#we could’ve lost to anyone else

[luveline]

hotch's little sister x spencer perhaps?

—Hotch’s sister graduates college, and Spencer is immediately smitten. fem, 1.6k

“She’s pregnant.” Emily shakes her bag of chips around. “But it’s not his baby.” 

Spencer frowns down at his sandwich. Rye bread is hard to cut, and the plastic knife isn’t putting up a good fight. “That’s awful,” he says. “He must be heartbroken.” 

“He’s distraught. Now he can’t decide if he wants to stay and raise the new baby with their first, or leave her and have split custody.” 

“What channel did you say it was on?” 

“It’s on NightDrama. I’ll find out the number.” 

Emily folds the empty packet of chips into a rectangle, then that rectangle into a triangle, folding the edges inside of a fold to create a parcel perfect for flicking at him. Spencer waits for it, tensing, but what he sees behind Emily steals his attention. 

She whips her head to follow him. 

You are, as Spencer watches you walk in, without a doubt one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen. And it’s not like you’re a model, you don’t walk with any such confidence, but it strikes him immediately. You’re pretty. And he’s never seen you in the office before. 

They get visitors occasionally but the majority of people so deep into this office would've been checked at security and cleared to come up here. You hold a visitors badge in your hand, which you promptly clip onto your shirt when you see people looking at you. Your frown makes you prettier. Something about the way you stand seems familiar, but Spencer can’t put his finger on what it is. 

“Should we go help?” Emily asks. 

“Who do you think she’s for?” Spencer asks back. He’s thinking you’re here to speak to JJ. They have people like this occasionally who JJ knows from past cases, drifting in on a hope that there’s more detail to be found. 

Emily stands up from her chair. Spencer follows suit. When you see her facing toward you, some of your apprehension melts into relief. 

“Hi,” you say breathily, summoning a smile that, again, seems familiar. Not in looks, but practise, maybe. 

“Hi there, can we help? You look lost,” Emily says. 

She sounds more friendly than Spencer could’ve hoped to achieve. He doesn’t even wanna think about it, from how pretty you are he would’ve stumbled over even the most basic hello. 

“I’m here to see Aaron Hotchner. He told me his office is up the stairs, is that still one of these ones,” —you nod gently at the stairs that do, in fact, lead to his office— “or somewhere else?” 

“That’s the right one, the very first door.” 

“Okay,” you give a soft laugh. “Thank you. This place makes me nervous.” 

You leave to travel up the steps. Emily and Spencer watch without any casualness as you approach Hotch’s office door, and give a little knock. 

It’s more surprising to see it tugged open so quickly after. Hotch usually says, “Come in.” 

“Oh, you’re here,” Hotch says. It’s to Spencer’s shock and Emily’s clear joy when he leans in for a hug. The bearhug kind, no politeness or manners about their intimidating boss as his arms cross behind your shoulders and he pulls you in. “You’re late.” He squeezes you. 

You let it happen. “I hate your building.” 

“What the hell?” Emily whispers. 

“I’m so happy to see you. Come on, come in, I ordered lunch for us already.” 

Emily is shameless. She takes Spencer by the wrist and encourages him to the wall below Hotch’s office as he ushers you inside. The door remains ajar, perfect for snooping, and Spencer doesn’t know what it is but he lets Emily drag him forward anyhow. 

“If that’s his girlfriend, he should be ashamed,” Emily whispers. 

Spencer raises his brows. “Did you think that was romantic?” 

“I’ve never seen him show affection to anyone who wasn’t Haley, and when was the last time she was here?” 

Spencer tosses it around in his mind. Sure, it was quite affectionate by Hotch’s standards, but the hug was so… uncareful. He’d grabbed you and hugged you like he was gonna shake you around for fun, like a dad hugs his daughter. “How old is Hotch?” Spencer asks. 

“You don’t think that’s his secret kid.” 

“No,” Spencer says, though he sort of does. 

Emily gestures for him to hush as your laugh drifts down from the office. “You did?” you’re asking. “It’s so nice to be home.” 

“Of course I did. It’s like I promised, okay? You finished college like I asked you too, you’ve done so well, and now I’m gonna make sure you’re happy. Like I tried to do for Sean.” 

“Sean,” you sigh. “He didn’t even answer my grad card.” 

“I don’t know what to say about him, I really don’t.” 

A small pause. “Well, at least you answered.” 

“You know I would’ve come to watch you walk–”

“But you couldn’t. It’s fine, Aaron, I wasn’t really expecting you to make it.” 

“I’m sorry. Really. And I’m proud of you, after everything.”

“Thank you… The bag was better than you being there anyways. Coach?” You laugh breathily. “My friends keep asking me if you can be their big brother too.” 

Emily and Spencer turn to each other, mouths agape, Emily slapping his arm as they struggle to make no noise. Since when does Aaron have a sister? A young sister freshly graduated? 

Hotch laughs too. “Come and sit before your lunch gets cold.” 

Emily gets out her phone to text Morgan, she and Spencer pressed to the wall with their heads ducked. Hotch is a total enigma, because what the hell sort of secret is that?

When Morgan appears, it’s with all the answers. He rolls his eyes at their clear position of eavesdropping but leans against Emily’s desk to give them the information they’re craving anyways. “She’s adopted. Hotch was already in college at the time, but they’re close. They get along a lot better than Hotch does with Sean, that’s for sure.” 

“He sounds protective,” Emily says, side-eying the office. 

“Look, it’s not my business, but I just know it was bad when she was a teenager. Hotch is a drill sergeant for a reason.” Ah, Spencer thinks. The Hotchner father. 

Spencer picks at his hands. It explains the conversation he shouldn’t have been listening to, to a degree. He feels the guilt of knowing something he wasn’t meant to like a sodden weight, retreating swiftly to his desk and his forgotten sandwich.

It’s nice to hear Hotch laughing, but it’s your laugh that draws him in again while he tries so hard not to listen. It’s as attractive to Spencer as your frown had been when you walked in. He thinks about how you finished college, how you’re here, and he wonders if he’ll see more of you —how often will you come in for lunch? Spencer checks his hair in his sleeping monitor and feels like an idiot. 

“I’m sorry,” Hotch says a little while later, elbowing open the door with his back to the office, “we’ll have dinner soon, honey, I promise.” 

You reach up to give him another quick hug. “It’s fine. It’s just nice to be in the same city again.” 

Hotch guides you down to the bullpen with the same pride with which he introduced Jack. It’s unmissable, the love he has for you in just one touch against your shoulder. “Y/N,” he says, pausing at the bullpen, “Derek Morgan you’ve met. This is Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid.” 

“Spencer Reid?” you ask suddenly, looking up into Hotch’s face like he’s lying, your brows pulled together in indignation, before you turn back to Spencer reverently. “You’re Dr. Spencer Reid?” 

He gets caught on his own breath. “Uh, yes?” 

“The Dr. Spencer Reid who wrote Methods of Continued Fraction Expansions?” 

Spencer feels heat like a kiss to each cheek. “Yes.” 

You turn to Hotch with a suspicious pout. “When I told you about the paper I was reading by a Dr. Reid a few months ago, you didn’t stop to think it could be your Dr. Reid? Or you just don’t like me?” 

That’s a sister’s scorn if Spencer’s ever heard it. 

“I thought you said Rain.” 

“I don’t think you did.” You turn back to Spencer. “I can’t believe it, I emailed you about Jacobi elliptical functions, you were so helpful, I owe you my degree.” You put your hand out with a beaming, beautiful smile, Spencer’s stomach totally flips. “It’s amazing to meet you in person.” 

He’s a germaphobe, he is, and that doesn’t just go away when you meet someone lovely, but he shakes your hand. You surprise him too quickly to think beyond taking your hand letting it happen. You’re, like, glowing. 

Hotch gives him a funny look. Mostly impassive, but not quite. 

Spencer abruptly lets you go. “I don’t think you would’ve needed my help to get there in the end. You clearly knew what you were doing.”  

Hotch’s eyebrows silently rise. 

You turn back to Hotch again, your smile catching. “I like your friends.” 

He smiles. “Let me walk you down to the lobby, honey.” 

You let him guide you away, giving the present members of the BAU a wave with just your fingers before you go. 

Morgan and Emily look at him heavily. “Spencer,” Emily says. “What was that?” 

He doesn’t want to say what he thinks it was, so he doesn’t. “She was nice.” 

Morgan’s laughter is immediate. Spencer has to walk off to the kitchen for a cup of tea he doesn’t drink to escape him and the connotation of his laughing. Spencer hopes he’ll see you again soon, though if he’s half a good a profiler as he thinks he is, he might end up in trouble with your brother.

[bloodstainsandconfetti]

I think it’s important that we talk about Swansea and how he’s VERY MUCH SO meant to be a foil to Jimmy.

While Swansea comes off as grouchy, abrasive, and stubborn, the biggest thing about his character is that he’s HONEST. Brutally so. Meanwhile, Jimmy basically lies through his teeth to both himself, and everyone else, from the first moment we meet his character.

Swansea comes off as stubborn, as if he doesn’t take his coworkers seriously, not because he genuinely looks down on them but because he doesn’t want them to get hurt. While he does see Daisuke as just this naive young adult, we learn in the execution scene that he doesn’t necessarily see that as a bad thing. He wants Daisuke to retain that light that he lost as grew to become grizzled and exploited.

Swansea knows he’s good at his job and so he TAKES RESPONSIBILITY by making sure HES the only one doing the dangerous work. Because he doesn’t WANT to push it onto someone else and get them hurt. Meanwhile, again, Jimmy basically manipulates Daisuke into sacrificing himself all so Jimmy can make sure Curly isn’t dead in medical. (While not even caring what Anya does to herself)

Daisuke is basically Swansea’s “Curly” if that makes sense. There are multiple lines of dialogue that hint to him saving the pod for him, to give him the best chance of survival. However, when he gets horrible injured in the vent, instead of FORCING HIM TO STAY ALIVE in tons of pain (like Jimmy did w/ Curly throughout the whole game) he ends his life BECAUSE he cares about how Daisuke feels and not just how HE feels. Cause we all know Jimmy keeps Curly alive for very selfish reasons.

After everything, Swansea is extremely honest about who he is. The type of person he was and is and could’ve been. The mistakes he’s made, the things he actually cares about, even if they’re flawed or unhealthy. Meanwhile, even then, Jimmy continues to deny what he is and what is intentions are and what he really wants. He CONTINUES to refuse to take any sort of responsibility even when Swansea says to his face that he already sees past it.

Swansea is basically the narrative opposite of Jimmy, while also, funnily enough, kinda being used as a red herring at first. I mean, he’s the fat angry alcoholic old guy who carries an axe everywhere so ofc you’d expect him to be the bad guy. The story even shows you him trying to kill Jimmy/the player without context, to further sort of bait ur expectations. When in reality, he’s the one who saw Jimmy for what he really was before anyone else really did.

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

Just a...FRIEND!?

Yandere Wally x reader x yandere dick

The rooftop was quiet, save for the occasional gust of wind and the distant hum of Gotham’s endless noise. You leaned on the railing, gazing out over the city, a carefree smile tugging at your lips as you hummed to yourself. The last rays of the sun had already dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky with a pinkish hue, and everything felt almost too perfect—if not for the two figures approaching behind you.

Dick and Wally landed on the rooftop at nearly the same time, their movements so synchronized that it could’ve been a well-practiced routine. The two of them smiled at you, their faces lighting up in that way they always did when they saw you. You turned toward them, glowing with warmth.

"Hey, guys!" you said with your usual cheerful tone, your eyes sparkling with that innocent energy that could melt the coldest of hearts. "How’s it going?"

"We were just thinking," Dick began, stepping forward, his voice smooth and teasing, "that you’re way too adorable for Gotham’s dirty streets. You’re too pure to be out here alone."

"Yeah, you need us to keep you safe," Wally added, zipping around you in a blur of red and yellow, his smile mischievous. "Can’t have you running around like a lost puppy in this city. You might get...accidentally caught by someone bad."

You giggled at their usual antics, but before you could say anything else, you innocently dropped the bombshell that would change everything. "You two are the best friends anyone could ever ask for. Seriously, I’m so lucky to have you guys!"

Suddenly, the air went still. Both Dick and Wally froze in place, their eyes wide in cartoonish shock. They blinked a few times, exchanging a glance that screamed "Did they just say that?" Wally’s mouth opened and closed, as if the word ‘friends’ had short-circuited his brain, while Dick’s expression faltered like a malfunctioning lightbulb.

"F...friends?" Dick said slowly, his voice warping as if he were testing the word on his tongue, unsure whether it was something delicious or rotten. "Did you... did you just say we’re friends?"

