front row, where you can look at me when you’re nervous.” You smiled at him and he smiled back at the thought of you cheering on him in possibly one of the most important nights of his life. 

Harry leaned up and pressed a kiss on your lips, sighing at mere taste and softness of it. “I’d really love that. Thank you, lovie.” He mumbled into the kiss, breaking away as he smiled gleefully at you. He truly did adore you and the little things you would do for him. You pressed another kiss on his lips, Harry was quick enough to return the action. “Anytime, bubs.” You said.

The week of the Grammys came by quickly, which meant Harry’s nerves only escalated from the day he found out he was performing. He had some costume fittings for the event to do and planning for how the set is going to look. He kept some secrets from you about what he was going to wear for his performance and you were initially upset about it because you enjoy getting a sneak peek into his fashion sense for these types of situations. But Harry constantly assured you that you’ll love it when you see it, although you always love whatever he decides to wear.

For all you know, he’d be wearing a trash bag and you’ll still think he is the sexiest man you ever laid eyes on. 

Eventually, the day of the Grammys finally came. Harry was almost certain that he was going to throw up in his room. He paces back and forth, trying to ease down his nerves. You told him you’d be running a bit late but promised him that you’ll be there before he could sing the first word of the song. Soon enough, it was time to go. He meets up with his band and they all huddle together to say some words of encouragement. It was a big night for all of them. 

About five minutes before he’s supposed to go on stage, he hears a familiar voice calling out to him. He turns around and sees his love running up to him, apologising profusely to those she bumped into. He grins widely and opens his arms wide for you to run into them. He hugs you tight, swaying you both from side to side as his hands feel the satin pink dress you wore. 

You both pull away with wide grins on your faces and you let your hands rest on his bare chest. “Bold choice of the outfit, Mr. Styles,” you tease him. Harry chuckles at you as he presses his forehead against yours. “Told ye you’ll love it, didn’t I?” he says and you hummed in reply. 

“I do. I really love it. Y’look like a rockstar,” you admit as you fix the leather jacket. Someone calls for Harry and it’s time for his time to shine. You pull his face down to your level and give a couple of good luck kisses, not that he needed any luck because he’ll do great no matter what. 

“I love you,” you said lovingly. Harry steals another kiss from you before he parts away. “I love you, too,” He says and winks at you, making your cheeks turn red as you put on your mask.

Just as you said before, you stay through the whole performance, your eyes always focused on him with the energy and charm he always brings into every show. You have to admit that his outfit was really doing things to you. You love how fitting the pants were on Harry’s legs, not to mention how great his ass looks as he danced around on stage. You did not miss the times where his jacket opened slightly and exposed more of his bare chest. Your eyes linger on the chest littered with tattoos you love to trace and give kisses and hickies on it. 

Similarly, Harry couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. The way the pink satin dress you wore hugged every inch of your body. Even behind the mask you were wearing, he knew you were smiling underneath it as you watched him sing. Admittedly, he wasn’t even looking at you because he was nervous; he simply was just admiring how absolutely ravishing you were looking. But that’s a thought he’ll get back to when the night is done. 

As the performance ended, the people around the set applauded. Harry bows down, humbly thanking them and a big smile breaks on his face when he hears your cheers. And it was moments like this where he loves the fact that you are his biggest fan. 

The both of you meet back in his designated room where he is supposed to change his outfit for the main event. He pushes your body gently against the wall as he desperately kisses you. Your arms are around his shoulder as you weave your fingers through his hair. He’s definitely going to get in trouble for that mess soon. His hands travel slowly down your body and stops on your behind, cheekily grabbing a handful. You moan into the kiss and Harry lets his tongue into your mouth. 

“Baby,” you say in between the kisses. “Gotta get you changed,” you giggle as he kisses you; he swears his heart flutters whenever you laugh. “Yeah? Did ya like my performance out there, lovie?” he asks as he lips travel to your cheek and down your neck. 

Harry feels you shiver and you could feel his smirk against your skin. You pull his face away from you and he pouts. “I love it. But you have to change for the main event,” you say and smile at his childish pout. You kiss the tip of his nose which makes him scrunch his face up. “Promise we’ll do this again later,” 

And his eyes widen at the suggestion and he steals a peck from you. “I’m looking forward to that, lovie,” he smirks. 

━

The event was definitely something you didn’t think you’d get to experience. You honestly had to pinch yourself, hoping that was actually Dua Lipa and Taylor Swift that were sitting a few tables away from you. With every category leading up to the ones Harry was nominated, you could feel his hands sweating as they’re intertwined with yours. Harry didn’t mind if he didn’t win, but the thought of actually winning was definitely there in his mind. 

You lift your hands, pull down your mask and press small kisses on the back of his hand, reassuring him always. And he smiles in gratitude at you. 

As they are announcing the nominees for Best Pop Solo Performance, Harry’s hand grips yours tighter and you rub his arm in hopes to ease his nerves. The moment you hear the words ‘Watermelon Sugar’, you jump up from your chair and scream through your mask just as everyone else in the room stands and applaud him. Harry, for one, is in complete utter disbelief that he is the winner. 

He stands from his chair, removing his mask, and gives you the biggest smile and tightest hug. “You did it, baby,” he hears you say in his ear amidst the applause, cheers and his song playing in the background. After giving Jeff a hug, he makes his way towards the stage. He picks up the shiny golden gramophone for a moment and sets it down before giving his speech. As he expresses his thanks and gratitude, you sit there looking up at him with the proudest face. Your heart feels warm knowing how this dream of his was finally a reality. 

His speech nears its end when he makes one last thank you. “And to my love, for always believing in me and always telling me to strive for greatness. You were the first person I shared this album in its entirety and you’ve given me the love and support that is beyond what I deserve. I love you endlessly and this wouldn’t have been possible without you. I feel very honoured to be standing here with all of you so thank you so much,” He thanks the audience again before leaving the stage so he could sit next to you again, completely forgetting about his award on stage which made you giggle. 

The night goes on and the both of you continue to soak in the magical night. At one point, you manage to have a conversation with Taylor Swift and you are surprised that you didn’t pass out. While Harry didn’t win in the other categories he was in, he was still grateful for the achievement and recognition he got. It was a marvelous night, he admits.

It was very late when you got home. You chuck your shoes away as you enter and quickly make your way to the couch where you could rest for a bit. Harry chuckles at you as he closes the door. He leans over you, smiling at your tired state and admiring your figure as your dress rises to your mid-thighs when you lie down. 

“Scoot over, bubs,” he says as he takes off his orange blazer and black boa. He squeezes in beside you, resting his face on your chest while holding you close so you don’t fall off the edge of the couch. He hums as he feels your fingers running through his hair, pressing soft kisses on his head. 

For a moment, he slowly feels himself falling asleep before he hears you gasp from above. “I forgot something!” you exclaim as you pull yourself off from under and rush to the kitchen. You hear Harry whine in protest as you leave him on the couch. “Bubs, I wanna cuddle,” he whines, his face smushed up against the couch as he misses your warmth. 

“One second, H!” you say back to him. He hears you rummaging through something and for a second, he is intrigued by what you have up your sleeve. Harry hears your footsteps coming back and hears you setting down something as it clinks on the coffee table. 

“Bubs, open your eyes!” 

Harry is tempted to just fall asleep right then and there, but he hears the excitement in your voice and sighs against the couch as he opens his eyes. There you are, with the sweetest smile on your face next to a small round chocolate cake on a cake stand. Next to it are some plates, forks and a knife. Harry gets up and sits down next to you. “W-What? Where did you get this?” he says as he smiles at you. 

“I made it for you. Today right before I went to see you. It’s why I was running late before your performance,” you beam at him and Harry looks at you in pure adoration. “I would’ve written something, like ‘Grammy Winner’ or something but that would be mocking you, you know, in case you didn’t win. But now you won and I kinda feel bad tha-” 

Your words are cut off as Harry smashes his lips against yours. You hum in delight as your lips move against each other. Harry breaks away and cups your face in his large hands. They may be rough due to the guitar scars he gets, but they’re where yours belong. 

“I love it, baby. Thank you,” he says sincerely and both of you smile, your eyes and heart holding all the love you had for each other. “I love you too. Anything for my Grammy-winner love,” you say softly as you peck his lips again. “Shall we?” you motion your head towards the cake. Harry agrees as he watches you cutting the cake for the both of you, his smile filled with love and adoration for you. 

And he admits that you are simply the most amazing person he has ever loved. He had the most marvelous and golden night with you. 

[melo-yello]

✨Self-Care Day✨w/ 💥🪨KiriBaku HeadCanons💥🪨

Off Day

💥🪨 You’re hanging upside down on the couch in your shared apartment with a boyfriend on either side of you. Kiri’s hand in yours while Baku’s had one hand on your thigh and the other scrolling on his phone as some cartoon drones on the tv

💥🪨 This is not how you envisioned your first free weekend into the last two weeks going



💥🪨 You sigh loudly before poking out your bottom lip “Suki? Eiji? I’m bored.” you pout dramatically as you throw a hand onto your forehead before you continue “Can we do a self-care day?”

💥🪨 Baku just grunts in affirmation as he stretches before standing. Kiri just smiles “Of course, Pebble. Whatever you want.”

💥🪨 You pop up pecking both guys on the cheek as you bounce off to the kitchen with Kiri’s hand still in yours “Thanks you two are the best!I’ll make tea!!!”

💥🪨 “And don’t you forget it!” Bakugou smiles popping your soft ass as he follows behind most likely to micromanage

💥🪨 You three chat about your week not having much time outside of courses to really talk. Between studying, training, and hero work you guys just didn’t have a lot going of free time.

💥🪨Per usual you and Kiri really carry the conversation Baku only chiming in ever so often to offer up things that he hates

💥🪨 You pop up remembering one of for favorite parts of a good ole fashioned treat yo self day. The cute headbands for you and Kiri to push your hair out of your faces. You return with a pink bunny one, a brown Teddy Bear one, and a plain black headband. Baku takes the black and Kiri takes the bunny.

💥🪨 “How do I look, Peb?” Kiri smirks flexing to show his broad ass built ass frame after putting on his bunny headband. “Ridiculous.” “-ly Hawt!” You laugh correcting Baku

💥🪨 You film in absolute awe as your Manly bf’s pierce Suki’s ear with ease after the off handed joke you made sipping tea. Cue Baku voguing it up with pride and a freshly pierced ear. Bakugou is slightly leaner and a couple inches shorter but just as toned

💥🪨 “Suki, Eiji, you are too manly!” You hype your man up as you post the video to your IG story

💥🪨 It’s your turn now!! Kiri easily pierces your ears with a red stud in your right and an orange in your left. Adding a second set of holes right above your first ones

💥🪨 Next comes high quality and novelty animal face masks Bakugou buys online to compliment his vigorous skin care routine. It rivals half of the YouTube Beauty community’s

💥🪨 Niether of you have any idea of where he buys them or where he hides them for that matter. He stores them away so you guys can’t steal them when he’s not around. Bakugou allows you and Kiri to use his masks on special occasions tho

💥🪨 “Mr. and Mrs. Dumbass.” He smirks handing you a frog and Kiri a tiger. Earning him a playful jab from you and “A Thanks, Babe.” from the red head

💥🪨 You suggest nail 💅🏾 polish next and Kiri is automatically on board. “Oooooo can you make them Red, Babygirl? Because they’d be so manly!” Kiri beams bouncing up and down. Baku will only allow his middle fingers painted. “I want white with bombs or just F U. Whichever is easier for you, Teddy Bear.” Bakugou nods scrunching up his nose from behind his own red panda face mask.

💥🪨 Kirishima’s nails are a simple sparkly red that say 🤍BITE MANLY in white while Bakugou’s middle fingers are white with black bombs with an orange F U on each one respectively

💥🪨 After you peel off your masks, you and Kirishima squeal in nearly perfect sync “Oooooooooooo! Sooooo Soft! Aren’t we hawt, Bakubro! Seeeeeeeeeee!” Both of you placing his hand on your faces

💥🪨Bakugou will just roll his red eyes into the back of his head as you two wrap him in a tight embrace “I’ve told you idiots a thousand times the importance of regular skin care with quality products.” He shrugs nonchalantly even thought he loves when you two are touchie with him. He hates to admit it

💥🪨 As you begin to search you nail kit for your preferred color, Kiri grabs your hand and presses it to his cheek “Can we do yours, Pebble?” He pouts. Bakugou follows suit grabbing your other hand “Pretty please, Teddy?” He whines firmly pressing your hand to his heart.

💥🪨 You buckle so fast it’s not even funny. “Bbbbbbbut...😤😖😞fine.” You concede

💥🪨These two really know how to put on the charm. Especially if Bakugou Kasuki is calling you Teddy instead of Dumbass.

💥🪨 “Great! Y/n, pick out a show to watch before we start.” Baku barks handing you the remote. “Why?” You question snatching it and putting on Criminal Minds. Simply thrilled you were getting to pick (Typically there were mini competitions for such a privilege)

💥🪨 “You’re judging, Bighead. You can’t look til we’re done.” Kiri hums thoughtfully trying to pick a good color combination. Baku already had his colors hidden in his lap before scouting so his hip was against yours sure to obscure your view of your own hand from you.

💥🪨 “Yea, no bias. When I win it’ll because I’m the best! Isn’t that right, Shitty Hair!” The ash blonde smiles cockily at the red head across from him. “In your fucking dreams, Spark plug!” Kiri spits backs just taking all the colors and copying Bakugou’s positioning

💥🪨 “If either of you fuckers, get those polishes on my favorite jeans there’ll be hell to pay.” You warn with a sinister tone to rival even Katsuki’s and the widest smile. The boys shiver at the seriousness behind your smile. Your threat is far from empty

💥🪨 You pretty much figured your nails would probably look terrible with each of your vividly different boyfriends competing with each other. “What do you, dorks, even get for winning?” You muse leaning into Kiri’s broad ass shoulder

💥🪨 “The next date plans and solo cuddles with Teddy Bear for the rest of the night seems fair to me. Huh, Eijirou?” Baku looks up from his work with a self assured grin blowing one of your nails. Vermilion irises float from you to Kiri.

💥🪨 Knowing damn well niether of them could keep you their hands off you. “Deal.” Kiri nods without giving Baku the satisfaction of meeting his gaze.

💥🪨 “Oh and I get shitly painted nails.” You sigh rolling your eyes. You’d be lying if you didn’t find it kinda hawt when they got like this

💥🪨 “There.” Halfway through the 2nd episode Kiri says and finally caps his last polish. Blowing gently across the surface of your nails.

💥🪨 By this time Baku has placed your arm on his lower back and his head in your lap. A firm grip on your wrist so you couldn’t checkout his work until Kiri finished. Your fingers make light circles there despite being held hostage. “Bout time, slow poke.” Baku huffs releasing your arm as you brought both hands side by side.

💥🪨 They had somehow managed to pick colors that didn’t totally clash. Kiri’s hand were mix match rose gold and pink with the teeniest (not to mention even) little white hearts in the middle of each nail.

💥🪨 Baku’s hand was very simple and clean. Black French tips with one red to orange nail with a black X on top as an accent.

💥🪨 You weren’t expecting anything this good. You could barely speak. You hadn’t been this lost for words since they had asked you out. You sniffle a lil bit. Your eyes glass up a little too.

💥🪨 God your partners are so great sometimes. The fact that they genuinely gave a fuck still manages to catch you off guard at times. After so many terrible relationships, effort, in and of itself, is kinda baffling

💥🪨 “Damn Pebs, it’s not that bad if you squint.” Kiri laughs nervously squeezing your shoulders. “Woah there, Teddy Bear, I’ll get the remover.” Baku stands ruffling your curls before you grab his wrist stopping him in his tracks.

💥🪨 “Suki. Eiji. Don’t be mad but I can’t pick! You guys both did really good! Fuck! I couldn’t ask for better lovers. You assholes are so much better than I deserve!” You gush before hiding your face in your hands. A little ashamed you let your boyfriends doing something as simple as your nails make you emotional.

💥🪨 “But Baby you deserve the world.” Kirishima immediately scoops you into a bear hug as he stands spinning you with ease and peppering you in kisses. Kiri places you back down even more gently than picked you up

💥🪨 “Princess, you’re a bad bitch! Don’t you dare forget it!” The shorter ash blonde says unwaveringly lifting your chin so you’d meet his eyes. He softly bops your forehead before kissing it and both cheeks. He pulls you close right as he yanks you up to straddle his waist

💥🪨 “Eijirou, I think our Babygirl needs a reminder of who she is and who she’s with.” His already deep ruby eyes darken lustfully. With no hesitation Kiri is right behind you in seconds

💥🪨 “I know just thing to jog our Pebble’s memory, Katsuki.” He whispers licking the side of your neck just as moves to capture Katsuki’s lips with his own

💥🪨 “Promise?” You moan softly lacing fingers into Kiri’s loose kitchens and trailing a cool hand across Baku’s abdomen stopping only at his joggers waist band

💥🪨 With that the three head to the bed room for some much needed group physical therapy

[amjustagirl]

Summary: She may mean the world to Iwaizumi Hajime but at the end of the day, Oikawa Tooru is his star. 

