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#aka just keeping silent and sticking to book keeping
iintervallum · 9 months
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sketch of beau because I miss her
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sakuraryomen01 · 9 months
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Valentino /Sukuna Ryomen x Reader/ .o8
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warnings: asshole sukuna, college prep. school (aka bitch u at an expensive ass school), former friends to lovers, slow burned love, yuji is sukuna's little brother, some light teasing, more tutoring sessions, and Sukuna punches a pervert!
reader: female reader; 23 years of age, college prep.
plot: It's been years since you've moved from country life, since you've forgotten about all the things you used to love about your hometown and where you grew up from... you didn't think it'd chase you to college in the city after almost a decade..
words: 1.125k
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fanfic masterlist: .o1 .o2 .o3 .o4 .o5 .o6 .o7 .o8 .o9 .10 .11 .12 .13 .14 .15 .16 .17 .18 .19 .20
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a/n:: I've felt mentally drained so I'm going to finish this dang chapter holy frick did this take so long :D
. . .
Thank you for reading this bit! Enjoy! ❤️
. . .
Sleep didn't come easy to you, and it was expected. Seeing Sukuna in his vulnerable state, having him confirm a small doubt in your mind, and having Shoko spur on your aching heart.
It was a hard pill to swallow, but you needed to force it. You can't force someone to love you back.
Sukuna had his reasons, and it didn’t concern you in the slightest. You told yourself that as much as possible when you felt the need to say something to him after lessons and classes, or do simple things like ask about his day. When you wanted to ask, you bit your tongue and stayed silent. Sticking to the normal day to day chit chat between classmates.
Don’t bug him more than you already do. You say to yourself as you lift your fist up and knock on the door a few times.
There was a quiet "enter" from his side of the door, and when you did as told you didn't see Sukuna in the living room or kitchen like normal.
"Sukuna?" You asked, confusion filling your brain. You continued to wander around the dorm until Sukuna's bedroom door opened up, revealing a disheveled man.
His hair a mess, t-shirt lopsided and somewhat dirty, and boxers on full display. You quickly averted your eyes, trying to save Sukuna his dignity. "Hello to you too."
He waved before heading into his bedroom to change and look cleaner. Moving yourself to your usual space on the couch, you pulled out your things and started flipping through a notebook.
There was almost no noise, besides the random grunts of Sukuna shuffling through his things. Even your thoughts going quiet and jumbled with the notes in your book. Writing things down and not noting the shadow being cast over you by Sukuna.
"Hey, what're you working so hard on?" His voice broke your train of thought, making you look up at him.
"Uhm, tutoring?" You responded, a questioning tone in your voice. "Why?"
Sukuna sighed, resting his cheek against his fist, maroon eyes scanning your figure. "Don't you wanna have fun instead?"
The question catches you off guard and you chuckle, patting his knee in an almost loving manner. "I don't think you should have fun until you get better grades."
"God, you sound like my mother!"
You crinkle your nose as Sukuna's rather modest laughter fills the air. It had been a while since you saw a smile.
With a sigh, you straightened your posture and started to the session, seeing Sukuna's eyes begin to glaze over in a bored pout. You didn't like doing much studying either, but keeping your grades up mattered to you.
Sukuna knew this, watching you diligently work with him to help. So determined..
——
"..How are your parents?" He asked, his eyes lazily looking towards you.
It had been an hour since the tutoring had started that day, and Sukuna's mind was elsewhere. It was dull, the schedule he has wrapped himself into. It was the same thing everyday, seeing the hundreds of students around campus and ending up stuck in his dorm with you.
Talking about equations and random stuff he was already familiar with became tedious. Even though he was willing just to see you.
Never say that out loud though.
"Oh, they're fine," You answered, a slightly confused look on your face as you tapped the cap of your red pen on the notebook.
Sukuna raised a brow, scooting himself closer into your space, a small smile on his face. "That's not specific enough. I wanna know how they're doing."
I just told you– "Well, my dad's working on some project for the house apparently. He wanted to make a garden for it."
"Your dad's still the plant guy, huh?"
You pout your lips as Sukuna's curled into a smirk. "Not always. He got into sports cars for some reason, even though he's a planet health guy."
Sukuna chuckles at this before starting to write a few things down in his notebook. You grumble with a slightly warm flush filling your cheeks. Either way, you couldn't really complain much, his smirk made you feel warm inside.
"Are you done with the questions I gave you?" You asked, leaning your head over and bumping your cheek against Sukuna's shoulder.
"Yeah, the last one stumps me though.."
After teasing him for a few moments about his blunders and getting side eyed for the next twenty minutes, you eventually were able to explain the problem before Sukuna pointing out how late it had gotten.
"I could order a pizza and you just sleep over again." He said as he put away his things, placing a hand on his hip. "It'd be best, this dorm is filled with shit drunk guys."
"Aw, you're so sweet," You responded, lifting your bag over your shoulder strap while hiding all the giddy cuteness inside you. "But it's just a five minute walk to my place. I'll be fine!"
There was a hostile look of discontent in his maroon eyes that read: How dare you say no to me?
A confused shiver was sent down your spine before you sighed and pat Sukuna's arm, heading towards the door. "I'll text you when I get home, promise."
Letting out a small grunt, Sukuna eventually caved and you went home. Although he did threaten that he'll give you a stern talking to if he didn't get a text.
He's got more layers than an onion.*
Though, as you made your way home, you bumped into someone. His hair was messy, sunglasses barely hanging onto his head with his hair pushed back, and pants dirtier than your crustiest sock. But his pink cheeks and glossy eyes didn't betray you in recognizing one of your weirdest friends to date.
"Satoru? What are you doing out?" You place a hand on the males exposed forehead and humming to yourself. "..Are you high, drunk, or sick?"
With a delayed reaction, a hiccup, and a pout, you got this. "My girl, you're judgy so muchy~ Let me life without demands!"
You raise a brow and scoff. I know he'll regret this drinking in the future.
"Fine, but I have to go home now," You say, patting the disheveled mans shoulder, a smile on your face. "Don't trip walking up those stairs!"
But as you said goodbye, Gojo leaned in and placed a soft peck on your cheek with surprising accuracy. You blink in confusion as Gojo smiles loosely and pets your head. "Don't hurt yourself either, Miss best friend chaser!"
Before words could process, or a thought was able to work the cogs in your headspace, there was a grunt and a very big "someone's jaw might have gotten broken" sound.
. . .
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a/n: hope you guys have been doing well! srry i haven't posted in almost two months maybe really, so many things came up. I was worried about mental health for a while, wasn't feeling motivated to write much but then smthing else happened. Huge changes are happening so we might end up with another writer's drought lmao (I'm going to college soon and do adult things ⊙⁠﹏⁠⊙;;;)
*and if u didnt get the reference I'll scream*
Chapter Song Theme:
— Ariana Grande - God is a woman (Lyric Video)
taglist: @mageyboo, @mzladyd , @mysticwonderlandangel, @sukunaspersonalfleshlight, @kawaiipenguin20, @k-indie, @okkotsufav, @cafeinthemoon93, @pulchritxde, @bontenbunny, @deepinballs, @kleeboomed, @fallenfeversstuff, @fiierytearzx, @wo-ming-bai, @ririkaxbz, @instantgalaxysheep, @watyousayin, @z3r0art, @sukunaobsessed, @lik0, @sukunasfirstlove, @princesstiti14, @nemoyr, @ladywolf44005, @cat-mak20, @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn, @hxlalokidottir, @instantgalaxysheep, @domainofmarie, @the-moongoddess, @dark-n-dirty-duchess, @agentdedf1sh, @sukunastoy, @lyn-soso, @bao-yu-sarah-morningstar-wang-9, @heyitstacy, @lost-in-tokyo, @marksassybanana, @bozos-r-us, @gumis-girl, @p-3-4-c-h, @chaoticqueen33, @dxxny-loves-u, @l0tus-n-l0ve, @jiordeci
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hi normie!!! I loved the famous reader hc you made!!! And since you’re posting about 2012! Turtles with a baby sibling I have a scenario!
The turtles with their little (fem) sibling on her first patrol night! After training for a couple years splinter finally agreed to let her go out on patrol with her older brothers thanks!
THIS IS GONNA BE SO WHOLESOME-
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ONE FOR THE ~~~~~BOOKS~~~~~
◇~~◇~~◇~~◇~~◇
Summary: It's your first time going on a patrol with your brothers, and just some wholesome family memories.
Warnings: Mild depictions of violence (Aka some muggers gettin their butts beat.)
Requested: @urfavarab
Female Reader!
....................................
You excitedly equipted your gear, sheathing your Kabutowari before rushing out of your room.
You entered the main room and your brothers stood from the couch to greet you. "Ready to go, (Name)? Everything's on right?" Donnie asked, checking you gear.
You nodded, smiling widely in excitment, "Yes, Donnie, it's fine. Can we go now?"
"Hold on," Leo said, leaving the room to grab something, he walked back in with a camera, holding it up with a smile, "Say cheese!"
You shook your head, giggling, "Cheese!"
The camera clicked, and Leo nodded happily. He handed the camera to Splinter as the old rat entered the room. Splinter took the device before walking up to you and placing a hand on your shoulder, "Now my daughter, I understand this is exciting, but you musn't lose focus. Leonardo is your leader, listen to him. Stay close to your brothers and stick to the shadows. Make sure your mask stays on, your identity is your most valuble possesion. Keep it. And finally, be careful." he removed his hand from your shoulder, motioning for you to follow your brothers out the door.
You spun around as you exited the Lair, yelling out over your shoulder, "Bye, Dad! Love you!"
"This is gonna be great."
Your brothers led you along their normal route, Leo spouting reminders and tips on actually being in the field. Mikey skidded to a stop, just ahead, silently signaling to the alley below.
In the alley stood a group of Purple Dragons harrassing a young looking couple. Leo began to make gestures with his hands, trying to signal his plan, rather than speak it.
You tilted your head in confusion, looking to Raph for a translation. Your red clad brother just shook his head and rubbed his temple, he then motioned for you to follow him into the alley.
The two of you landed silently in the alley, crouched just behind the Purple Dragons. Raph gave a sharp whistle, and the Dragons spun around. After their attention was no longer on the couple, you watched as they booked it from the alley.
You menacingly drew your kabutowari, still crouched low. The Dragons laughed, "Oooh, look fellas the turtle brought his precious baby sister. What are you gonna do, huh? there's two of you, and four of us. You don't have no-"
The Dragon stopped and you smirked, the four muggers turned to face your other three brothers.
"You were saying?" Leo said, katanas drawn and aimed at the enemy.
Three out of four Dragons had enough sense to be nervous, the fourth either had no sense of self preservation or he was just plain stupid, because he charged right towards you.
You side stepped his attack, bringing the handle of your kabutowari down on the back of his head, knocking him unconcious.
The other three sprung into action in retaliation, and a short scuffle insued that ended with the Dragons spread out along the concrete.
You exchanged a fist bump with Raph, one arm wrapped around Mikey's shoulder. Leo moved the group so that youbwere standing just infront of the unconcious Dragons, Donnie holding up his phone for a selfie.
"Everyone say pepperoni!"
You threw up a peice sign, "Pepperoni!"
Patrol lasted a few more hours after that, and ended with the five of you at Mr. Murakami's eating pizza gioza.
"You did good today, shorty." Raph said, nudging your shoulder with his own.
You shoved him back, laughing, "I'm almost as tall as you, Raph. Give it afew more inches, then we'll see who's short."
"Alright, c'mere smartass."
Raph pulled you into a choke hold, giving you a noogie.
You pulled out of the hold giggling while you tried to fix your hair, "Leooo, Raph messed up my hair."
"Leave her alone, Raph."
"I'll get him back for ya, (Name)!"
"Mikey put that water balloon away!"
....................................
I love writing the sibling stuff, mostly because I can embody the chaos me and my siblings cant create lol!
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van mccann x singer reader pls!
Masterlist
A/n I can only apologise for my severe issue with making promises I can’t keep ahahah. I don’t even know how long ago it was that I said I would write some stuff for Van and so many of you guys’ requests have been neglected in my inbox… BUT I had a couple of Van x singer reader requests so here it is, however I didn’t stick to that completely but I kinda love this so hope you enjoy anyway!!! Also kinda based on Hourglass because I lack all kinds of creativity lol. LOVE YA❤️‍🔥
Waste My Days
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“You’re strugglin’” his voice floated down the line, worry seeping into his words. You sighed into the silence of your hotel room, rolling over in bed, eyes flicking across the room to see the time on the clock. 2:36 am.
“I’m ok… it’s just been none stop for so long. I’m exhausted but I just can’t get any rest” Van waited, giving you time to talk, knowing this could be the most insight into your mind he’d been able to get for a long time.
“I love being on tour, I really do. Especially this one, this has been the best yet, I’m just…”
“Exhausted” he finished for you, sensing that you were struggling to find the words.
“You know it”
Boy, did he know it.
-
“How did you sleep?”
“God, I slept so good, the best I’ve slept in weeks Van, I’m telling you”
You heard his chuckle crackle down the line. “Dreaming about me again ay, babe?”
“Always”
-
“Y/n! Your phones ringing!”
Your head shot up, following the sound of the voice that shouted across the floor of the arena. Eyes wide, you sent a look to the sound technician, a silent plea to let you have just one minute. Once you saw him nod, mixed with a slightly annoyed shrug of his shoulders, you jumped down from the stage to find your phone.
“Van?”
“Hiya, darlin’. Was about to give up then, thought you weren’t gonna answer”
“Sorry, soundcheck.” You explained, listening to him drag on a fag in some city far away.
“Aye, me too, just finished. Sorry I interrupted”
“You’re never interrupting” you replied quickly, “I’ve been dying for you to call.”
-
You felt the peel of skin as Van lifted himself off of you, a rush of oxygen filling your lungs as he flopped down next to you into the damp sheets.
One week, one singular week where your tour schedules aligned. Van came to stay at yours, with no other plans than to eat, sleep and in Vans words, “love on you”.
You watched as Van reached over to the bedside table for his cigs, you couldn’t help but reach out to him, your finger tracing the shape of his ribs through his pale skin before you heard a clatter of books fall to the floor in Vans attempt to clear a space for the mug that now doubled as an ash tray.
“Oi, don’t be messing my place up!” You poked at the space between his ribs.
“Oi!” He squeaked in that classic Van McCann squeak, flinching, trying to escape your hands, holding the now burning cigarette high above your heads as he tackled you.
“Van, watch that!” Grasping his arm, already picturing the holes that he would burn in the sheets.
aka, the best week of wasting days together.
-
“Vaaaan” you sung down the line, “please hurry!!!!!”
“Alright, babe, alright. I’m coming!” He laughed,
“I know but we have a lot of catching up to do, you know” he could practically hear your smirk through the phone.
“Oh babe, so sordid” He teased, lowering his voice into a growl so the whole of Tesco’s wouldn’t hear him. “You’re the one who wanted wine!”
“All I really ever want is you, Van”
-
“Babe! Come ere’!”
Vans voice echoed through your bedroom over the sound of the shower.
Pushing on the en suite door, the bathroom flooded with light, revealing his face peeping round the edge of the fogged shower screen, hair wet and silently reaching an arm out for you. You smiled, keeping eye contact as you pulled his old tshirt over your head, quickly loosing your underwear and letting him pull you towards him.
Van twirled you round, pressing your back against his chest, arms tangled together across the front of your body under the water.
“I’ve been thinkin bout baby names” he whispered ,
“Oh yeah?” You laughed, classic Van you thought, “A bit premature, no? I’m not even pregnant”
Van moved to rest his cheek on the top of your head, pressing a kiss to your hair before untangling his arm from yours, watching as he reached out to write on the glass.
L, Y, L, A
“Like the Oasis song” he whispered.
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ctrl-alt-bucky · 6 months
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If The Winter Soldier was in Task force 141 — Headcannons
(Aka: can somebody teach these dramatic bitches some communication skills)
Be warned, this has a lot more words than I was aiming for (around ~739). Feel free to send me an ask if you want me to expand on certain scenarios, or send a prompt with these two and I might make a oneshot/drabble!
Contains a brief mention of SoapGhost. This version of Bucky is post Endgame. SFW.
♡ Headcannons below the cut ♡
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Nicky Fury, the therapist— and most importantly, the government— come to an agreement with the former Winter Soldier: with the Avengers fizzled out, the world needs heroes now more than ever. And so, finding an excuse to use Bucky's highly trained skills, they stick him in with Task 141, hoping the structure and team bonding will help aid his fractured mind, and hopefully dampen his grief in the process.
Ghost isn't keen on a new recruit. He doesn't like extra men to babysit, and he especially doesn't like being unsure of the rookie's capabilities. It doesn't take long for a silent feud to form between him and the newbie, who refers to himself as "Winter" for a call sign or just "Bucky" if he favors you.
Bucky, on the other hand, admires the leadership and protectiveness Ghost shows to his team. But despite that, he's just as cautious of his abilities— and more specifically: where his trust lies, between Bucky, who hasn't entirely yet merged himself with the team, and between the rest of 141, who share a rich history with the Sergeant.
In the first couple missions, Bucky finds himself frustrated with Ghost's orders. He's held the Sergeant title too, once— Hell, climbing the ranks practically required acting on command without any question. That is, until he was able to make his own decisions again. But Bucky had become accustomed to leading himself, or often following behind Steve (who knew more than anybody that telling him what to do didn't guarantee anything), not to mention the mess of Hydra and everything he did to detach himself from that life— So, he struggles with Ghost's authority, and begins to learn very quickly that challenging the non-red, skull-faced fucker is a bad idea.