"F-friends?" Wally repeated, his face transforming into exaggerated confusion, his hands thrown up in mock disbelief. "No, no, no! That’s not it, [Name]. That’s not it at all!"

You blinked, utterly oblivious to the storm of emotions raging in their heads. "Yeah! You know, because you’re always there when I need you," you added, oblivious to the panic you’d just unleashed. "You’re such good friends, really. I’m lucky!"

The two of them looked at each other again, and the moment was almost comedic. Their faces drooped in unison like two sad puppies, their shoulders slumping in exaggerated defeat. Wally took a few steps back, and then dramatically fell to his knees, clutching his chest as if your words had physically wounded him. "Not friends... not friends..." he repeated mournfully. "We’re not JUST your friends, [Name]. We’re everything."

Dick’s face contorted as if he were about to burst into tears, dramatically wiping a nonexistent tear from the corner of his eye. "Everything, [Name]. We’ve been by your side for so long, and you think we’re just your ‘friends’? Just your friends?" His voice cracked at the word “friends,” like it physically pained him to utter it.

You looked at the scene in front of you, your smile still shining brightly, not understanding the depth of their despair. You stepped closer, concerned now. "Oh no, I didn’t mean to hurt you guys! I just thought... well, you’re always so funny and caring, and I couldn’t imagine being without my best friends." You reached out to pat their heads like you would a couple of puppies.

At your touch, their heads both jerked back dramatically, as if you’d touched a live wire. Dick suddenly shot up, eyes wide and glowing with an intensity that only came from his overwhelming emotions, his voice rising comically. "You can’t think of us like that!" he practically whined, throwing his hands into the air, his whole body leaning toward you. "We’re so much more than that! SO MUCH MORE!"

Wally shot up as well, his eyes narrowed with playful but pointed seriousness. "Yeah, we’re not just your friends," he said, each word stretched out like a cartoon villain. "We adore you, [Name]! We’re practically your... your... guardians!"

"But you’re also... your only ones," Dick added in a theatrical whisper, stepping closer and lowering his voice for dramatic effect, as though to make sure you understood the weight of the statement.

The two of them stared at you, wide-eyed and utterly intense, their faces impossibly close to yours now, as if they might crumble under the weight of your response. And yet... you still didn’t catch on.

You blinked again, completely unaware of how much you’d just altered the delicate balance of their emotions. "Oh, I see! You both just want to make sure I’m safe, huh? You’re really nice," you said with a cheerful grin, completely missing the thick, cloud of despair hanging over them.

The exaggerated silence that followed was the only indication that perhaps... perhaps... something had gone terribly wrong.

(A/n: I'm imagining this in classic teen Titans style animation... )

[oldsoul007]

not a lot, just forever

joel miller x reader

summary: joel keeps grieving about what could’ve been of you two had kids…

a/n: angsty but also fluffy

joel miller masterlist

Joel leaned against the weathered railing of the porch, the cool evening breeze ruffling his shirt as he watched y/n through the open door. She was inside the house, cradling Tommy and Maria’s baby in her arms, her soft laughter mingling with the gentle cooing of the infant.

The sight hit him harder than he expected.

He had seen y/n with children before—she was great with them, always patient, always so gentle. But seeing her hold that tiny, perfect little thing, with a look on her face that could only be described as tender longing, made something shift deep in Joel’s chest. It was a quiet ache, one that had been there for years but had never been so sharp before.

He knew that look. He had seen it in the way she held Sarah when she was younger, the way she’d always cared for the people around her. But now, watching her with Tommy and Maria’s baby, he realized something he’d never allowed himself to think too deeply about: the family she might’ve wanted—the life they could’ve had—was a dream that had been stolen from both of them by the outbreak.

Joel clenched his jaw, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat.

It wasn’t fair.

Not to y/n. Not to anyone, really. They had lost so much, so much that words couldn’t even begin to explain. But when he saw her, holding that baby, a different kind of loss settled over him, one that felt heavier than the weight of everything else.

He could never give her that. He could never be the man who could offer her the kind of future she deserved. He had tried, in the early days, to imagine a life beyond survival. But he knew better now. Every time he let his guard down, every time he allowed himself to hope for something, the world seemed to take it all away again. And this… this was one thing he could never give her—something simple, something pure: a family. A child of their own.

He pushed himself off the railing and took a deep breath. The ache in his chest was still there, gnawing at him, but he wouldn’t let it show. Not now. Not when y/n was happy, not when she was in a moment that brought her peace. She didn’t need him to carry that weight for her.

Stepping inside, he paused in the doorway, watching her with the baby in her arms. She was smiling down at the infant, her eyes soft with a mixture of affection and something Joel couldn’t quite name. She looked up and caught his gaze, her smile widening in that way that always made his chest tighten, even in moments like this.

“Hey,” I said softly, my voice warm and inviting. “Come on in. Maria said we could keep her for a little while longer.”

Joel nodded, his throat tight. He didn’t trust himself to say much, not with the lump still lodged there. Instead, he stepped closer, his footsteps quiet on the wooden floor.

He reached out, brushing a lock of hair from my face. I tilted my head slightly, my smile turning into something softer, understanding.

“I know,” I said quietly, reading him in a way only I could. “I know what you’re thinking.”

Joel gave a small shake of his head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

I didn’t push, just offered him a look that was equal parts sadness and understanding. “It’s okay, Joel,” I murmured, my hand reaching out to rest on his. “I’m okay. We’re okay. It’s just… a moment.”

He swallowed hard, his hand trembling slightly as he placed it over hers. “I should’ve been able to give you that,” he said before he could stop himself, the words spilling out before he could rein them in.

I was silent for a moment, my gaze flicking to the baby in my arms before meeting his eyes again. “You gave me so much more than that,” I replied, my voice steady but full of emotion. “You gave me your trust. Your love. And you gave me the chance to live again, to be here. That’s all I’ve ever needed, Joel.”

The words settled over him like a balm, soothing the raw ache that had been gnawing at him. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the heaviness lifted, even if just a little.

He looked at her, really looked at her—the woman who had stayed by his side through the worst of it all. And in that moment, he realized that he didn’t need to give her the things he’d lost. What mattered was the life they had now, the one they were building together, despite everything that had come before.

He took the baby from my arms, his hands steady as he held the tiny life against his chest. She smiled softly at him, the love in her eyes undeniable.

And for once, Joel allowed himself to believe that maybe this—just this—was enough.

I sit on the couch, staring out the window at the setting sun, trying to settle the mix of emotions swirling in my chest. I know Joel’s been brooding; I could feel it even before he walked into the room. His footsteps are soft but heavy, his presence unmistakable as he steps inside

He doesn’t say anything right away, just stands there in the doorway. I can feel his eyes on me, on the empty bassinet where the baby had been sleeping earlier.

I don’t look at him. Instead, I say, “You’ve been quiet all day.”

He lets out a low sigh, stepping further into the room. “Just been thinkin’.”

I nod, knowing what’s coming but not sure I want to hear it.

“She is… somethin’ else, wasn’t she?” he says after a moment, his voice soft. “You looked good with her, y/n. Real good.”

I finally turn to look at him, leaning back into the couch. “She’s a sweet baby. But you know it’s not about her, Joel. Just say what you’re thinking.”

He hesitates, his eyes drifting back to the bassinet. “I can’t help it,” he finally says, his voice thick with emotion. “Holdin’ her, watchin’ you with her… I keep thinkin’ about what could’ve been. If the world hadn’t fallen apart. If we’d had a chance to…” He trails off, his voice catching. “To have a family of our own.”

My stomach twists, and I take a steadying breath. “Joel…”

He shakes his head, looking down at the floor. “I think about Sarah, about how things might’ve been different. I think about Ellie. And then I see you with that baby, and all I can think is… we never got the chance.”

I sit up, folding my hands in my lap. I know this pain. I feel it too, but I’ve had years to reckon with it, to make peace with what life took from us. “What do you want me to say, Joel?” I ask softly. “That I wish we could’ve had kids together? Of course I do. There was a time when I wanted that more than anything.”

He looks at me then, his face a mix of regret and longing, his hands still shoved deep into his pockets.

“But that’s not how life worked out,” I continue, my voice steady even as my heart aches. “And it’s okay to feel the loss of what could’ve been. But Joel, you’re all I need. You always have been.”

He stares at me for a long moment, his jaw tight, his eyes searching mine. “You mean that?”

I nod, giving him a small, sad smile. “I do. We’ve been through hell and back, Joel. And I wouldn’t trade what we have for anything. I just need you. That’s enough for me.”

Joel exhales slowly, like he’s been holding his breath. “I’m sorry, y/n,” he says quietly. “For not seein’ it sooner. For… not bein’ enough.”

I reach out, taking his hand in mine, squeezing it gently. “You are enough. You’ve always been enough. We’re here now, Joel. That’s what matters.”

The room falls quiet again, but the tension has eased. Joel sits down beside me on the couch, his shoulder brushing against mine. He doesn’t say anything else, and neither do I.

The bassinet is empty, but the space between us feels full—of love, of pain, of all the things we’ve lost and found together. And as the sun dips below the horizon, I lean into him, letting the silence say everything that words can’t.

“She’s lucky to have you watchin’ over her,” he says, his voice lighter now.

“And she’s lucky to have you around too,” I reply, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Uncle Joel has a nice ring to it.”

He chuckles, the faintest hint of a smile on his face. “Guess it does.”

We stand there for a moment, the weight of the past still there but just a little easier to carry. For now, that’s enough.

[my-body-likes-you-in-control]

Dormant Power

I was always quite clear in my Grindr profile—never shy about my age. Yeah, 57 was a bit older to be on here, but I kept myself in nice shape these days. Look at these abs. Not bad for a man pushing sixty.

It wasn’t always like this. Back when I was younger, I was out of shape, awkward, and kind of a loser. That was even with my power.

You see, I was 18 when I first realized I could swap bodies with people if we had sex without a condom. It wasn’t automatic; I had to choose to do it. If I focused just right on their body and let my energy flow, I could transfer myself into their head and push them back out into mine.

Over the years, I’d swapped with a few boyfriends—just for fun, just to see what it was like as them. I never asked first, and would always just explain myself afterward. I don't think any of them would have been super eager to try. In the end, we always switched back. None of them ever wanted to stay in my body, and honestly? I couldn’t blame them.

Then came John.

I’ll never forget that day. I was 22, freshly dumped, sulking on the rooftop bar of some grimy gay bar, drowning my sorrows in overpriced vodka. That’s when he walked up—tall, broad-shouldered, with the kind of confident swagger that only comes with being 37 and knowing exactly who you are.

"Rough day?" he’d asked, sliding into the seat beside me.

I sniffled into my drink. "You could say that."

He chuckled, clapping a heavy hand on my shoulder. "Kid, trust me—this ain’t the end. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you."

I remember staring at him, at the way his shirt clung to his chest, at the stubble along his jaw. "I just wish I could fast-forward to the part where I look like you," I muttered.

He laughed, shaking his head. "Hell, I’d switch with you in a heartbeat. Be young again? Sign me up."

That’s when I told him about my power.

He scoffed at first, of course. Who wouldn’t? But then he shrugged, that same easy grin on his face. "Sure, why not, kid? I’d love to do my 20s over again."

We slipped into the club bathroom, locked the stall, and—well.

We never switched back.

Twenty years later, and I still don’t think it was a bad deal. John’s body was hot back then, and now? It’s mine, still strong, still fucking sexy if I do say so myself. But it still seemed that John fared better. In my old body, he got into fantastic shape, met the love of his life, and settled down. Last I checked, he didn’t look a day over 35, even though technically he’s in a 42-year-old body now. Honestly, I’m happy for him, but it kind of sucks to see what could’ve been for me.

Meanwhile, I’m still on Grindr.

I’d gotten used to the rhythm of it—the flirty openers, the half-hearted conversations, the way so many guys lost interest the second they remembered they were talking to a man pushing sixty. Sure, I still had my abs, my confidence, my charm, but let’s be real: most of the younger ones just wanted the idea of a daddy. A fantasy. Something to get off to, but not actually someone to ever meet up with.

Not that it bothered me much. I’d had my fun with men closer to my age—guys who knew what they wanted, who weren’t afraid of a silver fox in their bed. But still.

And that brings me to tonight, to Charlie.

God, Charlie.

His profile is everything I’d ever wished I could be at his age. Toned but not overly muscular, sun-kissed skin, a smile that could melt steel.

And somehow, against all odds, he was into me. The only problem. He was 24.