AO3 Link here

Sequel: Broken Compass

She used to think the universe intended for her to literally  crash into one Iwaizumi Hajime. 

One of her first assignments as a writer for one of the country’s top sports magazines was to cover the Japanese volleyball team’s season, and despite constant reminders from her editors  not  to screw this up because the men’s volleyball team is crazy popular these days, she manages to trip over her own feet and knock not just herself, but the newly minted team trainer to the ground. 

When she lifts her head from the ground, the first thing that hits her mind is -  goodness, he’s hot  -  he’s a veritable god among men, all sinewy muscles and sunkissed skin, and she can’t bring herself to speak as he carefully checks her once over for any signs of injury. ‘Are you alright?’ he asks her, and she nods dumbly as he pulls her to her feet and waves her off with a warm smile. The heat from his hands lingers on her skin long after she goes to bed that night. 

They meet again at the next match. He remembers her name, she gives him a friendly wave. Then at the next match, she cheekily asks for his comments and he huffs a laugh as he directs her to the team’s PR manager. By the end of the season, she works up the courage to ask him out for coffee, and he says yes . 

 Iwaizumi Hajime is everything she dreamt of in a partner - kind, caring, steady, his feet firmly planted on the ground. He always wraps his arm around her to pull her close when they walk along the edge of the road, and indulges her pleas for an extra cuddle – ‘ the last one, I promise! ’ - every morning when he leaves for work. They exchange long text messages late into the night when either of them are on the road, and nag each other for working too hard. When they lay in bed at night, he whispers promises filled with love against her skin, tells her he can trace the constellations in her eyes. 

It makes it so easy for her to close her eyes and believe that their love is written in the stars, so a year later when he asks her to marry him, she doesn’t hesitate to jump into his arms and say yes . The weight of the silver band he slips on her finger grounds her with his love, and her heart is full. 

She can’t stop feeling like a thief who’s snatched the sun from the sky. 

Oikawa Tooru is to be his best man of course. 

She knows who he is, she’s covered the sport long enough to have heard about him - the prodigious setter from Miyagi who never made it once to Nationals despite his obvious talent (an exquisitely crafted  katana  is, after all, no match for the brute force of a cannon), who spit in the face of fate and chased his dreams to sunnier lands. 

Iwaizumi has always been awfully fond of regaling her with stories of Oikawa, so much so that she thinks she can piece together their relationship - childhood friends turned longtime teammates, the long suffering ace and the monstrously brilliant setter. She watches his face soften uncharacteristically when he reads news about his old friend winning a match, and hardens when Oikawa whines loudly during their video calls about his bruises and sore knee. She can’t help but think Iwaizumi must have been like Jupiter, a god in his own right, drawn into orbit around Oikawa, a star burning over-bright. 

She knows they remain best friends despite their separation by whole continents, keeping in contact via video calls and text messages, playing hopscotch with the time difference. They certainly look like it when they greet each other at the airport, Oikawa trilling a playful ‘ Iwa-channn’ and Iwaizumi grunting at him to ‘shut up, they’re in public, dumbass!’, exchanging back slaps so loud it makes her wince. 

‘You must be the poor fiancee’, Oikawa gives her an exaggerated leer as he stands before her, hands on hips. ‘What did Iwa-chan drug you with to get you to marry him? Do you know he snores like a monster in his sleep? You know you can back out before the wedding right? Blink once if you’re ok, and twice if you’re not - and I’ll help you escape from him.’

Before she can respond to that frankly impertinent speech, Iwaizumi roars ‘Shut-up, Shittykawa’, tackling him into a headlock and wrestling him off into their car. She stifles a laugh as they spend the rest of the ride to Oikawa’s hotel room bickering back and forth. 

‘How did you manage to pack so much luggage for a two week stay, you vain piece of crap!’

‘I care about my looks and grooming - unlike some of us who skulk around in clothes they’ve worn since high school!’ 

 ‘Vainpot.’

 ‘Beast.’ 

 ‘Piece of shit’ 

 ‘Meanie’

Iwaizumi alternates between grunting and growling at Oikawa’s nonsense but his eyes are shining (so bright that she can see stars) and Oikawa’s retorts are punctuated with smiles that are impossibly wide. She thinks to herself it’ll be good for Iwaizumi to have Oikawa around.

Oikawa starts to call her ‘ Chibi-chan  ’ especially when Hajime is around to be annoyed by it – she admits she’s short, but not  that  short, it’s just that he spends most of his time surrounded by literal  giants  - and develops an irritating habit of ambushing her with quizzes about Hajime's likes and dislikes. 

'Favourite food?' 

'Agedashi tofu.' 

'Favourite movie?' 

 'Godzilla.’ 

After a few rounds of these pop quizzes, she looks at him like he's sprouted a second head. ‘Seriously, Oikawa-san, we're getting married in less than two weeks. Do you seriously think I wouldn't know the most obvious things about my own fiancé?'  

'Don't frown, Chibi-chan, you'll grow wrinkles and look old', he sing songs at her. 'I'm just making sure you're worthy of Iwa-chan's love!' 

'Stop bullying my fiancée, Shittykawa, or I'll beat you up so bad you can't move'. Iwaizumi rubs lazy circles against her back, and she leans against him comfortably. 

'Aww Iwa-chan, once a bone head, always a bone head’, Oikawa says, scrunching his face into a mock-sniff. ‘Say, Chibi-chan, do you know Iwa-chan would beat me up ‘til I let go all the cicadas we caught, but if they died, he would cry?' 

‘Are you calling me a crybaby, Shittykawa’, Iwaizumi growls dangerously, simmering down only when she coos at him, ‘that’s so cute, you must have been such a sweet child’. 

Then, sensing that her presence is probably stopping the boys from catching up fully, she shoos them out of the apartment on the premise that they should get some fresh air and cool off but really so they can get some much needed time together. ‘ And stop fighting’ , she calls after them, making good use of the quiet to busy herself with wedding preparations. 

When Iwaizumi finally returns home late that night, he finds her asleep on the couch, and with a soft smile he curls up around her. ‘Hajime?’ she breathes, nuzzling her nose into his neck, and he has to bite back the urge to cover her face with kisses, tightening his hold on her instead.  

‘I’m back’, he whispers, his breath warm against her neck. ‘Sorry I was out so long’. 

‘It’s fine’, she mumbles sleepily. ‘Did you guys have fun?’

‘Yeah - we went for dinner and then Oikawa dragged me to at least five different bakeries to find the perfect milk bread before he was willing to go for drinks’, he complains. ‘And he made me promise to go for drinks with Issei and Hanamaki tomorrow afternoon before we meet with the wedding coordinator’.

‘Mm’, she hums absently. ‘Oikawa seemed a little on edge earlier. I’m glad he calmed down and had fun with you’. 

Iwaizumi frowns into her hair, thinking back to Oikawa’s inexplicable needling of her earlier. ‘Sweetheart, if Oikawa is irritating you, I'll make him stop’. 

‘It’s fine’, she says, with a little more force than she intended, waving away the concerned look he gives her. ‘He’s your best friend, Hajime. I think he's just feeling a little insecure. You should spend more time with him while you still can’. 

He grins and kisses her warmly. ‘You’re too good to me. What did I do to deserve you?’ 

‘Because the universe willed that I love you’, she answers, as if it were the most obvious thing on earth. 

But Oikawa manages to find a way to wreck her well made plans.   

Iwaizumi finds her in the kitchen, back turned towards him, and the slam of the dishes on the counter makes him wince. ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart’, he tells her, wincing when she shrugs off his hand. 

'You skipped our appointment with our wedding coordinator', she hisses, whirling around to face him. ‘But that’s not the worst of it - do you know how scared I was when you didn’t pick up my calls? I thought you got  hurt  or heaven forbid - got run over by a car and died,  Hajime!’

‘I’m sorry’, he repeats, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. 'I got engrossed in catching up with Hanamaki and Issei, and Oikawa stole my phone so I lost track of time. I kicked his ass for it, you could've heard him whining about it from outer space’. He slyly slides an arm around her waist, resisting her attempts to pull away as he buries his nose in her hair.  ‘I'll make it up to you, I promise'. 

'Make sure you do', she huffs, leaning into his warmth. ‘And what was Oikawa’s reason for stealing your phone?’ 

‘You know Shittykawa, he probably thought he was being cute. I’ll make him apologise,’ Hajime replies, pressing his nose into the crook of her neck. 

She relaxes a fraction, breathing in his familiar scent - fresh linen and pine and  home, but that doesn't ease the knot of something  -  she can't quite put her finger on what it is just yet - weighing down in her chest. 

True to his word, Iwaizumi drags Oikawa by his ear to lunch with them the next day, not letting go until he apologises to her with an appropriately chastened expression on his face. ‘I’m sorry, Chibi-chan, I shan’t do it again’, he tells her contritely, but when Iwaizumi’s back is turned, he shoots her a puckish grin brimming with mischief that makes her toes curl. 

She ignores him, and lets herself be drawn into the flow of their conversation - Oikawa complaining incessantly about Ushijima Wakatoshi and Kageyama Tobio whom she’s met many times in the past few months and he shoots her dirty looks when she archly tells him that she thinks they’re lovely men, Iwaizumi getting on Oikawa’s case again for not eating enough, for not sleeping enough, barely able to restrain himself from violence when Oikawa responds with a trilled ‘  Iwa-chan, you sound like my mother ’.  

The conversation meanders off to their Seijoh teammates she’s not terribly familiar with, so she’s caught off guard when Oikawa abruptly turns to her with shit-eating grin and asks innocently ‘Say, Chibi-chan, what about Iwa-chan caught your eye?’

‘Have you looked at him?’ she says, playfully nudging a blushing Iwaizumi with her elbow. ‘He’s built like a god.’

Oikawa’s smile turns sickly sweet, showing far too much teeth. ‘In that case, I’m surprised you didn’t go for one of the volleyball players instead. Or was Iwa-chan your last attempt? You’re twenty-five this year, after all.’ 

A glance in Iwaizumi’s direction shows her exactly what she expects - first, his mouth drops open in a wide-eyed, open mouthed gape, then fury burns white hot across his face, and she has to grab his hand before he causes a scene by throwing himself bodily across the table to strangle the smirk off Oikawa’s face. ‘I can fight my own battles’, she mouths at him, willing him to stay in his seat, her hand still pressed firmly against his.  

‘Well, you did ask me what first attracted me to Hajime, and I didn’t lie - I was really drawn by his looks’. 

 She inhales and lets herself be drawn back to the warmth of the memory of tumbling head first into Iwaizumi’s arms, and exhales to look squarely at Oikawa. ‘But then I fell for his kindness, his steadfastness, his patience - and when he told me he loved me, I felt as if the universe had handed me the sun, the moon and the stars’.    

Her answer must have touched Oikawa’s shrivelled little heart, she thinks to herself, because something  in his eyes shutters and a look of respect streaks across his face. ‘Well said, Chibi-chan, well said’, he says begrudgingly. ‘Iwa-chan is lucky to have you’. 

The rest of lunch passes without incident, and when she and Iwaizumi are finally back home, he corners her as she’s about to go to bed and asks quietly - ‘Sweetheart, did you really mean all of that?’  

‘Of course I do. I love you, Hajime. Do you need me to count the ways?’ 

‘Maybe’, he responds playfully, circling his arms around her as she pulls him to bed. She lies in his embrace, ear pressed to his chest and falls asleep to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, the ebb and flow of his breath, the rise and fall of his chest.

When Iwaizumi calls out that he’ll be gone to the bar down the street for an hour or two to vet Oikawa’s best man speech, she certainly did not expect him to burst back into their flat with Oikawa held bridal style in his arms. It would have been a comical sight - Oikawa’s bulky frame dwarfing even Iwaizumi, legs looking ludicrously long dangling over Iwaizumi’s arms - but for the frantic expression of Iwaizumi’s face and the desperate way Oikawa clings to Iwaizumi’s neck. 

‘Idiot bumped his knee while doing shots’, Iwaizumi explains to her distractedly, as he settles Oikawa onto their couch. ‘I don’t think it’s serious, but I’ll take him to the doctor in the morning to check him out just in case. Brought him to our place since it’s closer than his hotel room, and I can keep an eye on him overnight’. 

She hands him an ice pack. ‘Why don’t you two take our bed, and I’ll take the couch? He’ll be more comfortable that way, and you can watch over him at night.’

‘Are you sure?’ Iwaizumi frowns, and she nods, pushing him towards his friend while she turns to fetch a set of spare pyjamas for their unexpected guest. Iwaizumi lifts Oikawa to their bed and together, they strip him of his clothes and, mindful of his knee, gingerly slide him into clean clothes. 

‘Iwa-chan’, she hears the lanky setter whine as she makes to leave the room to bring an extra ice pack. Turning her head, she catches a glimpse of Hajime bending over Oikawa’s form. She’s not sure if it’s a trick of the light, but she  swears she saw Iwaizumi brush his fingers against Oikawa’s forehead with a quiet tenderness he’s only ever shown to her, tucking his hair behind his ears. For some reason, it makes her heart clench. 

She’s gathering the discarded clothes up from the floor whilst Iwaizumi’s in the shower, when Oikawa shoots his hand out to grab her wrist. ‘I’m sorry’, he tells her, a plaintive note in his voice.  ‘I tore it up – I should never have tried to tell him.’

‘What?’ She gives him a bewildered stare. ‘What are you talking about?’ 

‘Iwa-chan’, he slurs, and she can smell the alcohol on his breath as she moves closer to him to catch his words. ‘He got mad with me, madder than I’ve ever seen him before.’

‘You mean Hajime? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he doesn’t stay mad with you, whatever it is you’ve done.’

He shakes his head. ‘I’m sorry’, he manages to say, and starts to cry. She flounders, unsure whether to comfort him herself or call for Hajime to deal with him (because she’s not stupid, it’s painfully obvious he resents her), but the look in his eyes is so heartbreakingly vulnerable that she can't bring herself to leave him alone even for a minute, so she sits next to him on the bed, rubbing a soothing hand against his back while he soaks her sleeve with hot tears. ‘You’re drunk and injured, Oikawa-san. You should rest’, she murmurs, easing him back against his pillow when his sobs cease and he seems to calm down. 

As she bends down again to pick up his clothes, he gives a cry of alarm and tries to grab her wrist again, almost flipping himself off the bed. Hearing the commotion, Iwaizumi rushes into the room, hair still wet from his shower, barking loudly ‘you idiot’, forcing Oikawa to lie back down onto the bed. She backs out of the room, leaving Hajime to comfort his sobbing friend. 

 She doesn’t think too much about Oikawa’s strange words, mentally writing it off as another one of his odd little quirks. But as she’s folding up his pants, a stack of torn papers falls out of its pocket, and she thinks she recognises the words ‘Iwa-chan’ scribbled all over it. Though she knows it’s wrong to invade his privacy – especially when he’s in no position to defend it, she can’t help but be curious, reasoning to herself that it must be his best man’s speech, she should at least vet through it once before the wedding. 

It isn’t hard to piece the scraps of paper together, the tears uneven, as if made in a fit of panic or rage. It is, as she thought, Oikawa’s best man speech, and it starts out as expected, with well wishes to Iwaizumi and her. But as she continues reading, running her finger over each word, etched so harshly into each page that the ink bleeds, it becomes evident that that isn’t the only thing Oikawa meant to say. 

‘I know it’s too late, but I love you, Iwa-chan’, she reads with growing horror on the very last page, a suspicious water stain next to these words. Mind whirling, unable to process what she’s just read, she sits at the kitchen table reading and re-reading his words until her vision starts to blur. 

 ‘There are times I wonder if I chose wrong, if I should have held fast to you, the other half of my soul rather than going off to fight in hopeless wars, because I should have known you won’t always be waiting for me to come home. But I will always love you - like the moon loves the sun, even if I can only watch you from afar, so full of light’. 

She should be  furious  – she should head straight to Oikawa and scream and shout and stamp her foot at him, because how dare he say these things  now  when he’s had  forever  to say them to Iwaizumi before she even came into the picture – how dare  he wait until she and Iwaizumi are less than ten days away from being wed. But she doesn’t, because deep inside her, she understands. 

How can she begrudge his love when they love the same man?  

‘Sweetheart’, she faintly hears Iwaizumi say, squinting in the light as he emerges from the dark bedroom. ‘Is everything alright?’ he asks, his voice heavy with concern when he catches sight of her tear stained face.

She wants to tell him that everything’s just fine – but his gaze shifts to the torn papers in her trembling hands and she knows immediately everything is not fine at all when he looks back at her with guilt and anguish branded on his face. 

‘Did you know?’ she asks, hating the way her voice starts to break. 

‘He told me just now’, he tells her heavily, dropping into the seat across her, his hands cradling his head. 

‘Do you love him?’ she demands, ignoring the sob that’s threatening to tear itself out of her chest. 