On one particular morning, just a few days after their last big mission, Bucky wakes up with no arm. Fortunately for him, it's a familiar feeling of emptiness on one side. He later finds it on a shelf in the common room, displayed like a mantelpiece alongside various weapons, with a little skull etched into the bicep with black grease paint. The worst part? Ghost is the first person to sneak past him in decades. Dramatic motherfucker.
After that, Bucky finds a balance of respect and displeasure for Ghost, and works alongside him in unison. The rest of the team doesn't question his sudden change in attitude: some of them, too, had to get over that barrier, after all.
They bond over a share of books. Bucky spent a lot of his downtime before and after the army reading, and likewise with Ghost. Bucky owned a first edition of The Hobbit before he became a pawn for the Soviets, and Ghost is secretly jealous of it, having lost himself in fictional stories all the time growing up.
They also bond over their shared magnet for idiots. Specifically, idiot teammates with a tendency for causing trouble. Bucky ribs him for not making any moves on Soap, whereas Ghost defends himself with a quiet grunt and often changes the subject to something else.
The biggest thing they oppose on, however, is the subject of masks. Ghost is never seen without his, but Bucky almost never has it on unless they're on a mission, and even then, he occasionally opts out, mostly to blend in when necessary (and to help keep his memories at bay, not that he'd ever say it).
Typically, their favorite past time is sparring. Bucky has never found a non-human that can almost match him strength for strength, and Ghost likes knowing he can throw his all at Bucky without having to worry about the damage it could cause. It's the best training for the both of them; allowing their energy to drain, their skills to improve, and their banter to escalate until one of them is on top of the other, holding them down until a forfeit is called.
More than once, Bucky has been the one on the ground with his arms pinned. He claims he only admitted defeat to, "boost Ghost's ego so the miserable bastard can smile for once," but they both know it's not quite the truth.
They work as a good team and even better rivals. And though Bucky would never admit it out loud, after everything he's lost, he enjoys having an equal again. And Ghost, well... Ghost wouldn't mind keeping him around for a while, that's for sure.
That's all I've got for now! I have a NSFW headcannons draft for these two soldiers' x reader. Lemme know if that's something I should post ;D
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dranna · 1 month
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contents: description of body horror(?) how you call it, description of mutated creature (aka Voldemort), Writing exercise: Voldemort
a/n: I haven’t read all the books and I’m not planning to do so. I got through till order of the phoenix and it was already a battle on my side. I hate the books and Harry’s character, I’m sorry. So if there is something not making sense canon vise here or any of my future writings, that’s why.
One of the things that always strikes me as odd, that Voldy isn’t that scary(?) or gruesome as the main villain of the story. Based on the things we learn about him, we never see much of his actions. I think his character would’ve been more interesting if we see more horror fuel stuff from him … or just him to do anything .I also imagine him looking more reptile like and terrifying.
English is still not my first language
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drawing is by me :D
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An eerie feeling froze the blood in the participants' veins, as they heard the sound of naked feet tapping on the dark, marble floors. The patting was mixed with the sound of skales flowing on the shiny surface, omitting a low hissing ring.
The Malfoy manor was silent, even more so than usual. An unnatural stillness covered the building from top to bottom. It felt like the house was sick to its bone, trying to sweat its uninvited guests out.
This stillness was thick like fog, and was silently screaming into their ears.
The halls were dark, only illuminated by flowing candles, which lended the naked legged creature an even more haunted look. It was a stretch to call that being a man, because he wasn’t. Not anymore. He tossed away his humanity long ago, when the first part of his soul got torn out from his chest and shoved into an object.
Killing, consuming, ruling.
More power, more fear in hearts, more torment in minds.
The Dark Lord was walking slowly towards his ‘throne’ at the end of the long, gloomy table.
His cold figure casted a long shadow on the dark void of the floor, making it look even more ghostly.
He appeared as a mutated skeleton in the huge chair, swallowed by the fabric of his long, inky cape. His spider-leg-fingers lacked any meat or muscle, there was only paper thin stretched skin on the bones. As their gaze anxiously traveled up on skinny arms and on clothing, they saw a wretched neck first, not leaving anything to imagination. Every artery was bulging out, mercilessly working to keep the creature amongst the living, fueled by dark magic. The veins created an uneven surface of his porcelain skin, sticking out then diving back into bones.
When their eyes got used to the view of their horrific embroidery, they met with The Eyes. They sat deep in the dark holes of the reptile skull. They were glowing with a reddish light and burning with an icy flame. They lacked any kind of warmth that illuminated the orbs of men, they rather hid well contained violence and the enjoyment of other’s pain. His pupils were two lines as if a snake, cutting the red irises in half. Their look was hard and cruel, expanding in a cat-like manner when seeing something innocent breaking.
The shape of his skull tossed away the resemblance of a human’s, it borrowed the build of a reptile. If possible, the skin became even whiter and thinner than on the hands, in some places forming skale like growth around the eyes and mouth. The flesh of his nose has rotted away, leaving two empty holes in its place. The jaw extended, became longer and wider, bearing many shark-like teeth, with 4 huge fangs. The tongue became long and V shaped, having the ability to smell for prey.
There he sat at the long table, Nagini twirling around his neck and hissing something into his elf-like ears, smiling spine chillingly at his audience.
“Malfoy, why don’t you introduce me to your son?”
The voice that broke the silence was low, almost a whisper, but ran through the hall clearly. It was a strict sound, not tolerating anything but full obey of its orders.
The scarlet irises turned towards a young man, with shiny blond hair, pale face and big, gray eyes. He was wearing nothing but black which made his nervous paleness sickly.
“Perfect” - hissed the Lord while rotted away lips twitched into a terrifying smile, showing his huge sharp teeth.
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Tagging: @giosnape
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lady-oyanka · 1 year
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Sorry to have to vent like this on here
But I’m two steps away from
From going on a killing rampage. So to prevent myself from catching a case; I must vent. Yes I know venting publicly is considered NUTS but I have been keeping this shit bottled up inside since April of 2022. I have had a lot going on and I have been just doing the Capricorn thing and keeping shit to myself. But I just can’t stay silent anymore.
In this very PC and BS world now when one defends themselves all of a sudden you are a Drama Queen or a Bully.
Yeah well in my book someone that doesn’t defend themselves is a fucking pendejo
I for one like to be nice to everyone and helpful but when someone you have helped and been nothing but kind and nice to, turns around and starts talking shit about you. It then brings out the Evil side of me that mom (may she rest in peace) used to try to beat out of me.
I personally don’t have anything to hide or am I ashamed of anything I have done in my life. Life is Life things happen for a reason, but one must keep Living.
But if you going to spread lies/false information Let’s start with some “FACTS” so think, before you try to come for me.
This goes for one Yolanda E (Miss Juliette or Miss Mango as she likes to call herself) and the subhuman reject known as Keyser aka clawsweb.
I have never in my entire life ever made fun of someone especially someone like these 2 shitbags. But for this cunt to talk shit…bitch check yourself before you wreck yourself
Sorry that you feel a certain kind of way because your refrigerator is next to your bed.
But don’t go talking shit about how I live or where I live when you are deflecting because your ass lives in the shithole that you live at.
Just because your 46 year old ass can’t get pregnant and have a kid, or because your bf of 6 years left your ass for a younger woman. None that shit has to do with me nor do I give a shit.
It’s not my fault that you are a miserable cunt.
At the end of the day having a roof over one’s head when they have a child is what’s important. Having a job or several (because it’s expensive to live in NY) isn’t shameful. But for you to talk shit when your ass don’t even pay taxes, because you’re living off the government. FUCK YOU…
Oh and Keyser sorry that you have zero roots or culture, not my fault. Newsflash anyone can be a racist piece of shit no matter what race, ethnicity or nationality they are. You are a racist POS, and so is she.
And let’s not even talk about how you go around getting BJs and more from TS SWs and then try to act all high and mighty… I have eyes and ears everywhere.
So don’t try to play that bs with me,
And before anyone tries to defend this cunt and the moron that doesn’t bother to check the source before he opens his mouth.
Let me tell you that they had doxxed me back in August 2022, all because she lost in court. People should learn not to lie in court. I won in court because she was lying from start to finish. Plus she had this cockbag there claiming that he was there as a witness…witness to what cockbag when your ass had never been on my sets, ever…he got lucky that he wasn’t called on because that would have been amusing. Either way I walked out of there John Gotti style… #IWON
However, I’m tired of the lies & false information she has been spreading since. #done
A normal human being would stick their tail between their legs and just keep it moving..but no not this cunt.
You two can go stick a cactus dildo up your asses and make sure to ram it all the way up.
Now enjoy seeing this cunt with her bed next to her refrigerator. My 1 bedroom Apartment in LONG ISLAND at least is in a house and I have a kitchen, living room, bedroom and bathroom. Plus a full backyard. Don’t say shit about me and how I live when you are living like this in your ghetto ass neighborhood. Bet your Fat Albert Cocksucker doesn’t know how you live, well now he will since he thinks he knows so much….Now everyone can see the real Miss Juliette in her environment. Like the cockroach you really are. You don’t even have money to buy bdsm equipment so you had to borrow mine. Maybe if you actually worked instead of sponging off the government you would have a car, clothes, real furniture, maybe even real bedding…instead of plastic bagging your bed.
https://youtu.be/XFPnpV6QzCI
Oh and let’s not forget this one eyed Fat Albert looking mother fucker that has the balls to say something about my weight and looks. I may no longer be the spring chicken I was but at least my fat ass goes to the gym oh and I don’t look like the fucker from “The Hills Have Eyes” like him.
These 2 can suck my dick.Now that I have vented I feel better. Carry on and enjoy your night.
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crybabyddl · 2 years
Text
Arsonist’s Sunlight
Keith Kogane x Fem!Reader
Chapter 15: “When I was a man I thought it ended, when I knew love's perfect ache...” (Arsonist's Lullabye)
Warning: swearing, angst, sexual tension (We've arrived pals! Don't worry, it's not smut) enemies to lovers, voltron-level violence (aka not bad)
Word Count: 5,165
Author's Note: Hi friends! Here we are, Chapter 15!!! This is the longest series I've ever made! I'm pretty proud of myself for sticking with it. I'm not the best writer, but I do enjoy writing. Hopefully you guys enjoy it too! :) Tbh, I only started writing because I wanted to make fanfics for specific scenarios I had in mind. It's half self-indulging, half me being creative and obsessed with fictional characters to the point where I create scenarios that I feel the need to publish for the entire world to see. Luckily, nobody irl has discovered me yet and I hope to keep it that way. Anyway, I'll let you read now lmao.😚
Y/N's POV
        “I suppose that's a good idea. If we're lucky we might not even remember it.”
    “Right. Should we go to your room? Everyone's asleep, but it just feels weird to be out in the open like this.” Keith admits, looking down at his slippers. They're just like everyone else's; plush robotic lion heads in the paladin's respective color.
        “I was actually thinking yours, since I'm not sure if Allura is going to check on me again. Plus, you have a mission tomorrow so nobody is going to bother you if they think you're asleep.” I suggested, beginning to walk in that direction. Keith caught up almost immediately, taking steps in time with mine as he stood on my left.
   Of course I was nervous; how could I not be? I was about to act out a pheromone-induced fantasy with the one person I have a tumultuous relationship with. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach begin to flutter, the nunvil not doing nearly enough to keep my nerves down. Soon enough, we were stood in front of the door to Keith's room. He placed his hand on the scanner, and we waited for the doors to slide open with a whoosh.
    “Should we look over what that page in your book said one more time? You know, just to make sure we don't miss anything. It would help ensure we get it right the first time.” The red paladin spoke up after a period of silence. I reached into my pocket, retrieving the tiny novel I'd just recently become reunited with. I held it out, showing Keith I had it with me.
        “Looks like we're on the same page... eh?” I joked, giving a small chuckle. I mentally whacked myself with a bat for making a stupid joke, but I couldn't help myself. At least I wasn't sober; then it really would've been embarrassing.
    “I am this close to making your dream of getting thrown out of the airlock come true.” Keith deadpanned, a the ends of his lips slowly curving upwards after a couple seconds.
   This was maybe the second time I'd seen this guy smile, and let me tell you; it doesn't get old. I liked being able to make him smile, especially since he wasn't known to do so. It made me feel special, and I obviously made him happy enough to not care what his face was doing. I wondered if Keith was aware of the pleasant look painted on his lips.
        "Speaking of dreams..." I flipped to the bookmarked spot with the dream interpretation I'd talked to him about the other day, skimming the sentences in front of me. I watched as he looked over the words on the page, silently mouthing the words as he read.
    “Okay, so we've already addressed the issues we had with each other. What do we do now? There's nothing about how to fix the issues.” Keith scratched his head, a hiccup escaping him. The little sound he made was so adorable that I started giggling, my drunkenness making everything funnier than it really was.
        “S-sorry Keith,” I paused to laugh, trying to regain my composure and taking a deep breath. “That was just too cute. Who would've thought a tough guy like you would make such an adorable noise?” I managed to rein in my laughter, looking to Keith with an apologetic smile.
    “S’okay,” His words slurred a little bit, the effects of the nunvil were still active. “It was pretty funny.” He cracked yet another smile, with teeth this time. They were only visible for a split second before his lips reconnected, his grin dwindling into a peaceful expression. I reciprocated, giving a soft smile of my own. We basked in the glow of his bedside lamp for a short while before I came to my senses.
        "Oh, right, back to this. I'm not entirely sure what to do. Should we just go for it?" I asked, looking to Keith for approval.
    "I guess so," he shrugged. "First, I think we both need a good luck charm." He opened the drawer of his nightstand, grabbing what appeared to be a small bottle of nunvil. 
        "Where'd you get that?"
    "Apparently, they don't check IDs at the Space Mall." He smirked, briefly disappearing into his bathroom before emerging with two little cups. He poured half of the nunvil in one cup, handing it to me, the rest going into the other cup.
   He held out his cup to say cheers, and I repeated the action. After we knocked our shots back, I felt the burn of it travel down my throat and into my chest. I already felt much more at ease, the strong alcoholic-adjacent concoction working its magic within an instant.
   Once we were finished, he took the cup from me, putting it down on the nightstand along with his. Quickly grabbing my hand, he led me to his door.
   ‘Right, the dream starts out with me coming to his room to talk.’ I thought to myself. Keith closed the door and I took some deep breaths, mentally preparing myself. I knocked gently, but still loud enough for Keith to hear. The whirring noise filled my ears as the panels slid to reveal the room I'd been in just seconds ago.
        “Keith, we need to talk.” I thought back to my dream, grateful that I'd written it down just in case. It was so vivid to the point where I woke up thinking it was real. That made it a lot easier to remember what happened and what was said.
    “Yeah, I know. Is that why you're here?” I watch his toned arm fall from its perch on the doorframe, the muscles contracting. He turns, his back facing me as he leads us further into his room.
        “It is. Am I allowed to sit or is that reserved for people you respect?” I asked, using the same sickeningly sweet yet sinister tone, just as I'd done in the dream. Keith scoffed—he seemed to have remembered the details just as clearly as I did.
    “I'd rather ask you to leave, but I'm not some sort of monster, McClain. Just sit somewhere and let's get this over with, alright?” He huffs, following me as I mimic the scene playing in my head. He sets himself down beside me shortly after I've sat down on the end of his bed, my hands in my lap as I look around the room in the awkward silence.
        “Obviously, we need to talk about the problem you have with me.” I state, looking over at Keith. He's fidgeting, picking at the skin around his nails. 
    “I'm the one with a problem? How about you, with your high and mighty attitude and constant need to start a fight? I'm pretty sure that's the problem here—you're the problem here.”
        “Oh, is that how you see it? Well, I'd be happy to give you another problem, Red.” I say, shooting a fiery glare in his direction.
    “You always do.” Keith looks over at me as I rise abruptly to my feet, swiftly heading towards the door.
        “Whatever, I'm not doing this. Just keep being a fucking jerk, I don't care anymore. I can't do this.” I shout angrily at him, thankful the castle's rooms are semi-soundproof.
   Before I reach the motion sensor, I'm tugged backwards by a strong grip on my wrist. The movement turns me 180 degrees, crash landing into my enemy's grasp, feeling his hands as they clutched my shoulders. I couldn't help but wonder what was going through Keith's mind as we played out this scene.
   I feel just as I did in the dream; a perfect mixture of practically every emotion. I felt nervous, vulnerable, even a bit angry as I became further immersed in the dream scenario. I awkwardly backed away, trying to create some distance between the red paladin and I, only to find myself locked in place by the strong arm that found its way around my back.
    “Wouldn't I just be more of a jerk if I let you storm out of here? You're angrier now than you were when you knocked on my door.” Keith was doing really well, as if he was used to acting out moments like this. To be fair, we've had plenty of practice with all of our real-life arguments like this one.
        “Why do you care? It's not like you can do anything to fix it anyway.”
   I looked up into his indigo eyes, noticing the way the lighter shades transitioned like splashes of water into the cool, darker shade that took up a majority of his irises. I had never looked at Keith this way before. How did my mind know exactly how I felt? This wasn't part of the dream, not even remotely! I was frozen, too overwhelmed to voice my concern.
   Keith's eyes flickered down to my hands, which had subconsciously moved to the front of his shirt, clutching at the soft fabric. I noticed how his pupils dilated—he knew something was off too, but we knew neither of us were in the right state of mind to do anything about it.
    “Maybe we're not supposed to fix anything,” His voice is soft, but it crashes into me like a wave from the ocean that lies within his eyes. A gentle wave, one that holds me tender yet allows me to float freely. “I think... I think we're supposed to move along and follow wherever the universe decides to take us.” We're drunk, that's all it is. We're just drunk, acting out a dream we both had, taking a few creative liberties as we go along.