I’d never pulled someone that young before—not in this body, anyway. I was old enough to be his father. Hell, his grandfather, if we were being generous.

But then his message popped up, and my doubts evaporated.

Charlie: "You’re way more interesting than anyone else on here. Drinks this weekend?"

I stared at the screen, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. Was this a bad idea? Probably. Did I care? Not even a little.

Me: "Only if you promise not to bail when you realize how old I actually am in person."

Charlie: "Pfft. I’ve got a thing for guys who know what they’re doing."

I smirked. Cheeky little shit.

Me: "Dangerous thing to say to me."

Charlie: "Good, I meant it."

Well.

How could I say no to that?

---

Charlie picked a bar just a few blocks from my place—a dimly lit spot with leather booths and cocktails strong enough to make you forget your own name. Smart kid. Close enough that if things went well, neither of us would have far to go.

He was already there when I walked in, lounging at the bar with a whiskey neat in front of him. Fitted black t-shirt clinging to his shoulders, dark hair slightly tousled like he’d just run a hand through it. Then he turned, saw me, and his smile hit like a punch to the gut.

Damn.

"You’re even hotter in real life," he said, sliding off the stool.

I laughed. "Laying it on thick already."

"Only if it’s working." Sharp grin.

And fuck, it was.

The age difference should’ve been obvious—me with my salt-and-pepper stubble, him with that effortless youth. But Charlie had this way about him, this easy confidence that made the years between us feel irrelevant. He asked about my career, my travels, the things I’d learned—not in that fake, polite way people humour an old man, but like he actually wanted to know.

And the flirting? Relentless.

A brush of fingers when he handed me a drink. A slow bite of his lip when I mentioned the gym. Leaning in too close when he laughed, thigh pressing against mine under the table. Then, finally, his hand sliding up my thigh as I talked about my dating life.

By the third round, I was done pretending.

"My place is five minutes away," I said, voice rough.

Charlie didn’t hesitate. "Lead the way."

The walk back was a blur—his fingers hooking into my belt loop, the hitch in his breath when I crowded him against my front door, fumbling with the keys.

"You sure about this?" I had to ask. Even with all those cheeky smiles and hungry eyes, he was still twenty-four.

Charlie answered by grabbing my collar and dragging me into a kiss that tasted like whiskey and bad decisions.

"Of course, sir," he murmured against my mouth.

---

Damn, he felt good.

I moved with slow, deep strokes, savouring every inch of him. Charlie’s eyes were closed, his expression peaceful, but his hands wandered over my biceps, his touch light and teasing. I flexed for him, smirking to myself, then guided his palms to my chest. His fingers traced my pecs before circling my nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. My hips stuttered in response, my rhythm faltering for just a second before I steadied myself.

Then his hands drifted lower, skimming the sharp V of my waist before settling at the base of my cock—right where the condom clung.

His voice was a breathless whine. “Take it off.”

I froze. “What?”

“I want to feel you.” His pupils were blown black, his chest heaving. “Please. I’m clean, I’m on Prep—fuck, just give it to me raw, sir.”

That last word sent a shiver down my spine.

I hadn’t done this in years. Not without protection. I should’ve been on Prep myself, but I just never got around to it. But Charlie—god, Charlie—was already a wreck beneath me, his legs locked around my waist, his rock hard uncut cock at attention against his stomach.

“You sure?” I growled, gently, but firmly stroking his lubed up cock.

His answer? A sharp gasp as he ripped the condom off himself.

I hesitated before slowly sliding myself back in.

“Fuck—”

Then I was inside him again, bare this time, and—Christ. The heat. The tight, velvety clutch of him. I’d forgotten how good it felt. How primal.

“That’s it,” Charlie moaned, head thrown back. “Fuck me just like that, sir.”

I lost myself in the rhythm, in the way his body moved under mine, in the filthy, desperate sounds spilling from his lips. He was perfect. Young. Gorgeous.

And then, a thought...

I could take this.

I could.

The condom was off. The power hummed under my skin, electric, waiting. All I had to do was want it.

Charlie’s hips stuttered. “I’m close—I’m so close—”

Then, trembling: “Take me, daddy. Take me.”

There it was. The universe had given me a sign.

I felt the shift before I even realized I’d made the choice—my consciousness unravelling, slipping—

And then—

I was looking up at my own body.

My old face twisted in pleasure above me, thrusts turning erratic as my new body clenched around him. The orgasm hit like a freight train, white-hot, all-consuming. Charlie’s—no, mine—back arched off the bed as I came all over my new chest.

“Fuuuuck,” my old voice groaned, hips jerking as he spilled inside me.

And just like that—

It was done.

I was him. I was 24 again.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Remmy and sensitive!reader who misheard him talking with James and Sirius about something/someone and mistakes it as them talking bad about them. Reader avoiding Remmy for days, avoiding his touch and barely talking to him until he has enough and confronts reader who just breaks down into tears instantly

“No I know mate! It’s so fucking annoying!” You hear the words tumble out of Remus’ mouth with full frustration and freeze in the doorway.

He could be talking about anyone. Right?

James pipes up next, “There’s no way they don’t know they’re fucking annoying.”

Maybe it is you.

“Doesn’t seem like it. They’re just always there. Sometimes some breathing room would be nice.”

You’re convinced now by Remus’ words that it’s you they’re talking about and the frog in your throat swells and tightens your vocal cords.

Silently, you wipe the tears running down your cheeks and make your way to the bathroom.

Remus knows you’re home ten minutes after his phone call when he smells your peach body wash wafting through the bedroom.

“Hi dovey,” his words saccharine as he holds his arms open to you.

“Hi,” you don’t walk into his arms, instead brushing the curve of his shoulder as you go to your closet for your pyjamas.

“Something wrong?” He leans back on his palms, worrying his bottom lip as he watches you change in the closet.

You wonder for a moment how he could’ve been so cruel and now pretend like he wasn’t just complaining to James about how much you’re around him.

“Uh uh,” Remus’ alarms are going off and he stands up, walking over to you now that you’re dressed.

“Dove,” he murmurs, hands holding your thighs. “Are you upset with me? Have I done something wrong?”

Has he done something wrong? The nerve of him- and still you can’t find it in yourself to do much else than tear up.

“No,” your breathing is quickly becoming labored and Remus worries that you might make yourself faint.

“Talk to me, baby.” It’s the baby that does you in, all soft and honeyed and sugary sweet when his words earlier had been so harsh and jagged.

“You told James that it was annoying that I’m always in your space.”

“What?” His heart stops, mind whirring at the impossibility of your words.

Sniffling you carry on, “I heard you when I came in-“

“Baby, no-“ you cut him off.

“It’s okay to want your own space, sorry for crowding you before.”

God Remus could cry at how small you sound.

“We weren’t talking about you baby, you have to believe that.” His massive hands are cupping your cheeks robe, keeping your eyes level with his.

“You don’t have to lie, Rem,” Your tears are still tumbling down, nose running while you hold your breath. You have a strange feeling this is going to head into, ‘we should break up’ territory.

“I’m not lying, sweet girl. You can call James now if you think so, but I swear we were talking about Frank and his newest fling’s inability to not be all up in each other’s space every five seconds.”

You blink, “So you don’t want us to break up? You aren’t annoyed with me? Because if you are,” you take a shuddering breath. “I can take it.”

Remus tuts, “There’s not a possible timeline where I’d be breaking up with you. Baby, I swear on everything holy and sacred that I wouldn’t ever think let alone speak about you that way. We really were talking about Frank.”

You sigh, tension releasing from your muscles. “M’sorry,” you whimper, shutting your eyes as Remus stamps soft, sticky kisses to your face.

“Nothing to be sorry for, my love.” Remus kisses your forehead and then your lips. “I love you more than life itself, dove. Not a fucking thing I wouldn’t do for you, yeah? Best thing I ever had.”

Remus spends the rest of the night kissing and holding you, he even calls James up to reassure you that he’d never speak about you like that.

James is aghast you even wonder and promise you that if Remus ever lost his mind like that he’d kick his ass.

[milotraflgkl]

Safe Word

SANJI X FEM!READER !SMUT!

note: THIS IS A REUPLOAD!!! content: SMUT!, safe word mention, sanji being a loser but also amazing in bed, finger, eating out, praises. WC: 2346

Sanji slowly looked up at you, “A.. A safe word?” He muttered, his cheeks turning slightly pink and his tone softened as if anyone could hear you two when you weren’t even near the crew. His eyebrows pressed together and he licked his lips as he looked back down at the meal he was prepping, he took a moment to continue his work his eyebrows staying where they were before he turned to look back up at you. “Why would we need a safe word?” He asks, his facial expression stuck on confusion but as you watched you could see how it slowly shifted to worry. “I haven’t been, hurting you during it.. right?” He asks, as he stops what he’s doing and quickly rounds the counter to stand next to you.

His hands quickly came up to your face and his thumb brushed your cheek gently, “No! Not at all Sanji.” You reassured him, you paused for a moment your facial expression struggling to find a set emotion to land on as your lips pursed out and then were brought back in. You opened your mouth, “But I wouldn’t… mind if you were a bit rougher.” You finally spat out the words, you felt your body become hot and you knew that the blush was obvious especially since you could see Sanji turn into a bright red tomato. “Oh… Oh…” He choked out, you felt his hands become sweatier and he slowly took his hands away.

He turned away and made his way to work on his dinner, “We aren’t that far from the next island.” He spoke out, you snapped your head to look towards him. “Wha..What?” You muttered, “We will get a room on the next island.” He said, his voice was deeper and as you watched him you saw how red the tip of his ears were.

The next few days were pure torture and it didn’t help that Sanji was practically teasing you, the way his eyes would stare at you until you connected eyesight and then he’d move his eyes down taking in every single inch of your body. The way his hands would linger a bit longer then would softly move away from your skin leaving chills down your spine, almost feeling yourself lean towards his touch not wanting it to leave. You couldn’t do anything about it either, especially with the lack of privacy getting Sanji alone or even being alone yourself was a rare delicacy. But what you would do to just jump onto Sanji and let him use you for his, clear desires? It felt like it was taking years to get to the next island, your body aching in need the more you thought about how far the island was and yet how close Sanji was.

Finally, the day had come, the ship was put securely into a spot on the dock and the crew had finally decided on a good place to stay. Sanji and you were put in a room together because of your relationship but also because Sanji double-made sure with a quick request told to Nami. You felt yourself become more tense and excited for night to come, as the crew went about their normal routine of gathering supplies then heading to the closet bar to finally relax after so many days of sailing.

You sat at the bar and drank a small martini that had a paper umbrella in it, that was so graciously gifted to you by the bartender who had the hots for you. You didn’t pay him any mind more so lost in the thoughts of why Sanji had been so distant yet so close, as well as the sound of chatter and music taking up the rest of any other space that could’ve been left to think about the bartender who constantly had his eyes on you. You slowly stirred the paper umbrella around in the drink, your elbow against the counter and chin being held by your hand. As the bartender came over for the fifth time to interrupt your thought he asked if you were enjoying the drink and if you needed anything else, as well as sliding in a smooth flirt. You giggled at the notion, more flattered that he found you attractive. You denied a new drink and silently ignored his flirt unaware of the glaring eyes only feet away from you, it didn’t take long for you to notice when you felt a hand snake against your back and hold the side of your body tightly. You quickly turn and look up at Sanji who was already staring at you, a soft smile on his face and his beautiful blue eyes admiring your facial features. But most importantly your lips, it seemed that after a moment of looking at the top of your face, his eyes froze at your lips and didn’t move an inch. “Hi, Sanji.” You spoke out finally and his eyes immediately snapped to look back into yours, “Hi [Name].” He responds.

It didn’t take much longer until two of his fingers gently moved to find the bottom of your chin, pushing your head up a bit more before he leaned himself closer to you and pressed his soft lips against yours. You could taste nicotine fresh on his lips, he must’ve just come in from a smoke. You thought to yourself before they were interrupted by the feeling of his hand softly grazing your knee and moving upwards on your thigh, threatening to reach up the bottom of your dress. You looked down at his hand and grabbed it gently, “What do you think you are doing?” You ask him, Sanji looks at you with desire glossed over his eyes and his pupils blown out absorbing ocean-blue eyes. “I got us a room.” He responds as he squeezes your thigh gently his lips gently grazing against yours, you shudder at the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You nod unable to think properly about the situation you are in, Sanji gently moves his hand to grab ahold of yours and pulls you along with him as you leave the bar. Sanji leads you through this building and up the stairs until you find a room with the numbers that match the numbers engraved on the key that Sanji held in his off-hand. He slowly lets go of your hand and unlocks the door, stepping inside the room and then holding the door open for you as you step in afterward.