He looks up at her. There are tears in his eyes. 

‘Yes’, he admits. ‘I don’t want to, but I do’. 

His words knock the oxygen from her lungs, leaving her with a crater in her chest. He loves  Oikawa Tooru, this beautiful, brilliant, broken boy, incandescent with the light of a thousand stars. 

Where does that leave her? 

(Stranded in the dust, abandoned in the dark)  

She suddenly feels as if she’s trapped in her own skin, a vise that’s far, far too tight, burning with the need to turn herself inside out. ‘I need to go’, she manages to spit out, stumbling over her feet. He stands in alarm, reaching towards her but she slaps his hand away. ‘Don’t touch me’, she hisses, grabbing her wallet and phone through a haze of tears. 

‘Where are you going to go?’ he demands, barring the door with his large frame. ‘It’s late, it’s not safe.’

‘Anywhere that’s not here’, she snarls, trying to shoulder her way through. ‘Let me go, Hajime – I can’t stay here, please, let me go!’ She slams her fists against his chest, collapsing to the floor at his feet when she realises it’s impossible to break through the immovable force that is Iwaizumi Hajime. 

‘Let me go somewhere that isn’t here’, she begs him, hiccupping through her tears. ‘You’re hurting me more by making me stay here with him’. 

He sinks to his knees to cup her face in his hands. ‘I’m sorry’, he sobs. ‘I couldn’t bear it if I lose you too’. 

She doesn’t have the heart to tell him he already has ( because she can’t stay, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts), and when her stillness convinces him it’s safe to turn his back to her for a second, she slips through the door and disappears into the night. She hears him shout her name, hears the anguish in his voice, but she doesn’t stop running until she’s safely ensconced in a nearby hotel room.  

Her phone keeps buzzing through the night. ‘Iwaizumi Hajime ’, it reads,  ‘Iwaizumi Hajime’, flashes on her screen, again and again. She tries her best to ignore it, turning her phone on to silent mode, leaving it face down on the dresser but she can’t - her ears still echoing with the heart wrenching panic in his voice. So she rolls over to her phone and sends him a text – ‘ I’m fine, go to bed, you have a doctor’s appointment with Oikawa to worry about tomorrow morning’  – quickly switching it off before he can flood her inbox with desperate calls and texts. 

She tries her best to fall asleep, but she ends up lying awake, counting the cracks in the ceiling. The air in the room is far, far too still, and she feels like she’s suffocating, buried alive from the sand and dirt and earth pouring into the cavity in her chest. Against her better judgment, she uncorks the cheap spirits in the hotel minibar and pours herself shots, one after another, until she drops off to sleep with a single thought swirling around her head. 

The universe isn’t fair - because first it gave her Hajime, then it took him away. 

It is noon when she wakes, sunlight streaming mercilessly into the room. She sits up with a groan, rubbing a hand across her face. For a second, she wonders where she is, the monochrome sheets so different from the cheerful patterns she uses in their room, before reality  slams into her like a comet to her chest. 

Right. That happened .  

She can scream and cry and try to scratch the face of fate but it won’t change matters. Hiding away from the world isn’t going to make the cruel joke that is her love life go away, so she grits her teeth and steels herself, washing her face and paying the bill before heading home (though if she’s honest with herself, she’s not sure if it’ll be  home for much longer). 

She prays to god or whatever deity there is out there (not the universe, it has a funny way of throwing  shit her way) that Iwaizumi wouldn’t be home, but whatever it is, it’s definitely not listening because Iwaizumi opens the front door while she’s still struggling with her keys. It takes just one look at him for the pain in her chest to make its presence felt again.  

‘How’s Oikawa’s knee?’ she casually inquires, edging around him to slip into the flat. Oikawa doesn’t seem to be around, so she lets herself relax just an inch. 

‘It’s fine’, he responds, his eyes never leaving her face. ‘Just needs some rest’. 

‘That’s good’, she says absently, heading straight for the kitchen, ignoring him as he follows her steps. ‘Have you eaten?’ she asks, pulling leftover rice and dashi stock out of the fridge. He nods dumbly as she heats them both up to assemble two bowls of Ochazuke . Her heart may be broken, but her stomach certainly isn’t, and she’s not about to let herself wither away. He looks at her dumbly as she slides his bowl at him, and neither of them says a word until she leans back in her chair, satisfied with her meal. 

‘Are we going to talk?’ he asks her confusedly.  

‘About last night? What is there left to talk about?’ she replies, keeping her composure firm. ‘The wedding’s off obviously, so we need to inform all our vendors and guests as soon as possible. I think I should be the one to move out of the flat – ‘

He cuts her off frantically – ‘What? Why would we call off our wedding? I still love you, and you still love me, don’t you?’

She gapes at him incredulously. ‘Hajime, you told me last night that you love Oikawa. How is our marriage going to work if you love someone else?’ 

‘But I love you’, he says, his voice cracking. ‘Isn’t that enough?’ 

No it isn’t, and she’s shaking her head because it isn’t enough, it’s never going to be enough, because he may love her but he’s in love with him – has been since they were little boys with stars in their eyes. And his shoulders shake and it’s his turn to cry because  he loves her, he really does, he knows greed is a sin but he wants both him and her, and he wishes that it could be enough. 

 ‘I’ve seen the way you look at him, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you’, she tells him, eyes dry, but there’s a tremble in her voice that she can’t hide - because she’s so stupid, she should have figured this out long before she dug out her heart and handed it to him - but then again maybe she didn’t because she was blinded by staring too long at the sun. 

‘You will grow to resent me if I keep him from you and besides, how could  I possibly compare?’  

Because Oikawa Tooru, blessed with innate brilliance and cursed with a penchant for self-immolation, burns brighter than a thousand stars. 

‘I’m sorry’, he tells her, rounding the table to drop to his knees before her, the look in his eyes so heartbreakingly sad that she has to choke back a sob. ‘You meant the world to me’, he whispers brokenly as he buries his face in her lap. 

‘I know’, she answers him – and gods, her heart is screaming and it hurts - but she loves him so much she knows it’s only right to let him go. ‘But the world will move on, and you need to chase the stars while you still have them in your sight’. 

At this, he lets out a quiet cry, and this time she gives in and joins him, her tears soaking his hair. He wraps his arms around her as she presses kisses into his skin and they stay that way for a while, their limbs entwined, because it finally dawns on both of them that this is it  - it truly is the end of them.

The sun may set and the moon may rise, but the stars - they burn bright in the sky. 

Her love for him should die (from earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust) – but it doesn’t.  

She packs her life into cardboard boxes and shifts into her sister’s flat. Iwaizumi doesn’t allow her to pay for the cancellation of their wedding, takes all responsibility for informing their guests that the wedding’s off - he says it’s his fault after all, and she doesn’t resist, knowing it’s his way of trying to make amends.   

His face crumples and he tries to refuse her when she returns his ring, but she insists - because it doesn’t feel right, she can’t seem to smile when the silver band catches the sun's light. He doesn’t tell her he keeps it in a box beside his bed, and opens it from time to time.

Oikawa manages to weasel her sister’s address out of Iwaizumi and appears on her doorstep the day before he’s due to return to Argentina with a bushel of white lilies in his arms. 

‘Wait!’ he cries, catching the door with his foot as she tries to slam it into his face, cursing the reflexes of a professional athlete. ‘I won’t take too much of your time’, he promises, and she folds her arms, glaring at him expectantly. 

‘I’m sorry. I’ve treated you and Hajime terribly, haven’t I’, he asks her shamefacedly. 

‘You have’, she tells him coldly, because she desperately wants to blame him for everything bad that's come her way but when he hangs his head, she can’t help but soften her tone. ‘But I understand, Oikawa. How could I blame you when I love the same man?’ 

‘I don’t deserve your kindness’, he responds quietly, after a pause. 

‘But you have it’, she tells him. ‘So live and be happy, for his and my sake’. 

When he leaves, she closes the door and sinks to the floor, burying her nose in his offering of lilies. Its scent is cloying sweet, but she can only taste the bitterness of ash in her mouth.  

A year later, and she’s back covering the Japanese men’s volleyball season when she runs into one Iwaizumi Hajime again. 

He is the first to speak, asking her a genial ‘how are you’, to which she replies ‘fine’, though she really means - ‘I may be wounded, but I am still standing on my feet’. But Iwaizumi understands -  he always does , and they stay silent for a while. 

She picks up the courage to ask after Oikawa, and she knows he’s trying his best not to light up as he tells her that though he’s back in Argentina, they’re pursuing a long distance relationship. In turn, she tells him about her new boyfriend, ruefully mentioning that though she tried to stay clear of volleyball boys, Akaashi Keiji not only used to play volleyball in high school, but is the best friend (and former setter) of Bokuto Koutaro, national team player and self-proclaimed ace. He laughs at that - but she does not mention it is a relationship born out of the heartbreak reflected in both of their eyes.

‘Are you alright?’ he asks her before they part. It’s ironic because these are the first words he’s ever said to her, but she swallows the memory and this time she responds truthfully.

‘It’s a work in progress and I’m getting there, one day at a time’.  

They exchange bittersweet smiles.

It’s enough for now.

[powdermelonkeg]

Missing Links: A New Hyrule

This story has a prequel called Secrets in the Breeze! Go check it out!

My Missing Links

Wind took a deep breath, savoring the scent of the breeze as blew by. It had been awhile since he'd smelled salt in the air.

It was good to be back near the ocean.

One by one, the other heroes came through the portal, which shut behind them with a blue flash. Hyrule looked at Wind curiously. "Do...you recognize this place?"

"Nope!" Wind spun around with a bright smile. "But we’re near the sea! That’s always a good sign!”

“I beg to differ,” Legend muttered, taking note of his surroundings.

It wasn’t much. They stood atop a cliff that overlooked the sea-bordering countryside, with a sparse collection of villages tucked into the nooks of the nation. But what caught the pink-haired hero’s attention most was the network of golden roads that stretched across the land, leading towards a grand tower far inland.

In the shadow of the massive building stood a castle; one the young man immediately recognized, which threw the whole tower into proportion.

It was...big.

“So, here’s the plan.”

The redheaded man slapped a map against a tree, stabbing it through with his hairpin to keep it in place. He snapped his fingers, and the circuits of his prosthetic hand lit up in timeshift blue. “We came in here,” he said, drawing a glowing X over a place in the north of the Forest Realm. “The loser that stole my control slate ran off, and we got lost chasing him. So now we’re down here.” He circled Whittleton Village.

Fox watched the hero explain with wide eyes, fixated on his glowing fingertips.

“The guy could be anywhere,” he continued. “HOWEVER, if he knows how to calibrate it right, he probably has a map updated on the slate. And if he knows what the slate does, which he has to in order to pull a stunt like he did twice in a row, then he’d head for Hyrule Castle.” Taps drew an arrow towards the castle and tower in the distance. “We’ve already lost a day just getting out of Lost Woods. He’s probably way ahead of us if we travel on foot. But if we use one of the minecart guardians people drive around here...” He traced his finger along the minecart tracks that stretched across the land. “We can probably beat him there, as long as we catch one within the next couple hours.”

He spun to face his companion, clicking the drawing rune off. “Any questions?

Fox’s hand shot in the air. “Mr. Link? How does your arm work?”

Taps gave him a flat look. “Timeshift-powered output core.” He gave his prosthetic a solid pat. “Sheikah tech. Not what we were talking about. Any relevant questions?”

“...Well...” Fox rubbed the back of his head. “The...guardian things...they take passengers, right?” He looked at the hero with big eyes. “So, don’t they charge rupees?”

Taps paused. He hadn’t considered that. “...We can stow away.”

“Absolutely not.” The Hytopian put his hands on his hips sternly. “These people have lives to live outside of us. It’s wrong to steal labor from them.”

“They’re not GONNA have lives to live if this timeline gets screwed with by my slate!”

“Then we should get money fast, shouldn’t we?”

Taps’ eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms. “I didn’t exactly bring my wallet with me when I got yanked through time and space. You plan on selling your extra clothes for it?”

Fox gasped in horror, hugging his bulky luggage. “Never!”

“Well then. Not that big a problem, is it?”

Fox bit his lip. “...Give me one hour,” he finally said. “If I can’t earn us enough rupees for a trip by then, then we can talk about stowing away.”

Taps rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He held up a metal finger. “You’ve got one hour.”

Legend walked along the strange track, examining the golden triangles beneath his feet as he followed the rails. The power in them tugged at his attention, no matter how hard he tried to look away.

What were they?

“Hey.” An elbow dug into his shoulder. “Hyrule to Link, are you there?”

Legend side-eyed the offender crossly. “No.”

“Well then,” Warriors replied, smirking. “I guess that means I get your share of lunch.”

“You touch my apple pie and you find out exactly what my medallions do.”

“Ouch. Touchy.” He followed Legend’s line of sight down to the ground. “Must be an interesting road.”

Legend nodded, looking back at the tracks. “They’re...powerful,” he said, gesturing to them. “They radiate magic, and they feel...Hylian. Like they’re alive.”

Twilight shuddered. “I certainly hope they’re not,” he said, giving Epona a pat. “The last thing I want to worry about is living roads.”

WOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

The Chain jumped in unison at the loud sound, attention forcefully torn from the Spirit Tracks at their feet.

Off in the distance, blurred by a shimmer of heat, a steam-powered machine charged down the tracks at breakneck speed. With a frown, Twilight whipped out his Hawkeye mask to get a better look.

It was HUGE; it had to be at least as tall as three horses standing on top of each other. As it rounded the bend and headed towards them, he got a good look at its segments—a house, a tray, and a cannon?

Twilight squinted, adjusting the mask’s scope. “What in Farore’s name...”

“What is it?” Time asked, raising an eyebrow.

“...Some kind of mechanical caravan.” Twilight concluded after a moment of thought, lowering the mask. “And it’s not stopping. We should move.”

WOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! 

“NOW.”

Quickly, the group got off the tracks, giving them a WIDE distance.

As the steam-powered beast approached, it let out a shrill, screeching noise, causing the heroes to clamp their hands over their ears in pain until it finally rolled to a stop with a pressurized hiss.

Time slowly lowered his hands, shaking off an involuntary shiver at the redead-esque noise. “Everyone alright?”

Hyrule groaned, rubbing his ears sorely. “I think I finally feel bad for DIgdogger...”

“We’re fine,” Four answered. “I’m going to have a headache for the next week and a half, though...”

“Tell me about it...what even WAS that?” Wind asked, scrunching up his eyes as he popped the pressure in his ears.

“‘Hoy!”

The seafarer suddenly snapped to attention at the familiar greeting.

“’Hoy!”

Link leaned out of the engine cab and waved to the band of...soldiers.

They had to be soldiers, right? They had swords and armor. Maybe there was a ceremony or something coming up.

One of the group, a young-looking boy in blue, waved back to him. “‘Hoy, stranger!”

“Everything alright?” Link called. “You look kind of...lost.”

The group looked between each other. “We kind of are,” another one said, a heavily-scarred one with a long ponytail. “Can you tell us where we are?”

“Just west of Whittleton. Where are you trying to go?”

“Hyrule Castle town,” the most heavily armored one replied. “Is it far from here?”

Link looked the group over critically. “...Not really. It’s a 20 minute ride by train. Can I ask who you guys are?”

“An orchestra!” The kid that had initially greeted him exclaimed.

“...An orchestra.”

“Yep!” He pulled out his baton. “See, I’m a conductor, and he’s got a harp, and he’s got an ocarina...”

“What are you playing, then?” Link said, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh-”

“Song of the Hero,” the friendly-looking one in the white cape supplied. “It’s a classic.”

“...Right.” Link held back a sigh, feeling like this was going to be trouble. He could just leave them...

...But this was Bulblin territory. He’d feel bad.

He could just tell the guard captain to be on the lookout once he got to Hyrule Castle. That’d keep them in line, right?

“...Do you guys want a lift?”

The train ride was such a change from walking everywhere. Granted, it had been difficult to convince Epona to climb into the passenger car with them, and Legend was sharing a VERY uncomfortable stare with a fluffle of rabbits gathered at his feet. But, for the vast majority of the heroes, it was a chance to rest their legs and watch the scenery fly by.

And it was incredible.

The only comparable thing Wind had seen in his travels was speeding around on Linebeck’s steamboat, and even that required him to be focused on not running into barrels and sandbars.

This, though? It was smooth. The train ran in a straight line, zooming by acres and acres of land without so much as a bump in the wrong direction, with endless ocean through one side of the car and towering mountains through the other. Thinking fast, he pulled out his pictobox and snapped a few shots as he went along.

When the train made its first stop, the screeching sound was notably more bearable through the barriers of the cabin walls. It still made Hyrule wince, but it was a far cry from the veritable scream they’d had to endure before.

As it finally came to a full stop, the engineer that’d picked them up peered into the cabin. “Nobody get up yet, we’re not here. I’m just picking up some more passengers.”

Time raised an eyebrow. “You do this kind of thing often?”

The stranger gave him a deadpan look. “Nope. Never in my life.” Without another word of explanation, he shut the door.