        “Keith...” I start, but I'm left with nothing to say. All that swirls in my mind is a single thought, repeating itself over and over, alternating between shouts and whispers. I couldn't make out the words, but it gave me reassurance; that everything would be just fine.
  “Please let me kiss you.” He whispers gently, leaning closer. I do nothing to stop him; I find myself moving closer, meeting him in the middle. The space between us is small, but still felt too far.
        “Please...”
   That's all it took for Keith to hold my face in his hands, bringing us as close as we could be to one another. Our lips were touching, moving, and it just felt right. I could feel my heart pounding, my fingers twisting the neckline of his shirt that I'd been clinging onto; anything to keep him here with me. This was something I'd never experienced before, and I already craved it. We held each other tighter, almost afraid of what would happen if we broke apart too soon. Something about this moment felt so utterly right; the strength of our passion outlasted the fragile passing of time.
   Memories of every interaction we'd had flashed through my mind at lightning speed. It only slowed during the good parts, even parts I didn't associate meaning to. I could feel the wind, the sun, the ocean, the grass under my feet. Images of my home, under a blue sky with raindrops dripping off the overhang. A wooden door with two openings. The yellow swing my father used to push me on as a child. It went by in a split second, and yet I saw it all. Every detail made sense.
   I could feel the warmth leaving my body as we disconnected, needing a moment to steady our breathing. There were a million questions and worries scattered about my brain, but the afterglow of our kiss kept them quiet for the time being. It was safe here. I was safe with Keith. All I felt was warmth—pleasant and rejuvenating like sunshine, fervent and insatiable like a fire. I knew both would burn brightly until my final breath.
I thought I would panic in a situation like this. Why wasn't I panicking?
   ‘Because it's him,’ I thought to myself. ‘It's just you and him. Here. Together. Holding each other tight, your lips are brushing against his.’ And it felt right. I couldn't even finish all the questions I had in my head. It was as though Keith's lips held the remedy to my worries.
  The sound of his breathing was surely an antidote for the lustful. Pulling away from his embrace was necessary to breathe, but the pure, spellbinding air between us made it hard to let go.
  I fastened the belt of my suit around my waist, checking in the mirror one last time before leaving my room. Shiro asked me to report to the command center, before he and Keith departed for the Blade of Marmora headquarters. I took a deep breath before entering through the automatic doors, my eyes adjusting to the lighting in the room.
  “Y/N, there you are. How are you feeling today?” Shiro asked, his tone a bit more chipper than usual. I scratched behind my left ear with my index finger awkwardly.
        “Truthfully, I've been better. Was there something you needed me for?”
  “Actually, yes. I know you drank last night, but the Blade of Marmora just contacted us and requested we bring you to the base.” The black paladin addressed me sincerely, putting a hand on my shoulder.
        “Hold on a tick—me?” Shiro nodded. “How do they know about me?” I was confused. I'd never heard of the Blade of Marmora until the other day. How could they know who I am, and what did they want from me?
  “I'm not sure, but they asked for you by name. I would never make you do anything you're uncomfortable with, so you can totally say no, but in order to get the information we need from the Galra, you'd have to come with Keith and I.”
  I took a moment to weigh my options. I could either deny the Galra's request and screw up Voltron's chances of getting vital intel on Zarkon, or I can go on a highly awkward road trip with Keith and Shiro and potentially put myself in danger by meeting Galra spies...
        “And they didn't provide any explanation as to why I was summoned?”
  Shiro shook his head. How was I supposed to come to a rational conclusion when both choices seemed like a dead end?
        “Fuck it, I'll go. Voltron's objective is much bigger than any individual. Besides, what could the Galra need from someone like me?”
  “Thank you. I know this is a tough situation to be in, but you won't be alone.”
  I felt better after hearing Shiro's words. I knew I'd be safe with the paladins.
        “Thanks, Shiro. And don't worry, I'll be careful.” I reassured the resident older brother figure.
    “My offer still stands, number one!” Coran piped up, sure to make his point with a raised index finger. Shiro and I turned to look at the eccentric Altean. “I have all different types of costumes and wigs if need be!” I looked back over at Shiro, whose eyes were wide with alarm.
        “That's very noble of you, Coran, but I think I'll be just fine. I do appreciate your willingness to help though, so thank you.” I offered my praise to the older alien man, who nodded, his brows furrowed with concern.
— Time skip bc I literally can't think and I have to move past the plot or else I'll go insane. Maybe I’ll just delete the entire story bc I have no idea what I'm doing. Would anyone care? Like if I just left this fic unfinished permanently like it'll be completed but it doesn't have an end, would y'all be mad? Like, can I pull a One Direction? P.S. this time skip was written a few months before the note about me taking a hiatus. I literally said in that note that i would never do to you what One Direction did to me. I plan to keep my word on that, but this whole thing was just too ironic and funny to delete. —
Third Person POV
  The journey back to the castle was painfully awkward. Keith's entire silhouette was stiff as he focused on piloting the red lion out of the space pocket. Shiro sat on one side of the ship, while Y/N sat on the other side. The two kept their heads down, deep in thought. Explaining everything to the rest of the team was going to be uncomfortable to say the least.
    “I beg your pardon? Did you just say you're half Galra?”
  “Yes.”
  Allura stands from her seat abruptly, storming out of the room. A moment later, she returns, letting out a heavy sigh and keeping her head down.
    “I'm not pleased to hear about this. The last time someone Galra became a paladin, it resulted in the destruction of my planet; nearly my entire race.”
  “Princess, he can't help the fact that he–”
    “You have no idea what I've been through! Expecting me to be okay with this information is ridiculous.”
  The rest of the team was shocked. Nobody had anticipated the possibility that one of the paladins could have Galra heritage. Coran hadn't spoken a word since the revelation, but he looked beyond somber.
  Shiro elbows Y/N; an unexpected move that causes her to stumble forward a couple steps. He then coughs in his fist awkwardly, as if nothing happened.
    “So, would now be a bad time to mention that I’m also part Galra?”
  The question was rhetorical, but that didn’t stop the resounding answer of ‘yes’ to flood the room.
 “Wait, if you’re part Galra, doesn’t that mean…” Lance can’t even finish his own sentence before choking up at the thought. Not that he even fully understands what that would mean for him, but if Allura didn’t like it, neither did he.
   “Oh yeah, about that… we’re not twins. I suppose we technically are, but not in that way. I’m part Galra, you’re not.” Y/N responded sheepishly, keeping her gaze pointed down at the floor. It would hurt too much to see the disappointment on her friends’ faces.
Keith’s POV
  “Basically, Keith had to do this trial to prove that the knife was his. After he almost died, he decided that the Blade of Marmora could just take the knife because he didn’t need it to know who he really was. It was actually pretty cinematic, but I digress. Then, the knife begins floating, like, levitating in mid-air, and it transforms into the giant machete thing it is now. Cool, right?”
  Pidge and Hunk look at each other, then back at Y/N, who held a cheerful expression. The group decided that they wanted to hear the gist of what happened from her instead of me. I’m not entirely sure why, but Shiro assured me that it would all be okay.
 “That still doesn’t explain how we’re related but not.” Lance pouted, folding his arms while he leaned back in his chair.
  Unfortunately for him, he underestimated his stretch, causing the chair to wobble and almost fall over. Unfortunately for my amusement, he managed to catch himself before disaster could strike.
   “I’m getting there! It’s like Shiro always says, ‘patience yields focus’.”
  Y/N’s brother grumbles a ‘fine’ and allows her to continue her rundown.
   “Then, when as we were getting ready to leave, the Blade agents said they had something for me. I was confused, obviously. So, they gave me this cute little dagger,” she pulls out the object, smiling to herself as she admired the craftsmanship on the weapon. “And explained that my mother was Galra. Apparently my mother went to Earth, got with your– well actually our dad, and returned to space and had me. Since space time and Earth time are different, I was actually born at the same time as you,” Y/N paused, gauging the reactions of everyone in the room. Picking up on the confusion, she continued.
   “I know it sounds crazy and totally not plausible, but that essentially makes us ‘half twins’ because we share a parent and were born at the same time if you were to convert Earth time to space time or space time to Earth time.” She has a nervous smile on her face, her eyebrows are curved the opposite way. It’s clear she’s anxious to hear what Lance will say. I find myself worrying for her as well.
 “Listen, I really want to be like ‘O.M.G. We’re half twins!’ and make a cool handshake with you, but this is just a lot for me to take in all at once.”
  Lance swiftly turns to leave, Pidge and Hunk quickly following after him to avoid the awkwardness that lingered in the room. As soon as they’re all out of hearing distance, Y/N sinks into the sofa. She puts her hands over her face and her shoulders jerk as she begins to cry.
  My first instinct, as someone who grew up alone, is to run away. I’ve learned to combat that instinct, but my second instinct isn’t much better. I look to Shiro, expecting him to know what to do. It wasn’t until after five seconds of expressionless, wide eye contact that I remembered he grew up alone as well, and therefore had a similar response. Usually, we’d rock, paper, scissors it out to see who would deal with the issue at hand, but this really wasn’t the time for that.
  So, as I thought about what the best plan of action was, Shiro decided to take matters into his own hands… by running out of the room. To be fair, he’s technically only six. Even so, that left me with the task of consoling Y/N.
  I thought back to when we were at the pool. She’d comforted me that day. Surely I could do the same for her, couldn’t I? It was worth a shot.
 “It’ll be okay, Y/N,” I spoke softly, not wanting to startle her with the sudden noise.
  The memory of her putting her arm around me was brought to the front of my mind. Maybe it would help her feel less alone if I did the same. I extended my arm behind her, but stopped midway.
 “I’m gonna put my arm around you, if that’s okay.”
   “Alright. I just,” Y/N sniffles, still keeping her head down. Her face is shielded by her knees.
  A moment passed before she spoke.
   “He probably hates me now. Lance, I mean. Allura and Coran probably do too. I’m sorry, this is selfish of me. These are people you’ve known longer and literally save the universe with. I should be asking you how you’re holding up.”
 “Stop, you’re allowed to be upset. Just know you’re not alone. This is yet another shared experience between the two of us. And, just like before, we’re going to get through it and help each other along the way.” I squeezed Y/N’s shoulder, hoping it reassures her even slightly.
   “Thanks,” she exhales. “I really appreciate you doing this. I know this type of thing isn’t your strong suit.”
 “Are you kidding? I’m the best at cheering people up!” I offer sarcastically. I hear her chuckle softly, finally lifting her head.
   “Oh for sure,” she quips. “But seriously, thank you. If you ever want to talk, I’m here. Us Galra have gotta stick together.” Y/N smiles at her pun, the corners of her eyes scrunching.
  I find myself returning the expression, but catch myself before it becomes too noticeable. I don’t smile easily, and even though everyone has seen me laugh and flash a grin, I’d prefer it to be on my own terms. We stand up from the sofa, preparing to go our separate ways.
 “Thanks, Y/N. And just so you know, Lance will come around. He can’t hold a grudge for as long as he thinks. Just give him some time and he’ll arrive to the right conclusion.”
   “Good to know. I’m gonna get some sleep, it’s been a long day. Good night.” She nods, turning and heading towards the bedroom corridor.
 “Sleep well.”
Y/N’s POV
  Despite how draining the day had been, I found myself lying wide awake. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t keep my eyes closed for very long and my mind was filled with concerns over how to win back the trust of the paladins, Allura, and Coran.
  I swung my legs over the side of my bed, slid on my slippers, and put on a sweater. If I wasn’t going to end up sleeping, I might as well tire myself out. It couldn’t hurt to do a little training, could it?
  The hallways were empty as I walked to the training deck. All that could be heard was the purr of the ship’s engines and the whir of the crystal’s power that kept the castle up and running. Luckily, the deck was unoccupied, which meant I could practice using my new dagger in private.
   “Let’s see how much of a Galra fighter I really am.” I muttered under my breath, pulling the small knife out of its sheath. The purple gem with the Blade of Marmora symbol glowed as I secured my hold on the grip.
  You’ve completed Level Two of hand-to-hand combat training. Would you like to try some willpower exercises now?
  “Sure!” I responded to the artificial intelligence. I wasn’t sure what ‘willpower exercises’ entailed, but I could certainly use a break from the workout I was currently enduring.
  Okay. Starting up willpower exercise number one. Would you like me to explain the exercise?
   “Yes, please.”
  Okay. This willpower exercise will require you to put on the device that will appear on the table in front of you…
  I notice a white, almost crown-like headpiece materialize in the center of the table. I take it and place it on my head.
Great! Now, get in a comfortable, seated position, close your eyes, and await further instruction… Our motion sensors have detected that you are seated. Now, our device will allow your thoughts to be used in your willpower training. Would you like to proceed?
   “Yes.”
  Okay. Beginning conscious and subconscious scan… Scan complete. Are you ready to start willpower exercise number one?
   “Yes.”
 Okay. For this exercise, please imagine you are in a room with a member of your family, or a loved one that you trust…
  My mind immediately pictures Lance. He’s my brother after all, the only family I know I have.
  Great! Now, you will be shown a number scenarios with this person. Your job is to respond as responsibly as you can. Your evaluation will be based on a multitude of factors. Each scenario will test a different factor. After these scenarios, you will be tasked with imagining other people in the same circumstances in order to ensure the accuracy of your emotional responses regardless of the subject.
 “Y/N!” Lance smiled, waving frantically. I felt the corners of my mouth tugging in opposite directions as I pictured myself running towards my brother.
  We smothered one another in a warm embrace. I felt safe, happy. After a moment we pulled apart, beginning to talk about our adventures in space.
 “I have to tell you something.”
   “You know you can tell me anything, Lance.”
  He takes a deep breath, his eyebrows furrowed in contemplative thought.
 “I’m not sure how else to say this, so I’ll just come right out and say it. Y/N, I’ve been assigned to kill you.”
   “What? Lance, what are you talking about?” I can barely speak. I feel frozen. I’m tempted to take the headpiece off, but keep forgetting because of how immersive the technology is.
 “Allura said that because you’re Galra, you cannot be trusted. I’ve known her longer, and after the experiences I’ve had with the Galra, I have to agree. This isn’t easy, but I have to do this. I’m sorry, Y/N.”
   “Lance, you don’t have to do this! I’ll just leave! This isn’t fair to you. Allura shouldn’t have burdened you with such a task.” I tell him, placing a hand on his shoulder. I feel tears stream down my face.
 “No, no. That’s the thing,” he steps back, causing my hand to fall down at my side. “I accepted the mission. I brought you here. I want to be the one to do this.”
   “You sound nothing like yourself! What happened? The Lance I know would never kill someone, let alone VOLUNTEER to do it!” I try to reason with him, but his face remains expressionless.
 “You’re wrong. The Lance you knew was the one that trusted you. Now that I know the truth, I’ve had to change my mind about things; about you.”
   “Stop! I know you’re not capable of hurting innocent people! I haven’t done anything! I can’t control the fact that I’m part Galra, in fact I wish I never found out that I was! But those are things I can’t change. Lance, you have to believe me. I would never do anything to hurt you, the paladins, Allura, Coran, or anyone!” I was sobbing hysterically. My own brother was set on ending my life, and I was failing to talk him out of it.
 “Just shut up! You talking is only going to make this harder for you. Just forget everything and pretend I’m a stranger. It was quite easy for me, since you practically are one to me now.” I could tell Lance was on the verge of tears himself, his own willpower being tested.
   “That’s like asking me to forget who I am, Lance. All I’ve ever known is being your long lost sister. That’s how everyone else knows me, how you know me. I know that there’s a part of you that knows the truth. Somewhere deep down, you still believe in me.” My voice was hoarse as I struggled to hold myself together.
 “I wish it didn’t have to be this way. Goodbye, Y/N.”
Third Person POV
  “Y/N! Y/N, are you there? It’s me! I’m right here, it’s okay! Y/N, it’s not real!”
  The distraught young woman took in her surroundings. It took some effort for the paladin to get the headpiece off, since the person wearing it usually has to be the one to do so. Luckily, her guard was down enough that it was easy for him to remove it.
   “Oh my god!” She cries, burying her head in the paladin’s chest.
 “Shh, it’s okay,” he tried to calm her. “I’ve got you. It’s okay, I promise you’re safe.” He holds Y/N tighter, hoping to ease the pain the simulation caused her.
   “It– it was Lance, and he–”
 “Shh, it’s okay. None of it was real. Lance is asleep. Everyone else is asleep. Nobody is going to hurt you, I won’t let them.” The words seemed to ease Y/N’s mind a little, her cries becoming quieter, softer.
   “Please don’t leave. I don’t– I don’t want to be alone.”
 “I won’t. I’m staying right here. You won’t be alone.”