With one swift movement, Sanji grabs ahold of your waist and guides you to the bed, he’s gentle with his actions still keeping up his gentlemanly personality. His lips quickly find yours as well as his hand finding the nape of your neck to hold you closer, while his hand left on your waist gently pulls you closer to his hips allowing you to feel the bulge that pressed harshly against his nice dress pants. You moan as you feel him pressed against you and this only allows him to slip his tongue into your mouth, it’s slow at first the way his tongue dances along with yours before he becomes desperate for more as if he is starving and wants to taste more of your lips. You begin to run out of air and pull away from him, a trail of saliva connects between your tongues as you both look at each other with lust and need. Sanji didn’t waste any time as he moved back to you and kissed gently along your jawline, you tilted your head allowing him more access to your neck, and as if he read your mind his lips slowly trailed down your neck beginning to give gentle bites to it. He began to slowly suck on your skin leaving marks that would be visible to everyone the next day and as an apology for being so harsh he’d kiss it gently, his hand slipping up your neck and up to your head to hold it.

He wanted you to feel secure and safe before he allowed himself to go crazy, His hand on your waist gripped tightly before it found its way down to the bottom of your dress and slowly snaked its way underneath. It sent a shiver down your spine at the way his thin and cold fingers ran across your thigh ever so softly, it did make you feel extremely safe and well cared for. The way his fingers gently lifted your dress upwards and the hand that had held your hand slipped down to grab the zipper of your dress pulling it down. The straps of your dress fell off to the side and revealed your chest that wasn’t hidden by anything as you decided to not wear anything underneath. Sanji pulled away from your pretty and purple-decorated neck, his eyes slowly moved from your neck and down to your chest as he let out a shaky breath at the sight of you. “God… [Name]…” He moaned out as his hands slowly made contact with your breasts and held them gently before his fingers moved to gently twist at your nipples. The small whine you released from your throat was as if the angels from heaven were singing upon Sanji to come toward the gates of heaven.

Sanji didn’t spend any time before he reached his head down and his mouth found the soft skin of your breasts, he gently kissed it and then left a few open-mouthed kisses. “God [Name]…” His hot breath against your chest made you shiver, “You are absolutely beautiful.” He whispered against your skin, as his hands slowly moved from your breast and slowly moved to the rest of your dress tugging it down slowly until it rested against your hips. His hands shook against your skin almost with nerves that he could easily break you like you were the finest china in the world. His hands gently squeezed your hips before he continued to move your dress down your thighs, he took in a shaky breath as he looked at your lower body covered by lace underwear. You had to lift yourself slightly to get the dress to slip from under your butt and Sanji continued to take the dress off and then dropped it onto the floor.

He wasted no time latching his lips back onto your skin, his lips dragging down slowly before they reached the hem of your underwear and the feeling of his warm breath sent a shiver down your spine and a shock to your core. “Relax [Name].” He whispers against your skin, his hands slowly moving to push your shoulders back as a way for him to tell you to lay back which you did gladly. “I’m going to treat you tonight~” He hums, he looks down your torso to catch sight of your eyes and the two of you stare for a moment before you watch his curled brow disappear below down to your clit. His tongue dragged against the fabric and the feeling of his spit mixing with your already-soaked underwear caused you to whimper, “S..Sanji..”. You begged him as your hand found his golden locks to hold them. “Use your words, princess.” He speaks between your thighs, and you become flustered at the explicit words that you would have to say. “Please take my underwear off…” You beg him, your hand tightening against his hair which causes him to groan and send vibrations to your core.

“Of course princess.” He responds, his fingers sliding up from your thighs to grab the top of your underwear and slide them off throwing them off to the side. “So wet for me~” He sings out before he dives in. The feeling of his tongue caused you to yelp in shock and your back arched as his tongue began to swallow you whole, the feeling was so overwhelming as his tongue curled inside of you. His fingers followed after, and two of his lanky fingers slipped into you and found the spot that made you sing out that sweet sweet melody Sanji loved to hear. His fingers moved inside of you with such skill, that your back began to arch more. “Ngh, Sanji please…” You hummed out your knuckles becoming white from holding onto his hair so tightly, He didn’t he was relentless with his tongue as it moved inside of you. As he worked inside of you, his tongue hitting every spot and his fingers pumping in and out of you quickly.

You were squirming underneath him but his hands held onto you so tightly that all of your movement was limited, “fu..fuck” you muttered, “I’m… I’m gonna cum…” you whimpered out, but Sanji didn’t stop. He kept plunging his tongue into you relentlessly and his fingers continued to reach the spot, it didn’t take long before you began to release yourself into his mouth and Sanji took in every single last drop that you let out. Even with the sounds coming from your mouth, he held your hips tightly and didn’t seem like he was going to let go of you anytime soon. He swallowed your release and continued to eat you out, it took you a moment to realize that he was still eating you out. The feeling was becoming overwhelming and overstimulating, your legs began to tighten around Sanjis head which he slowly held your legs apart. He didn’t stop, he was eating you like it was the last thing he’d ever get to eat in his life. It took you a moment before you quickly slipped the safe word out, which Sanji stopped and looked up towards you. You watched his face emerge covered in your juices, “Princess… I’m not even done.” He whispered to you his pupils blown out.

[queenjulia11]

The scene with Dorian’s mom. God. I love the way Matt plays parents of all kinds, but this was one of his best if you ask me. We learn so much about her just in her introduction.

This woman is a public-facing figure who very recently lost a child, and you can see it on her face right away when Matt plays her. That neutral expression of having to do a mundane task like making tea, because for some fucking reason the world keeps turning even when you’re in the worst pain imaginable. And then she sees her other son who ran away and has been missing for almost a year, and she is immediately overcome with relief and joy just to see him safe again. She doesn’t blame him or tell him she’s been worried sick. She’s just so happy to see him again.

And of course she says no when Dorian asks her if she hates him. Because he’s her baby, there’s no universe where she could ever hate him. But I really appreciate how she doesn’t go on a whole thing like “oh my gosh, sweetheart, of course not, it wasn’t your fault, etc.” Because even though all of that is definitely true, she knows it’s not what Dorian needs to hear right now. He won’t believe it.

She just says “no.” She just takes the weight off of his shoulders and gives him space to break in a safe, comfortable place.

And Dorian; sweet, noble, anxiety-ridden Dorian, who has been putting others before himself and pushing his emotions and grief all the way down because of more important work for so long, finally has the time to truly mourn his brother.

And his mother just holds him. No one else is here but the two of them. He gets to be her baby again for just a moment. She is so proud, and so sorry. She wishes she could’ve done more for him. But she is doing the one thing she knows she can do to help better than anyone else: and that is hold her son until he falls asleep in her arms, just like he did when he was small.

There’s nothing like a good, long cry when you’ve been needing one for a long time. It opens you up to so much. I really appreciate how Robbie shows that: how Dorian is crying through Orym’s whole speech to him, even if it’s a happy moment. It really shows how safe he feels with Orym now that he can just let it go. I love how Dorian says “yes” before Orym has even asked the question because he doesn’t feel guilty for wanting things anymore. I love how he asks if they can take it slow because it still hurts too much to be happy. I love how he kisses Orym, and how he lets Orym kiss him.

This character has grown so dramatically over the years, and it’s been a spectacular thing to witness. I’m so happy Dorian feels comfortable enough to live as himself now with the people he loves, and how he continues to exist in this beautiful world despite all the harshness he’s faced within it. I’m so happy he gets to heal, as messy and slow as it will inevitably be.

Fair winds, Dorian Storm. 💙

[zenokei]

blue lock manga chapter 271 spoilers, mentions, and analysis (this is an absolute word vomit)

my drabbles, understanding, and analysis on the itoshi family goes something like: when the itoshi parents didn’t know how to properly deal with rin’s behavior when he was little but sae seemed to be the only one that can ‘understand’ and ‘get along’ with rin—they unintentionally gave the responsibility to sae.

i suspect that their thinking is something along the lines of “sae seems like he’s got an understanding of rin that we don’t, maybe it’s better that way, he’s rin’s big brother, after all.”

and honestly, i think that’s why we as the readers find the itoshi parents “distant” from the brothers’ lives.

but do i think they’re bad parents? not necessarily, although i also do think that they could’ve done more. but given certain circumstances…it’s kind of subjective.

let’s talk about itoshi mom first

evidently, itoshi mom is a very concerned mother: she doubts herself, she worries for rin (and sae), and she’s generally lost.

and how could she not feel all those things?

i perceive this as she’s a mother who doesn’t distance herself from her children, but because she doesn’t know what to do at all, she seems hopeless and doesn’t have any solution to fix things. naturally, she has the instinct to do what a parent should in times like scolding, etc—however, this is blue lock, everyone has their own ‘ego’, yet some of those inner desires are just cultivated beyond rationality at this point.

(which strengthens my suspicion about the itoshi parents unconsciously putting the responsibility of rin’s behavior onto sae…)

now, itoshi dad

honestly, i don’t have much to say about him, he’s pretty hands off with what’s happening with their children.

as seen, he does seem more composed and lax about everything, and sae definitely got that from him. i wonder if it’s because of itoshi dad’s ‘talks’ (?) with sae that somewhat developed sae to be the big brother he was to rin back when they were little.

i believe the narrative is just implying that he doesn’t think much of the behavioral differences that rin and sae show, even when rin gets injured and gets in trouble, which is a little yikes on his end but that’s just what i understood.

most definitely, the siblings got the trait of being closed off from their dad, lol.

overall, i still don’t believe they’re bad parents whatsoever. however, i do want to talk about my recurring theory that the itoshi parents gradually placed the responsibility of rin’s behavior (and his whole development) onto sae.

let’s discuss the impact of itoshi sae

when sae was around 13-14, he went to spain, and during the pre-teen/teenage years of the itoshi brothers, their family seems rather peaceful.

the itoshi parents—aside from the pride and joy they felt about sae’s success as a rising soccer player—seem rather refreshed, anew, and just happier. they don’t carry the gloom of being worried for their children’s behavior anymore.

but why?

it’s because of rin and sae’s bond over soccer. from a young age, rin has joined his big brother’s soccer team as they both relished the games they could never play with anyone else aside from each other. basically, the itoshi brothers found what they were for. and they definitely got occupied over it.

though i’m only connecting the dots for my own analysis, i firmly believe that the moment rin played soccer with sae, he found a way for his destructive mindset to be utilized. through soccer—the only thing rin has been focusing on—rin was able to effectively let out his desire to break, destroy, and kill what’s “amazing/perfect”.

and who was the only one there by his side, every pass after pass and goal after goal? of course, it’s his big brother. the one to only truly understand and see rin from the very beginning.

honestly, it all makes me wonder if the itoshi parents ever talked to sae one-on-one about rin’s behavior. (which honestly makes sense, because sae seems like a pretty obedient kid). but at the same time, what are the chances it made sae extremely analytical, too?

i mean, sae was deemed a prodigy at what 7 years old? that’s seriously insane. so it shouldn’t be a surprise that all of what’s leading up to the ego of the itoshi siblings plays a big part. i’m leaning on the possibility that sae was somehow influenced by the itoshi parents to be more keen or observant on rin—that or sae was only doing what he did out of pure instinct, that’s entirely plausible.

however, whatever the course may be, the outcome that sae noticed something with rin (even before their ego in soccer) will not change.

from this point onwards is just my random babbles about the itoshi family’s relationship (kind of…)

“but when sae left for spain the itoshi parents didn’t appear to care about rin-” i am not hearing that. we should remember that blue lock is (honestly borderline but whatever) about SOCCER.

i believe the first ever backstory we got of the itoshi siblings was only soccer-centered, and in rin’s perspective/narration. why would his parents be included in his soccer career when they most definitely weren’t?

again, i don’t believe that they’re bad parents.

also, i doubt that itoshi mom would ever just stop worrying about rin, even when he’s grown up! in fact, i think that with sae leaving for spain, she probably felt even worried because their children are separated. yet at the same time, i do see her not knowing what to really do again. perhaps they had no cameo after the airport scene because rin found it irrelevant in regards to soccer and his ego.

but, then again, i’m very certain that the itoshi parents do care for their children, and are still connected to them somehow…just not when it comes to the field.

aside from the second backstory (the most recent one) they look out for them (i assume this goes for rin too). in the character book the egoist bible, sae mentioned how his parents send him salted kelp from home to go with his rice when he asks. additionally, we saw itoshi dad say in their first back story for sae to “take care of your health!” as he leaves for spain. the itoshi parents do seem to care for rin and sae as supportive parents of athletes, however, only in the sidelines, because i personally don’t think it goes deeper than that.

honestly, everything for me is pointing that the itoshi parents aren’t active and present in the itoshi brothers’ soccer careers. not necessarily implied, but in the ‘another blue lock: episode omotesando’, rin is the only one seen that has a ticket to sae’s japan triumphant match. a ticket sae sent—of which i assume—only to him.

although this is all still just my speculation, i am still leaning on that the itoshi parents aren’t really relevant in the itoshi siblings’ soccer life, but rather, they play a role in how they ended up developing.

that’s all!

again, this are just my own thoughts about this chapter. this is not canon by any means and i am not forcefully saying what i am discussing is right and should be deemed the only theory/ies out there.

i’d love to talk more about theories and analyses on blue lock, let’s chat!