Time stared after him, taken aback.

Had he just....been sassed?

A moment later, the back door of the cabin opened, and two new passengers entered.

“I told you I could pay fare!”

“Yeah, yeah. Still think we could have saved money.”

They sat in the back seat, bickering quietly and, to Legend’s relief, attracting the fluffle away from him. As the train resumed its travel down the road, he found himself listening in to their conversation.

“-plan once we get there?”

“We start looking. Duh.”

“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”

“Look, if someone uses it, we’ll know. It’s not exactly an easy thing to- ...hide.”

Curious at what had made the newcomer trail off, Legend looked back at them over his shoulder.

The redhead—the one who had ended the conversation—was staring at Wild in shock.

The pink-haired one, on the other hand, Legend recognized instantly. His head spun; the Chain had only just gotten the means to time travel themselves, how had the Hytopian guy with the friendship tokens-?!

Feeling Legend’s gaze on him, Fox looked up, unnerved, then froze in shock as he came to the same conclusion Legend did.

I know you. You shouldn’t BE here.

Suddenly, the train heaved, throwing everyone out of their seats. The once-smooth ride came to an abrupt halt as the train derailed, skidding across the raw ground with a terrifying SCREECH before grinding to a halt and tilting precariously. Twilight and Wild both scrambled to grab Epona and brace her as the car finally tipped, landing on its side with a crash.

Silence hung in the air for one brief, panic-laced second.

Then, in an instant, the redheaded stranger shoved his companion out the back door and vaulted over the cabin seats, barreling into Wild and leaping for the front door. As Wild was abruptly yanked out of his daze, he spotted the Sheikah Slate in the thief’s hand before the redhead made his escape.

Fox stared at Taps as he ran outside. “What are you doing?!”

“Shut up, I’m focusing!” Taps said, frantically clicking through the slate. “Where is it, this layout is atrocious-”

“Did you just steal the-”

“He had my control slate!”

“They had SWORDS!”

“So do we!” Taps stopped on a screen, and sighed in relief. “Finally!” With a blue flash, he summoned his Divine Beast, wasting no time in clambering on board. “Come on, get on!”

“But my clothes-”

“HEY!”

The two time travelers looked over as Wild emerged from the train car to shame mankind, eyes blazing with fury as he raced towards them.

Fox squeaked in alarm, quickly leaping onto the Divine Beast and clinging to Taps. “Drive, DRIVE!”

Wild did his best to give chase as the duo sped off, but his mortal Hylian legs couldn’t keep up with the ingenuity of Sheikah technology. Before his very eyes, two complete strangers fled into the distance with his Divine Beast.

Link picked himself up off the ground, clutching his ribs in pain as he raced back towards his toppled train.

He had so many people on board, he had a horse back there. If any of them were hurt—

Without a moment’s thought for himself, he threw the cabin door open. “Is everyone okay?!”

Everyone jolted, reaching for their weapons in panic, when suddenly, there was a yelp of pain from the back seat.

Sky clutched his stung hand as he dropped the Master Sword, staring at the engineer in shock.

“You’re...one of us.”

[sekceesimps]

The Dragon’s Requiem (A Zhongli x Reader x Childe oneshot)

Summary:  Zhongli reflects on his past with the reader as he watches her move on with someone new. 

angst with fluff and maybe a lil nsfw?

Pairing:   (past) Zhongli x Reader. Childe x Reader  

a/n  NOT THE GENSHIN HCs GETTING 600 NOTES WHAT THE HECK THANKS EVERYONE! That was such a great present to wake up to (who needs a S/O? smh I have my 200+ tumblr followers). 

I tried writing the reader as gender neutral, but since I’m a female it might not have come across as that, so I’m sorry ahead of time. Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys, leave some requests and feedback (it means so much to me)! 

Sincerely Coffee 

Your fingers tangled gently into his dark locks, tugging him closer to you. You smile softly at him as he delicately places light kisses across your face and jawline, slowly inching towards your neck. You bask in his warmth and glowing attention as you arch your back to get even closer to him. In times like this, he couldn’t help but admire everything about you. From how happy you look, to the way you slept so peacefully just moments ago, or the way that you would look in a few minutes with your face flushed and begging for him.  

Zhongli has always been a man who lived in and cherished the past. He could spend hours talking about Liyue’s history or explain the customs and cultures of a time long before. It would bother some people, but never you. He admired you so much. Your patience for him, the openness of your heart to allow him to come into your life, and the unique beauty you had that surpassed anyone else in his eyes.      

He never really cared for humans. Yes, he knew he had a responsibility to them, but he never truly loved them. At least, he never loved any mortal the way that he loves you. He has been alive for thousands of years, but he had never felt this attached to someone, especially not a seemingly simple mortal. It was his strange attachment that made losing you all the more difficult.    

His greatest insecurity had always been his lifespan. If he could give everything up to spend his life with you, then he would have. He knows he has responsibilities as a protector of the nation of Liyue, but the promise of your sweet embrace and a meaningful future with you was too good to pass upon. With you, he wasn’t stuck in the past, but looked towards the future. 

“Childe! You’re such a tease,” your soothing voice sharply breaks him out of his reveries of the past. 

“Well it’s not my fault that you’re too stunning to contain myself around,” the harbinger known as Tartaglia shot back playfully and moved to grab for your hand. You take quick notice of his actions and allow him to wrap his fingers around yours. 

“Can we have dinner there!” you point excitedly at the Liuli Pavilion. 

“Anything for you, love” he grins and pulls you two towards the restaurant. 

The crowds parted at the sight of the young Fatui and his darling Y/N. He was accustomed to showing them off to everyone, proud of being able to pull someone as stunning and kind as them. Zhongli looks down, feeling sick, was that the feeling of seeing his dear Y/N with that man. He didn’t really move on. He stayed in Liyue’s harbors, sometimes you even caught glimpses of the God who stole and broke your heart in a different time. 

“I love you,” Childe grins after pulling away from you. Allowing you to catch your breath following the heated kiss, before you respond, 

“I love you more,” smiling back at your boyfriend before leaning in to steal another kiss. You move your arms to the back of his head, digging your fingers into his hair as he passionately returns your kiss. His own hand traveling low and playfully squeezing your ass. It was a simple show of affection between a young couple in love. A couple that most everyone was familiar with and adored. Of course the two of you thought you were in a secluded area, but there are people who have known this land and it’s hiding spots for years. 

It was a shame, he thinks, as he watches you and the auburn haired man enjoy your day out together. Together. The word really hits him right then and there. You had moved on past your days with the archon.              

He knows it’s selfish to continue to long for you. He left and hurt you so unfairly. You were someone precious to him, and he broke you without a care in the world. 

“Zhongli, are you ok?” you asked meekly as you walked into your shared home. He’s agitated, pacing and scrunching his eyebrows. The normally calm composured man looked flustered and sad in a way. 

“I want to take a break” he pronounced unexpressively. With blank amber eyes he tore your heart out. No, I don’t want this. I want to be with you forever. I don’t want to hurt you, he chides himself internally

Your silent tears hurt him more than any wound he’s received in battle. This is for you though. You don’t deserve this pain, but what you feel now is infinitely better than the suffering he would inflict on you in the future. 

He stops himself from reaching out to you. That would only serve to give you false comfort. He leaves without another word, heart shattering more and more as you finally let out your sobs behind the door. This will be better for you, he justifies to himself, I could never give you what you wanted. 

It was you who changed him. It was you who showed him how to really and truly love someone for the first time in his thousands of years of life. It was you who made him want to be better and grow. 

“Why do you love me,” you asked suddenly, breaking the calm silence between you two. 

“What kind of question is that?” he had questioned in return, slightly tilting his head to face you, truly puzzled as to why you were asking something like that. 

“Well I’m not particularly special. My fighting skills are average. I’m not as attractive as others around here. I guess I’m just wondering why a God like you is interested in someone as average as me. I’m sorry this is probably annoying you” you mutter and turn away from him slightly to hide your face. 

“You’re not average. You’re stunning, brave, true, and compassionate. You are so much more than even that. There has never been any other mortal that has ever captured my attention like you have. I only have my eyes for you so don’t apologize,” he answers honestly, gazing into your eyes, which were now welling with tears. 

“I love you,” you whisper and let him wrap his arms around your body, pulling you close to him and offering a comforting touch. 

“I love you more than you could ever imagine,” he mumbled into your hair and placed a light kiss on your forehead. 

Something inside of Zhongli curls up and dies when he hears your illuminating laughter and head thrown back, as your E/C eyes gleam in the sun’s light. That should be him making you laugh. Him causing your happiness. Him kneeling on one knee. Him devoting his life to you. 

“Yes!” you exclaim in shock at seeing the man you’ve spent the last two years with get down on  one knee in front of you.

“I haven’t even asked anything yet,” he teases as he slides a silver band onto your finger, “but I’m glad you said yes.” you smile back at him and place soft kisses all across his face. 

“Come on, let’s eat some golden shrimp on the roof over there!” he declares as he places another kiss on your cheek right before he takes off towards the roof of a building on the harbor. 

This would be the final time Zhongli swears to himself again as he takes another glance at your grinning form. He knows it’s a useless promise because he knows that he’ll be back soon. 

He thinks it’s ironic that it took leaving you to realize how much he can’t live without you. 

As he turns away from the scene of the grinning couple, his heart crumbles, but it’s the thought that you would finally be happy, keeping him from breaking forever. Yes, he would be at your side for the rest of his days, it may not be in the way that he wanted, but he holds you too dear to leave for good. 

“Goodbye for now my darling Y/N” the archon murmurs. He hopes you hear his requiem for what the two of you had. For what he would still protect and cherish, even as he watches it get replaced by someone you deserved more. 

You hear a familiar voice faintly echo as you cling further into your now asleep fiance's arms and rest your head on his shoulder. As you feel a shadow of a kiss on your forehead you can’t help but think back to those precious times with your geo archon, “Until we meet again Zhongli. Perhaps in a different life I’ll be enough for you,” you whisper into the night.  

The dragon lets out his final song, all the while your own resolve crumbles away, longing for the man you once called home, but accepting this wonderful future with a man you love. 

a/n  Feel free to drop a like or comment, it boosts my fragile ego. In a bit of pain if you couldn’t tell. I’ve also gotten too addicted to this game and it’s sekcee characters, please send help 🤧  

[how-masterful]

To Have Your Cake (And Eat It Too)

Dhawan!master x Reader

Summary: The Master has gotten himself tied up. On your birthday of all days. Stuck in a straightjacket and with no idea how long its going to last, you decide to treat your Time lord with a share of your sweet and sinful birthday desires

Notes: for the second year in a row, this is the official how masterful birthday fic™ for her absolutely beloved @plethora-of-imagines . happy birthday, my love! I hope through all the chaos of losing the first draft, flaky internet connections, and a crippling desire for this fic to work out, you hopefully enjoy your birthday gift! 🥳❤💫

this fic was partly inspired by this piece of artwork by @/thoscheii

The Master tugged angrily on his arms, for the fifth time that minute. He grit his teeth together, yanking his shoulders downwards. 

It was a fruitless effort. 

The straight jacket still refused to budge.

“I’ve tried everything, Master. You really are stuck in there until those time locks fall off.”

He tugged once more, before sighing and sinking back into his chair.

“Great. Absolutely magnificent.”

It was a stupid idea. You’d told him as such. The planet of the bachelors, solo men that thrived on their isolation from women. Females within the species simply didn't exist. The Master had seemingly decided the best idea in the universe, something he’d say about every new plan, would be to try and blend in in order to steal some exciting world destroying weapons (and obviously refuse to tell you about the details). It would be an absolute piece of cake, he’d decreed as soon as he’d planned it- sneak in, steal the plans, sneak out. It would only take fifteen minutes or so. That was 7 hours ago.

However, in his pride and… underestimation of the species’ intelligence, he’d made a single, glaring oversight.

He hadn't taken the bloody wedding ring off of his finger.

“Have you really tried everything?”

You turned from your position leant against the console, sending him an offended expression. The Tardis hummed and whirred in your defence.

“Yes! Every single idea you gave me!”

“Are you sure?”

You widened your eyes in an expression that hopefully conveyed to him it wouldn't be wise to ask again. The Tardis beeped rapidly, hoping to dissolve the tension. Still leaning against the console you folded your arms, looking down at your husband. 

“Yes, Master. I promise. I really think you’re just gonna have to wait this one out.”

The Master let out a loud and rather obnoxious groan. He let his head fall back, scrunching up his face in a look of pure annoyance. But even that expression of disappointment, and most likely rage, couldn't be fully executed. The thick red collar that sat around his neck propped up his head like a neck brace.

To his credit, taking off his ring wasn't something he had to do often. Since the day he’d put it on for the first time it never seemingly came off. That was part of his overt sentimentality that you secretly adored. Plus, it hadn’t caused any problems for the pair of you. The ring, a golden band engraved with endless circular Gallifreyan, sat snugly on his finger and often shone, even in low light. It acted as a symbol, a sign to other creatures great and small that he was indeed a taken Time Lord. It matched your own, your wedding band sharing the same design that comfortably nested itself upon your own hand. Of course, yours had to share a finger with the engagement ring- a white point star, shrunken perfectly to sit and shimmer in a band forged from the oldest nugget of gold in the universe.

You looked down at the ring, smiling fondly at the glimmering star that sat on your finger. It shifted and refracted at even the smallest of movements, even in the low light of the Tardis. From there you looked up to see the Master still trying to flop back his head, grumbling and muttering something most likely threatening to himself. You tilted your head, watching him struggle, before carefully making your way over to sit yourself down in his lap. Taking his face in your hands you carefully brushed over his cheeks with your thumbs, the anger and rage that simmered in his expression slowly melting away as he stared up at you with a rare, rather defeated expression.

It wasn't often that the Master was the one in need of saving. At least in the typical, damsel in distress sort of way. It was no secret that the Master had a history of getting in over his head, especially when it came to the Doctor and their centuries long rivalry- from the Autons all the way to the Kasaavin, the Master would sometimes need that extra helping hand. But with you, he was always so proudly in command. The Master of the situation, one could say. With you he would stride in, proudly taking control over every situation: if you were in danger he’d burst in burning with unstoppable rage, guns blazing- more likely TCE blazing, and would happily destroy anything and anyone that was in the path between you and him. Only now it was him that required the whole rescuing thing.

Seeing him like this, bound in a jacket with timed locks that simply refused to budge, almost made him look humbled. But of course he wouldn't let something so small destroy his persistent (And slightly enjoyable) egomania.

“It suits you, y’know.”

The Master rolled his eyes.

“Is that your way of making me feel better?”

“I’m serious. I never thought I'd say it, but you suit a collar and straight jacket.”

The Master bit back a laugh, sending you an incredulous expression.

“Really? Is that so? Because I feel like a knock off Houdini. Even I don't deserve that.”

You pouted dramatically, sticking out your bottom lip. Your hand reached up to ruffle his already messy hair, earning an even angrier scowl.

“You’re enjoying yourself far too much. Just you wait until I get out of here.”

“Aw, is the big bad Master angry he's got his collar on and matches his wife?”

The Master gave a reluctant laugh, narrowing his eyes like a cat. You tickled under his chin with your fingers, enjoying watching him attempt to squirm away. You could tell he was trying so hard to seem offended, but the way he subtly titled his head to grant you more access to the strip of skin under his chin made you believe otherwise. 

It was also undeniable that the thick red collar that sat around his neck matched your own. It seemed, to the Master, that his collaring of you was a pre marriage arrangement. Your own was a rich, purple leather that curved around your throat, lined with golden velvet that sat flush against your skin. Golden hardware, buckles and rings decorated the piece, making the thing look incredibly lavish and expensive- and judging by the Masters taste, it probably was.

“Don't patronise me, love.”

The Master was scowling again. It looked rather cute. You placed a quick peck to the top of his forehead, watching him scowl in return.

“I can't help it Master, you look like a kicked puppy. All grumpy and angry. You know Its your own fault you got into this mess.”

The Master opened his mouth, ready to argue to the ends of the earth as to how he wasn't responsible for the consequences of his own actions. This argument was neither new, nor something you wanted to get into again.

 Suddenly, you had a thought. It was a naughty thought, rather nefarious. 

Though not deadly, the thought was slightly dangerous. If only for what the Master might do when he finally got free. Yes, this was an ample opportunity for you to follow through, and use the new situation to your advantage. He’d be so proud, you thought, if it wasn't him in said situation. 

You pushed your finger against the Master's lips, catching the Time Lord slightly off guard. Once again, his eyes narrowed.

“Move. Your. Finger.”

“I’m pretty sure this is the universal symbol of shut up and listen, Master.”

The Time Lord pressed his lips into a thin line, glaring absolute daggers in your direction. Slowly you pulled your finger away from his lips, moving your face so close your noses almost touched.

“Fine, I'm listening.”

“Of all the days, Master. You had to choose today. Lucky for you, the Tardis thinks there's not much time left on those time locks. Lucky for me, it gives me just enough time to have some fun with you.”