Omg hi guys I’m so sorry for not posting in so long. I know I just announced a hiatus, but I was kind of late on that and I should’ve done that a couple months ago instead of just ghosting you all. Either way, I’m here and I’m so happy to be posting this chapter for you! I hope you found it as exciting as I did! Please let me know what you thought. I always appreciate feedback, especially since it’s been so long! I love you all so much, thank you for supporting me and my stories! <3
P.S. I originally posted this a few months ago on Quotev, so if you want to read my content a bit earlier (Usually not as early as this, but who knows I might accidentally do this again) feel free to check out my Quotev, @crybabyddl
Voltron Taglist: @biqherosix @txrii @hellophantoms @reggies-eyeliner @bexxy @morganayenneferburnham @darlinqserenity @ranaita @scorpio-echo @suki-keith @acethecardsblog @meepopmi @grvngefroggie​
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frogtanii · 4 years
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embarrassed ft. matsukawa issei
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wc. 2.7k (???)
warnings. SMUT, not proofread lol, mutual pining (??), friends to lovers (???), cunnilingus lmao, no dom/sub dynamics, well actually dom&sub issei if you squint rlly hard hehe, kinda cute, embarrassed issei <3, also one (1) WAP reference
an. it’s 2:30 am and i have no idea why i wrote this and who for???? i got the idea from a 🦋😳🙈✨ audio and was immediately inspired idk, sorry if it’s bad i lichrally have no idea since i didn’t read it after it was done :p
( ˘ ³˘)♥︎
it wasn’t like matsukawa issei to be embarrassed.
he was handsome, intelligent, and funny, not to mention he never left women wanting after a night with him.
issei was the entire package and he knew it.
beyond superficiality though, he was happy with his life. he had a great group of friends, a nice apartment all to himself and a completely normal job.
yes, being a funeral home employee wasn’t the most glamorous career a person could have but he was happy. besides, it never deterred him from getting a warm body to sleep with which was a win in his book.
all in all? his life was great!
so why did he have to go and screw it all up?
issei blames makki and the dumb flyer for the reason his life went to shit. (maybe he’s being a little dramatic, but let him have his oikawa moment.)
he was minding his own business when his best friend (recently turned enemy) burst through his apartment door with a piece of paper in his hand and a fire in his eyes.
“dude, look at this!” issei rolled his eyes, putting down his casket catalogue and turning to meet takahiro’s gaze.
“why hello to you too. remind me why i gave you a key again?”
“because you love me and because i bring shit like this to you. look!” with another long and suspiciously tooru-like sigh, issei took the crumpled paper from makki and immediately stopped in his tracks.
“makki... what the fuck is this?”
written in large pink letters and a flowery, borderline illegible font was the name, coffee and cunnilingus. upon further inspection and careful reading, it revealed itself to be a little cafe opening up about 10 minutes from issei’s apartment complex who were looking to hire “young, attractive men who are proficient at eating pussy.”
issei could feel his eyes narrow and his mouth drop open in shock as he repeated his question. “the fuck is this?”
makki shook his head excitedly, tapping to another portion of the flyer that matsukawa had not yet read. “no, no dude, just look at how much they’re paying per hour.” issei begrudgingly obliged but the minute his eyes touched the (Massive™) number, he felt a little faint.
it was a lot of money. more than the funeral home was paying, that’s for sure. with that kind of money he could move out of this suddenly dingy seeming apartment and into a nice flat in the city were he’d always wanted to live. maybe he could buy himself a nice watch or even a high-end suit to replace the one from his highschool graduation (aka the only suit he owns). with that kind of money, he could erase his student debt 3 years ahead of schedule and get his mom into a nicer place.
it was these thoughts that clouded issei’s head as he found himself standing in front of a cute looking building, matching the address on the flyer. i’ll only be working part time, he thought as he pushed the door open to reveal an equally impressing interior with curtained booths and a wide variety of coffee on the menu. i’m only doing it for extra money, he thought as he shook the owner’s hand after he finished his successful interview. no one can ever know, he thought as he dressed himself in the uniform on his first day.
thus began issei’s super secret side hustle where he ate women out for cash.
sounds worse when you say it outright but it was just working. he was good at it, the women liked him, and he was making BANK. still, there were challenges. some women refused to bathe before coming and he would have to send them to the restroom to freshen up which absolutely ruined his chances for a good tip. some women would become heavily infatuated with him, believing that they were in some sort of forbidden romance. he learned to turn them down quick and easy to avoid conflict in the workplace which furthered his space as a boss favorite. but his hardest challenge by far was meeting you.
you were one of hanamaki’s friends, having met him at one of his brief stints in retail on his search for a job. he had gotten fired but you both stayed in touch after he left, becoming really close, really fast.
issei had met you first when takahiro had invited you to the biweekly seijoh third-years movie night. at first, he had been pissed as an “outsider” had never been invited before and he was worried you’d ruin the vibe, especially since it was the first time in months that oikawa would be able to join them. makki vouched for you through and through and the other boys were okay with it so you were in. the second he met you, all his fears of awkwardness and discomfort faded away.
you were great.
you were hilarious, pretty, and could keep up with makki’s harsh jokes, tooru’s diva attitude, iwa’s tendency to hit (hard), and issei’s original disdain. by the end of the night, he had completely forgotten why he didn’t want you there in the first place.
from then on, you were a staple in their little friend group. you were added to the groupchat where you balanced memes with spouts of deep wisdom and you were ever so reliable, always there if any of them needed it.
yeah, you were great. that’s where the problems started.
issei’s feelings for you quickly went from platonic to romantic, faster than you can say godzilla. he hadn’t even recognized that he was falling for you until it was way too late. normally, he wouldn’t have a problem confessing to you but because of his newly found ...occupation, he was too nervous. how would you take it that he was basically a glorified prostitute? ok, that wasn’t exactly what he did but still! you’d probably find him disgusting and horrible and leave the friend group forever. then he’d have to deal with oikawa’s senseless whining and makki’s subtle digs, blaming him for your departure. yeah, he wasn’t going to put himself through that so he decided to keep his mouth shut.
too bad he didn’t have any control over makki’s.
you and takahiro had been on a little friend-date at mcdonald’s after you’d had a long and frustrating shift. you just wanted to vent, expressing your general hate for your job and desperate need for stress relief.
that’s when makki opened his (big, stupid) mouth and suggested that you visit a little place called coffee and cunnilingus. you nearly choked on your fries at the title before quickly pressing him for details. thankfully, he had the decency not to expose that issei worked there but he had not done a good enough job convincing you not to go there. not that it would’ve mattered. your curiosity was peaked and your libido was high so why not try out the weird cafe where you let a complete stranger stick his tongue inside you?
it was settled. you were going to go and you were going to get eaten out and you were going to like it!
or at least that is what you repeated in your head as you walked to the address on your phone before taking a deep breath and walking inside.
“hello, welcome to coffee and cunnilingus, how might i pleasure you this afterno— yn?” issei’s eyes widened as they met your equally bewildered ones, the both of you staring at each other in shock.
“matsukawa-san, is everything alright?” a large hand rested on issei’s shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts and forcing him to break (horrified) eye contact with you and move it onto his boss who was now looking down on him menacingly.
“y-yes sir, everything is fine!” he squeaked out, hating the way his voice cracked on his first syllable. his boss looked at him suspiciously but thankfully didn’t press.
“well, since nothing is wrong, take this beautiful young woman to a booth where you will assist her!” the hand resting on issei’s shoulder slowly squeezed, making him wince in pain. the pain was only an afterthought though to the larger implication of his boss’ words. he’s going to assist you. assist as in pleasure. pleasure as in eat you out.
holy shit, you were going to pass out.
apparently, issei had the same thought process as you, his face whitening like a sheet. “m-me? but sir i-“
“do your job matsukawa-san!” his boss cut him off with a forced smile. all issei could do was nod and silently lead you off to a closed booth near the back or lose his job. you stayed close behind him but remained quiet, absolutely terrified of breaking the silence and ruining the bubble you had created.
you finally reached the booth in question. issei gently opened the curtain and motioned for you to get it, to which you obliged and he followed just behind.
the moment the curtain closed, you were enveloped in an awkward silence and tense atmosphere, neither of you speaking or looking at one another for fear of one of you running out. after what felt like hours, you opened your mouth to speak, not realizing issei had thought the same thing.
“so-“
“i-“
you finally made eye contact with him and burst into the laughter, the tension quickly broken. it took a full minute or two for the both of you to calm down, the absurdity of the entire situation finally catching up with you.
“you first,” issei said, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes while fixing you with an intense gaze swirled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place but it made butterflies bubble up in your stomach. you quickly turned your gaze to the comfortable seat beneath you, your fingers playing with the red stitching while you thought of what you had wanted to say.
“are you any good?” your hand flew up to cover your mouth as your cheeks filled with heat, the embarrassment of your words catching up to you. you hadn’t meant to say that but when you opened your mouth to apologize, you were stopped in your tracks by the lovely sound of issei’s full-bodied laughter filling the tiny booth.
you had heard it just moments earlier but without the sound of your own giggles drowning it out, you couldn’t help but think that he sounded beautiful. you basked in the sound as it slowly trailed off back into silence. now it was you doing the staring making issei look off with a red face and a heart threatening to pound out of his chest.
“y-yeah i’m pretty good. you want to try? me, i mean?” his words nearly leave you gasping, your brain working overtime to try and comprehend what he was saying to you.
“only if y-you want to? what do you want issei?” you whispered, suddenly unable to find your voice. you wanted this to be okay for him too; you didn’t want him to be uncomfortable even though you wanted him more than you could verbally express. despite the embarrassment and fear of rejection lingering under your skin, you stared at him, awaiting his answer. a tiny minuscule nod came from him and you internally shook your head. you needed to hear him.
“i need you to say it, issei.” your words, while quiet, were firm and issei felt himself hardening in his uniform slacks. he swallowed in his increasingly drying mouth before opening his mouth to respond.
“i want to eat your pussy. can i?”
shit.
your own voice was stolen by his words and all you could give him was a nod before he was on you.
issei didn’t waste any time falling to his knees, pulling your panties down, and hiking your skirt up to your stomach, revealing your glistening folds to his hungering eyes.
“fuck, you’re so wet,” is all the warning you get before he’s licking a long stripe up you from entrance to clit before he’s sucking the hard, sensitive nub into his mouth. your eyes immediately rolled back into your head, your hips instinctively bucking up into his mouth while a gasped moan of issei left your lips.
if he could bottle your moans and use them whenever he pleased, he would, the sound sending another pulse of arousal to his already hard cock. he was tempted to reach down and pull himself out of his trousers but he denied himself. this was about you; you and your wet ass pussy.
issei continued his ministrations on your clit, circling it with his tongue before pulling it into his mouth while his hand was ready to get busy. it crept up your thigh, sending shivers down your spine until it reached your sopping entrance, two of his fingers teasing the slit before delving in to the third knuckle.
the moan you let out is borderline animalistic as your body sends another wave of slick pulsing out over his hand. he groaned into your cunt at your tightness, his mind only imagining him deep within you while you squeeze him for all he’s got.
the amount of slick you produced made it easy for him to add a third finger, thrusting them in and out while also crooking them upwards in search for your special spot that would have you seeing stars. it took him a little prodding but he knew he found it when your back arched, your hand came down into his hair, and you whimpered out a string of curses.
“that’s it baby, cmon, you’re doing so well, wanna see you come apart for me,” he all but growled against your clit before delving back in with a higher intensity, his desperation for you to come winning out his desire to tease you and drag this out as long as possible.
with his incessant pressure on your g-spot and his lips suctioned around your clit, it wasn’t long before he got what he wanted.
“isseiisseiisseiissei, i’m coming, i’m coming-oh fuck!” you screamed as you clenched and gushed all over his fingers, your entire body caving in with the intensity of your orgasm. his fingers were practically forced from your spasming cunt but they quickly found a place rubbing your nub side to side as fast as possible. the overwhelming urge to pee came over you and you shook your head, trying to push his hand away.
“no, no, give it to me, i know you can,” issei groaned, his eyes locked on your dripping pussy. the pleasure he was giving came to a head at his words and you felt a clear liquid escape from your tired, overstimulated cunt, your mouth opening in a silent moan before collapsing back on the seat.
the sight proved to be too much for issei as he felt his body tense, his own orgasm washing over him as he emptied himself into his boxers. he fell back onto the ground, in shock of himself coming entirely untouched. he’d never done it before but of course it was you that would bring it out of him. a smile spread across his face at the thought, his head tilting back as he laughed, catching the attention of your worn body.
“what’re y’laughing at?” you slurred, cringing a little at how fucked out you sounded but issei didn’t seem to mind, his face glowing while covered in your slick and cum.
“nothing, nothing, but uh, i have a question.” you felt your heart leap to your chest, your mind already racing with the possibilities. he’s going to say this was a mistake, that we’re just better off as friends. oh god, what if he says i stunk? or the worst pussy he’s ever had? or what if—
“want to go and get a coffee?” he asked, the smile still plastered on his face but with an uncharacteristic hint of shyness. the butterflies were back in your stomach as you shyly nodded before allowing him to help clean you up and standing, not missing how he slipped your lacy underwear deep into one of his pockets.
issei’s hand found its way into yours as he said goodbye to his coworkers and boss before leading you out of the cafe, watching you tell an animated retelling of the bullshit that occurred at your job with a warm grin on his face and pink cheeks.
it might not be like matsukawa issei to be embarrassed but if it resulted in getting you by his side? he would do it again and again.
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munsnz · 3 years
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Sand — Steve Harrington
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TW: Cussing ??
Summary: Where plans were canceled with your best friend, bringing along you and her ex together aka Steve Harrington, remembering the huge dick he was in high school. Perhaps in the span of one day, you catch feelings for him but during a fun activity leads you and Steve together.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem! Reader
Lydineo Radio: Let The Sun In — Wallows
Masterlist — Requests are open!
“I thought Nancy was coming,” You mumbled as you walked towards Steve Harrington’s car, where he wore a pair of his black sunglasses along with a summer blouse, leaning against his car. You and Nancy both planned to head on over to the beach, somehow convinced that Steve was going as well, even if they broke up. It had been a year since the mall burned down due to a mysterious cause, now it was another boring summer all over again.
He smiled a little as he saw you trudge over to him, “Plans were changed little one.” Steve pat you on the head, making you feel like a child and you smacked his hand away from your head.
”Ew don’t touch me,” you groaned and crossed your arms as you stepped away from him. He laughs at the funny gesture and takes his shades off to show his chestnut colored eyes into the open. “So what are we supposed to do?”
”We can......” Steve trailed off, looking at you, “I don’t really know, we can both go?”
You cringed at his words and statement, giving a funny expression playing at your face, “Steve...... I hope you’re kidding me. I don’t even know you much. All I know is that you’re Dustin’s friend and you worked at the mall.”
”I see you’ve watched me huh?” He chuckles at your response and cheekily leans over closer to you, “Guess my beauty- Ow!” He groans to see you step over his shoe, to make him shut up.
”Look, Harrington,” You snap at him, while you take his glasses away from his hands and put them on your face, “I cancelled all my shit plans to come to this little stupid trip Nancy told me and I’m still going, but I’m not gonna let your dumb ego stop me.”
Steve rapidly shakes his head at your orders and ruffles his hair a little being in front of you, a sort of tint of pink welled up on his cheeks. Was he blushing? Seeing him at such flustered state, you rolled your eyes to walk inside the passenger’s seat of his car.
“So are we going-“
”Get in......Asshole,” You smile at him as you shoot a glare at him, making him follow your directions to sit into the driver’s seat next to you.
He sighs a little and turns to you while he turns on the car, “You know Y/N...... you’re a little scarier than I thought.”
Scoffing at such remark, you punch his shoulder, making him laugh nervously, “I’m sorry but I’m not usually this scary.”
”Oh thank-“
You shot a glare at him again, he jumped and turned to the steering wheel. “So where we off to? Maybe we could grab a bite before we go?”
”Sure that’s fine,” You crossed your arms and huffed, this trip was going to be one shitshow for sure knowing you had to be stuck with Steve Harrington.
-
”How come I’ve never heard about you at school?” Steve asks as he sips down the last of his milkshake, watching you, fidgeting with your fingers.
Looking up at him, you claimed while laughing, “Well, you were too busy with popularity. I was just a shadow!” You noticed his eyes turn away from you and you sighed, “I hope you’re not like that anymore. Or are you?”
He shakes his head at your question, being able to express that he was no longer that douchebag he was in high school, “No not anymore. Not everything is about popularity.”
”You learned it the hard way huh?”
Steve nods his head at your claim. It seemed like you could read Steve by his expressions and words he spoke. You had never and I mean never have spoken to Steve Harrington prior to the school you both attended to. Just click. It did.
”How do you know me so well Y/N?” He pondered, while getting up from the table, sliding the money onto the bill for the waitress, “We just met and you read me like a book.”
”I don’t know,” You get up along with him, and both walk outside to find that it was already 4 pm, “Oh shit, it’s late.”
”It’s really intriguing to talk to you,” He blurts out, while walking to his car. You looked up at him, with widened eyes, “I-I mean we took around two hours talking to each other.”
You glanced at him, shuffling over inside his car to avoid any eye contact with you. As you came inside the car, he turned it on, driving to the south where the small beach was near.
-
The wind blew on your face, sending your hair all over the place as you got out of Steve’s car. Somehow a bit of hair got into your mouth and you began to choke but calmed down, whipping the bit of hair out of your mouth. You watched from afar the tides came in and out at the sandy beach located a few towns away from Hawkins. The air began to cool, meaning the sun was going to set anytime soon.
”I guess you’re not much of a beach or summer person right?” Steve calls out from behind you, making you look at him.
He read you correctly this time and you joked, “It’s my job to read you, not yours.” Both of you grabbed a picnic blanket from his trunk and began to walk to the beach area. You slid your shoes off, to place your feet in the thick, warm, sand as Steve followed the same thing like you. In the windy silence, you both laid the towel under you. Getting comfortable, Steve turned on the radio, faintly playing Higher Love by Steve Windows (coincidence? I think not), there wasn’t that much people at the beach that same day. A couple of kids who were playing in the waves from afar, but that was only it. Another driven silence began, but bored out of your mind, you decided to take off your crew neck, where your bathing suit was under and head to the water.
Doing such action in front of him, Steve felt flustered watching you slide your sweater off your body, “Something bothering you Harrington?” You laughed at him, to stand up and lend your hand towards him.
”I.....” Steve trails off, grabbing your hand to stand up and run towards the water, “Last one there is a rotten egg!”