[jaeyunluvbot]

i love you, i'm sorry

this is part one to my series emails i can’t send

note .ᐟ ermmmm so this one is actually based on my kind-of-situationship with my ex bsf and it actually hurt so bad to write so i hope yall enjoy :p

Subject: (no subject) To: (unsent)

Dear Heeseung,

This is so stupid. I don’t even know why I’m writing this. Maybe because I know I can’t say it out loud, not to you. I like this. Whatever this is. It’s fun, it’s easy, and I don’t have to overthink it when I’m with you. But sometimes, I catch myself wishing it were more. And then I remind myself that it’s not. I know we made rules and we both agreed, but I can’t help wanting more. I can’t be the only one feeling this. When you look at me like that, when you stay just a little longer than you should, when you text me first for no reason at all, I wonder if you ever think about it too.

Anyways, I’ll probably never send this, but it feels good to get my feelings out.

Yours,

Y/N

(Draft saved at 2:13 AM)

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Subject: It’s fine

To: (unsent)

Heeseung,

You didn’t even hesitate. I know we’re not actually together but how could you be so sure in your words? That girl, that gorgeous girl who’s probably a way better fit for you than me, asked if you were seeing anyone and you said no so quickly. Right in front of me too, you didn’t even hesitate. You even laughed, I know it wasn’t personal, but is the idea of us being together so laughable to you? I guess it’s true that you’re not seeing anyone, that you’re not mine. Maybe you never were, but for some reason, I convinced myself we had something real. Maybe you were just afraid to acknowledge it, or maybe you just weren’t ready for something like that. I know now that I was wrong, so why does it feel like I lost something? Anyways, I don’t know what else to say, my feelings are immeasurable and somehow simple at the same time. I know I’m foolish but I’ll always be yours, even if you don’t want me.

Yours,

Y/N

(Draft saved at 11:48 PM)

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Subject: I don’t know what I was expecting To: (unsent)

Today I asked you if this meant anything to you. You looked at me like I had just said something awful, and I knew at that moment, I had ruined everything. You said it wasn’t supposed to be serious and that we both agreed there would be no feelings involved, but I still fell for you. I suppose it couldn’t be helped. For a moment there, a perfect moment, I thought maybe you’d smile, and tell me you loved me too, that it was ok that I’d fallen for you because you’d fallen for me too. That was stupid of me, I know that now, but at that moment I really thought that all our late night conversations meant something to you. I wish I could hate you, or put you out of my mind, I wish I regretted it. But the worst part is, I don’t. I love you, and I think I’ll always love you, even if you never speak to me again. This is getting really depressing so I’ll leave it here, I just wish I could say this to your face.

Yours,

Y/N

(Draft saved at 3:27 AM)

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Subject: (no subject) To: (unsent)

It’s been weeks since we’ve talked. I don’t even know why I still write these. Maybe because if I don’t, I’ll say it out loud. And if I say it out loud, it’ll be real. It’ll ruin everything more than I already have. I miss you. I don’t miss the way we ended, or the way you left. But the way you laughed at your own jokes before even finishing them. The way you always sent me songs in the middle of the night. The way you lingered, even when you didn’t have to. I know you don’t miss me, I saw you with that girl yesterday. I know you’ve moved on. But a small part of me hopes you’ll hear a song that reminds you of me and remember that I exist, and that I love you. I would’ve given you all of me, and I like to think, with some time, you could’ve done the same for me. I won’t send this because I know you won’t reply. But I hope, somewhere deep down, you miss me too.

Yours,

Y/N

(Draft saved at 1:04 AM)

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Subject: I should stop writing these To: (unsent)

It’s been six months. Not that I’m counting or anything. I moved into a new apartment last week. It’s small, but it has these huge windows that let in so much sunlight. You would’ve liked it. Or maybe you wouldn’t have. I don’t really know anymore. I feel like maybe I never knew you. I got a job too. It’s nothing special, but it keeps me busy. That helps. I don’t think about you every day now. Only sometimes. Like when I pass by that convenience store we always went to at 2 AM. Or when someone laughs the way you used to. Or when I hear that one stupid song you kept putting on repeat. It’s funny, we weren’t even together and yet I still feel like maybe I once had a part of you like you had a part of me. I should move on, I think I’m moving on, but sometimes it still hurts. It hurts like it did when you were still here, when we’d spend all night talking and you’d leave in the morning. It’s weird though, the pain is comforting in a way, like a reminder that it was real, that you actually existed in my life. But it’s better now. I’m better now.

Love,

Y/N

(Draft saved at 10:22 PM)

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Subject: No, but seriously, I should stop To: (unsent)

I ran into Sunghoon today. He asked me how I was doing, and I lied. I told him I was great, just busy and tired from work. He gave me this look, like he knew. We didn’t talk about you. But I could feel it there, hanging between us. You must’ve told them what happened. Or maybe you didn’t say anything at all, and that’s why it feels so much worse. I hate that I’m a stranger to you, someone you kept secret, when all I wanted to do was be with you, to show you that we could work, even if you were scared. I wish I never met you. I wish I didn’t give you the power to hurt me like this. It’s even worse because I know you aren’t doing it on purpose, I know you’re a good person, and that we just weren’t meant to be, but still, I wish I’d never let you in. I don’t know. Maybe I’m overthinking it. Maybe I should stop writing these.

(Draft saved at 12:37 AM)

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Subject: I think I’m finally okay. 

To: Heeseung.

I don’t know why I’m still writing these. I think it’s just a habit now. It’s weird, when I think about us, it doesn’t hurt as much anymore. It’s like looking at an old photograph, you remember the moment, but it doesn’t feel like you’re living in it anymore. Like some kind of fucked up coping mechanism. The fact that you’ll never see these also helps, I can be honest and say everything I’m feeling, everything I could never tell you, or anyone, for that matter. Anyways, I finally started dating again, and I don’t compare everyone to you. I think that means I’m okay. Or at least, I’m getting there. This will probably be my last time writing one of these, since my therapist told me they weren’t doing me any good, and that I should try to completely stop thinking about you. So I guess this is goodbye, even though you won’t see this, I hope you’re doing well.

Love,

Y/N

(Sent at 1:58 AM)

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Subject: I don’t know what to say From: Heeseung

Y/N,

I don’t know if you meant to send that. But thank you. I think I’ve read it a hundred times already. I keep wondering if you wrote it in a moment of weakness or if you’ve been holding onto those words for a while. Either way, I don’t think I deserve them. I don’t think I deserve to know how you’re doing. But I’ve wanted to ask for so long. I wish I could say I’ve been okay too. That I’ve moved on the way you have. But the truth is, I still find you in the smallest things. The songs I skip on my playlist because they don’t sound the same without you humming along. The space in my bed that’s too big now, even though you were never supposed to stay the night. The way I feel when I catch a glimpse of a girl who looks like you in public. I’ve told myself a thousand times that we weren’t meant to last. That what we had was temporary, built on borrowed time, that we were never serious, never real. But it never felt temporary to me. Not really. I guess I was scared, scared to let you in, and scared to get hurt. I thought that if I never let you get too close, it wouldn’t hurt as much when we inevitably fell apart. I was wrong. I should’ve let you in, I should’ve shared myself with you like you did with me. I regret it everyday. I should’ve reached out and said something, or I should’ve just been honest from the start. But it’s too late now, you’ve moved on, and I guess I have to as well. I don’t know what I’m trying to say. Maybe I just miss you. Maybe I always have. Take care of yourself, okay? I hope you find happiness in someone who’s not afraid to love you openly.

Yours,

Heeseung

(Sent at 8:21 AM)

[darnell-la]

𝗗𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗥 ... 𝗙𝗘𝗘𝗧 𝗔𝗪𝗔𝗬

pairing: dark!pervy!professor!logan howlett x student!reader

summary: the job of a mentor shouldn’t be hard, but for Logan Howlett, it was when one of his best students wasn’t so innocent after all. professors are trained to hold themselves, but something within Logan wanted to release all out on that so-called innocent student.

warnings: Logan is a slight perv, nudes, anal, forced anal, rough sex, age gap, overpowering, degrading, jealousy, anger, cnc/SA, etc.

note: many of our supporters are asking for out-of-pocket Logan Howlett, and it’s so hard finding ways to write him in that way. REQUEST!

DO NOT READ IF CNC/SA MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!

———

There has been a situation going on around the school. Some kids have made a hook-up app for mutants around the school. The professor found out after having to confiscate a student's phone for texting during class.

Professor Howlett has been investing, and trying to get several student's names to call the office and shut the app down.

By doing that, he used the student phone he had to take during class. Sadly, that student wasn’t a student people wanted to hook up with, or even go on a date with. Logan had no luck until a few minutes ago when an anonymous student messaged him.

“Hey, I know it’s hard to find people on here, but I was thinking we could maybe hang out?”

Logan couldn't stop laughing to himself, happy that he could put this shenanigan situation to the side until several attachments popped up on the phone.

At first, he didn’t think of anything, but as soon as he tapped on them to reveal what was sent, his jaw dropped.

The student was y/n, and the attachments she sent were something he would’ve never thought of her doing. Half of what was sent were videos while the rest was her masturbating with toys.

A specific one had stood out to him, which made him feel like the biggest creep there could be, but he couldn’t stop watching.

She had laid on her back so when she spread her legs, everything was exposed. She rubbed so much lube onto herself, that he was confused until she pulled a dildo out and pushed it against her back door.

The way she moaned, made him lost in the video. He hadn’t even known the video was five minutes long. He could tell she could barely take it up her ass, but the way she struggled and still tried was amazing. Especially when she finished all over the place.

“I’ve never done anal, so I’m afraid that’s off-limits. Anything else is completely fine though!”

Logan looked at her message, still thinking if that was all real. Was that really y/n? If this was anyone else, he would’ve called a school meeting in seconds, no matter how late it was, but y/n — He didn’t know what took over him.

“Send room number. Be there in 5. Look pretty,”

In y/n’s head, she thought how oddly the student typed. She hadn’t been around the student to know him fully, but she knew no student typed the way he did.

“Could I perhaps have some videos of you?” Y/n asked, making Logan’s heart skip a beat. “No need, Bub. I’m real,” Logan typed, making y/n gasp. Anyone could’ve figured out who the person was behind the phone after using that word. Bub.

“Logan? What the hell are you doing on here??” Y/n asked, only making Logan’s heart drop further. “What?” Logan tried covering himself off, but that only made y/n laugh on her bed.

“It’s fine, Logan. I like older men anyway. Have you done anything like this before?” Y/n asked. Logan wanted to throw the phone and spazz on how he could’ve blown his cover this bad.

“No,” the man replied, not knowing his cock had grown hard at the thought of y/n still wanting to proceed with the conversation. “Just come up to room 411,” Y/n said before going offline.

Logan had thought this would be easy to deal with since y/n never seemed like a student to blackmail people, but something ran through his head as he got up from his office chair.

How many people has she done this with? That thought alone boiled his blood. He had thought y/n was innocent, and one of the good students. She lied to him, telling him a few months ago that all she cared about was her training and education.

Y/n had fallen asleep after the first hour of Logan not showing up. She had thought he had maybe backed out, and she was fine with that.

Little did she know, Logan had been keeping himself back for the past hour. Everyone in this school is still training, even the professors, and though they can usually control themselves, this was a small situation that turned big.

Logan was mentally and physically going insane, wanting to teach a student he had trust in, a lesson for lying and doing this that wouldn’t help her training and education in the future.

He held himself back for as long as he could, but now he was walking through y/n’s bedroom door. Y/n had woken up from her sleep after hearing her bedroom door close and lock.

“Oh, hey! — I wasn’t expecting you. I thought you might’ve changed your mind,” y/n said as Logan basically ripped off his clothes until he was exposed. Y/n’s eyes widened at his huge and throbbing size.