If the Master's eyes were narrow before, now they were creeping wide. You could see the calculations his brain was performing behind his eyes, all the thoughts and possibilities swirling around in his head like brain soup. Rarely was the Master ever in a situation where somebody intended to have fun with HIM. Usually it was the other way around. This was a new sensation, a feeling of which the Master in all his years of existence had yet to fully comprehend.

Was this… what nervousness felt like?

It wasn't long until he was about to find out.

In all his time, cataloguing his thoughts and trying to figure out what you could possibly mean, the Master failed to notice you slipping from his lap and heading off towards the kitchen. With a skip in your step, you quickly made your way towards the piece of delicious, freshly baked cake that sat under the crystal glass dome on the counter top-  grabbing a fork on your journey back as you circled, returning to the door from which you came.

Quickly scarpering back to the console room, you could see the Master still thinking, his eyebrows furrowed as he tugged at the jacket once more. He really did look like a curious cat, sneering at the problem at hand while also being absolutely fascinated. You carefully made your way towards the Time Lord, letting out a small cough to break him from his focus. Suddenly, his head snapped up towards you, his mess of hair flying backwards as he looked from your smug expression to the plate in your hand, before turning back to your face with a knowing look.

The large triangle of birthday cake, decorated in thick frosting and rainbow sprinkles, sat upon the fine china plate. 

“What are you up to now?”

“You decided to get yourself tied up on my birthday. You’re going to enjoy this slice of cake with me even if I have to feed you it by hand. Now open.”

The Master watched intently as you held the fork to his lips, sending you an unimpressed expression.

“There's nothing on it.” he deadpanned.

“I know that,” you sighed. “Hold it for me while I get myself comfortable.”

The Master rolled his eyes, before opening his lips and taking the fork between his teeth. He looked like those flamenco dancers that would brandish a rose in their mouth while dancing, only slightly less flamboyant. Though the Master definitely was no stranger to flamboyance, if his past regenerations and even more recent plans were anything to go off.

“What on earth are you planning?” he mumbled through gritted teeth, watching you precariously place the plate upon his thigh. His eyes watched with absolute wonder as he saw what you were doing.

Carefully, in front of the Time Lord, you began to tug at the hem of your underwear from beneath the already rather short dressing gown- the pile of clothes you’d rescued him in already sat in a pile in the corner of the room. You slowly shimmied your panties down your legs, his eyes never leaving your body as you purposely drew out your movements. You could tell the Master was fascinated, the way his chest had begun to rise and fall slightly faster than usual. Methodically you teased him, slipping the underwear from your legs and throwing them on to the pile. Your hands then slowly wandered to the Master's knees, the Time Lord taking in a deep breath as you fiddled with the zipper of his trousers, pulling it down to expose his underwear. You took hold of the plate on his thigh before it toppled, using your other hand to pull down the waistband of the Masters underwear, carefully freeing the Masters hardening cock. You could hear him let out a low, guttural groan behind the fork.

Without breaking his gaze you straddled over his thighs, pushing your body against his own as you sank yourself down to sit on his now firm cock. You gasped softly as you felt him inside you, the Masters left eye practically twitching as he bit down on the fork in his mouth. You rocked backwards and forwards a couple times, settling yourself down in his lap, before you brought the plate to sit between your chest and his own. Soon after, you finally reached to pull the fork from between his teeth. The Master was staring at you, wordlessly, lightly panting for breath as you smiled oh so innocently.

“There,” you teased. “Much comfier.”

The Master was working his way towards catching his breath.

“You know… if you were anybody else… I'd kill you for this.”

You laughed lightly, measuring out the size of the first bite with the prongs of the fork.

“Good. Because if anybody else did this to you, I'd kill them as well. You’re my husband after all.”

“You’re getting far too cheeky, love. I think you need reminding who's in charge here.”

You leant forwards in the Masters lap, purposely shifting your hips. You couldn't help but smile at the involuntary gasp he gave.

“What are you going to do, Master? Spank me? With what hands?”

The Master met your gaze, matching your expression. Your faces were mere inches away from each others, your eyes daring each other to make the next move.

“You’re in so much trouble after this.”

“You can't punish the birthday girl, Master. That's just plain old rude.”

The Master chuckled fondly.

“Forgive me for misplacing my manners, dearest. I must’ve left them with my hands.”

“Apology accepted.”

You nipped at the end of his nose with your teeth, before giggling cheekily and leaning in for a kiss. The Master, in all his superiority and domination, couldn't help but kiss back. He always failed to stay fully angry at you. Your noses brushed together as you stole a kiss from each other's mouths, the pair of you dissolving into quiet laughter once you parted. 

“Let me have this moment, Master. Please.”

The Master pondered for a moment, tilting his head dramatically to the side and watching your hopeful expression blossom onto your face. He huffed out a sigh, looking up at you with another defeated expression. Only this one was full of genuine fondness.

“Fine.” he sighed finally. “Because it's your birthday.”

Your smile was absolutely beaming. You pulled the end chunk of cake onto the fork, holding it up to the Masters mouth. The frosting was almost dripping back onto the plate from the fluffy, bite sized piece. He parted his lips, waiting for you to place the cake into his mouth.

“Say please, Master.”

“Don't push it, Y/n.”

You simply shrugged in return, before placing the cake into the Master's mouth. As he chewed you gently began to circle your hips, lightly moving atop his cock, generating a small amount of friction. The Master gave a quiet moan, letting his eyes flutter shut as the cake melted on his tongue. He licked at his lips, catching the small trail of frosting and sprinkles that had remained on his lips.

“How is it?” you purred softly.

The Master smacked his lips together, before giving a lazy smile.

“I’m enjoying myself more than I anticipated.”

“Poor Master, did you think I was going to torture you?”

The Master chuckled as you offered him another piece of cake, parting his lips and watching you intently as you teasingly pulled the fork slowly from his mouth. You continued to twist and circle your hips, the Master's eyes watching you almost hypnotically. You could feel a hot flush begin to creep up your face, the apples of your cheeks blushing a sweet red as your shoulders began to relax. The Master smirked, watching you break off another chunk of the sprinkle covered cake. Only this time you placed it into your own mouth.

You could see why the Master reacted so positively. The flavours swirled and collided in your mouth, your taste buds exploding with sensory pleasure. Your hips swivelled and rocked, much like clockwork, as you rolled your head over your shoulders and gave a deep moan of pleasure.

“Shit, that's a good cake.” you admitted, fluttering open your eyes. The Master was licking his lips, hands lightly tugging on the straightjacket as you licked the frosting from your teeth.

“It's almost as nice as our first wedding cake.”

“Go on, take another bite.”

Weakly, you nodded, breaking off another chunk with the fork and placing it on your tongue. The ‘yes Master’ you gave was almost a whisper.

You did the same for your husband, feeding him another chunk of the cake while continuously building a rhythm of motion atop his cock. The Master was groaning, harder than before, a light sweat beginning to form on his brow. He couldn't help but notice how much closer you’d pressed yourself to his torso, the cake almost sliding from the plate that was now practically diagonal against your chest.

“Y’know, it's not the first time I've worn something like this.” the Master admitted between mouthfuls.

“Seriously?” your voice was almost lost behind a moan.

“White straightjacket, red collar, I think they- fuck- chose something from my personal history to cage me in.”

The Master was now beginning to thrust his hips up against yours, jostling your rhythm and causing you to give a shocked gasp of pleasure. The plate almost fell from your chest, barely being caught by your spare hand and the edge of the fork.

“Master, yes-”

You bit your bottom lip to suppress the guttural moan you wanted to give. The sweetness of the cake mixed with the burning deep in your belly was causing your senses to go into overdrive. The Master was methodical, thrusting up as best he could with the top of his body tied in place. His movements were sending chills shooting up your spine, knowing exactly how to make you gasp for breath and beg for more. He always knew exactly what you desired, his body and mind instinctively understanding every primal desire you had. Maybe you were just obvious. Or perhaps he was more sentimental than he let on.

Soon the once imposing slice of cake was nothing more than a single section. Crumbs and sprinkles poked from the corners of your mouth and onto your lips, the Master's teeth gnashing upwards in a bid to lick them away. Your speed and ferocity had increased to the point where you needed to stabilize yourself atop the Masters thrusting cock. Both of you had begun to sweat. Something needed to give.

“Master, I need, fuck-”

“I swear to god, let me taste you.”

The Master was panting like an animal.

“The plate-”

“Fuck the plate. I’ll buy you as many as you want. Come here, do as you’re told.”

You gave an inhumane snarl as the fork clattered to the floor, your fingers grasping hold of the last square of cake. Frosting oozed down your fingers as you relented your grip on the plate, the small black plate crashing down onto the hard wood and shattering into thousands of shards. The Master opened wide as you bucked your hips, your fingers pushing the cake firmly against his mouth. Sprinkles and crumbs smeared over the Masters lips as you abandoned all inhibition, your own mouth diving in to follow as your lips crashed together in an animalistic kiss. Teeth and tongues slashed and battled for control as the sweet concoction oozed down your throats, the taste of the frosting melting into the taste of each others mouths.

Crumbs and sticky decoration stained the clean white straightjacket as your fingers clasped hold of the Masters shoulders, your forehead pushing against his as he snarled into the kiss. Your hips thrusted furiously against his own, the pair of you rising and falling against the back of the chair as you begged for friction and every sensation you were willing to share. Your fingers fisted into the back of the Master's hair, the other hand stroking down his back and running over the intricate set of time locks that connected the jacket together in an intricate lattice of latches. You tugged on them as you went, growing deeper into the kiss as you bounced yourself up and down in the Masters lap. 

You could feel yourself getting close to the precipice of satisfaction, the Master's teeth nipping at your bottom lip as his tongue licked over the mess. Your noses pushed together as you hissed in delight, your body clamouring for release as you whined pathetically in his ear.

“Master, so close” you begged, tugging on his earlobe with your teeth.

The Master snapped his teeth together, pushing his forehead against his own.

“Don't you dare cum” he barked, groaning as you licked down the side of his face.

“Please, please I can't-”

“Listen to your Master” he growled in your ear. As if that would do anything but make it worse.

The Master continued to thrust and groan, his face flush almost as red as his collar as he edged you closer and closer to release. You struggled to even control your mouth, groans and cries of pleasure escaping your throat as you completely fell apart in the Masters lap. Everything was building up inside of you, your body absolutely ready to feel the warm wave of release course through your very being. All you were waiting on was the Masters word.

And then it finally arrived.

“Cum”

You felt your whole body ricochet from the sudden release of pressure. Your scream was painfully desperate as you felt yourself fold into nothingness in the Masters lap. You gave in completely, the warmth spreading through your entire body as you climaxed hard and fast upon the Masters still hard cock. Tears were mixing with the streaming sweat as you slumped forward against the Master's chest, the Time Lord chuckling as your exhausted eyes fluttered shut on impact. You were about to sleepily flirt, much like usual, sweetening the already malleable Master with your flattering words and praises, when a loud bang sent your eyes flying wide open.

One by one, the time locks that ran up the Masters spine unclasped and plummeted down to the floor, collecting in a heap as they slid through the back of the chair. You picked your head up to look at the Master, sweat dripping from his brow and sprinkles caught in his stubble, watching as the Time Lords face slowly began to spread into a dangerous grin. You felt a chill go down your spine as he slowly began to unfold his arms, forcing you to sit up in his lap, supporting yourself by pushing down on his thighs.

“Well then”

The Master purred, pulling his arms free from their clasps. His fingers wriggled within the triangle shaped tip of the sleeve, his hands reaching up to slickly unclasp the thick red collar from around his neck. It fell to the floor, joining the locks, fork, and what was left of the plate. He looked down at you with a typical, Masterful, Cheshire cat grin.

“Would you look at that?”

Instinctively you gulped, looking up at the Master as he lifted your chin with his cloth covered fingers.

“Now I don't know about you, love, but I've noticed you’ve been getting a little bit too cheeky for my liking.”

At best, you sent him a weak smile. You knew what was about to happen.

“And I have hands now. Lucky, lucky you.”

“I'm guessing you’re going to punish me now, aren't you Master?”

The Master shushed you, tutting as he shook his head. He still clasped your chin in his hand.

“You said it yourself, dear. I can't punish the birthday girl. But I can encourage her to help me get the release I so lovingly provided for her. It's only fair, after all. If there happens to be a lesson or two learned in the process? Call that an added bonus.”

You chuckled weakly as the Master guided you to stand, supporting your still twitching hips as you sent him a wry smile.

“Y’know Master, there's a phrase we have on earth. You can't have your cake and eat it too.”

The Master tilted his head, his mouth making a small ‘o’ shape as he crooked an eyebrow. It soon melted away into a gentle smile, his fingers tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Oh, my love.” he grinned, a chuckle building in his throat as he pecked the top of your forehead.

“I just did.”

All of a sudden you felt yourself being lifted into the air, the impact of the Masters shoulder against your stomach knocking the wind out of your system. He barked out a proud laugh as he raised a hand to spank your already reddened ass, his teeth nipping at the soft flesh of your hip as you gave a surprised yelp.

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” he cried, laughing as he carried you towards the bedroom, where god knows what painful pleasure awaited you.

“I hope the birthday girl has room for seconds!”

[electricbarnes]

time is not on our side 

steve rogers x reader 

summary: ever since steve went against the sokovia accords, he’s been on the run. but he still takes time to see you, even if it’s only for a night. 

↳ songs i listened to for inspiration

wc: 2.8k | warnings: pretty fluffy i would say, but its got a little angst, implied smut 

note: it’s missing steve hrs

Nat: Don’t be gone too long.

Steve reads the text on the small screen of his flip phone, but he doesn’t bother to reply back. He shoves the phone back into his pocket as he turns into a dark alleyway. He glances behind him, making sure no one is watching him. The streets are fairly empty considering the late hour.

Steve carefully climbs his way up one of the fire escapes. The creaking of the old metal echoes through the empty alley. He goes up to the third floor and slides open an unlocked window. Steve ducks inside the dark apartment that’s only dimly lit by the street lights outside. His eyes do a quick scan of the room, looking for any possible dangers.  

He closes the window and flips the latch, making sure it’s locked this time. Just as he turns around, the hallway light turns on, revealing your silhouette. You clearly just woke up, judging by the flyaways of your hair and the old tee shirt you usually wear to bed. You squint your eyes into the darkness and they widen at the sight of the man standing in your living room.

“Steve?”

A gasp escapes your lips and you practically throw yourself on him, but Steve easily catches you. Your arms wrap around his neck while his automatically circles around your waist, pulling you in close. He ignores the pain from the bruise on his ribs, focusing on the feeling of having you in his arms again instead. The tension leaves his body as he melts into your embrace. His senses filled with the familiar sweet scent of your lotion.

Your soft clean skin contrasts the dirt and grime that covers him and his tattered suit. Though, you don’t seem to mind. He knows he should’ve cleaned up before he got here, but his time is limited and he wanted as much time with you as possible.

You pull back from him after a moment to get a good look at his face. Steve sees your smile morph into a frown and your eyebrows scrunch together. Your hand goes to his forehead, fingers carefully tracing the cut above his eyebrow. He forgot about the small injury.

Though he hates seeing you upset, Steve can’t help the small smile that appears on his face. He leans in, placing a kiss between your furrowed brows. He whispers an “I’m okay,” to ease your worries. It seems to work because your adoring smile returns.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” you say quietly, as if this were a dream that would end at any moment. It makes him wonder if you have dreams about him like he has of you. He knows all too well that feeling of disappointment when he wakes up alone, wishing the dream had lasted a little longer.

“I’m here,” he affirms, squeezing your hips as a confirmation that this was real. He seals it with a kiss that you immediately fall into. Your hand combs through his, now longer, hair as the kiss deepens. Before it could go any further, you pull away from him. Steve chases your lips for one more kiss, earning a giggle from you. He’s missed that adorable laugh of yours.

Your hand brushes over his beard. He had forgotten about that too. His look has changed a lot since the last time he’s seen you. Being a wanted criminal meant that he could skip the shaving in order to hide his face more. He’s far from the golden boy image that he was before.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” you say, as you take his hand into yours and lead him to the bathroom.

Steve sits patiently while you clean the cut on his face. You’re standing in between his legs and his hands rest on the curve of your hips, just wanting to keep you close. He watches your concentrated expression, thinking it’s cute. He loves how much you care for even the smallest of cuts. He’s pretty sure if he got a papercut, you’d treat it the same.

“It’ll be healed by tomorrow, you know?” he tells you.

“I know,” you say as you toss away the cotton you were using to clean his cut. You shrug, placing both of your hands on his shoulders, “I just wanna take care of you.”

Steve’s heart warms at your words. He looks up at you in disbelief. How did he get so lucky to have you? Even after months apart with radio silence, you still welcome him with open arms. You still care for him. He worries about the day when you’ll get tired of the distance. When it’ll become too much and you’ll give up on this barely there relationship. He knows it isn’t fair to you and you deserve far more than he can give. And yet... you’re still here.