”You’re such a child, Steve!” You giggled and followed him to the tide running in and out. You were sadly the last one that got there, being splashed water at your face by him, “You’re gonna regret that Harrington!”
“I’d like to see you try Y/N!”
-
Who knew you were chasing Steve Harrington across the water to see him being thrown by the wave crashing, sending him underwater. He comes back to the surface to find you next to him, splashing water in his face, getting back at him.
”I told you I’d get you,” You paddled your feet to keep you at the surface, smiling at him to find his ‘perfect’ hair ruined in front of you.
But as you watched him squint his eyes because of the water in them. You felt something touch your leg, making you quiver, “Ah!” You shouted as you rapidly threw your arms around him, unaware of who you were holding on to. Caught off guard, Steve feels his heart skip a beat, feeling your skin on his, sending you both underwater and back up to the surface.
”What’s wrong?!” He exclaims, blabbing out the salty water that accidentally went into his mouth, while grabbing you too.
”I felt something on my leg,” You look around at the body of water around you, still latched onto him. Freezing in your position, the only sound you both heard was of the ocean, nothing else happened. But slowly realizing who you were hung onto, you watch him awkwardly to find him holding you as well, bringing a whole feeling of nervousness. Letting go, although you didn’t want to.
“Karma,” He chuckles silently, and covers his mouth. Realizing your stupidity, it was just seaweed roaming around. You move your hair out of your face and begin to swim away from him, but felt a slight tug by your waist, guessing who it was you paddled away faster and giggled even more.
Now here was the place you were going to have a lifetime with this guy you barely know. This new friend of yours seemed like someone you have known for years on end. Just something about it, clicked.
-
After a shit ton of messing around and unintentionally flirting with each other, you grew exhausted. The swimming and running all over the place drains one out. Now you were splurged onto the warm sand, with a ton of mixed emotions everywhere, eager to try something different.
”This may sound weird but you’re cool.”
”I know I am,” Steve scoffs, laying shirtless under the towel and crossed his legs while you sat up, dusting the sand away from the seashells you both found lying beneath the sand. Another silence grew, the sound of the waves become louder, you were in the reality instead of that pretty daydream with him. You weren’t attracted to Steve. Correct?
Of course you were though, shockingly. But with such courage you sighed, watching the sunset turn into a deep shade of orange and purple, “Wanna do something weird?”
”I like weird,” Steve sits up, placing his arm onto his bent knee, “Tell me.”
You had never been such an outgoing or confident person, it seemed like you were more into the shy part of things. As you breathed out, you mumbled, “How about if we talk about the person we like the most? We write it down in the sand, and run away.”
”That’s weird.”
Whilst you were annoyed, you furrowed your eyebrows at him, “Steve I just said it’s weird-“
”I know I know,” He says, standing up and grabbing a stick from far away, “What are you waiting for?”
-
Scribbling an S, then a T and E, V, E, you finished, but panicked slightly knowing he probably didn’t like you. And no, it wasn’t a cliche thing. Or was it?
”I’m done,” You hear Steve’s voice make you jump nervously, signaling this would most likely be the end of your friendship. Wow, just one day in and poof! There goes another bond away from your life.
“Let me look at it first!”
Fear in his voice, he almost shoved you to turn away from the only letter you saw, “Hey! No I go first!”
”No let me!” You pushed him a little and jumped to look over his shoulder, but he was too quick and moved enough to block your sight to see the name.
In a fight, you still couldn’t see the pair of letters, and pushed each other around, in fear to know the other’s reaction of it.
“Asshole just let me-“
Oh God.
That boy knows.
He saw his name written, from behind your short height. Oh shit you were doomed for sure. It was surely impossible to love someone by day one. But this, this was different. Feelings were all over the place, as you noticed his eyes widened at the sight of the letter that spelled his name out.
You clicked your tongue and flinched a little before you would usually get rejected, “It’s a prank I’m kidding! I’m so funny right?”
Steve awkwardly looks around, putting his arms behind his back and stepped away for you to see YOUR NAME. Oh god you knew it was some prank. You watched and still saw his serious face driven by the silence, perhaps he wasn’t joking.
”Oh man,” You cross your arms, watching the letters printed on the sand being destroyed by the incoming wave, washing it away from existence, “We’re just pranking each other right?”
“Uh-“
”Just say it!” You walk over to him and spin away from him, “We should just go home, it’s getting late anyways.”
”I-“
You continue blabbing more nonsense about your summer and how this idea was just one big mistake. Steve knew you wouldn’t stop anytime soon so he stops you by grabbing your shoulders, catching you off guard. Wide eyed, and flushed face, he mumbles a little, “It’s not a prank, I wouldn’t play with love like that.”
”Love?”
”Yeah......” He trails off, watching you intently at the somewhat attraction he had for you, “I-I uh....I know this is fast. I don’t expect you to say yes which is totally fine I’m sorry I’m rushing this I-“
“I like you too Harrington,” You confidently move away for him to see the letters clearly written STEVE on it. Shocked, Steve snaps out of his thoughts to find you put an arm around him and look at him. “So is this the part where we admit our true feelings then realize we are actually in love after getting to know each other in the span of a day and we kiss under the sunset?”
Steve watched you cheekily grin at him, and nodded slightly, “I suppose-“ He was cut off by your lips pressing onto his, automatically bringing his hands on your waist, holding you closer to his body like glue. Both of you continue to move your lips in sync, realizing, maybe this boring and mistaken trip was all written in the sand.
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mieohmy · 3 years
Text
𝖬𝗒 𝖬𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋? | 𝖩𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝖩𝖺𝖾𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇
PAIRING: teacher! jung jaehyun x teacher! fem reader 
GENRE: flufff, humor
WC: 2.7k
NOTES: tiny mention of blood
SUMMARY: you think it’s cute how your seventh grade students can’t get enough of Mr. Jung. or in which the whole middle schools ships you and jaehyun together.
ღ  
“Miss y/l/n! Miss y/l/n!” You look up from your computer. “Yes?? What is it?” One of your students suddenly asks, “Do you have a boyfriend?” You raise an eyebrow. “What? Um, I don’t think that’s appropriate for class.” Your students protest. “No, Miss Y/l/n, we just wanted to know more about you... that’s all!” one kid pipes up. You scoff. “How many months has it been since I started teaching you guys?” You stand up and grab the papers you were about to hand out to the students for homework. “It’s none of your business, but no, I don’t have a boyfriend.” You hear whispers, and someone faintly says, “But you’re so pretty...” causing your heart to warm. 
After you finish passing it out, you let the kids go. You didn’t think much about the question, not knowing what was to come.
ღ 
It’s a few weeks later when you sit by Naeun at the teacher's table for lunch, that the topic comes up again. She greets you as you place your lunchbox on the table, unpacking your food. “How were your classes?” she asks. Humming, you reply, “Busy as usual, you know.”  Naeun nods, sighing as she laments, “I wish I at least had someone at home to care of me with all this work... Hey, y/n, do you have a boyfriend?” You pause. “No, not anymore.” Naeun sits up. “Oh, sorry.. I didn’t-“ Cutting her off, you laugh. “You don’t need to be sorry about anything. Let’s just relax during our break as much as we can, right?” She smiles in relief. 
The two of you are interrupted by the lunchroom doors opening. You immediately hear whispers and giggles. Turning your head, you see Jaehyun Mr. Jung and another teacher walk in. This was only your second year teaching here at a big school, so you didn’t know all the staff yet. 
“Wow, I have to admit Mr. Jung’s very handsome, no matter when. And I think all the kids agree too.” It was a known fact that Jaehyun was the definition of a teacher-crush. He was extremely handsome, and all students liked him and his class. You’re not sure how many times you’ve heard his name being mentioned in class by your students. It could be about his face, his outfit of the day, or even what he ate for lunch. You nod absentmindedly at her words, mostly focusing on your food. 
Naeun raises her eyebrows at you. “Ohh, so you think he is too??” You stuff a mouthful of food into your mouth, “Well-“ “Who is too?” a voice cuts in. You harshly swallow, coughing. “Are you okay??” You recognize the owner of the voice. It’s Jaehyun. You turn, meeting his eyes. “Yeah, it’s all good..” He nods before placing his papers on the table and leaving to get something to eat. 
“Oooh...” Naeun sings. You roll your eyes. “He was being polite.” You two continue eating until Naeun abruptly says, “You know, you and Mr. Jung would actually look good together.” You squint at her. “Naeun... don’t start shipping me with every guy I speak with now.” “But,” she protests, “it’s not any guy, it’s Mr. Jung. Jung Jaehyun. I don’t believe he’s dating anyone so, think about it.” She stands up to get to her next class, leaving you to sit and contemplate. 
You’re walking to the office when you’re stopped by a small gathering. Jaehyun’s here, you notice. Getting closer, you see him kneeling next to a crying girl. Two other girls were standing there as well. Must be her friends. You quickly walk closer. Jaehyun senses your presence and his head turns to yours. 
You see a flicker of recognition in his eyes as you ask what’s going on. “She lost her book and was searching for it. She was going to be late for her next class, that’s why she panicked. Her friends here were helping search, but they still couldn’t find it.” 
You slowly nod in understanding. Squatting next to Jaehyun, you reassure the crying girl. “It’s fine. We’ll find your book, and you won’t be counted late to your next class. You should go to the restroom and get yourself cleaned up, alright?” She shakily nods and heads off. You dismiss her friends, the two of them whispering and glancing at you and Jaehyun. 
He stands up, offering you a hand. You gratefully take it as he pulls you up. “Well, that was something, wasn’t it?” You fight back a smile, agreeing with him. He scratches his head, about to say something, but you remember you had to go somewhere. You quickly bid him goodbye before running off.
Some students were staying after school for tutoring. You’re helping a kid when one girl speaks up. “Miss y/l/n, you said you don’t have a boyfriend, right?” You frown. This topic again? You look up and see the other students have tuned in on your conversation. “No, I don’t. Why are you asking?” She shrugs, fiddling with her pencil. “I mean, you’re so pretty. We all thought you were dating someone.” 
You shake your head and laugh. “Thank you, but no, I’m not dating. I don’t do that anymore.” She nods thoughtfully. “Well, I think we can find you, someone..” You notice a mischievous look on her face before you cut her off. “Get back to work! This isn’t school-related!” She salutes. “Ma’am yes ma’am!!”
You didn’t know how fast word spreads between kids. It’s only been like what, three days? and rumors were flying everywhere. “Are Miss Y/l/n and Mr. Jung dating?” “ I think he likes her.” “They would look freakin good together...” You sigh as you write on the board, hearing the whispers behind you. And while all these rumors spread, you had no idea what Jaehyun was thinking. 
It became the talk of the school. Even the staff knew and shipped you two. Naeun brings it up one day in the teachers’ lounge. “What’s all this stuff with you and Mr. Jung?? My kids keep talking about you two, and they don’t even have you or him as your teacher.” You shrug. “I don’t know. Kids like to make a big deal of out anything.” 
“But this time, they aren’t wrong.” she teases. “I agree with them. You two would be like the power couple of the school.” You make a disgusted face. “I don’t want to be known as the power couple of a middle school.” Naeun laughs, the two of you getting into other boring topics. 
It didn’t help when Jaehyun had to go to an emergency meeting one day, and he couldn’t get a substitute for his sixth graders. You’re not sure why you’re surprised when he comes knocking on your door, a sheepish smile on his handsome face. You’re pretty sure there were several rooms between your and his classrooms’, so why did he come to yours? 
“Miss y/l/n, you wouldn’t mind watching my students for a couple of hours?” You immediately shake your head, “No, of course not. Come in!” The kids slowly shuffle in, some of them shooting you both weird looks. 
After he leaves, you continue teaching as the little kids watch on. In the middle of it, your neighbor knocks on your door and tilts their head in. It was Mrs. Park. She catches your eye and beams. “So sorry to interrupt, but thank you for taking Mr. Jung’s kids. I had no more space in my classroom, you know...” You let out a forced laugh. No way... could she have done that on purpose?? Nah.. “No! It’s no problem! We’re all fine in here. His kids are really well behaved too!” 
“It’s only because Mr. Jung is awesome!!” one of his kids suddenly says. You hear a chorus of agreements, even your kids who must’ve previously had him were nodding. “He’s so kind and a really good teacher as well!” a student says, purposely looking at you. You attempt to smile, but it comes off as a grimace. How long would this go on for??
The audience was silent, attention focused on the bright stage before them. The dancers held a special performance for the school in the auditorium, AKA a break for you. You watched, entranced as the dancers seemed to effortlessly glide across the stage. Suddenly the thought popped into your head that you left the classroom door open. There was nothing wrong with that, but you wanted to be on the safe side. 
Not wanting to bother the onlookers, you slowly get up from your seat, ducking down to stay as low as possible. Curse the darkness, for you didn’t notice that one darn kid whose foot was sticking partially out into the walkway, and you trip over it. You gasp, bracing yourself for the hard ground, but you only feel something strong in front of you, holding you inches from the ground. 
Your eyes open, seeing the ground in front of you. Your head turns, and it’s Jaehyun. He was conveniently sitting on the end where you tripped and luckily stuck out his arm to catch you. His eyes are full of concern, staring at you. People are whispering all around, you think Jaehyun silently mouths a question to you. 
You squeeze your eyes shut, get a freakin grip y/n!!, before detaching yourself from him and quickly walking out-you’re not sure what exactly happened- it was too dark, and you were too embarrassed. You briskly walk into your classroom, shutting the door behind you. 
You let out a silent scream. Did you really just trip and fall in front of a bunch of students!?!?? You slowly breathe in and out, collecting yourself. It was dark. Maybe some people didn’t see. You remember the whispers and stares, cringing. 
You’re not surprised when during the next period, all your students are talking. Probably definitely about you and Mr. Jung. You’re furiously typing away on your keyboard, trying to drown out the sounds of the kids gossiping. “Miss y/l/n,” one kid says. 
“Yes?” you call out distractedly. “Are you interested in anyone?” Wow, way to be discreet. Your typing comes to a cease, but you don’t look up. “Well, I’d hope not, since I already have a husband.”
Immediately gasps and whispers break out. You continue typing and clicking away. “B-but Miss y/l/n... I.. I thought you said you didn’t have a boyfriend??” “Yeah, I don’t have a boyfriend anymore. We got married so I have a husband now.” The students remained shell-shocked for the rest of the day until they’re released from school. They run out, probably to spread the news that you’re actually married. 
Once everyone’s out, you sigh and examine your desk. You pick up the small photograph (that no one noticed apparently) of you and your husband. The two of you were red-cheeked and had identical shining grins on both of your faces. You smile, the happy memory fresh on your mind. 
Suddenly someone knocks on the door before opening it. Your head turns around to see Jaehyun. He steps into your classroom, looking around. “What are you doing?” he asks. You grin. “Just looking at an old picture..” Cocking his head, he asks, “And what picture might that be?” 
You place the photograph down before walking over to him and placing your arms around his neck. “Hmm.. I think you should know. After all, you were in it.” He laughs before leaning down to kiss you. 
You met Jaehyun in college, both of you wanting to become teachers. You started as friends until all your friends kept commenting on how good the two of you looked together. At first, you laughed it off, but over time, you started thinking about how it would be like if you actually started dating him. And apparently him too. I mean, he was handsome, kind, polite, your mom LOVED him.. so what kept you from liking him so much?  
You went over to his apartment (now your shared apartment) one night for a celebration after finishing finals. “Ughhhhd,” you groan, throwing your bag on his couch. Jaehyun smiles, looking at you from the kitchen. “Rough day?” You nod, slowly walking over to examine what he was doing. “What are you cooking?” He chops some veggies. “Noodles. But healthy.” 
You make a confused expression. “What kind of healthy noodles now?” Jaehyun laughs at the look on your face, not paying attention to the knife and cutting his finger. “Ow!” he hisses. Your eyes widen, walking over to him and grabbing his hand. Examining the cut, you see blood well up. Immediately you bring his hand to the sink, turning on warm water and running his finger under it. 
You look up at him, slightly annoyed and amused at the same time. “Jaehyun. How did you just cut yourself right in front of me?” He scratches the back of his head sheepishly. You drag him over to his couch, sitting him down as you grab his first aid kit. 
Rummaging through it, you hear him say, “Y/n, it’s not a big deal. It’s just a cut you know..” Huffing, you respond, “Just a cut my ass, you didn’t sound like it. Now shut up and let me take care of you.” Grabbing the medicine, you sit closer to him and take his hand. 
You carefully put on the ointment and wrap the bandaging around it. Finished, you look up to see his face extremely close to yours, already staring at you. You raise your eyebrows, cheeks reddening. “Uh-“ but Jaehyun’s hand that reaches for yours silence you. “I was distracted by you.” 
You open your mouth, but no words come out. He continues, “I was too busy looking at you to pay attention.” You gulp. “Why?” You notice him lick his lips before responding. “Because I like you. Isn’t that obvious?” You’re shocked. This guy? No, he wasn’t even a guy, this fine man... liked you? You can’t even get a word out as he places his lips on yours. You immediately move your hands to his hair, feeling the soft strands. 
Breaking apart, he chuckles. “So I guess that means you’ll be my girlfriend?” You pretend to think for a second, before saying, “I guess... if you’ll finish making time dinner.” Jaehyun freezes. “Oh shoot. The noodles!!” 
After that, the two of you dated until graduation when he proposed. You didn’t cry. You still insist on that to this day. You didn’t purposely apply to the same school he was teaching at, the offer just came up, and it was convenient that you could go to work together. (Strangely, no one saw you two when you arrived at school) And you don’t know why you never told anyone about your relationship, no one really asked, and you both just kinda went along with it. No one assumed anything, probably because you preferred being called by your last name instead of his. You just liked it more, and Jaehyun didn’t mind. That is until the whole school started pairing you two. 