“Where’s the lube?” Logan growled as he stared y/n’s figure down. She had fallen asleep in the little bit of clothing she wanted to surprise him in. “Uh, the desk right here, but, I’m not really into anal,” y/n assured for the second time tonight.

Logan ignored her and went through the desk she had pointed out to him. “On your stomach — Edge of the bed,” Logan said. He had barely given her time to move before he put her into the position himself.

“Sir, just my pussy, okay? I-I didn’t really prepare for anal tonight,” y/n said, hoping her professor would listen. Instead, Logan spread a bunch on her upper hole, and the rest he stroked his cock with.

“Okay, sir?” Y/n asked to know if he heard her. He did, but he didn’t care. Why would she tease him with that one video if she wasn’t thinking about her hole getting used tonight?

“Mr. Howlett, I said the other-“Y/n tried to get up, but Logan pushed her face into the sheets as his cock pushed through her walls, instantly feeling her grip him as tight as she could.

“Oh fuck,” Logan couldn’t believe how amazing she felt within seconds. “Mr. Howlett, please — I-It hurts a little,” y/n whined, shifting under him to feel more comfortable, but that didn’t matter as he pushed further into her until she was filled.

The scream she let out, was enough to make him leak in her already. “Be as loud as you want, Bub. Hank designed these walls for the privacy of the professors and the students — No one’s gonna hear how un-innocent you are,” Logan whispered in the young girl's ear before he leaned back up and began pounding.

The room filled with nasty noises in seconds. Logan couldn’t seem to get enough of what he was doing. It’s like something took him over once he felt the insides of y/n and the noises she could make.

“Logan, please,” y/n cried out, feeling like he would break her any second now. At first, she hated the way he didn’t listen to her, but after the first few pumps, she couldn’t get enough of it herself.

The feeling of her the Wolverine coming in her to have his way with her, degrade her, and even groan at how perfect she was, only send her gushing around his cock in seconds.

“You’re not so innocent, princess, so how about you cum on my cock again, yeah? Because this ain’t gonna be the last time I have you,”

[luveline]

I need more Hotch x teacher PLEASE, I’ll take anything 😭🙏🏻

Mr. Hotchner —call me Aaron, he always says, because he’s a bully— walks across the school grounds with his son stuck to him. 

According to your colleagues, Jack used to be more outgoing. Not extroverted, but friendly, with many friends and lots to say. But after the passing of his mother a few years ago he’s become a quieter child. It’s not uncommon to see him glued to his father or his Aunt Jess before school. 

You tuck your hands in your cardigan against the early summer morning chill. “Hello,” you greet as the Hotchners approach. “Good morning.” 

“Good morning,” Aaron says. His smile is a rare and lucrative sight; whenever he smiles at you like this, as though you’re some wonder he’s happened upon accidentally, it betters your whole day. 

“Good morning, Jack,” you say, a gentle prompt to see what mood he’s in. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi, buddy. You got your reading diary filled out?” you ask. 

“Yeah. Me and dad read Marlo again, I hope that’s okay.” 

You bend just a bit to be smaller, “You can read anything you want to.” 

“Dad says so too.” 

You and Aaron share a look. “Dad’s always right, huh?”

Jack nods emphatically. Aaron edges a half step closer to you, looking as though his hand is itching where he’s tucked it in his coat pocket. There’s something in it, you realise. He pulls it out and offers it to you covertly. 

“You left this behind,” he says. 

It’s one of your bracelets. You open your palm and let him tip the bracelet into your hand, curling your fingers closed, but not before the brush of his thumb has made you miss it against your cheek. 

“Oh, wow, I assumed I lost it.”

“No… it must have fallen down between my bed and the nightstand.”

You glance around, not as covert as you wish you were. It’s not that you and Aaron can’t date, but you perhaps shouldn’t, and besides that things are so new between you that it isn’t anyone else’s business either way. Plus, you have Jack to think about. He doesn’t know you’re seeing his father yet. 

You smile gratefully and tuck the bracelet into your pocket. “Thank you.” 

“Jack!” a blonde little girl called Sadie races up to you all and smiles wide. “Do you want to come and play with me? I want to try cartwheels before we go in.” 

Jack looks up at Aaron, who nods and leans down. He kisses his unwrinkled forehead. “I should be going soon. Be good today, okay?” 

Jack says his love yous as he jogs away with Sadie, his lunchbox forgotten in Aaron’s hands. “Want me to take it?” you ask. 

“Oh, yes. Please, honey, if you don’t mind.” 

Again, his hand brushes yours as he hands it over, his skin a reminder that he’s touched you now, and kindly, gentle fingertips trailing down your back as you dozed with your face against his chest. He’s so… perfect, in a way, such a caring person, you’ve never felt like this about someone. His proximity makes you wish you could go home with him now or follow him to work. It’s an achy feeling without being sore. 

“I never mind.” You watch him carefully as you talk, “It’s nice to get to see you every morning.” 

“It would be even nicer if we could’ve had the whole morning together,” he says agreeably, fondly. “Did you check your calendar for me? How are things looking next weekend?” 

“Very open for nice men who bring me jewellery.” 

“Don’t start,” he says quietly, his hand twitching toward yours, “or I’ll blow our cover.” 

“I wish you could.” 

“Me too, honey. I’m going to talk with Jack about it again this weekend.” He beams. “I wonder if he’ll change his tune this time.” 

When Aaron brought up the idea of you and him together to Jack, it had been as a simple hypothetical: How would you feel if me and Miss L/N wanted to be friends, Jack? 

He was ecstatic. Then we can see her all the time! he’d said. Aaron’s next port of call is to introduce the g-word. 

You and Aaron meet eyes, looking at one another, his hand creeping closer and closer to your side. He takes the end of your cardigan into his hand and feels it between his fingers, the slight touch, slightest movement of the fabric against your shoulder sending a shudder down your arms and chest. 

“Can I see you tonight?” he asks. 

“You aren’t busy?” you ask, surprised.

“Of course I am, I always am. But I think I have to see you.” 

Oh, you have to, you could tease. But you really need to see him too. “Just text me when you want me and I’ll be there,” you say, looking away from him toward the children and their racing. 

You’re glad you aren’t looking at him when he next speaks. “I always want you, but I have to go. Have a good day, honey, alright?”  

Jack’s lunchbox creaks in your hand. A funny soft kiss would be nice here, his smile pressed to yours. Maybe one day you’ll get one out in the open. “Thank you. Have a good day, too, Aaron,” you say, only looking up at him when you’re sure he’s crossed the school grounds to the parking lot. 

He looks back over his shoulder to you twice. 

[moonlight-alexia]

the questioning hour | steph, tiny & kyra

steph catley x catley!reader x kyra cooney-cross | if you want more for any of my universe pairings etc then keep requesting questions to ask them <3 hope you like it <3

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

What's your biggest fear of the relationship?

Steph: the two pests being together? Is that not concerning for anyone else?

Tiny: aw stephy loves us 

Steph: I never said that

Kyra: we know the truth stephy

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Who is more affectionate?

Tiny: Kyra easily 

Steph: You don’t even need eyes to see that Kyra is so clingy, needy, affectionate

Kyra: hey!

Tiny: it’s not a bad thing. I like my cuddly, clingy ky

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Most likely to get lost?

Steph: kyra and tiny obviously

Tiny: um steph

Kyra: psa don’t let steph direct if you actually want to get somewhere. She might seem like she has it all together but she can’t direct to save her life

Tiny: when we were in aus she had us drive 2 hours the wrong way before realising. Thought we were gonna have to sleep in the car 

Kyra: almost stranded in the middle of nowhere because of steph. Almost didn’t make it back here aliveeee

Steph: you’re so dramatic

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Most likely to get arrested?

Steph: welllll…

Tiny: shut it steph

Kyra: we technically weren’t arrested…

Tiny: just a warning 

Steph: I still had to come get you both

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

[Kyra to Steph] What's the most challenging part of our relationship for you?

Steph: realising my little baby sister isn’t so little anymore she’ll always be that tiny five year old who used to throw the football at me and storm inside because i ‘won’ too many times

Steph: no but honestly? You’re both young, new to serious relationships and I didn’t want to see you hurt each other. Care about you both a lot, but you make each other happy so I can’t complain

Tiny: Ky! Steph admitting to caring about us and not hating our relationship?

Kyra: this is on camera right? Need to keep evidence that this happened

Steph: you see what I have to deal with

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

[Steph to Tiny] What do you secretly wish I understood better about you?

Kyra: oh getting deep here

Steph: shut up Kyra

Tiny: well, maybe that I’m more than just your little sister. Like being seen as my own person. I love having your guidance and all but I want to make the same silly mistakes you did, learn from doing things and not just because you did it. Let me make mistakes but still be there to catch me when I fall

Steph: I’m so proud of who you’re becoming and I will do better for you. You’re my sister and I will always be there to catch you and hold you when you need it

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

[Steph to Tiny] What's something that you need from me that you're afraid to ask for?

Tiny: well I was afraid to ask you to not hate Kyra after you found out

Steph: I didn’t hate Kyra

Tiny: eh, could’ve fooled me

Steph: maybe I overreacted a little

Tiny: a little? understatement of the year

Kyra: she doesn't hate me now so that's a...win...yes?

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

[Tiny to Steph] What's your first memory of me?

Steph: you were like the size of a peanut-

Kyra: so nothing has changed then

Tiny: hey! I’m like several peanuts tall now!

Steph: -you were small and kind of weird looking

Tiny: but…

Steph: no, that’s it. Small and weird looking

[navybrat817]

Wish, Hope, Dream

Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You thought a night would be long enough to clear your head, but a bit of doubt lingers in your mind. Word Count: Over 2.6k Warnings: Slight angst, insecurities, longing, Natasha and Sharon being both good friends and devil's advocates, ongoing AU, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) Previous Part of AU: We Don't Talk Anymore A/N: More Dreamboat and Butterfly from my Reconnect AU! Sorry again in advance, lovelies. ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You thought having answers would give you peace and allow you to rest before facing Bucky in the morning. Oh, how wrong you were. The tussle between your mind and heart didn’t stop, giving you one of the worst nights of sleep that you could remember in a long time. At least your pillow had dried from your tears.

And what was it that you were crying for? Relief that Bucky had feelings for you or were you mourning the lost time you could’ve had together had you two talked sooner? Perhaps both.

“Just get up,” you mumbled, willing yourself to get out of bed and lay out a random sundress to wear.

You wondered if anyone else was awake as you showered and brushed your teeth. Guilt crept in for skipping out on game night. Whatever transpired between you and Bucky, you couldn't let any of those feelings bleed into the rest of the time with your friends. You had to suck it up no matter the outcome.

Glancing down the hall as you left your room, your gaze lingered on Bucky’s door before your footsteps moved in that direction. You raised your hand to knock, wanting to check on him and make sure he got enough sleep. Part of you was tempted to sneak in and crawl into bed with him. Not even completely for sex, which you did not need to think about, but to have him hold you close and assure you that everything would be okay.

And to stop torturing yourself.

But you let your hand fall. You didn't want to assume that he wanted to see you first thing upon waking up. Assumptions and not communicating were what led you on this path to begin with. But you didn't want to smother him.

We can still figure it out together.

You crept downstairs, spotting a few empty bottles from the night before. The main floor was dark, minus the sunlight coming in through the windows and the kitchen. You stayed quiet when you saw Natasha and Sharon huddled together in a hushed conversation by the counter.

Which stopped the moment you walked into the room.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that they were talking about you. Not with the concerned look in Sharon’s eyes. Natasha, on the other hand, stared back at you in contemplation. At least it wasn't pity. You couldn't take that.

Did Bucky tell them? Or did they figure it out?

“Hey. Sorry for skipping game night,” you said, shifting on your feet as your gaze flickered between them. “Guess Steve and Sam aren't up yet?” You asked, purposely not mentioning Bucky.

“Don’t need to apologize,” Sharon said, concern continuing to show in her eyes. “I think they’re getting a run in.”

“Oh. Gotcha,” you said. Looking between them again, you hoped things wouldn't be this awkward for the rest of the week. “Am I interrupting? I can just grab breakfast when you two are done.”

“Not interrupting. Go sit in the living room,” Natasha urged, nodding toward the direction of the couch. “Look like you could use a pick-me-up.”

“Smoothie?” You guessed, glancing around at the array of fruit ready for blending.

“Oh, yeah. Better than coffee,” the redhead teased as she threw a few pieces into the blender with some ice, bringing a small smile to your face as you went back to the living room. She was a good friend.

All of them were.