Your hands move up to his cheeks, pulling him in for a quick kiss before leaving his side to turn on the shower.

“Alright, you take a shower and I’ll get you some clothes,” you tell him.

“Care to join me?” Steve asks with a smirk. He walks over to you, his hands wandering to the band of your sleep shorts.

You match his smile but shake your head, “Nuh uh, I don’t think you need any distractions.” You remove his hands from your waist and step back from him, “Now take off your suit.”

“Sweetheart, you can’t just say that and leave me by myself,” he groans, throwing his head back.

“I think you’ll be fine,” you say with a laugh and he can’t help but laugh too. Though he’s slightly disappointed in your rejection, he knows it's probably for the best.  

Once he’s out of his suit, you take his gear from him and leave to give him some privacy. Steve steps into the shower and involuntarily lets out a sigh of relief as the hot water instantly relaxes his muscles. He hasn’t had a good shower in far too long. The grueling weeks of underground missions and uncomfortable nights in the quinjet washes off of him. For a moment, Steve wonders if this is how it could always be. Feeling at peace, not having to be so guarded all the time. Just being here with you in your home makes him forget about the dark life he’s been leading for nearly a year now. Here, he feels like he can finally catch his breath.

Though he wants to stay longer under the hot water, he washes up quickly because he doesn’t want to waste anymore time without you. He gets dressed in the white tee shirt and grey sweats you left for him on the counter. Thankfully, you always keep spare clothes for him.

Just as Steve walks out of the bathroom, you walk into the room holding two mugs.

“I made some tea,” you say, handing him a blue mug with his iconic shield printed on the side. It made him chuckle. He secretly loved how you would keep these little reminders of him.

“And I cleaned your suit as best as I could. The star’s a little loose though,” you tell him.  

“Dont worry about it,” Steve takes the mug and pulls you in with his free hand, giving you a kiss on your forehead. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Soon enough, half filled cups of tea are forgotten on the nightstand. Clothing thrown around the room without care. Steve couldn’t help himself after craving your touch for so long. He’s sure you’ve felt the same, your breathy “please” told him so. Though he didn’t give in so quick, never missing a chance to tease you. Steve took his time rediscovering your taste. Remembering all the ways he drew out those little gasps. He’s dreamt about the way you wrap around him, but that could never compare to the real thing. He missed the way your body felt pressed against his. He missed the sounds of your moans in his ear and the sweet relief that comes after you both meet your ends.

For the rest of the night, the two of you laid in bed, legs twisted together and comfortably wrapped up in each other’s arms. Despite the late hour, you stayed up just talking.

Steve asked about what you have been up to since he’s been gone. You told him about how it’s been at work and the times you’d meet up with your friends over the weekend. You told him about the week you spent with your parents, wishing he could’ve been there. And you talked about the shows you’ve been watching, promising that you’d watch it with him one day.

Your lives were so different now. He wishes he could go back to the days when things weren’t so difficult. He wants that normalcy again, or at least what was normal for an Avenger. He thought he gave up on the idea of wanting a domestic life, forfeited to being a hero instead. But things have changed. Ever since he’s met you, you’ve unknowingly changed his mind.

Maybe it’s the time apart that’s making these moments with you that much more valuable, but it’s all he wants now. It always seems like a fleeting dream. This kind of domestic life isn’t in the cards for him. But the nights he gets to have with you give him hope that it could be possible. He knows he could never completely give up his heroic lifestyle. People need him and he is never one to turn a blind eye. He just hopes that one day he can find a compromise.

Maybe someday he can show up at your office and steal you away for lunch. Or he can join you on those nights out with your friends and get to know them. He would finally meet your family, saving you from them trying to set you up on a date. He’d finally introduce you to the team, the people he considers family. Bucky already knows about you. Steve couldn’t hide someone so important from his best friend. He's pretty sure that Sam and Natasha know where he runs off to every now and then. They even subtly remind him of how risky it is to sneak away. But after the fighting for so long, being with you is just what he needs, even if only for a night.

You were curious, of course, of what Steve has been up to in the time he was gone and where in the world he’s been. Steve avoided any details of the missions he’s gone on. He didn’t want to make you worry, though he’s sure you do anyways. He only tells you the good parts.

“Bucky has goats now,” he says with a smile, recalling the sight of Bucky helping the Wakandans on their farms.

“Really?” you raise your head from his chest, a look of surprise on your features.

“Yeah,” he says with a breathy laugh. “One of them even tried to eat Sam’s pants.”

“Oh my god,” both of your laughters break the quiet of the room.

There’s a lull in the conversation, but it’s a comfortable silence. Steve just enjoys the comforting weight of your body on top of his as he soothingly rubs his hand up and down your arm. For a second, he thinks you’ve fallen asleep but you turn your head to look up at him. He can see how sleepy you are, eyelids half closed. You stare for a moment with a small content smile. Your hand reaches for his face, delicate fingers stroking his beard.

“I like this,” you mutter.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmmm,” you affirm. “Didn’t think you could get any sexier but wow” your eyes widen, emphasizing the last part.

Steve throws his head back, laughing at your comment. You giggle along with him, tucking yourself back closer into his side.

“Guess I’ll keep it then,” he muses.

Silence takes over again. Your fingers draw random shapes across his chest, careful of the bruise on his side. Gradually, your movements get slower until your hand rests above his heart.  

“You should get some sleep sweetheart,” Steve says, kissing the top of your head. He knows he should probably sleep too, but he doesn’t want to. He just wants to enjoy having you in his arms while he can.

“Noooooo,” you let out an adorable whine.  

Steve turns to his side, both of you now face to face. Looking into your eyes, he knows this is exactly where he wants to be. His hand tucks a stray hair behind your ear, thumb caressing your face.

“Wanna stay up with you,” you say, the sleepiness evident in your voice.

Steve glances towards the window, noticing the subtle change of the sky. The dark night beginning to fade away to early morning blues.

His throat feels dry when he looks back at you and says “I have to go soon.”

The pout on your face returns and he wishes he could take it back. You let out a sigh.

“What if you just stayed, right here in this bed and we just never leave?” you asked with a teasing smile.

Steve smirks at the thought, “very tempting.”

“Or,” you begin to suggest, “what if I just went with you?”

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t given it a thought. He knows how much you want to see the world, but it shouldn’t be because you’re following a fugitive. He’s thought about asking the king for another favor, letting just one more person stay in Wakanda, so he can safely visit you more often. But you had your friends and family. He couldn’t be selfish and take you away from your life here. Above all else, he wanted to keep you safe. It was the reason for keeping your relationship a secret in the first place. He didn’t want you being associated with him in fear that you’d be used against him. He’s glad he kept you a secret, especially now that he became a part of the nation’s most wanted.

“I can’t ask that of you,” he says regretfully.

You look at him with sincerity, “I’d go anywhere with you, Steve.”

“I know,” he sighs, “but it’s too dangerous.”

You look at him sadly, before shying away from his stare. “I know.”

“Hey,” he coos softly. His finger bringing up your chin, getting you to look back at him. “Things will get better for us, I promise.”

You nod subtly, and he hopes you believe his words.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave,” you say, voice breaking toward the end. He can see the emotions swimming in your eyes.

“I wish I didn’t either.”

He leans in to meet your lips, hoping it’ll alleviate the pain in your heart. It damn near breaks him seeing you like this. He hates the torment he’s putting you through, but he was too selfish to actually let you go. He needed the hope you gave him. He needed you.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, wiping away a stray tear.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” he reassures you. “Being away from you is hard for me too. Trust me sweetheart, there’s no place I’d rather be than here with you.”

“I know,” you say with a sad smile.

“I love you,” he states firmly, needing you to know that he means it more than anything.

“I love you too,” you respond with a small smile.

He bumps his nose against yours, before giving you another chaste kiss.

The morning light starts to fill the bedroom, signaling his time was almost up. He looks back at you, “Go to sleep, doll.”

You don’t protest this time. Instead, you pull yourself closer, tucking yourself into his embrace. He lays back, swallowing down the sudden emotion he feels. His hand comfortingly strokes down your back, lulling you to sleep. Steve waits for your breathing to even out, making sure you were sleeping before reluctantly leaving your grip.

He quietly gets dressed in his now clean suit that was left hanging on your desk chair. He’s in no rush to leave, taking his time putting his gear back on. He looks over at you and sees you clutching your pillow in place of him. Part of him wonders what the consequences would be if he just stayed.

As he pulls on his suit, Steve notices the off-white star slightly bent off the center of his chest. He rips the whole thing off and walks over to your desk, finding a sticky note and a pen. He writes a reminder of his love for you and a promise that he’ll come back soon. He leaves the note and star on your nightstand for you to find when you wake up.

Just before he leaves, he goes to you and leans down to place a lingering kiss on your forehead, careful not to wake you up. 

He leaves your apartment the same way he came in. The air is much colder. He can hear sounds of the early risers and the birds chirping as he makes his way back down the fire escape. Steve glances one last time at your apartment window. He regretfully leaves the comfort and safety of home, back to his reality of life in the shadows.

thank you for reading! hope you liked it 🤍 as always, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated !!

[love-amihan]

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YOU LOOK SO COOL // PORCO GALLIARD

word count: 0.7k+

amihan’s note: i kinda like this and it sounded way better in my head, idk if i like the outcome but i was smiling the whole time i’m writing this, it’s such a cliche concept but it never gets old. also let’s pretend marcel’s older, happy reading!

masterlist: 300 milestone

porco + best friend's older brother + "that's my shirt"

jock!porco x fem!reader

“y/n! you’re soaking wet,” marcel, your best friend, exclaims while you’re walking to his direction. you nod at him, laughing a little, “t’was fun though,” your tone cheerful, you open your arms threatening to give him a hug.

he whines but lets you hug him, his face scrunching up as he feels his shirt get soak a little. the lead singer of the band got a little carried away due to the heat of the moment.

the crowd got them going, thus opening a bottle and spraying the crowd with some water. they even move to you to pour a little water on your drums, the water giving some edge with your play.

you actually enjoy and had a blast. you love how the lead singer lives in the moment, it effectively lifts the band’s spirits up.

but as much as you had fun, you forgot that you don’t have any spare clothes, good thing marcel has one.

however, what you didn’t know was it’s his brother. without a second thought, you thank him and change in the nearest comfort room, not wanting to catch a cold.

while changing, you notice how it smells different from how marcel usually smells. you’re sure this perfume is not his, nevertheless, you still change into them pushing the thoughts aside.

you're walking around the campus alone when your crush aka your best friend's older brother stops you, "hey pretty girl..” porco stares at the shirt you’re wearing.

“that's my shirt," he smirks, seeing you're easily flustered by his words. of course it would be his shirt, no wonder the smell was awfully familiar.

"i'm s-sorry it's just- my-," you get tongue-tied while looking into his eyes, his smile a little cocky noticing the upper-hand he has in the situation.

"you can do it, doll. you were?" he leans in a bit forward, invading your personal space. oh, he's having fun for sure that's until he's smack right at the back of his head.

you stumble back, unintentionally catching him in your arms. he instinctively wraps his arms around you, in order not to lose balance. "stop that stupid face," your best friend pries away his brother's arms from you.

you stop yourself from glaring daggers at your best friend from ruining your little moment. hey! it was your only chance to be close to him without any excuse okay.

porco holds up his hand in defeat, a silly smile plastered on his lips "i didn't do anything, my dear brother."

marcel squints his eyes at him while porco just stares back at him with faux innocence, “i knew i shouldn't have lent you this,” he sighs while tugging on your shirt.

before you can reply, the blond is quick to pipe in. “i don’t mind though,” he says while shamelessly looking at you up and down.

marcel heaves a sigh and pushes porco’s face away from you. “c’mon brother, she obviously doesn't mind,” porco huffs and peeks over his brother’s shoulder to flash you yet another charming smile.

marcel knows the little crush you have on him but he also know his brother. how he’s not into commitment, having new girls left and right. “porco, no.” he mutters to him, porco stops and looks at him, “but why?”

“she’s my best friend, i will beat you up if you break her heart which i know you will sooner or later.”

porco scoffs at his claims, “you think i’ll do that?” he mumbles back, “pretty much.” marcel and porco look into each other’s eyes, glaring at one another.

meanwhile you stand beside them while they are having a not-so-silent sibling conflict, you clear your throat, gaining both their attention.

“everything all right?” your eyes widenening a little as they give you a soft smile in sync.

“uh huh, porco just told me that he’s gonna have his practice and is about to leave, right?” his last words coming out through his gritted teeth, pinching porco’s side after not receiving a reply.

“right,” he pushes back his hair and moves closer to you. “you look so cool back there,” he leans in and steals a quick peck on your cheek.

he smirks seeing the way you stiffen, "see you later, pretty girl” he whispers to your ear and flees the scene before marcel can beat his ass.

copyright © 2021 by love-amihan all rights reserved. do not repost in other platforms. reblogs are welcome and highly appreciated! <33

taglist: @cosmiclvsh @lumpiang-toge @chibishae34 @kenmakeii @pennylanewrites @crybabyjabby

[movingandnolongeractivehere]

[hcs] some general headcannons ♡

— dating the karasuno boys >> third years and second years (daichi, suga, asahi, noya, tanaka)

daichi sawamura —

morning walks to and from school because he’s just a good gentleman it makes you cry

never lets you eat lunch all alone. like he’s always by your side or if he’s busy he’ll have suga and asahi or the first years accompany you because he doesn’t want you desserted in a table

its also to make sure that you are eating right!!! mans wants to make sure you’re good and healthy (plus the first years always get giddy when he asks them to come with you since they asks you the most ridiculous questions in hopes to expose a secret about their captain)

daichi just gives them a glare and they shut up

gets you little trinkets that remind him of you when he’s on his away games

“I just think it’s cute and it makes me think of you”

sir-we need to stop you from making us fall in love even more

kinda not the softest but definitely has a hard time saying no to you specially when you pull the puppy eyes

he starts an inner dialogue when you do those to convince him something like buying some shit you know is just a waste of money and he’s all like “oh no not the puppy eyes”

random but serious talks about your future— getting a house, marriage, even kids

and its literally so fucking pleasant to see him looking so intent about planning your future together,,, he’s so sure it almost hurts

love him please

sugawara koushi —

never misses any special occasion that could be an excuse to take you on a date!!!

its just a koushi thing

random duets and soft humming when you two are together because he really has an amazing voice (and you can’t convince me otherwise, go cry about it)

gives the warmest hugs that can cure you of any sadness like at some point you’d believe their actually magic

very teasing but cares very much about you

always has something sickeningly cute to call you and it makes your heart go “kandiska omg” but at the same time you’re also “disgusting please stop”

trolling daichi together because why the hell not (plus daichi has the most funniest “i am done with this” reaction whenever you and suga pull some shit on him)

hinata randomly got the two of you matching mugs for one of your aniversaries

stares at you with the most dorky smile when he thinks you’re not looking but oops you see it and you really just go “oh good he really loves me that much yes”

and yes suga loves you a lot please be the nicest to him because he is soft boy

azumane asahi —

he!!! is!!! the!!! most!!! sweetest!!! boy!!! ever!!! ohmygod!!!

gets shy and flustered when you compliment him but he absolutely loves it when you praise him so do it more

gifting each other soft clothings like cotton sweaters and warm scarves because a soft boy like him deserves soft things too

will never let you walk home alone specially when it gets late because he can’t even stand the idea of someting relatively bad happening to you

giving him all sorts of braids and keeping an extra hair tie, rubber band or head band with you because he sometimes breaks his and you being a good girlfriend is always there to the rescue

WILL AND I TELL YOU, HE WILL always ask for consent either from you, ya mom or ya dad because he doesn’t want them to think bad of him

and they would never??? bruh your parents probably even acknowledges him as their in law already lets be real

you literally not getting why people are scared of him or like think he’s this some sort of thug because??? he is just the softest?? and the cutest??? and everything nice and sweet???

nishinoya yuu —

has a list of disgustingly cute nicknames to call you and he never runs out of them, it just keeps going (babe, baby, princess, honey, lil’ cutie, cupcake, whatever sweet ass nickname exist you name it, he says it)

crackhead pranks with tanaka and cue daichi screaming at the three of you for almost setting something on fire

absolutely sends you selfies from every gym or court he’s played on, on his away games, tokyo, nationals, training camp, wherever he goes he sends you a selfie of him if he can’t convince coach ukai or daichi to bring you along

will fight, and I am absolutely serious, anyone who even makes you frown

ya’ll know he’s gonna pretend to be all cool around you but in reality he’s just a big ass baby who’s loud but you love him anyways

makes it a living goal to remind you how perfect you are because in his eyes you are literally everything

anyone who says the opposite is going to get reckt because he may be small but he’s feral and tanaka backs him up (and thats on bro code)

gets all googly eyed when you smile so warmly at him because ahhh his heart can not survive this

kisses your nose randomly because it makes you scrunch them and you look so adorable focusing on the tip of your nose

10000/10, highly recommend dating him

tanaka ryuunoske —

Always manages to convince you to watch practice or to watch his matches

goes crazy when you borrow or just straight up steal his clothes like please anything but seeing you in his own clothing it makes him incredibly soft (but he makes you wear his clothes more anyways)

lol noya and tsukki called him a simp,,, but he didn’t even deny it??? like fuck whatever you say so what I’ll simp for my baby

your number one hype yes sir

literally thinks everything you do is immaculate and praises all the little things you make. he wants you to feel appreciated no matter what it is because you do the same to him

hanging out with saeko-nee san because she’s all for you and she loves teasing the shit out of tanaka

lol saeko covers up for the two of you whenever you sneak out so tanaka can’t say anything

you being the more mature one in the relationship but thats not saying anything since the both of you are just crackheads

daichi face palming when you did something dumb when he specifically told the both of you not to do so and you both just sit there like “well whats done is done” while daichi nags your ears off for breaking the last broom available

love him please oh my god i would die for tanaka

[httpnxtt]

Wallpaper - Reid x Reader

A/N: Hello Lovelies! I attempted some pure fluff this time to show my love to my bby, @spencer-reid-in-a-pool​ ! I wanted to shower her with love and this was the only way I could think how, so I hope you enjoy! Shoutout to @imagining-in-the-margins​ for the adorable prompt! You’re amazing and ily! 