The memory resurfaces in your mind as you sit in Jaehyun’s lap, snuggling comfortably as the TV blares in the background. You smile, and he notices, pinching your side. “What’re you smiling about?” You bury your face in his neck as you say a muffled response. “Nothing.” 
You continue watching whatever’s on the tv until you suddenly ask, “Do you think the students know yet or?” Jaehyun shifts, tightening his arms around you. “Nahh, my students feel bad for me. They think I don’t know anything and still have a crush on you.” Your head shoots up from his chest. “And you don’t?” you ask indignantly. He laughs, sitting up. “What?” 
You don’t know why you suddenly become embarrassed. Looking down, you fiddle with the end of his shirt. “Have a crush on me?” There’s a moment of silence where Jaehyun stares at you. He bursts out laughing before grabbing your hands and pulling you back into him. Kissing the top of your head, he responds, “Y/n, we’ve been married for almost a year now. Yes, I always have a crush on you.. idiot.” 
“I had to make sure!”  
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localgenius · 3 years
Text
Her Favourite Story
Thank you so much for liking my first fic! It’s wild to think about people liking what I’m writing, but it makes me very happy! So all the love to all of you guys!
A story about the domestic life Spencer longs for when the team is away on cases, aka more fluff - this time featuring a small baby Reid. I’ve done so that this story sort of exists in the same universe as ‘To Love’, but they don’t really have anything to do with each other.
tw: mentions of dead children (regarding a case)
Spencer Reid x fem!reader (3.5k)
The staircase had seemed to have become miles longer over the duration of the past eight months. The creaking wood gave way under his feet as he shuffled to the side to avoid running into a man that he recognized to be living a floor above him.
His satchel was bouncing heavily against his side as he hurried up the seemingly endless amounts of steps. The many files were weighing him down, keeping him from reaching the end goal in the desired time.
His jacket was hanging loosely around his shoulders, keeping him warm from the winter cold that had managed to creep into the hallway from the constant revolving door and the small cracks that lathered the building.
His eyes were still droopy from the mediocre nap he had gotten on the plane ride home from the latest case.
A family annihilator had been tormenting a small suburban town outside of Detroit, and while cases regarding children had always been a bit tougher, this one had hit closer to home than he’d originally anticipated.
There had been something about watching young children lying dead in a basement, a brother and sister together in their last moments, that had him craving the sweet serenity that filled apartment 24 in the old apartment complex.
It had been over a year ago since the team had had to handle a case like this, and for the first time, he finally understood; he understood the melancholy look in Hotch’s eyes when they briefed before flying off, he understood the silent tears JJ shed on the plane home. He finally got it.
The landing had never been a sweeter sight than right then. His feet were practically bouncing on the last few steps before hurrying to stick the key in the lock.
A warmth, that could never be replaced by a jacket, greeted him as soon as he stepped through the threshold. The late afternoon sun was shining through the windows, making tiny specks of dust swirling around visible, feeding the numerous plants on the windowsill and making her look even more ethereal than usual.
He didn’t even know that that was possible. But really, he shouldn’t be surprised. Everything about her had surprised him from the day they first met.
Her gentle voice was talking in a low mumble, probably telling one of the many stories she had memorized over the last eight months. She had argued that she refused to be put on the side-line when it came to story time, simply because he had an eidetic memory.
She simply wouldn’t have it.
So, she had spent months lying on the couch, simply reading and memorizing all the books that JJ and Penelope had brought over.
And it had finally paid off.
Because, more often than not, Spencer would find his wife walking around the apartment, murmuring sweet fairytales, fables or research articles while staring down at a big pair of eyes that matched her own to a tee.
At the sound of the door gently being pushed shut, her attention was dragged away from the big eyes, to see a pair of brown staring at her with the utmost adoration.
“Look who’s here!” she whispered down to the sweet boy in her arms, “Is it daddy?”
She turned her body towards Spencer, slowly moving her way graciously around the couch, down to the front entrance.
“Is daddy home?” she giggled down at the baby, a big smile on her face when the baby provided gurgles of joy from the familiar word.
“Oh yes,” Spencer groaned, quickly pulling his satchel off of his shoulder and messily hanging his jacket on the coat rack, before moving to meet his loves halfway. “Daddy's home.”
When the baby finally got a proper look at him, a joyous shriek left the spit covered lips and arms were already reaching out in the open air.
“Hi bug, hi,” Spencer smiled when he finally got to get the sweet baby in his arms, letting the small being thaw up any coldness that had possessed his body over the past few days.
Big eyes and an even bigger smile were looking up at him, while arms were reaching up to touch his face.
“Hi daddy,” she smiled at him, letting one of her hands fall to the back of the baby, while the other came to tangle in the curls in the back of his head, dragging his lips down to meet hers in a gentle kiss.
“Hi mummy,” he smiled down at her, and let himself bask in the harmonious moment. A baby that was happily mumbling to himself in his arms and his wife at his side, with a gentle hand running through his messy curls.
“Good flight?” she asked softly, while rubbing the hand on their sons back up and down.
“Mediocre at best,” Spencer responded while entertaining the small baby in his arms. His eyes were big and enamoured while he was watching his daddy pull funny faces crossing his eyes. “What story were you telling him?”
“Just a little love story,” his wife happily told him, leaving his side with a quick kiss to his cheek, and a final kiss to the baby’s fine hair.
“Mummy told you a love story, huh?” Spencer mumbled down to the baby, moving to follow his wife through the apartment to the kitchen. “Mummy has always had a fondness for those hasn’t she?”
“Oh yes she has,” he heard his wife say from where she was standing with her head in the fridge. “They are the best stories to tell.”
“That can be discussed,” Spencer mumbled down to the baby, happily accepting the slap to the back of his head as he moved to sit down at one of the kitchen chairs. The baby was still looking at him with big eyes, a smile revealing the growing teeth. “What story was it this time?”
“My favourite,” she said as she was moving around behind him.  “A tale about a boy and a girl that loved each other very much.”
A small smile started to break out on Spencer’s face. He knew this story all too well. He knew the ins and the outs. The plot twists and the cliff-hangers. “Yeah?” he asked breathlessly as he looked back at her over his shoulder.
She was moving around, digging through cabinets to get pots and pans out on the stove. “Hm,” she hummed in agreement.
“Would you mind sharing it with the group?”
She laughed softly, turning to look at him over her shoulder. He sat so innocently in the wooden chair – one they had been talking about donating because he insisted that it was the source of his frequent back pain – with their innocent baby resting on his chest, and big brown eyes nearly on the verge of begging.
“It’s a tale as old as time really,” she started, while moving around to start chopping up vegetables from the fridge. “There was this girl, who was so tired of being alone and was just waiting for a boy that was willing to spare an ounce of love on her.”
While she was telling the story, Spencer couldn’t help himself from falling in love with her all over again. The light green sweater falling loosely around her shoulders, her favourite pair of jeans, mismatched socks and glasses perched on the tip of the nose completed the look of a new mum.
He had foolishly thought that she couldn’t ever be prettier than she was on their wedding day, but for once he was happy to be proven wrong, when she had laid in the hospital bed with their new-born resting tenderly on her chest. And from every day since then, she had a special glow around her.
The mummy glow, as he liked to call it. Everything about her radiated love, it had from the very first time they met, but it seemed to only have grown from the moment she had brought their son into the world.
“And when she was ready to give up, an angel in disguise came by and said that she knew a boy that was so willing to give out the love he had inside of him. She only had to go out and have dinner with him, and the girl could see so for herself,” she was mindlessly talking as she was cutting up an onion, taking occasional breaks to look up to the ceiling to avoid crying too much.
“So, she put on her prettiest dress, and went to the restaurant the angel had told her about. And in there was the boy. The boy who was more than willing to love her, and the girl was so happy. Because she finally had the love she had always dreamed about.”
Spencer was gently rocking the baby in his arms; the gentle hum of his mother’s voice lulling him into a light slumber.
“And about a year and a half later,” she continued before being interrupted by a soft mumbling.
“One year, six months and 14 days.”
“Right,” she turned around from the cutting board, “sorry. And a year, six months and 14 days later the boy asked the girl to marry him. And the girl was so happy.” Spencer could hear the smile in her voice, his own mind going back to the evening, where they both ended up with tears in their eyes, and a ring sitting in its rightful place after weeks hidden away.
“And then the boy and girl got married, and all of their friends and family were there to celebrate with them. And the girl had never felt so much love for a person in her entire life,” she continued softly, remembrance seeking out of every word passing her lips.
Spencer moved to get up, making sure the baby was securely pressed to his chest as he made his way over to the kitchen counter she was standing by.
“That was of course until the girl found out that she was pregnant.”
She glanced at her two loves, both eagerly listening to the story.
“Nine months later the girl gave birth to the most beautiful baby boy in the world. And in that moment the girl realized that nothing could ever top the love she had for her beautiful baby. And so, the girl, who once was so sad and lonely, suddenly had a husband whom she loved dearly, and a small baby boy that she loved more than life itself.”
When she finished the story, she leaned over and pressed a delicate kiss to the top of the baby’s head, before leaning up and giving her husband one.
“That’s a very good story,” he mumbled against her lips.
“Thank you,” she laughed as they pulled apart, her focus going back to the vegetables. “It’s one of my absolute favourites.”
-
Light snowflakes were dancing around outside of the window, the yellow light from the streetlamps highlighting them like ballerinas on a stage.
The chill had seeped its way into the small room, making goosebumps rise on the back of his neck, yet the cold was the furthest thing on his mind.
At the forefront was the small baby, who was sleeping peacefully in the wooden crib. His small onesie covered chest was moving up and down with the deep breaths, helping to calm Spencer’s mind.
The nightlight was shining from its place on the bookcase, that was already overflowing despite only having been used for eight months.
Small coos left the baby, and the small arms moved to stretch over his head, before resting back again in a peaceful sleeping position. The small tongue came to stick out past his lips, something she said always reminded her of his father.
Spencer let a small smile tug on his lips, before he moved up from the chair, lingering by the crib for just a small moment, soaking up all the love he felt from the small baby.
Before he could move away from the crib, he heard the wooden door creek open, and before he knew it, he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist, taking a firm grip on the dark blue cardigan he was wearing.
“Tough case?” she mumbled against his shoulder, letting her lips rest there and giving the spot an occasional kiss or two.
Spencer moved to interlock their fingers, and letting their arms wrap tightly around him, letting the security of her arms prevent him from falling apart.
“Yeah,” he whispered, tears already burning in the corner of his eyes.
He felt her lean her head against his shoulder, hearing her taking a deep breath in before she started talking again. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Spencer let out a deep breath before shaking his head.
“Spence,” she whispered, slowly removing her arms from his, helping him turn around to face him.
His brown eyes were glistening with unshed tears, yet they seemed as lovely as ever in the light of the streetlamps, the nightlight and the glowing moon. His nose was scrunching up in a way she knew meant that he was fighting to not let the stream of tears fall.
“We made a deal,” she whispered to him, moving closer so they stood chest to chest, hands interlocked by their sides. “When Noah was born, we made a deal, that you wouldn’t keep all of this in anymore.”
Spencer lifted his eyes to the ceiling when he felt the tears make their escape, choosing to focus on the glow-in-the-dark stars that lithered the ceiling instead of the concerned eyes of his wife.
“Spencer,” she said a bit more sternly, tugging on their locked hands to draw his attention back to her.
“It was kids,” he finally mumbled, closing his eyes and let his head fall to rest against hers. “Just small kids.”
She let go of his hands in order to wrap her arms around his shoulders, hoping to help him stay together for just a little longer. Hoping to make him feel okay for just a little longer.
One of her hands buried itself in the tangle of curls, while the other was rubbing soothing patterns on his shoulder blades – the same way she did to their son when he was upset.
“One of them was called Noah,” he mumbled into her hair, squeezing her tightly around her waist. “He just looked so much like him it was scary, and we couldn’t save him.” Tears were falling freely now, a lump clogging his throat. “I couldn’t save him.”
“Oh, Spence,” she mumbled softly, tightening her arms around him. “It’s gonna be okay.”
“It’s just,” he started as he slowly pulled away, only to drag her into his side as he looked down at the sleeping baby, “we haven’t had a case revolving kids since he was born. And then I saw him; he looked like he was sleeping. And all I could think about was our Noah; our Noah that falls asleep to your stories and that giggles every time I do a magic trick.”
He could feel her eyes on him, while his were solely focused on the sleeping baby.
“And I got to thinking,” he started, savouring the feeling of his wife pressing herself closer to his side, “what if, at one point, I can’t save him? What if I can’t save you?”
“Hey now,” Y/N reached up and directed his line of sight to her, ensuring that his mind wouldn’t drift away to a dark place, like it had a tendency to do. “That’s never going to happen, okay? You’re his daddy okay? And he knows that his daddy always will protect him.”
Spencer squeezed his eyes shut and sniffled, tuning his ears into the sound of deep breaths coming from his son, and the gentle soothing voice of his wife.
“It’s just,” he started to mumble, afraid to let her open the door to the deepest darkest corner of his mind, “sometimes I wonder if it’s all worth it.”
With his eyes till squeezed shut, he let himself go in the feeling of her rubbing her soft fingers up and down his cheeks. The smell of her perfume and baby shampoo filled his nose, making the deep, scary corner of his mind seem further and further away.
“What do you mean,” she inquired softly, letting her head fall to the crook of his neck.
“I see so much evil every day, and sometimes it's hard to shut it out when I get home. And I’m gone for days at a time, sometimes not home for weeks. And I guess it was fine when it was just me. But then you came along,” he leaned down and let his lips ghost over her ear, while whispering his confessions to her. “You came, and suddenly it was harder leaving, but you’ve always insisted that you were fine with me leaving.”
“Because I am,” she whispered into his neck, slowly starting to rock them from side to side.
“I know,” he mumbled sweetly, “And then Noah came along, and now I’m terrified that I’ll miss everything. That I’ll miss watching him grow up, because I was too busy chasing down monsters, and that it’ll only drag me further away from you – from him.”
Y/N pulled her face from the crook of his neck, and gently grasped the sides of his face, before leaning up to give him a slow, deep kiss.
They just stood like that for a while, a boy and a girl, so in love with each other that nothing else really seemed to matter.
“Spencer Reid,” she mumbled against his lips, refusing to even let the space of an atom come between them. “You are the best man I’ve ever known. You are the best husband and the best dad that I could ever wish for for our son.”
His eyes remained closed, but more tears started to trail down his cheeks again, only to be kissed away by a pair of soft lips.
“You’re his hero,” she told him softly. “Even though he’s not old enough to know what a hero is,” they laughed softly as she spoke, “he cries every time you leave, and gets excited every time you come back home. And I swear, that no matter what bedtime fairy tales I tell him, nothing will ever beat the plethora of stories I can tell him about his daddy.”
They pulled apart, and she dragged him over to stand by the side of the wooden crib, soft breaths filling the silence.
“This is why what you do is worth it,” she said, letting her hand rub up and down his back, as he let one of his big hands gently smooth over the frail hairs on his little head. “Every day, when you and that amazing team of yours chase down monsters, you make the world a little bit brighter. A little bit safer for our Noah to grow up in.
“You show him what it means to be good, to fight for what you believe in. And if that means that you have to travel a lot, then so be it. Because the passion you have for saving other people, for helping those in need is what made me fall in love with you. And that will never change.”
One of her hands went down and squeezed the tiny onesie covered foot that was flailing around in his dreams.
“But if you decide to leave it behind, to find something else to do, then I support you. Always. And so will he,” she giggled the last part, releasing the tiny foot to wrap both of her arms around Spencer’s midsection.
“I love you,” he mumbled down to her, his nose nuzzling into the crown of her head.
“I love you too,” she smiled up at him, but was quick to turn her attention to the crib when a soft cry was released. “And you,” she said, her mummy voice immediately being activated, “I love you so very much.”
She let her arms fall from his waist in order to pick Noah up, his cries immediately subsiding by the comfort of his mother’s arms.
“Why are we crying, huh?” she whispered softly, letting her lips brush against the soft temple, as Noah slowly relaxed into her chest. “Mummy’s here, Daddy’s here, Noah’s here,” she said as she started to rock him back and forth. “You wanna go to daddy?”
Spencer happily accepted the small baby into his arms, letting his nose bury in Noah’s hair, welcoming the smell of innocence that filled him.
“Daddy’s right here,” he mumbled, bouncing the baby up and down slowly, just the way he knows help him fall back into a slumber.
“Do you want to take him to bed?” Y/N asked, looking at both of her boys with the uttermost love in her eyes.
“Yeah,” he nodded, eyes never leaving the small baby that was slowly, but surely, falling back to sleep.
“Then let’s go to sleep daddy,” she said, turning the nightlight off, and starting to guide them out of the door and down the hallway to their bedroom. “I have an inkling that sleep will do you some good.”
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k-s-morgan · 3 years
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Hi! This isn’t an ask, but more of a rambling that I deemed too long for the comments, that stems from your post claiming Book of Circus as your favourite Black Butler episodes. and to that I say - YES. Book of Murder is a masterpiece. It houses one of my favourite scenes - the one where Sebastian says: "This wasn't a scenario decided by God or fate, but one decided on by my master, with timing decided by my master. I was killed by the criminal expected by my master, by the Hione who came to torment my master", which really captures the essence of whole 'Ciel vs God' dynamic that's woven into the duration of the show.