“You okay?” Sharon asked, sitting beside you on the couch.

You hesitated for a moment. You adored them and always would. But when it came to Bucky, you feared everyone would always side with him over you. Your chest tightened at the thought that if things went south you’d get left behind.

And hadn't you been left behind once before?

“Yes and no,” you answered, not wanting to expand completely yet as Natasha walked in and handed you a glass, your hands gripping it tight. They didn't need to deal with your issues, did they? “Did Bucky talk to everyone? I’m guessing he said something since you two are looking at me like I'm going to break.”

“We don’t think you’re going to break, but you look on edge,” Natasha answered, taking a seat when you didn't disagree. “The guys talked to him a little bit. He wouldn't give them all the details, but we know you two had a long overdue chat.”

“And the way you bolted upstairs last night and how he looked like a kicked puppy, we guessed it didn't go well,” Sharon added, raising an eyebrow. “I think Nat wanted to kick his ass.”

“He looked like he kicked his own ass. Would've just been rubbing salt in an open wound if I did anything else,” she said with no trace of humor. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It may help,” Sharon said.

Maybe.

With a deep breath, you told the girls what had happened. How you and Bucky admitted that you had feelings for each other, which neither of them appeared surprised by in the least, but that you walked away from him once the talk was over. How you wished you would’ve given him a chance then and there, but didn’t. It helped and hurt to tell them about it.

You hung your head by the time you finished, your throat tight. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, swallowing a little. “This is supposed to be a fun trip and I’m messing it up with my issues.”

Sharon rubbed your back as you took a sip of your smoothie. “Hey. You’re our friend. You didn't do anything wrong or mess anything up, okay? We all love Bucky, but he's an idiot.”

“Huge idiot. Don't know what you see in him,” Natasha winked as you scoffed. You would always try to see the good in him, even when you were upset. “But I have to say, I’m glad you two finally told each other how you feel.”

“Took you long enough,” the blonde teased halfheartedly. “Kind of hoped you would've said something before we showed up.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. The gang ran late to the beach house on purpose. Of course, they did. The girls were perceptive. Always had been. “So, you knew.”

“Everyone knew, except for the two of you. What’s that trope?” Natasha questioned, her gaze directed at Sharon. “Idiots in love?”

“Oh, yeah,” she smiled. “You two are a walking romance novel, torturing yourselves for no good reason.”

“So, I'm an idiot then?” you said, narrowing your eyes when they both opened their mouths. “You know what? Don’t answer that.”

You beat yourself up enough.

“Like I said, I’m glad you told him and now you finally have confirmation that he feels the same way,” Natasha said, cocking an eyebrow. “What's the problem then?”

“What do you mean?” You replied.

“You said you took the night to think, but you don't exactly look like you're ready to move forward.”

“Because I don't know if I am,” you admitted.

You were overthinking the situation. You wanted to be with Bucky, but some of your wall was still up and you didn't know how to tear the rest of it down. Why was it so hard?

“Look, I'm not excusing what Bucky did because he's an idiot for going out with Dot instead of talking to you, but you know how he feels now,” Natasha began, diplomatic and level-headed like always. “Do you plan to keep him at a distance as a way to protect yourself? Or are you maybe punishing him just a little bit for seemingly abandoning you?”

Leave it to her to ask the tough questions.

“I'm not trying to punish him,” you promised. Both of you had punished yourselves enough. “I just don't want him to hurt me. I mean, I spent two years thinking he'd never want me, but he just didn't want to fight for me,” you said, tears brimming your eyes.

“Or maybe he thought he never stood a chance and settled,” Sharon said. “Which, again, he’s an idiot. Most guys are.”

“So, what are you saying? That I should just pretend the last two years didn't happen?” You asked.

“No,” they said in sync.

You huffed. Why were girls both direct and cryptic? “Then what are you saying?”

Natasha grabbed a tissue and handed it over when a tear slid down your cheek. “We’re saying that we think Bucky is genuinely sorry for his stupid assumption and wants you to be his girl. Start slow if you have to and set the ground rules. If it means him apologizing every day with his words and actions, he will. And we know if you gave him your heart, it would be the last thing he'd break. Don’t you owe it to yourself to be happy?”

“Yeah. Maybe just start with a date,” Sharon said, tilting her head when you didn’t say anything. They were only trying to help, but why did it feel like pressure of sorts? Did they fully understand your apprehension? “You really don't see how he looks at you, do you?”

“Why would I when I convinced myself he'd never want me?” You whispered.

Bucky had convinced himself of the same thing. Maybe the two of you were idiots. How long would you continue to torture yourself? They had a point. Why not start with one date and see where it led?

What would be the harm in that, besides risking your whole heart?

“Well, we see how he looks at you,” Sharon said, her eyebrows shooting up. “Wait. I have it.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes. “Have what?” She asked. You wondered the same thing.

The front door opened before you got your answer, your heart skipping a beat when Bucky stopped in the doorway with a beach bag in hand. You realized after a moment that he was still in the same clothes he wore the day before, his eyes bloodshot as he looked your way. His hair was disheveled, too. He didn’t look like he slept well, if at all.

It broke your heart.

“Hey, Butterfly,” he croaked when you got to your feet, clearing his throat with a tired smile. “You look beautiful.”

“It’s just a sundress, Dreamboat,” you said, the compliment making your stomach flip before you took a step toward him. “Are you okay?”

His eyes lit up. “You’re still calling me that?”

“Of course, I am.” you smiled softly. He’d always be your Dreamboat. “Did you get any sleep?” You added, sighing when he confirmed your suspicion with a shake of his head. Had you been on his mind? “Why not?”

He gripped the bag handle like a lifeline. “I needed to find a way to say I’m sorry. Tried writing a letter and it wasn't enough.”

Your heart swelled, glancing back at the girls as they both gave you an encouraging smile. “Look. Before you do anything, why don’t you take a nap?” You suggested. “It’s still early and I’m not going anywhere.”

“A nap sounds like a good idea before volleyball,” Natasha said, leveling Bucky with a look. “In fact, why don’t you get him to bed?”

“Nat,” you hissed. Of course, she’d suggest you take him upstairs.

“Yeah, we’ll catch up with you two in a bit,” Sharon said.

The hopeful look in Bucky’s eyes was irresistible. “Come on,” you said, taking his arm once he kicked his shoes off. You felt his gaze on you as you took him up the stairs. It amazed you that he didn’t trip over his own feet since he kept his eyes on you. “I can tell you’re staring at me.”

“I half expected you to be gone this morning,” he said, opening his door. “I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

Your stomach dropped. “You think I’d bolt after the conversation we had?” You asked. Did he think little of you now?

He chuckled under his breath. “I said half expected,” he teased.

Instead of releasing your arm, he pulled you into his room before you could protest. It wasn’t a good idea to be there, yet there you were. Not fighting it as he pulled you toward the bed.

His large, inviting bed.

“So, what’s in the bag?” You asked curiously to distract yourself as he set it down and stretched out on the bed, pulling you down with him. He gave you plenty of room so you wouldn’t have to cuddle close. He also left the door cracked open.

He was giving you an out.

“I can’t show you yet because I have to put it together,” he yawned, giving you an apologetic smile. “It’ll spoil the surprise otherwise.”

A giddy smile appeared on your face. He was actually going to make you something. “I’ll be patient,” you said, letting him keep your hand in his.

“Haven’t we been patient long enough?” He asked, his hair falling in his eyes as he gazed at you. Even exhausted, he was breathtaking. “I know you needed the night to think it over.”

The smile fell from your face, silence stretching in the room before you squeezed his hand. “Bucky, you need to get some sleep.”

He couldn’t mask the dejected look on his face. It wasn’t an outright rejection, but you hadn’t exactly declared that you should move forward. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said, his voice thick. “All I could see were the tears in your eyes and knowing I caused them.”

“It’s okay,” you told him. It was an assurance for yourself, too. You were okay and he hadn't tried to hurt you.

“It’s not okay,” he argued, the familiar determination back in his eyes. “And I don’t want to sleep. I want to make you smile. I want to win you a stuffed animal at the carnival.”

“You promised me that at dinner yesterday,” you teased.

“I want to take you dancing,” he added, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

You could easily picture him smiling as he twirled you around and moved to the beat. Maybe that could be your first actual date. “As long as you don’t step on my feet.”

“I want to take you to bed,” he whispered,

You inhaled, your heart pounding at the implication. “Bucky…”

“I want to hear about your day. The little things, even the details that you think are mundane,” he said, scooting a bit closer. “I want to be the one you talk to and depend on again.”

Each declaration worked its way into your heart. Why couldn’t you just take the leap of faith? “We can’t just-”

“I want you to be my girl,” he said, his face inches from yours. “I want to give you everything.”

Your heart screamed at you to comfort him, kiss him, to tell him the same. “Bucky, you’re not giving me anything until you get some sleep,” you whispered, resting a hand on his cheek. He needed rest. “Please, for me?”

“I’m afraid if I close my eyes, I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone,” he whispered, fighting to keep his eyes open. “I can't lose you again.”

You didn't want to lose him either. “You won't lose me because I’m not going anywhere. I said we’d figure this out together and I meant that,” you promised, needing to give him hope. “Close your eyes. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He finally shut them as he breathed out, “Butterfly, I lo…”

You gasped as Bucky trailed off, smiling to yourself as your eyes misted over. You weren’t going to run. Not from him. Not when you owed it to yourself to be happy.

You told yourself that as his phone rang.

Even as Dot’s name showed on the screen.

It's fine, lovelies! 😭 Things will look up. Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[wikiangela]

wanna end all my days with talking to you

rating: G words: 1.8k

[also on Ao3]

Buck’s about to get in the engine with his team to ride back to the station, change, and get home to hopefully pass out for the next ten hours – when he thinks he hears a familiar voice among the usual noise of the scene, chatter, yelling, trucks slowly starting to drive away. He stops with one leg on the step and looks around. 

“Evan!” He hears again, this time more clearly, and feels the heavy knot in his chest that’s been there the whole day unfold, a wave of relief and calm crashing over him as he sees the face to match the voice. Tommy walks from the crowd, and maybe Buck’s really tired, but he swears his boyfriend glows among everyone else, getting his attention right away. He’s in his turnouts, hair tousled, a worried look on his face mixed with relief. He’s such a sight for sore eyes, Buck wants to drown in his arms right now. “Hey,” Tommy adds as he gets closer, eyes roaming over Buck’s body. “Just wanted to catch you before you left. You okay?” He asks, and Buck finally turns around, both legs back on the ground. 

“Hi, Tommy!” He hears Chimney say as he passes them to get on the truck, before Buck can even open his mouth.

“Hey, Howie.” Tommy responds, eyes not leaving Buck. Chim disappears, taking his place with Eddie and Hen who are already waiting inside, ready to leave. Buck thinks they can spare a couple minutes, though.

“Tommy.” Buck whispers, taking a step towards his boyfriend. Tommy’s hands immediately reach for him. “What are you doing here? I thought this was your day off?” He asks, arms wrapping around Tommy’s waist, not caring that they’re technically still at work. He’s had a day, he almost killed his current Captain, they almost lost Athena, he was almost run over by multiple cars- it’s been a day. 

“Got called in. I don’t know if you heard but we had a pretty wild all-hands-on-deck situation on the freeway.” He says with a teasing smirk, hands settling on Buck’s waist. Their warmth is so nice and grounding, and Buck leans a little further into him. 

“Hm, it rings a bell. A plane landing, right?” He continues, feeling a little silly and a lot giddy, like any time he’s with Tommy. He just makes him feel so carefree, even after a stressful day like today, before even having time to decompress. 

“Yeah, that one. Crazy, right? I hear my boyfriend was very involved. Had to see it with my own eyes. And make sure he’s alright.” His eyes scan over Buck’s face. “You alright?”

“I’m fine, baby.” Buck smiles pulling Tommy a little closer to himself. “Are you?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. I wasn’t the one right here at the forefront of everything.” Tommy raises an eyebrow, one of his hands coming up to cup Buck’s face. He leans into the touch, not able to keep in a content sigh. All he can think about is getting home, cuddling up next to Tommy in bed, and soaking up his warmth as he falls asleep. 

“How did you know I was? It could’ve been anyone from any station.” Buck says, since it wasn’t public knowledge who exactly was flying the plane, but they both know the answer.

“Who else but the 118 would have this much bad luck.” He shakes his head, and his tone goes for joking, but it does crack a little, worry seeping through. 

“Technically, it was Athena. Again.” Buck points out, silently begging the universe to please let Bobby and Athena have a break now, after the cruiseship and now this, they really deserve to rest and not worry about each other’s lives. “We just came to help.” 