Also shout out to my amazing beta buddies, @sunlight-moonrise​ , @clean-bands-dirty-stories​ , and @definitelynotkatesblog​ !

Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: FLUFFY FLUFF

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 4.2k

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the world of darkness that surrounds our lives, it’s important to find the light in the world. Luckily for me, our paperwork days meant being sat across from my best friend, Spencer Reid. The man whose smile lit the entire room, who could drop everything in an instant for someone he loves; who makes my days brighter at the simplest, “Hi.” The curly-haired genius spends his days surrounded by the worst humans in existence, using his brain to help the world before helping himself. With his IQ of 187, his mind works a million miles a minute, but sometimes he still needs help. That’s where my job comes in. 

I joined the BAU a year ago, and was instantly drawn to the resident genius. He was timid when I first met him, as if scared the world would break him with everything it decided to throw at the sweet man. Slowly, I captured the heart of our resident genius, who was now my best friend. Over the course of the years, he became my favorite person. On cases, I would make sure he took time to drink water and rest when possible, bringing him snacks when his brain was wrapped in his geological profile. I made it my mission to teach the genius to love himself as much as he loves others. 

Paperwork days were when I really got to see his bright smile and soft laughter. It became a running joke between us. Whenever Spencer would get up to grab us coffee from the kitchen, I would steal his phone to change the wallpaper to something silly. Every time he would check his phone for updates, he would see a new silly picture and grace me with a shining smile and chuckle. Even for these split moments in time, I knew I had distracted him from the morbid things littering our desks. His smile lit up the bullpen, leaving butterflies fluttering around in my stomach, my own smile gracing my lips. He would always shake his head before changing it back, already knowing he would find a new wallpaper later that day. Luckily for me, today was a long, dragging paperday which means I had plenty of time to meet my Spencer-Smile quota for the day. 

First thing this morning, I got my hands on his cell. Pre-coffee brain, the only thing I could think of was the most ridiculous picture of our own Derek Morgan. The image was one Penelope graced me with, a photo he attached when shamelessly flirting with her during our downtime. As quickly as I could, I set the lockscreen and gently placed the device back on his desk, almost in the right spot although I’m sure Spencer would notice it had been moved. I sit back in my chair, slowly starting to spin as I see Spencer make his way back to our desks, two mugs in hand as his glasses begin to slide down the bridge of his nose. I shoot up to wrap my hands around the steaming mug, the warmth like a warm hug. I pull the mug up to my face, smelling the delicious scent of coffee created perfectly to my specifications. Sometimes boy genius’ memory has its perks. Settling back at my desk, I sort through the mound of files for the day in anticipation. 

Looking up from my own cases, I look across to Spencer who has his face buried in a file, his finger trailing down the pages taking my mind into places it shouldn’t go. After an hour he still hasn’t seen his wallpaper, plastering a frown on my face. I pull out my own device, immediately texting a gif of Stitch saying hi to “Pretty Boy”, hearing his phone ding almost immediately. Looking across to Spencer, he almost spits out his coffee seeing the ever flirtatious Derek Morgan gracing his screen. The reaction sent me into a whirlwind of laughter, my head thrown back, almost cackling at the poor man. 

As I calm down, wiping the tears from under my eyes, I see Spencer looking at me with his signature smile, making my heart flutter. 

“That was a good one, Y/N. You really got me this time.” He chuckles, looking at this screen again before looking back at me. “Might have been your best one yet,” he says as he works to change it back. The poor technophobe had to learn because of me how to change his wallpaper since he realized I wouldn’t stop anytime soon. He’s still a tad slow but watching him try to work through it makes my heart happy as I return to my own files. 

As I try to work through my own files, an IM from the tech queen herself pings my computer. 

P.Garcia: “Changed Boy Wonder’s wallpaper again? When are you going to tell him?! Your puppy eyes give you away, darling. You can’t lie to me.”

Y/N: “Darling Penelope, I would never lie to you. Alas, you continue shipping something that will never sail..” I reply to her, hoping she gets the gist.

Although Spencer lives in my thoughts rent free, that’s where he’ll stay. As much as I wanted him in my arms instead, it simply wasn’t going to happen. I close my messages before trying to actually get some work done. I’d rather not stay late yet again due to my tendency to be a bit scatterbrained. 

***

Coffee break number two rolls around and I already have the perfect picture planned. Reid scurries into the kitchen desperate for more coffee and I rush to his desk. Pulling out his phone, I send an image to it before saving it. It is one of my all time favorites. A movie night Spencer and I shared. I convinced him to let me pamper him under the reasoning of some well deserved self-care. Surprisingly, the man went along with my antics, although fighting me on this gem. The image is a sneaky one that Reid doesn’t even know exists. During our self-care night, I tried to take pictures of him looking as cute as ever, but he kept blocking me. Luckily, Spencer fell asleep before his mask came off leaving the perfect opportunity to snap the evidence. There is Spencer in all his glory, curled up on my couch in the light blue robe I saved for him that was covered in little clouds, a purple face-mask clinging to his cheeks, trying to avoid his eyebrows.To top it all off, he wore a bright pink headband to push his hair back decorated with bunny ears. The picture shows the soft side of our boy, a side I wished he would show more. 

Throwing his phone back on his pile of files, I sit back at my desk, nonchalantly sipping my now cold coffee. Seeing Reid shuffle back to his desk, I wait for him to pick up his phone with my mug resting against my mouth. Spencer readjusts his frames as he settles in his chair, looking me in the eyes before looking at his phone. Instead of his normal chuckle, a pout graces his plush lips. Although his lips are normally a favorite of mine to stare at, the pout twists my gut. 

“I thought you didn’t get any pictures of me that night,” he mumbles, giving me puppy eyes that could give mine a run for their money. 

Despite my pride in the picture, his tone makes me feel just a little guilty. “I’m sorry, Spence, I thought you were so cute when you were napping. I didn’t want to make you upset.” I pout, the butterflies disintegrating as the moments pass. Rummaging through my drawer, I find my sack of trail mix and toss it to the dark-eyed man. “Here, take my trail mix, I know it’s your favorite,” I offer, a small smile painted on my face. Spencer’s eyes land on me, lips turning up once more into the smile that never fails to take my breath away. 

“I appreciate it, but I can’t take it. I know it’s basically the only thing you eat on your lunch break.” His call out causes heat to rise into my face. 

I stay insistent though. “I want you to have it. I don’t like making you sad.” I shoot back, giving him my infamous puppy eyes. Even Aaron Hotchner falls for them, there is no way the doctor could resist. 

“Okay,” he starts, automatically having me rush across to his desk to give him the snack. “On one condition,” He finishes, making my face fall once more. Spencer never lets people just give him a present, he always does more for others. “Since you’re giving me your snack, you come with me to get a proper lunch since you need food and I could use the hour away from these files.” He smiles at me, already munching on the trail mix so I have no choice but to agree. 

“Deal. BUT, I want pancakes if we’re going,” I reason with him, plopping back in my chair. 

“IHOP it is.” He chuckles, the sound resonating in my brain as we both hurry through our respective files. 

***

At coffee break number three, Reid stands from his desk, scrunching his nose to fix his glasses as he reaches across to snatch my mug from my desk. Hiding my face in the file until he walks away, I turn to see him shaking his head, knowing I’m about to change his wallpaper yet again. 

Once I see him turn the corner, I stretch over to grab his phone he conveniently left square in the middle of his desk, giving the man yet another excuse to talk to her. Flipping through the camera roll, I hear a chuckle from the desk a few feet away. Looking over, I find the one and only, Derek Morgan shaking his head at me. 

“What’s so funny, Thunder? Sad the attention isn’t on you anymore?” I tease him while trying to find the perfect picture. 

“I just find the pining that goes on between two supposedly brilliant people entertaining.” He chuckles as my jaw drops, turning to him. “Come on, Princess. You don’t think we don’t all know you and Pretty Boy fancy each other, do you? It’s obvious to everyone except the boy himself.”

I shake my head. “He’d never see me that way, Morgan. This is just for shits and giggles.” I breathe out, settling on an image of our feet in front of the TV screen, mismatched socks adorning our feet while “Beauty and the Beast” plays in the background. He sports a neon pink sock along with a navy blue sock covered in planets, while my feet claimed one sock covered in different moon phases, the other covered in little alien creatures. Placing his phone on his desk, I settle back at my own, shooting Morgan a closing, “You’re just seeing things, Morgan.” before burying myself back in the file at hand. 

Moments later, my mug is sat directly in front of me before Reid sits at his own desk. Automatically picking up his phone to check, my tummy flutters at the smile he releases while staring at the screen for a moment before looking at me. Making eye contact, I notice a slight pink tint to his cheeks, before he looks back at the image.

“This might be my favorite one yet,” he murmurs, adjusting his glasses without looking away from the screen. I feel my cheeks heat up, getting warmer by the second, but I cannot tear my eyes from the man who holds my heart without even knowing it. 

***

“Hey Y/N. Ready for lunch?” Spencer asks, tearing my eyes from the IMs Garcia floods me with daily. 

“Ready when you are!” I reply, jumping at the opportunity to get away from the files scattered on my desk. You’d think serial killers would take a day off sometimes. Shuffling to my feet, I grab my keys from my desk and grab Spencer’s hand, dragging him to the elevator with me.

“Seems like it’s more ready when Y/N is.” He chuckles, straightening his glasses once he comes to a stop in front of the silver doors. As we step in, Garcia frantically waves at us, before sprinting into the bullpen as the doors close.

“Well, you’re in luck, Pretty Boy. You get me as your personal chauffeur to lunch.” I beam at him as he goes bug-eyed.

“Lucky? In your death trap, Y/N?” He chuckles, putting a flabbergasted look on my face.

“Hey!” I yell at him, playfully elbowing him in the ribs. “My car has lasted 15 long years I’ll have you know, and she runs as smooth as ever,” I shoot back, immediately leaving him behind when the doors open. “Maybe I’ll just go get pancakes without you then.” It’s playful when I lock all the car doors except for mine, and he knows it.

That doesn’t stop him from playing along. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry Y/N! Will you ever forgive my poor soul?” he jokes, holding both his hands over his heart as he begs for forgiveness. Unlocking the doors, I giggle at his antics before heading to the restaurant. 

***

“Y’all ready to order, or do you need a few more minutes?” The server returns to the table with our coffees, along with an apple juice for my inner child. 

“Yes ma’am. Can I get the plain pancakes with eggs, as well as a side of bacon and sausage?” Spencer asks while gathering both our menus for her. “Of course, sugar. What about you darlin’?” she turns to me as Spencer dumps almost the entire sugar container into his mug. 

“I’ll just have the chocolate chip pancake, please!” I smile at her as I steal what’s left of the sugar from the man across from me. 

“No problem, that’ll be right out for y’all.” She smiles at us before heading off to the kitchen. 

“Did you know chocolate chips were invented by Ruth Wakefield because she decided to chop up a chocolate bar and add it to her cookie batter?” Spencer looks to me as he starts with factoids. “And white chocolate isn’t even truly chocolate! White chocolate is made with a blend of sugar, cocoa butter, milk products, vanilla, and a fatty substance called lecithin. Not that it’s a surprise, considering it doesn’t even taste like chocolate. Probably because it doesn't contain chocolate solids.” he rambles as I stare at him with stars in my eyes. “However, dark chocolate is loaded with organic compounds that are biologically active and function as antioxidants. These include polyphenols, flavanols and catechins, among others. Dark chocolate also has a list of different benefits proven from consumption.” He finishes, taking a sip of his coffee as I continue staring at the man.

“What ever would I do without you, Boy Wonder?” I say, seeing Spencer’s face heat up at my remark as he hides behind his mug. 

“M-me?” He asks, as if he couldn’t believe it. He shakes his head in disbelief before I could respond, showering me with many more factoids while waiting for our food rather than accept my compliment.

“Alright, here’s your food darlin’. Let me know if there’s anything else I could do for y’all.” The server tells us, shooting us a smile before moving onto another table. Spencer takes his time cutting up his food, dousing his plate in more syrup than pancake. Meanwhile, I dig into my pancakes as if it’s the last thing I will ever eat. 

Halfway through my own pancakes, I look up to see Spencer looking directly at me with a look I couldn’t quite distinguish. 

“Why are you staring at me?” I ask him, almost seeming to pull him from a trance before responding. 

“Oh. Uh, you have chocolate on your face.” He tells me, seeing my face flush at the information. I grab my napkin and quickly wipe my lips making sure not to miss a spot. Little did I know, there wasn’t a single speck on my face. 

“Is it gone?” I ask him, hoping not to embarrass myself further. 

“Oh, yeah it’s gone.” he smiles, returning his focus onto his own plate. 

Going back to eating, I keep sneaking pieces of the bacon off Spencer’s plate, causing him to smile each time. 

“Hey Spence. I have a question for you.” I tell him, shoving a piece of bacon in my mouth. 

“And what would that be, Y/N?” He asks me, sipping his coffee. 

“Why is it every time we come here you order sausage and bacon, if you never touch the bacon?” I ask him, looking at him with a puzzled expression. 

“Would you like my honest answer?” He pushes back, as if I would want anything else from him. I nod with a mouth full of pancakes, earning a smile while he responds. “Because I know you’ll always steal the bacon from my plate but will never actually order it yourself.” He smiles at me, returning to his own food leaving me speechless and even more red.

Finishing up our plates, Spencer takes initiative to organize all of the empty dishes so our server has less work. Giggling at his antics, I pull out my phone to check the time, seeing we still have plenty of time before our break is over. 

“Are we getting milkshakes?” he asks me, sipping the last of his coffee before adding the mug to his carefully organized dish-pile. 

“Of course we’re getting milkshakes, what kind of question is that, Spencer?” I look at him, almost appalled he would assume we weren’t. “We each have a sweet tooth I’ve ever seen matched by anyone else, why would you ever assume I would say no to a milkshake?”

“I wasn’t sure if we had the time, I didn’t want to make us late.” He explains, shaking his head yet again at my child-like antics. 

When the server returns, we both order the largest mint-chip shakes they had before returning to our usual banter in waiting. Not long after, the server returned with a single shake. 

“I’m so sorry sugar, apparently we only had enough ingredients for one mint-chip. Can I get y’all something else?” The server asks us, feeling bad she couldn’t fulfill our order. 

“You take the mint-chip, Spence. I’ll order something else.” I push the shake toward him as he blocks it from getting to him. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m not worried about it.” He replies, fighting me over a milkshake. 

“Spence-” I begin to argue before he abruptly cuts me off. 

“Would you like to share the shake with me, Y/N?” he asks me, looking me directly in the eye. I froze for a moment, taken aback at the offer from the germaphobe in front of me.

“If that’s okay with you, Spence. Then, sure!” I respond, checking if it was okay with him. 

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t okay, Y/N.” He shoots back, chuckling at me before asking the server for two straws. The man in front of me steals more and more of my heart with every passing moment.

***

Going up the elevator to the BAU was a constant battle between us. Spencer secretly gave the server his card so I wouldn’t even have a chance to fight him on paying. 

“You gave me your trail mix, Y/N! That’s the whole reason I asked you to get lunch in the first place! Why would I let you pay when I extended the invitation?” He shoots at me as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Shooting him a look of discontent, we both sit back at our desks, feeling 2 pairs of eyes staring at us from a few desks over. 

“Don’t look now, but I think Tweedledee and Tweedledum are staring at us.” I lean over to whisper. Reid tries his best to look up at them, nonchalant as possible. Despite the boy being a genius, he is anything but sly, looking just in time to see Derek and Penelope snap their heads to whatever was on his desk. Giving them a smile, Reid picks up his own file to return to his own tasks for the day. However, the task only lasted so long before the genius needed yet another cup of coffee for the day. Heading off to the kitchen, I quickly grab the phone he left on his desk on his break, trying to plan the perfect image. 