Throughout the plot, there are three major instances in which an offering is made to Ciel - offerings of redemption. The first is from Angela - a chance to purify himself and have an afterlife - which he so vehemently rejects in the knowledge that he quite literally *is* his darkness, and therefore refuses to rid himself of it.
The second is comes from Abberline in his death, where in his final words he tells Ciel he has a chance to take back his future. And Ciel has to watch him die with the knowledge that he has already made up his mind about his fate. I don't think he's so affected because he regrets selling his soul. I don't think he suddenly wants to live, or no longer wishes for revenge. But I believe the reason he is so affected by Abberline's death is because he holds a sentimentality for him that is not dissimilar to the one he feels for Elizabeth. Ciel is cruel, I don't think he regrets the steps he has taken to get to this point, nor the ones he knows he must take in the future. But though he is cruel, I believe he has a sort of fond curiosity for the untainted goodness that characterises those like Abberline and Elizabeth. Like you said before, he feels condescension towards the man perhaps due to the naivety his blind heroism implies, but I think his attachments to him come from an underlying curiosity to see if such goodness can exist in such a corrupted world - a silent hope to be proven wrong in his cynicism. When Abberline dies, that very hope he didn't even know he had gets shattered. It brings about a sort of forced perspective that makes Ciel question himself in ways we haven't seen before.
Abberline's death had been avoidable and it was certainly in vain. Abberline had died for someone who had already made up his mind - someone who had rejected God once before and would do it time and time again as proven in the anime. Ciel is such an interesting character because, although he is dark, he still values the light and makes some sort of effort to preserve it in spite of the contempt he feels for them. It is the thought of dying in vain that seems to bother him so greatly, not death itself. No, Abberline dying isn't enough for him to want to live again, or to even think about throwing away his revenge - that was never in question. But it is enough to extinguish the lingering flicker of hope he had for humanity (despite being so distanced from term himself).
This, combined with the disappointment he feels at Sebastian's actions, causes the existential haze of uncertainty that leads to the third and final offering. And the most surprising thing is that this offering comes from Sebastian himself. He senses the doubt in Ciel and, like every thought the boy experiences, fails to understand it. He mistakes it for him second-guessing his revenge and decides to discontinue their contract. But he isn't angry - that much is clear. Instead, he wishes him to "forget everything and have pleasant dreams", with a rather wistful expression on his face. What this line ends up reading as is a bittersweet  goodbye from the demon - an offering for Ciel to let go of his revenge and find happiness in the afterlife with his now soon approaching death.  There is almost a strong disappointment in him, but is not resentful of it - Ciel is human and he can't keep expecting him not to be. His offering almost acts as a thank you for the moments of excitement their contract had given his monotone life and I believe that is why he makes it.
He sticks around to see if Ciel accepts his offer, though already expecting him to, and is there to witness the very moment the boy rejects it. Gone is the uncertainty of Abberline's death and the Paris crisis, and Ciel, the Earl of Phantomhive, returns to him - sharper, colder, more ruthless than ever. Sebastian realises his misjudgement and returns to his side, ready for the final battle. Killing an angel. It's laughably symbolic.
The rejections of God, the evasion of the Hope Diamond's curse (where he even wore two rings as if to taunt the fates), the references in Book of Murder - they all depict this metaphorical sort of battle between Ciel and God. And the ending of Kuroshitsuji II is the depicts how he triumphs over fate, claiming his rightful place as an immortalised creature of Hell.
I know I've gone on a bit of a tangent here in your inbox, but that one quote from Book of Murder is so symbolic to me in the way it sets up the comparison between Ciel and God (in which 'God' represents power over fate).
Before I sign off, though, I just want to make light of the existence of the show's final offering, occurring in the last few minutes of the series. This last offering has nothing too do with God, nothing to do with any complex battle between the Phantomhive and fate, but is much simpler than that. In fact, the final offering of the show comes from Ciel, and he gives it to Sebastian - it's almost poetic, is it not?
"Are you sure you don't want to pull it any tighter?"
In this single, unassuming line, Ciel is asking Sebastian if he wants to kill him, and release himself from the eternal contract they've found themselves in. Such a noble and dignified soul as Ciel would always be sure to make through on his word and, despite the loophole that now extends their contract, he would still be willing to let Sebastian kill him should he wish to do so. The man may no longer be able to take his soul, but the boy can still give the order to kill him and free himself. Ciel's respect for Sebastian is complex and contradictory at times, but what never changes is his willingness to die by his hands and see through to his side of the contract.
“Is it over? The one who plunged me into bottomless darkness… I don’t even know why she did it.”
In the episode where Angela is crushed by the Church, Ciel offers his soul to Sebastian. Even when unsatisfied with the result, his unwavering nobility led him to make good on their deal and fulfil his end of the contract. The earl faced the demon, his expression calm, and with a steady voice said “A promise is a promise. Take it.”
This unwavering dignity and nobility he holds in himself I believe is the reason for this offering and Sebastian's turn to reject it is almost a 'love confession' (as you have brought me to see it) in itself.
As a final sort of note - I just wanted to let you know that, since reading your reply to my comment on TGSTLTH (from a while ago), I brought myself to rewatch Kuroshitsuji II with your interpretation in mind and ended up really enjoying it. You've singlehandedly made me do a complete 180 on a season I previously hated - looks like I had just watched it from the wrong perspective. So, for that, I thank you
Hey! Sorry for getting to your ask just now. I absolutely loved it :D And yes, Book of Murder is a masterpiece - I still remember watching it for the first time. It was late at night, I had to go to bed, everyone was sleeping, but I kept watching because stopping just wasn't an option, I had to know what happened next.
Ciel vs God is such an interesting topic. In some ways, Ciel and Sebastian exist in their own universe where there is no place for anyone else. There is a God aka Ciel and a demon aka Sebastian. And they are both allies and adversaries at the same time - they are tormenting each other and uniting to torment others.
I agree absolutely that Ciel holds a fondness for certain people, with Lizzy and Abberline being a good example. He has a degree of contempt and irritation for them, but they do mean something to him. Ciel's curiosity is a big and detached thing, and this places him on Sebastian's level in such an interesting way because sometimes it's almost like Ciel isn't human himself - humanity intrigues him as if he doesn't belong to it. His fascination with the light just underlines his affinity with the darkness.
I have many thoughts about Ciel's behavior during the days following Abberline's death, and you certainly introduced many excellent points! My general opinion on Ciel's motives is... complicated. I agree that he never felt like really giving up his revenge and trying to live a 'happy' life - he knew it's not for him at that stage already. However, I feel like Abberline's parting words affected him a lot, even if briefly. When Abberline tells him that he can start everything from the beginning, Ciel sounds absolutely heartbroken when he confesses, "I don't have a future." The way he acts later, telling Sebastian to stop and not kill the angel, hesitating, reinforces this idea to me. I think you described it best - Ciel is having an existential crisis. It's not like he suddenly regrets his decisions, but he's temporary unanchored and unsure what he wants and what he should do. Having a dream where Abberline urges him to give up his hatred also seems to affect Ciel, but it's so telling that he wakes up and immediately says, "Sebastian." It's a fascinating arc and I can't wait to explore it.
I love your words about three offerings - so true. And I'm so happy you liked S2 when watching it from a new perspective! I used to be so confused as to why people hated it: it's not perfect, but I thought it was amazing in many ways, especially its bittersweet ending.
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accioprozac · 3 years
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Hi love! Could I request a George x Slytherin reader? Maybe she’s a bit of an outcast in her house and she’s the twins best friend but George is madly in love with her. She’s just oblivious to his feelings until someone pulls a mean prank on her and he gets in a fight to defend her before confessing his feelings while she cleans up his cuts in the bathroom💕
Loyal as a Lion : George Weasley x Reader
Summary: Lions protect those they love, and George is no exception. (aka, in which George throws hands because Malfoy is being a git to you)
Warnings: Mentions of fighting and injury
Author’s Note: Ahhh it’s been so long since I’ve posted, thank you everyone for being patient with me!
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It was no secret that although Slytherin was your house, it wasn’t your home. You were a muggleborn and the other Slytherins treated you like the filth beneath their shoes.
As you walk down the corridors, Draco Malfoy brushed past you roughly, “Get out of my way you filthy mudblood,” he hissed, his aristocratic face was twisted in disgust as he glared at you.
You mumbled some choice words under your breath, quickly trying to distance yourself from him. He grabs your wrist before you can melt into the crowd, “What did you say?” He asked, voice dangerously low.
You stumbled away from his painfully tight grasp, spilling all your books on the floor with a loud bang. “I said, I’d rather be a ‘filthy mudblood” instead of a pompous cowardly arse,” you spit, channeling an inner bravery you didn’t know you possessed.
He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Fred and George came up behind you. “Having any trouble?” George asked, looking at you in concern while Fred gathered your books.
You gave them both a thankful look, “Nope, just having a friendly chat with Malfoy here.”
Malfoy gave the twins a weary look and subconsciously touched his nose, remembering the disasterous match in 5th year.
“Well,” George said pleasantly, “I’ll walk you to your next class. Wouldn’t want you to catch the fleas that Malfoy picked up while he was a ferret.”
“Oh yeah!” Fred interjected, “Remember that Malfoy? Fake Moody turned you into a white ferret? He bounced you up and down and up and down until McGonogall stopped him? Reckon it was the highlight of my 6th year.”
Draco glared, “Blood traitors sticking up for a mudblood? No suprise there. Especially since you’re fucking at least one of them.”
All three of your faces flush at the implication, Fred and George have murderous expressions on their faces.
Malfoy turns and stalks off, dissapearing into the sea of students.
“That little-” George huffed, he looks at you and his face softens, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
“He grabbed my wrist pretty hard,” you shrugged, showing him the light bruises forming on your inner wrist.
“I’m going to kill him,” George declares loudly, his expression thunderous, and Fred nodded in agreement. Some passing students gave the twins weird looks.
“Don’t bother, he’s not worth it,” you sigh, “And it’ll just make everything worse.”
After making the twins promise not to do anything, George walks you to class.
The rest of the day is uneventful. At mealtime, you sit alone like always. Sometimes, Fred and George would try to sit with you at the Slytherin table, but it always resulted in them getting detention and being sent back to their own tables.
George walks you back to your dorm, like always. He started in your 2nd year when the Chamber of Secrets had been opened and has done it ever since.
When you walk into your dorm, all the chatter abruptly cuts off. The other girls stare at you and start whispering behind their hands, making barely any effort to keep their voices quiet. Pansy Parkinson looks about you and scowls, crossing her arms.
You silently get ready for bed, trying to get away from the prying eyes and judgmental glares of your peers.
The next day, you wake up feeling strangely refreshed. You go to change into your robes, but as you’re unfolding them, you notice something.
“Mudblood” was scrawled in big, red letters on the back of the robe.
“Scourifgy,” you point your wand at the robe, but nothing happens. You let out a growl of frustration and discard the robe onto your bed.
You sigh and weigh the pros and cons of wearing one of your out of school outfits. You’d surely get detention for being out of uniform, but the alternative was much worse.
Pulling out your favourite sweater, you find that it also has “Mudblood” on it. You start to search through your closing, growing increasingly frantic when shirt after shirt are all marred with the slur.
Settling for the robe, you quickly walk to class, keeping your back to the wall. Draco slams into you and you fall face first on the floor, the ugly, red “Mudblood” on display for all to see.
“You did this,” you accuse, your face burning with shame.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says smoothly.
Pansy Parkinson shoulders through the crowd and when she sees you, she laughs. “Good one, Draco.”
You can hear some people snickering and some others gaze upon you with pity.
George stumbles toward you, he’s breathing hard and sweat shines on his forehead. “What the fuck is going on?”
He catches sight of you, curled up on the floor as if you’re trying to shrink. Misery paints your face and your eyes lack the brightness they usually hold. George scans the crowd quickly, trying to look for the cause of your pain.
He locks eyes with Malfoy and before you could say “quidditch,” the two were rolling on the floor, each fighting for the upper hand.
Both boys get in quit a few punches before Flickwit Impediments them. Flitwick looks at you before zeroing in on your robe. He looks at George, and then looks at Draco, quickly putting together what had happened.
“Mr. Malfoy, with me,” he says sternly and Malfoy tries to protest, but is cut off with a sharp look.
The crowd disperses and you and George are left standing in the empty corridor. His lip is split and he has a dark bruise on his jaw. His hands are cut up and beginning to bruise.
You sigh, “George, come with me.”
He silently follows you, raising an eyebrow when you pull him into the girl’s bathroom.
You summon some basic medical supplies and set them on the counter. Instructing him not to move, you start to tend to his wounds.
“You’re an idiot,” you say affectionalty, “You know that, right?” You gently wiped the blood away from a particularly nasty cut under his eye, causing George to wince.
“That’s not very nice,” he pouts exaggeratedly.
You two lapse into a comfortable silence, occasionally punctuated with a hiss of pain followed for a soft “sorry.”
“Why’d you do it?” you ask.
“Do what?”
“Fight Malfoy.”
“Because he’s a git,” George shrugs.
“You shouldn’t have done that. You’re lucky that Flitwick didn’t get you in trouble. It wasn’t worth it,” you say, finishing up on his face and moving onto his hands.
“Not worth it?” He asked incredulously, “He wrote ‘mudblood’ on your school robe!”
You shrug, “That’s what I am though.”
George gently urges you to look at him and when you do, his eyes are earnest, “You’re not, and don’t ever call yourself again. You may be muggleborn but you an amazing witch and you don’t deserve to have to put up with assholes like Malfoy.”
“Amazing?” you ask, teasingly.
George blushed, “Yeah, you’re pretty amazing.”
You bite your lip, unable to tear your gaze away from him. George’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows nervously.
“Can I-?” he starts.
You cut him off, “Yes.”
Tilting your chin up, he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. You grab onto his biceps to steady yourself and George’s hands cup your face lovingly.
“Ouch,” he yelped, pulling away from you and touching his lip.
“I’m so sorry,” you say, mortified.
“It’s fine,” George brushes it off. “Make it up to me by accompanying me to Hogsmeade this weekend?” His voice is confident and smooth, but you can see the nervousness in his eyes.
You press a small kiss to his nose and smile, “Of course.”
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tangledstarlight · 3 years
Text
hello. if you’ve followed me for more then a week you may have seen me talking abuot the alex 5+1 and how its been torturing me for months. well. it is finally done. i think i deserve a reward to myself. 
but yes okay. it’s 5 times alex had just the right thing in his fanny pack +1 time that he didn’t.
anyway!! it’s another 5+1 that’s alex centric.
also on ao3 (link in replies!)
trigger warnings! death mentions (because they’re ghosts), mild swearing, mentions of blood and injuries but nothing graphic.
one.
On his tenth birthday his parents took him to the mall and told him he could pick out anything that he wanted from one store, courtesy of his grandparents. Which, for a ten year old, was a big decision to make. Because there were a lot of things that he wanted.
Alex had dragged them from shop to shop, looking through every piece of clothing, every accessory, every record and tape. There were a lot of things to choose from. He really hated having to make a decision.
It was pure luck when he finally found the thing he wanted. Tucked away behind backpacks and satchel bags and flimsy looking tote bags, Alex found the fanny pack. It was dark grey and made a funny sound when he scratched at the material with his nails. It was also the perfect size to fit his inhaler and a snack and a pen and, if he did it right, probably even a single drum stick.
(The brand new and shiny drum kit currently sitting in his garage at home was his main birthday present, and Alex was more than excited for Luke and Reggie and Bobby to come over later and see it, and now he could show them his new fannypack and they could fill it with all the essentials that ten year olds needed.)
Everyday he woke up and got dressed, the fanny pack would find its way buckled across his chest and he’d check it had everything he needed inside. Inhaler and tissues and crumpled up dollar bills and a pen and a snack, just in case. Because Reggie always got hungry and there were only so many times they could bother their parents before they got annoyed.
They’re sitting in tree house that Reggie’s dad had built – back when Reggie’s dad and mom didn’t spend so much time fighting and his older brother was still around and Reggie didn’t flinch at doors banging – scraps of paper and forgotten homework scattered on the wood.
They’re supposed to be doing homework. Like they do every Saturday morning before they all give in to Luke’s pouting and bike over to Bobby’s place to ‘rehearse’, (it’s more like, they’re all playing at the same time in different keys, but they’re eleven. A killer band isn’t created overnight.) but Luke hasn’t shown up yet and Reggie is on his third candy bar and Bobby gave up on maths homework in favour of his game boy. Alex would be more stressed about the turn of events if it didn’t happen every Saturday.
“Jump, jump, jump, dude! You gotta jump!”
“I know, you saying it over and over isn’t helping man,” Bobby grits out and Alex watches as Reggie hovers over his shoulder, eyes wide and practically hanging off his arm.
“Look out for – Oof. So close man. Shoulda jumped,” Reggie pats Bobby on the shoulder, just dodging as the other boy's elbow moves back to try and catch him in the ribs.
“I swear to god Reg –” Bobby starts and Alex is readying himself either to intervene or move out of the way when Luke’s head pops up through the hole on the floor, wide smile and messy hair and eyes gleaming with some kind of mischief.
“Guys!” They watch as he pulls himself up and into the tree house, they’re all knees bumping and elbows narrowly missing sides and Alex spends several long seconds worrying that this will be the day they no longer all fit. That they’ve finally outgrown the tree house. But then Luke shuffles back, dropping his backpack into the centre and Reggie bends one knee to rest his head on and Bobby drops his hands into his lap, game boy still beeping away.