“You were still heavily involved, weren’t you?” Tommy asks and Buck nods. “So, my point stands.”

“Bobby and I stole a truck.” Buck blurts out. He knows now is not the time, but he just wants to tell Tommy every single thing that happened, and every single thought in his head. 

“You what?” Tommy eyebrows shoot up.

“Well, we borrowed it- Actually I have a lot to tell you. It’s been a crazy day. Even before all this,” he gestures towards the plane. Tommy frowns, curiosity etched in his face. 

“I can’t wait to hear all about it.” He says with a smile, and then from a distance they vaguely hear someone call his last name. Tommy glances back towards the 217 trucks, probably waiting on him now. Before he can say that he has to go, though, Buck speaks up again.

“Oh, and I rode a motorcycle!” He says excitedly and grins, and sees Tommy’s expression turn into something fond but still confused, probably wondering how it all connects, and maybe where Buck got a motorcycle in the first place. Buck can’t wait to tell him everything that happened today. He’s avoiding mentioning this morning, back at the station, leaving it for later, he doesn’t want to bring it up, bring him up just yet. Not when they’re all still on the high from the airplane landing being very successful, considering their chances. Unpleasant stuff – like Buck’s guilt and confusion about what his intent was – can wait for later, when they’re home, and they have time for him to spiral and confide in his man.

“You’re so adorable.” Tommy just says, and glances to the sides for a second, before leaning in to chastely press his lips against Buck’s, and it’s over way too quickly, Buck pulling him back in, deepening the kiss. He feels Tommy smile and then he’s kissing him just as eagerly. Before he knows it, he’s being pressed against the cold metal of the engine behind him, his boyfriend’s big, warm body right against his, and for a few seconds they just get lost in each other. What pulls him out is his team – some teasing cheers and whooping and even whistling, and a couple joking comments about being inappropriate in the workplace (he thinks it’s Chim who said that, but it’s all a blur – besides, technically they’re on the freeway, so, not really the workplace, so Buck will kiss his boyfriend if he wants to). 

He hears himself whining in protest when Tommy starts pulling away, and gets a chuckle in response that he feels in his own chest. 

“I’m sorry, but I gotta go now. My team’s waiting.” Tommy sounds regretful, at least. Buck still pouts. But now he can hear Tommy’s co-workers yell his name, and some barely audible jokes and teasing, likely having seen them make out. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” Tommy asks, thumb caressing Buck’s cheekbone. Buck doesn’t want to let him go. He wants to continue their making out, and he wants to talk to Tommy, tell him all about his crazy day, and of course he wants to hear about Tommy’s day, what he was doing before he got called in, and everything that happened after, too. Lately those conversations have become some of Buck’s favorites. He loves talking to Tommy, he loves that he always listens, so attentive and engaged, and visibly enjoying Buck’s rambling. And he loves listening to Tommy, too, his gorgeous voice, and those dry jokes Buck fell in love with that first night they met. They could talk about anything, their days, the weather, some deep personal stuff, Buck loves it all. 

“Tonight.” He decides, not sure if he can handle not seeing Tommy as soon as possible. He knows it’s late, and after the day they had, they’re both probably ready to get in bed and crash, but he just doesn’t want to be without Tommy right now. It sounds silly even just in his own head, but he misses him so much every second they’re apart. He guesses it’s that honeymoon period, but maybe it’s also the fact that in the short time they’ve been dating, Tommy has become a safe space for him, a shoulder to lean on, always there, strong and sturdy, to support him whenever and however he needs. He hopes he’s the same for Tommy. He tries his best, at least. “I’ll get my stuff at the station and come over. If that’s okay?” He asks to make sure, just in case, a seed of doubt seeping in. He doesn't want to overstep or assume. But he should’ve known better, Tommy never says no to seeing him.

“Of course it’s okay.” He smiles, leaning back in for one more sweet kiss. “In the meantime, please don’t get into any more trouble tonight. Especially the life-or-death kind,” he half-jokes, and Buck kind of wants to remind him that it wasn’t his life that was in danger this time, but then again, it was Athena, which means Bobby, which means Buck and the entire 118 ready to follow them into any trouble. So, yeah, he gets Tommy’s worry.

“Can’t really promise that. Don’t wanna tempt the universe,” he shrugs. Tommy chuckles lightly. “But I’ll try.”

“Just get to me in one piece,” he shakes his head, taking a step away. It takes everything in Buck not to follow and squeeze himself into a 217 truck just to be with Tommy for a while more. But he’ll see him soon. Around an hour if they leave now. Maybe a little more with the traffic, the freeway being closed now probably causing some issues. But tonight.

“I will. I’ll see you soon.” He answers, and not for the first time the three little words he desperately wants to say try to force themselves onto his tongue. On one hand, there’s no time to waste, life is short, and especially with their profession, and his luck. But on the other hand, he doesn’t want them to come out like this, while he’s still buzzing with adrenaline, and it might be easy to think it’s a heat of the moment thing. He wants to say it in a quiet moment, at home, just the two of them, putting all the feelings and intention behind it, really letting Tommy know how serious and genuine he is about it. 

Tommy is his person. The one he wants to go home to at the end of the day – whether an uneventful one, or full of chaos and danger, like tonight. He’s the one Buck wants to talk to for hours and hours, about everything and nothing, spill his every thought. The one he wants to wake up to and fall asleep with. The one he wants to love for the rest of his life. 

He can’t stop smiling as he takes a second to watch as Tommy walks away, turns around to flash Buck one more adorable smile, before disappearing in the sea of people. Then, with a shout to hurry up from Eddie, Buck finally turns back to the truck and climbs in. He’s so ready for this day to be over. And what better way to end it than in the arms of his love, while telling him about his crazy day? They definitely need to hurry up and get back to the station, Buck has places to be. Or, one place specifically, the one he already secretly calls home. 

[also on Ao3]

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Which CE!babe is most likely to use concerts as a way to be a total creep and perv? Pressing up on unsuspecting women because “Sorry, it’s so packed in here!”

Meanwhile he’s packing something else for you 🍆

I know you expect me to choose someone like Curtis or even Colin, but I’m always down to make this man more pathetic than he already is, so here we go. 

Lost in the Crowd 

Warnings: noncon touching, age gap (reader in early 20s). I write dark fics so buckle up!

As always, please reblog and comment! It's appreciated.

“He didn’t text?” You shield your eyes as you look up at Andy from the porch swing. 

“Guess he forgot,” he sighs, his hands instinctively going to his hips. He’s always doing that. “Still, would’ve been nice to know. I could’ve sold the ticket.” He sucks his teeth and squints as he peers around. “Too bad because I really want to go.” 

“Yeah, I guess they needed the extra help,” you sit up and close the novel in your hand. You’ve given up on finish that paragraph. 

“This was all your dad’s idea,” he huffs. 

“I mean, you can still go,” you shrug. “I’ve been to a few shows on my own.” 

“Hm, yeah but it’s one of those outdoor festivals. Bit... intimidating.” 

You could laugh. Someone like Andy Barber thinking anything is intimidating is cute. You would say that he’s intimidating on his own. He’s not even your dad and yet you feel like you need to earn his approval. 

“Well, anyone else you know who might bite?” You ask. 

“Five minutes before I head out, probably not,” he clucks. “Oh well, I’ll eat the loss.” He turns on his heel and stops short. He pauses and turns back to you. “Um, unless... you don’t look very busy.” 

You look at the novel then at him. You guess you aren’t... But do you really wanna go to a festival packed with that demographic? Well, it’s a free ticket, that’s a pretty good deal. And yet, it’s with Andy. You’re surprised he even listens to music. He doesn’t radiate fun. 

“I’ll go if you buy me a drink. Those places always overcharge,” you barter. 

“Deal,” he accepts triumphantly. He checks his watch, “we can be late if you need time.” 

“Nah, I’ll just find some better shoes and my purse,” you get off the swing with the novel under your arm. “Be right back.” 

You go inside and grab your belt bag and switch out your slides for some sneaker with little embroidered flowers on them. You come out and lock the door. You stop and take your phone out. 

“I’ll let me dad know just in case,” you say. 

“Sure, I’ll wait in the car,” he replies. 

You stand on the porch and key into your dad. ‘Snagged your ticket to the concert. I’ll see you later.’ You send and tuck away your phone. It’s best you keep it hidden. Andy tends to make those little comments; what’s so interesting? I see you smile more at that thing than me. Those old man gripes. 

You get into the passenger seat and buckle up. The engines already humming as his impatient taps in fingertips. He stills his hands and grips the steering wheel. He shifts and backs out onto the street. You’re not super excited but who knows, you might be pleasantly surprised. 

🎤

“You probably won’t know these guys,” Andy says as he hands you a tall plastic cup of beer. “They were big when I was your age.” 

“Hey, I love classic rock. Did you see The Stones?” 

“I’m not that old,” he sniffs. “But I did go to one of their retirement tours.” 

“Of course you did,” you gulp down the hoppy beer and make a face. 

“They had vodka soda,” he suggests. 

“Nah, it’s fine. Beers better in the heat.” You walk along the grass and find a spot where you won’t be jostled by those looking for refreshments. You stand on your toes and peek up at the stage. “And I’ve heard of them. My dad loves to blast them on road trips.” 

“Hm, right,” he snorts. “I get it, I’m old.” 

You shrug and smirk. The sound check begins and the crowd grows restless. You find yourself nearly done the beer as you mindlessly watch the techs at work. 

“Another beer before it starts?” He offers. 

You look at him, “you not having any?” 

“Designated driver,” he says and offers to take your empty. 

“Alright, thanks, but uh, it’s not--” 

“It’s cool. I dragged you here,” he takes the cup and hurries off. 

You sway as you’re left on your own. Your eyes wander and meet another pair. A girl with sandy brown hair with bleached highlights smiles at you. 

“Like your hat,” you say as you’re caught gawking. 

“Oh, thanks! I made it.” 

“What? You made that?” You check out the straw weave. 

“Oh, sure, they have workshops downtown.” She grins, “you from around here?” 

“Yeah, unfortunately,” you kid. 

“You alone?” She wonders. 

“No, I’m here with er... a friend,” you explain. 

“Ah, cool, well, this is Lucas,” she points to the man in a sleeveless flannel next to her, “Wyla,” she points to the girl sipping on a sparkling cooler drink, “I’m Morgan.” 

You give your name, “nice to meet you. You like these guys?” 

She looks at the stage and makes a face, “we came for the opener early today but we don’t wanna go home yet,” she says. 

“Ah, makes sense,” you accept. 

“Hey,” Andy startles you as he steps up beside you, nudging you with his knuckles as he holds a fresh beer. 

“Oh, thanks, Andy,” you take it. 

“Making friends?” He asks. 

You look at Morgan and she side eyes him. She might be confused why he looks your dad’s age but definitely not like he’s your dad. Maybe a stepdad or uncle. You see the verdict in her eyes; you’re lame. 

“Well, enjoy the show,” she says and turns back around. 

“She’s friendly,” Andy comments. 

“Uh yeah,” you agree, “I guess.” 

You sip the beer and the first drum beat hits. The band builds to their first song and get into their set. You bounce to the vaguely familiar rhythm. The crowd starts to close in, pressing tighter and tighter as they seek out a better vantage. 

You find yourself swept up and you stumble just a little. You’re caught by your hip and glance back as Andy gives a strained smile. “Don’t wanna get separated,” he hollers. 

You nod and face the stage again. Honestly, that would be a nightmare. There’s a lot more people here than you expect. 

You move out of an oblivious fan’s way and end up in front of Andy. His hand is still on your hip. You’re overly aware of his touch but don’t think much of it. The lead singer welcomes the crowd and starts the second song; their biggest hit. Even you know it. 

You get into it, bobbing without thinking. As you do, Andy’s other hand settles on your other hip. You wriggle, hoping he’ll let go. He doesn’t. 

The heat builds around you with the crowd. Andy steps closer. You can’t focus on the music or the stage. The air is stolid as you’re penned in from all sides. 

He’s right against you. You still yourself as you feel yourself brush against his front. He keeps moving. What is he doing? 

You squirm as he grinds his pelvis into you. You nearly drop your beer, instead squeezing the plastic cup so it dents. You slosh some over the lip and he loops his arms around you. You gasp and grab his wrist. 

“Andy!” You shout, mortified. 

He holds you against him, rocking you with him as the rigidness in his jeans pokes you. You yipe slap his arm. He’s too strong. What the hell? 

“It’s okay, baby,” he speaks right behind your ear so you can hear him. “I won’t tell dad.”