Before I could get far, I was abruptly stopped in my tracks. Staring at the homescreen on his phone, I couldn’t understand how I hadn’t noticed this before. Had this been in front of my face the entire time? Staring at the screen, I see myself and Spencer from our weekly movie nights. I had all of our silly photos, yet I had never seen this one. I see myself, puffed out cheeks with my eyes crossed, pulling at my ears to make myself look like a monkey, but my eyes can only look at Spencer. He hadn’t made his silly face. Instead, the man before me is staring directly at me, the sweetest smile across his lips. His little nose scrunch in full effect, his beautiful hazel eyes creased in the corner from his smile. That smile that could melt my heart in two seconds flat. Staring at the screen for what felt like centuries, I refocus on my surroundings when I hear his soft voice behind me. 

“Wow, Y/N. Getting a little slow with the changes now, are we?” He laughs, before noticing the look on my face. Stopping dead in his tracks, he looks at me confused more than ever. Not being able to form words, I raise my hand to show him the wallpaper, the perfect image of us. His eyes go wide, his mug almost slipping through his fingers.

“Y/N, I-” He starts. 

“Spence… Where did this picture come from?” I ask him, looking back at the screen before me. “I’ve never seen this one before,” I whisper, before Spencer puts his hands over mine, the mug now living on his desk. 

“I, uh. I took this one before making a face, I just couldn’t resist.” He whispers, pulling my chin up gently between his two fingers, looking me dead in the eye. “Y/N…” He starts, glancing down before gazing back at me with the same look I saw at the restaurant. “I couldn’t resist because I wanted to keep a physical copy of one of the happiest moments of my life. And I care about you... More than care about you! You make my days so much brighter when you’re around. You’re the only person to ever know me, the real me. And I..” he trails off, working his confidence up to finish his thought. “I love you, Y/N. And that picture was saved, locked away on my phone so I could be reminded how much you mean to me, and how much you care on some of my darkest days. I love you, Y/N. It’s the only thing I have locked away because it’s the moment I knew I was in love with you.” He finishes, breathing out as he waits for me to react. Stunned into silence, I stand there looking at the man, seeing his face turn to panic. “It’s okay if you do-” He starts, stunned when he is cut off by his plush lips being covered by my own. He slides his hand onto my cheek, holding my face as he returns the affection. 

Pulling away, I look him dead in the eye, I pull out of his embrace to my own desk, grabbing my phone. Returning to his side, I unlock my phone to show him my own hidden homescreen, a grin spreading on my cheeks from the flood of emotion. From our self-care night, it is quite possibly my favorite image of the man. He was in his robe, bunny headband and mask, but he was trying to block the images from being taken. His hand was raised in an attempt, but I could hear the laughter radiate from the image, the smile making my heart swoon at every glance. Looking between me and the image, Spencer’s jaw drops at my own revelation, before pulling me into a bone-crushing hug. Burying my face in his neck, I murmur my own “I love you.” Before a whistle from the peanut gallery beside us breaks it up. 

Shooting a look to Penelope, I see she has the biggest smile plastered on her own face, her rosy cheeks probably stinging from the sheer joy painted on. Morgan sitting beside her lounges back in his own chair, shooting a wink our way. 

Returning to our respective seats, I can’t help but steal glances at the man beside me. When he catches me, I can’t help but giggle.

“Hey Spence. How long was I oblivious to your homescreen?” I ask him, curious as to how much of a dumbass I truly was. Seeing his cheeks flush pink, he turns to me with guilt in his eyes, 

“Y/N.. as much as I would love to take the credit, I don’t know where the wallpaper came from. I can barely change it back after you mess with it.” He confesses, a shy smile on his face. Laughing at his technophobe ways, it finally registers that he didn’t actually set the wallpaper. 

“Wait, then who changed it?” I ask him, before hearing stilettos and boots scurrying down the hall, laughter trailing behind them. Looking back at my boy, those eyes stole all my words away, and that smile… the smile I had seen so many times before but never knew the intention, the smile I fell in love with, I knew he would forever be my always.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @spencer-reid-in-a-pool​  @redbullchick​  @samanddeanstolethetardis221b​   @reidetic​ @gretaamyk​ @sunlight-moonrise​ @prettyricky187​ @rileysann​ @itslatinamagia​ @timey-wimey-lovi​  @pinkdiamond1016​

[caramelcal]

Songwriting and Fake Dating {4}

Word Counter: 1.4k 

a/n: hi! sorry ths is so late but i hope you enjoy :)

disclaimer: I do not condone the use of my work/writing without my permission. The only place this has been posted is on my (rosemoonmist) tumblr account. This has not been posted on any other platform either. If you see any plagiarism of my work please let me know! <3 People work hard on their fics, so don’t steal them ty.

Taglist: @honeyheartzz @diosa75 @katrin-okay @merceret @hoechx @ifilwtmfc @gia-kerks @thesweetestsinner @teti-menchon0604 @rachelle3musicals @morbidreader​

Masterlist

It’s much later in the night, the café empty apart from you, humming softly a tune from a song you can’t remember the name of. You’re dancing a little as you give the tables one last wipe down before making your way behind the counter again. It was your turn to lock up for the night, the other waitresses already away home but you actually liked it when it was like this.

You didn’t even have the lights on as you took of your small apron-like thing and hung it up. Reaching for the keys, you stop when you hear the bell ringing, signaling that someone had entered the shop. Could they not read the closed sign?

“Sorry, we’re closed right now-” You say, whirling around and meeting hazel eyes, voice cutting off when you saw who was standing there. Clearing your throat, you shift awkwardly between two feet, “Luke.”

“Hey y/n,” Luke says softly, his hair is messy under his navy colored beanie, but you know you can’t talk, yours probably looks a lot worse. He takes a step towards you before speaking again, his voice still soft, “We need to talk.”

“What- What do we need to talk about,” Your eyes aren’t on him anymore, but instead on the counter in front of you. You don’t even notice that Luke had walked forward until he’s directly on the other side of the counter from you, his hand reaching out to cup under your face, forcing you to look up at him.

You can’t even think of what to say when you stare up into his eyes, the tension in the room only multiplying. When Luke next speaks, his words are quiet, “We need to talk about what we’re going to do when we go back to school tomorrow.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Everyone still thinks we’re dating,” Luke starts to explain, stopping briefly as his tongue wipes over his bottom lip, “We haven’t been together in school for two weeks, y/n.”

“So what? It’s not like either of us actually want to be fake dating anyway,” You break away from his touch, moving away so that he couldn’t reach you whilst you look away, sighing lightly.

The memories of what your little deal have caused flashes over your head, and you can’t help the small frown that comes to your face. Sure, Luke was a nice guy, but everything that happened, the deal just wasn’t worth it. Not worth losing your best friend over.

His eyes are still trained on you, lingering on you for a few moments whilst a small frown appears on his face. His voice is quiet when he speaks, “There are benefits for the both of us.”

“Like what? Losing my best friend?” Luke looks at you with a frown. He feels guilty about it, but the more you look towards him, the more you realize you shouldn't have snapped, you sigh again, “I’m sorry.”

“No it’s alright, you have every reason to be mad. Listen, I have a new idea if we start to fake date again,” Luke says softly, and when your eyes glance up at him with confusion riddle on your face, he continues, “Grab some paper and a pen.”

Still confused, you oblige hesitantly, grabbing the small notebook from the pocket of your already hung up apron, rounding the counter to stand beside Luke, “What for?”

“This time, we’re going to do it right,” Luke says, taking the notebook from you and scribbling something down, showing you it with a grin on his face.

Scrunching your eyes up, you go to read what he has scribbled down, before awkwardly going, “Um...”

“Yeah it’s maybe better if you write,” Luke says sheepishly, pushing the notepad along the counter towards you, the pen sitting on top, “We’re doing rules for this. The fake dating I mean.”

“Rules? Really?”

Luke rolls his eyes, “Okay think of it more like bargains, like things we’ll do for each other as part of the deal.”

“Okay,” You start, nodding your head slightly, trying to come up with an example to know you guys are thinking about the same thing, “So like keeping the lacrosse team off my back?”

“Yeah like that. And you’ll write songs for us, but we’ll have a schedule, and we can’t write outside of that,” Luke says whilst you begin to write things on the small pad of paper, “We could do Tuesday nights and Friday nights.”

“I can’t do Tuesdays,” You trail off, looking back down at the counter with a small frown. Tuesdays were Dirty Candy practice nights, but now that you’re no longer a part of Dirty Candy, your Tuesdays were free. Yet, you were just used to not being free on Tuesdays, especially considering you had been in Dirty Candy since it was first created.

You cleared your throat before continuing, trying to put a smile on your face, “Uh, sorry. I’m free Tuesdays but we’ll have to do it late on Fridays because I’m at work until 7.”

“I’ll pick you up, we can get something to eat, and then we can go back to mine and write songs on Fridays,” Luke suggests, his hands lightly drumming against the counter before he speaks again, this time softer, “Also, I’ll get you Carrie back, as my part of the deal.”

“And how are you going to do that Luke? Carrie has made her feelings pretty clear,” You say skeptically. Especially after today, you were pretty sure that Carrie wanted absolutely nothing to do with you. She had told Kayla and the rest of the Dirty Candy girls about you calling her.

“You should know better than anyone that Carrie isn’t fully straight forward about her feelings to everyone, y/n. Just trust me on this.”

You’re hesitant, but Luke gives you a glance that tells you that you should trust him, so you give in with a sigh, “Fine. But if this fake dating thing is back on, we’re not kissing.”

“Seriously y/n?” Luke gives you a dumbfounded look, “Who’s going to believe I’m your boyfriend if I’m not allowed to do stuff like kissing you?”

“No, everything else is fine, but I want my first to be special.”

“Your first?” Your cheeks go red as you look down, but Luke’s eyes stay trained on you with his mouth almost hanging at his feet, “You’ve seriously never been kissed before? I’ve seen tons of guys with you, I-”

“Yeah, Carrie’s boyfriends, Kayla’s, the other dirty candy members...None of them have ever been mine. ‘Guess guys don’t like me like that, apart from the lacrosse team but it’s not exactly like they like me, they just want sex,” You shrug, boosting yourself up to sit on the counter, one leg crossed over the other as you look at Luke with a small smile.

Luke is dumbfounded. Guys obviously like you, you’re amazing. You’re nice and helpful, and gorgeous, why would guys not like you like that? For you to even think that is insane. Luke doesn’t know what to say, he shakes himself out of his thoughts.

“Fine. No kissing but you need to come to my gigs with me,” Luke bargains, tilting his head slightly to look at you, all you do is nod before you start writing stuff down, notebook leaning on your thigh.

You’re enveloped in a comfortable silence as you hit the pen off of the notebook lightly, looking down at Luke. He has his back against the counter, looking out on the quiet streets that the night has brought.

Your head goes over your ‘contract’ almost, and a question comes to your mind, why is Luke even doing this? Sure, there were a few benefits for him but no kissing, him having to get Carrie back for you, having to keep the lacrosse team off your back, getting you back in Dirty Candy...

“Hey, Luke?” You question, breaking the silence between the two of you as he hums in reply to show you that he’s listening, “Why are you so adamant about this whole fake dating thing anyway? I mean tons of girls would do this with you and it would be for real...”

Your eyes are still trained on Luke as he turns around to face you, hazel eyes gazing at you as he gives you a small smile, “Well...You write good songs, and that’s good for the band.”

It’s all for the band...

[edens-breathless-melodies-moved]

Oikawa + Blushing (pls and ty ❤️)

words: 1.1k

characters: oikawa tooru

warnings: nada

a/n: i’m trying to keep these under 1k but leave it to oikawa to have me go overboard 😒

➰ send me a character + adj request!

soft morning sunlight filtered in through the window, filling the room with an almost ethereal glow. strong, muscled arms held your form close, puffy cheeks from just waking up being squished into firm pecs.

you were a fool to think that you would spend a rare day off not being practically glued to oikawa’s body. somehow, you both had a day where practice wasn’t mandatory and work was gracious enough to give you a day or two to breathe.

peeling open your eyes softly, you lazily pulled your head from his warm chest, locking eyes with a glowing pair of chocolate. the edges of his eyes crinkled slightly from the smile on his lips, and oikawa tooru has never looked more gorgeous than now, bathed in the soft argentina morning sunlight.

it filtered through his hair and lit up the chestnut locks to a dizzying array of hues, the beams streaking across his cheeks and straight into his right eye. the brown orb looked almost amber, a startling contrast from the richer cocoa of its twin hidden from the rays.

a soft “good morning” rumbles past slightly chapped lips, dry from him breathing through his mouth while he slept. the raspiness of his morning voice sent an indetectable shiver down your spine, and you lightly hum in response, droopy eyes crinkling in content at him.

tooru’s gaze takes in your morning form, drinking in your soft cheeks and mussed hair with greedy eyes. normally, were you more awake, the intensity of his gaze on you would’ve made your skin tingle and a familiar heat would spread across your face; making you blush and fluster over his gaze and words is something that tooru is prideful of.

but sometimes, if the stars are aligned just correctly, you find yourself in a position to finally turn the tables on the charming bastard. the warm giddiness that floods through your system whenever that rare sight of crimson taking over his features is a feeling like no other.

and it seems that the gods have decided to answer your unconscious prayers because the rare opportunity has presented itself to you once more.

love filled eyes watched as you silently trailed your hand down his chest and underneath the blankets, brows quirking in amused curiosity as your warm fingers found his underneath the fabric.

grasping his larger hand, you gently tug it up until it breaches the safety of the covers. nothing can prepare tooru as he watches you bring his hand up to cup your face tenderly, plump lips curling into a small smile as you close your eyes and nuzzle into his calloused palm.

you know how well he takes care of his hands, how they are his strongest asset and key piece to his extraordinary talent and skill. quite honestly, it’s one of your favorite parts of his body, but sometimes you feel as if you don’t let him know just how much you truly adore them.

they’re a pretty sight to behold; the way his long and dexterous digits, strong and powerful from years of playing, gently caress your skin or hold your hand tightly in its grasp steals your breath away.

with wide palms with attractive veins and sturdy knuckles, the way you can see his tendons and muscles flex as he moves them should be downright illegal, and you just can’t get over how his hands are powerful, gorgeous, versatile, yours.

so you decide to physically show him whenever your words fail you, as they often do whenever you’re in his presence. humming softly to yourself, you nuzzle further into his palm, relishing in the unique feeling of his callouses against your soft cheeks.

your hand that had dragged his up in the first place is resting against his as well, and tooru can’t tear his eyes away from the sight, your smaller hand looking so adorable gently pressed up against his.

with your eyes still closed and a sleepy smile on your lips, you finally respond to his good morning belatedly. “good morning love,” you rasp softly, and you can hear the way his breath lightly hitches at your words.

“i don’t think i tell you this enough, but i love your hands.” you muse softly, eyes still shut. it took everything in your power to not start smirking now. this was gonna be a good one.

“especially when they hold me so softly because i’m yours.” a startled choking noise emanates from the man across from you and you smirk, already knowing what scene is lying ahead of you.

when you open your eyes, they crinkle in triumph as they take in the rare but loved image of a flustered oikawa tooru.

sun kissed porcelain skin is positively on fire, the crimson spreading from the tips of his ears to the top of his chest. chocolate eyes are wide in embarrassment but you can see the adoration swimming in them as well.

cute pink lips are parted and coupled with the way his eyebrows scrunch cutely together, his face is the perfect embodiment of raw love and embarrassment. you softly snort when his pout deepens when you turn your head to press a gentle kiss to his palm.

even after all these years, he still doesn’t know how to take a genuine compliment. before you have a chance to tease him, a startled gasp escapes you as his hand is suddenly pulled away. those same hands you were just praising grab you and pull you flush to his chest while he begins to whine.

“baaaaabe~! you can’t just say stuff like that first thing in the morning!” he whined as he begins rolling back and forth with you in the bed, smiling softly into your hair at your shrieks of laughter and giggles get muffled in his chest, legs effectively tangled in the sheets now.

“don’t be mad that i’m just saying the truth!” comes your indignant reply. tooru finally stops his impression of a crocodile’s death roll, and now here you lay on his chest, cheek still pressed firmly to his pecs as you both lay there and try to regain your breath from the sudden exercise and giggling.

giggles are still slipping past your lips as you raise your head and prop your chin on him, gazing lovingly into his eyes. tooru returns it with just as much passion, cheeks still tinged pink from earlier. you decide to finally break the staring contest by leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, melting into everything that is him.

he pulls away first, laughing lightly at the way you softly chase after him, not wanting to part so soon. now it’s his turn to grin at you, reveling in the familiar but still loved heat that scrawls across your flesh when he murmurs out “i love you.”

you're about to whine in a similar fashion like earlier, but when he brings his left hand up to cup your face again, you catch the glint of sunlight off the gold band on his ring finger. you can’t find it in yourself to break this trance that has settled over you.

so you relax and let him hold you, basking in one another’s company in the golden light.