“I had the best idea,” Luke starts, unzipping his bag and rummaging through it for something, “I was watching this film last night, right? I don’t know what it was, one of those weird ones that’s on at 2am. Not the point. Anyway so there was this group of friends right and they were all moving away and didn’t want to stop being friends so they did this blood pack? And Reggie,” he grunts as he pulls a textbook out of his bag and tosses it aside, Alex feels his brows pull together as he starts to follow Lukes train of thought, “The other day you said you were worried about us going up to middle school. So I thought why not do a blood pact?”
Luke still has his attention firmly on his bag, trying to find something, so he misses the alarmed look that Alex shoots at Bobby and the responding grin that graces Reggie’s face. He can see exactly how this will play out. Luke will make the first cut and Reggie will suddenly remember he doesn’t like the sight of blood and Bobby will go too deep and Alex will have to find a way to get the three of them down a tree without crying. 
“Dude, we can’t do a blood pact!”
“Why not?” Reggie asks, lips sliding down in a frown.
“Yeah, why not?” Luke echoes and he’s got half of something pulled out of his bag that Alex can’t identify. But it doesn’t look like a knife, so that’s a little reassuring.
“Because,” he starts slowly pointing first at Reggie, “You don't like the sight of blood for starters.”
Alex watches as Reggie’s mouth forms a small ‘o’, his head bobbing up and down as if he’d forgotten that fact, but Luke rolls his eyes and finally pulls his hand out of his bag and with it comes a carton of something.
“I know that, I didn’t mean a real blood pact,” he shakes his head and Alex blinks, thoroughly confused, “The blood bits’ not the important part, it’s just the whole y’know, promising we’ll always be friends. But we still need to do something kinda gross to make it meaningful, so I went and bought tomato juice. It’s why I was late.”
The grin is back on Reggie’s face and even Bobby is nodding along now. Alex looks from the cartoon in Luke's hands to his friends faces before blowing out a sigh because well. It wasn't the worst idea Luke had had and it would be nice. For them to make a pact, to always be friends. For nothing to change between them.
“How do we do this then?” He asks and it's worth it, giving in, to see the bright smile take over Lukes face as he launches into his plan.
Alex should have expected something to go wrong, it was sort of his job in the group. To worry. But he’d gotten so caught up in the moment, in the sentiments and little speeches Luke said they each had to make, that he forgot to worry about the next stage.
It almost happens in slow motion, Bobby reaches for the carton to take his drink at the same moment that Reggie tries to pass it to him and their hands sort of collide mid pass and suddenly the carton is tipping to the side and red liquid is cascading to the floor. All over their still scattered homework.
“Crap!” In his haste to try and stop the still spilled drink Reggie drops the thing entirely, sending even more of it pouring over the wood and creeping towards them. Luke makes a grab for the juice, trying to scoop it up in his hands and if Alex’s mind wasn’t halfway to panic, he’d have probably burst out laughing. On autopilot Alex’s hands reach up for the fanny pack across his chest, pulling the zipper and digging through for the new pack of tissues that he’d stuffed in there that morning. Almost like he knew something was going to happen.
All their homework is ruined – Alex can’t wait to explain this one to their teacher on Monday – and when they all climb down the tree an hour later they all watch as a trail of red slides down the bark. Despite the mess it had caused, Alex has to give it to Luke, the tomato juice really did look like blood. And he feels closer to his three best friends, which he guesses is worth using his whole supply of tissues.
two.
“Fuck!”
It’s not really the first thing Alex wants to hear as he steps into their rehearsal space. Aka Luke’s parent’s basement that they’d reluctantly agreed to let them use until Bobby’s parents agreed to let them clear out their garage. It was so annoying, waiting for their parents to agree to simple things.
His eyes glance around the mostly empty space, jumping from the fold up chairs and second hand amps and his drums and Reggie’s abandoned bass before landing on Bobby who’s kneeling on the ground near the back wall, guitar leaning against the chipped concrete.
“You okay?” Alex says and flinches when Bobby flinches, turning around quickly to look at him. Either Bobby was too wrapped up in whatever was wrong and hadn’t heard him or Alex had finally perfected walking silently and could start sneaking downstairs at night for a snack.
“I just–” he breathes out a sigh, gesturing helplessly at his guitar and for the first time Alex notices the missing string, “It snapped and I can’t get the new one on.”
“Oh,” that doesn’t really seem worth the tense set of Bobby’s shoulders or the slight shaking of his fingers as he tries to get the new string out of the packet. With a small frown Alex kneels down next to his friend and carefully takes the packet out of his hands. “Want some help?”
As soon as the strings are out of his hands Bobby seems to collapse a little, shoulder against the wall and head dropping with a soft thud, eyes following as he opens the pack. Of them all, Bobby is the most closed off about his feelings, which Alex supposes, isn’t actually that weird for a thirteen year old. But when Luke –- who’s never been able to keep emotions off his face or out of his songs -- and Reggie -- who is never shy about laying his head on your shoulder and telling you he’s sad -- are your friends, it gets a little weird. Even Alex knows he’s crap at hiding how he feels about stuff.
They're three open books with a locked vault.
Because Bobby has a special skill of hiding his feelings behind a mask of indifference and jokes that he’s never offered to teach them. Which is normally fine, but sometimes things leak through and one of them notices that somethings wrong, like right now. Alex has watched him restring his guitar without issue so many times before, never once have his fingers shook.
Chewing on his bottom lip, Alex tries to decide if he should push or just wait it out or ask when the others are around so he can’t avoid the question. His last option makes him frown, because he’d hate it if they did that to him. Put him on the spot about something. And what if there wasn’t even anything wrong and Alex was just overthinking it? Maybe Bobby was just tired, or this string was just particularly tricky?
“Dude, I can practically hear you thinking.” Bobby says, huffing out a shallow laugh and Alex’s eyes widen a little as he looks up in time to see him shuffle around so his back is against the wall, legs stretching out in front of him.
“Sorry,” Alex starts, hands freezing in the air.
“Nah it’s--” he shakes his head, one shoulder shrugging as he frowns at nothing, “It’s fine.”
Alex thinks that’s the end of it, that Bobby isn’t going to say anything else and he’ll just have to wait it out and pretend that something isn’t clearly wrong. Putting the string down he pulls his fanny pack around so he can reach the little pocket hidden on the back (he’s pretty sure you’re meant to keep money in it, but well, he rarely has more than a few dollars on him) and pulls out the little multi-tool that his dad had gotten him for Christmas. Something about ‘being a man now’ and how ‘you can help a cute girl out’. So far all he’d used it for was clipping strings and once to unscrew a vent when Luke accidentally pushed his notebook through.
“I think my parents are getting a divorce.”
That almost makes him choke on his own spit, head whipping around to look at Bobby and all thoughts of his dad leaving his head.
“What?” he doesn’t mean to say it so loud, but judging by the way Bobby winces he must have practically shouted it. “Sorry, I just--” he doesn’t know what to say, mouth opening wordlessly. None of them have the best home lives, all their relationships with their parents have their issues.
But Bobby’s have always been -- well not the most reliable, but most consistent. Together, but distant. Together, but not home each weekend. Together, but happy? Alex feels a little like his world view has been tilted. Because if anyone's parents should be getting a divorce, shouldn’t it be Reggie’s? He bites at his lip at the thought, instantly regretting it.
“Pretty sure my mom caught my dad sleeping with his secretary,” he says with a small frown, wiping his cheek across his shoulder and Alex drops the multi-tool on top of the string and shuffles his way across the floor until he’s sitting next to Bobby, backs against the wall. “Which is pretty fucking cliche of him. But yeah. I caught them fighting about it last night.”
Alex doesn’t know what to say or do. This isn’t exactly a conversation he’d come prepared for or thought he’d ever have to have. Alex was still trying to remember his new school schedule, he didn’t have the time to prepare for possible emotional family conversations. He wishes Luke was here, or Reggie, so he didn’t feel so much pressure to say the right thing.
“That sucks man,” he blows out a breath, drawing his knees up so he can rest his hands on his things, fingers tapping across his jeans. “You wanna stay at mine tonight? We can rent Back to the Future and eat my sisters stash of popcorn?”
“Can we get the second one too?” There’s a slight smile tugging at Bobby’s lips and Alex returns it, fingers stilling as he feels some of the tension in his shoulders release.
“Course man, can’t just watch the first.”
three.
There was an unspoken knowledge in their friend group.
Luke had a tendency to get into fights he couldn’t win.
Sure, they were almost always in deference of Reggie or Bobby or him, but Alex really wished he’d stop getting into them. Or would at least start to win. Honestly, you’d think by now that Luke would know how to throw a better punch, or least know how to dodge one.
It was a little embarrassing, the amount of fights that Luke had lost -- not that Luke saw it that way. Any fight that resulted in him sporting a black eye or split lip, not his friends, was a win to him. Which was a nice sentiment, but Alex was fairly sure that his idiotic heroics were going to give him a heart attack one day.
Luke’s constant scrapes were why Alex had started to carry around band-aids and disinfectant and bandages in the first place. All stored carefully in his fanny pack along with his inhaler and extra guitar picks and a granola bar for Reggie.
It was also why Alex wasn’t all that surprised when Luke found him after school, holding his wrist carefully against his chest with one hand and trying to wipe a dribble of blood off his lip on his shoulder. A split lip, a scrap across his cheek, and once he got a better look, Alex was pretty sure he’d find split knuckles too.
“Have you got a band-aid or something?” Luke’s words come out a little mumbled as he tries not to reopen the cut on his lip and Alex just raises an eyebrow at him. A band-aid? Really?
Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment Alex mentally counts to ten, reminds himself that his friend probably has a valid reason for looking like this.
Even though it’s only been twenty minutes since he last saw him. All he had to do was wait by their bikes while Alex went to talk to their history teacher about something. Twenty minutes alone and he’d found himself a fight.
“That’s –” he starts, then shakes his head, letting his shoulders drop as he breathes out a sigh and reopens his eyes, “Okay. Come on.”
Most of the school has cleared out as he leads them towards an empty bench, pushing Luke down onto it and pulling at the zip of his fanny pack to dig out the little homemade first aid kit he’d put together in a ziplock bag.
“Do I want to ask what happened?” He holds out a hand palm up for Luke to put his injured one in, biting his lip as he inspect the split skin and dried blood. It’s not as bad as he’d thought it would be, and it means Luke at least got one punch in this time.
“Some guys were laughing cause Bobby tripped getting on the bus and-” Luke hisses out a breath as Alex pours some water over his hand and starts gently dabbing at the cuts with a tissue, “Reggie dropped his bag when he tried to help him up. And I told ‘em it wasn’t funny and they said it was and I said it wasn’t and–- you get it.”
Luke shrugs up at him, starts trying to chew on his bottom lip before remembering it’s hurt and gives Alex a sheepish smile. Which is just annoying. Because Alex is the one trying to be annoyed here, trying to keep a stern look at his face even as locks of blonde hair fall in front of his eyes and he has to blow them away.
“You know you don’t have to start a fight every time someone’s mean to us, right?” He balls up the damp bloody tissue to put in the bin later and reaches for the cheap roll of bandages that he’d swiped from his mom's first aid kit at home. (All his medical knowledge comes from his mom, from watching her volunteer at church feats and garden parties as to who to go to when you got a little hurt. For someone with such a fully stocked box of medical tools, she sure did just pass out band-aids and suggest a glass of water a lot.)
“First, I didn’t actually start this fight. The one with the lip piercing threw the first punch,” Luke points his uninjured hand at him, like he’s just made a good argument before his lips pull down into a frown. “And I know I don’t have to. But I–- People are mean to you guys about stuff that doesn’t make sense. I don’t like that. Plus everyone knows that you guys would never do anything back, except maybe Bobby if it was really bad, and I just want them to know I think their assholes.”
It feels like there's more to it then that, Luke doesn't supply anymore insights into his thought process and Alex is too worried about their upcoming history text to push it today. 
"You’re so-” Alex starts but stops himself, rolling his eyes as he ties off the bandage and shakes his head at Luke. “That’s a really stupid reason to get in all these fights, you do know that right?”
“Yup!” He inspects his hand, the off-white bandage wrapping around his knuckles and flexes his fingers to test how tight it’s tied, then his eyes drift to the ziplock bag and the band-aids, “You got any of those cool glow in the dark ones?”
Alex opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again, but no words come out. It still surprises him, even after being friends for so long, how willing Luke is to get hurt for them. How he doesn’t seem to see any issue with it. He really hopes that one day he won’t feel the need to take a punch for any of them, that he won’t need to. But until then Alex supposes he doesn’t mind being a fourteen year old first responder. It’s kinda fun, sometimes. Like when he gets to dictate who gets which band-aid.
“You used the last glow in the dark one on Sunday. So you’re stuck with trucks.”
He’s still wearing the band-aid with little trucks on a dirt track across his cheek when he comes into school the next day and Alex really tries to stay annoyed at him. But it’s kinda hard when the only reason he’s got the cut is because he loves his friends. So Alex just rolls his eyes fondly and makes a mental note to ask his mom for glow in the dark band-aids when she next goes to the store.
four.
“You think Ron’s got the new Garth Brooks record?”
At least, that’s what Alex thinks Reggie asks, because it’s more like a mumbled group of sounds as the other boy stuffs a large forkful of pasta into his mouth. He glances at Luke, eyebrow raised to see if he’d understood the question right. And judging by the face Luke pulls, he thinks he did.
“I mean, probably. But we’ve been over this. No country in the van.”
Alex knows he’s trying to look stern and serious, Reggie knows it too. But Luke’s nose is scrunched up and his eyebrows are drawn together and his lower lip almost looks like it’s about to start quivering. Stern and serious isn’t the first thought that comes to mind. Cute, adorable, puppy like, sure. Stern or angry? Never.
“You’re just jealous,” Reggie starts, gulping as he swallows his mouthful and makes them both wait as he dramatically takes a sip of his soda too, “You wish you could do a country twang. It’s okay Luke-y, not everyone is musically gifted.”
He bites the end of his straw to keep from laughing at the look of annoyance that crosses Luke’s face, the desired reaction if Reggie’s widening grin is anything to go by.
“Dude you’ve done it now,” he mutters softly, but he can’t really find it in him to be too mad about the rant that Reggie has just triggered. Because it’s the first time in weeks that Reggie has smiled fully, and the bruise on his left cheekbone is now a faded purple and the arm he had been extra careful about touching is resting full length on the table as he taps the end of his fork on the wood.
Luke seems to know it too, if the gentle smile that briefly crosses his face when Reggie looks away for a moment is anything to go by. It had been to Luke's house that he’d run too, and Alex is honestly pretty proud of his friend for not leaping out his bedroom window to go fight Reggie’s dad the second he’d shown up. Alex was fairly confident that if Reggie asked to play nothing but country music for the next ten years Luke would agree if it meant they’d get to see his full blown smile without hints of sadness.
Sometimes, Alex wished he had half the confidence and determination that Luke had. Wished that when his fight or flight instincts were put to the test his reaction wasn’t flight. That he wasn’t always a little bit terrified of what would happen if he was honest with everyone, of what would happen if he threw a punch instead of trying to talk something out.
Probably just result in spending more money on band-aids and bandages.
Blinking the thoughts from his head, the blonde tunes back into the conversation. Pros and cons of having one country song on their demo.
“Come on! We’d all so rock a cowboy hat,” Reggie punctuated his point by stabbing his fork into the table, plastic progs snapping and flying into the air. “Fuck sake,” he mutters, a little mournfully as he pulls his arm back in to look at the one remaining bent prong and then down at his still half full container of pasta.
“I think the fork disagrees with the cowboy hats,” Luke grins, flicking one of the little plastic pieces at Reggie who just pouts for a moment longer.
And Alex can see where his brain goes, can practically track the thought process and the solution he comes up with as Reggie tosses his fork at Luke and starts to try and pick up the food with his fingers. But before he gets that far, Alex is pulling another fork out of his fanny pack, metal and wrapped in a napkin.
(Someone had once said to be prepared for all possible situations. Sixteen year old Alex had decided that meant he should start carrying extra cutlery around. Just in case. In case of what, he hadn’t known, but apparently it wasn’t a totally crazy idea, so screw you Bobby for laughing at it.)
“Here.”
Reggie accepts the fork, pout turning to a smile and sticking his tongue out at Luke who just rolls his eyes.
“Alex’ll do a country song with me, won’t you?” Both pairs of eyes are looking at him now and he doesn’t know if Reggie is being a 100% serious about a country song for their demo or wearing cowboy hats on stage, but he does know that either way it’ll make Luke do his cute angry face again and well. Alex can’t resist making him make that face.
“Oh yeah. We’d rock cowboy hats.”
five.
Being dead was -- not what Alex had expected. And it’s a little weird, because growing up he’d spent a lot of time thinking about what happened after you died. Where you went and what you could do and who would be there.
His parents were very insistent on ‘be a good person in life, don’t commit any sins and get into heaven’ so, when they’d died and ended up in a dark room, Alex had thought that was proof that being gay really was a sin and his parents had been right and now he’d dragged his best friends into hell with him. Luke might blame himself for them dying, and Reggie might blame himself for them being eternity linked, but Alex would always blame himself for that 25 year black room limbo.
Even if it wasn’t his fault. But he couldn’t convince the others that it wasn’t their fault, and they couldn’t convince him it wasn’t his fault and it was a loop they’d been stuck in for months now.
Julie called them all idiots for it. Fondly. With an eye roll. And a gentle smile when she’d pull them into a group hug.
Because they could do that now.
Hug her. So they did it a lot.
Group hugs and side hugs and high fives and piling onto her bed on a Sunday afternoon to watch one of the many Disney films they’d missed out on. They all latched onto her more than they already had.
Julie had pulled them out of the dark room -- hell -- and back into the light and then she’d saved them from zapping out of existence. Reggie might insist she was a witch and Luke would say a star, but Alex, who had a pretty rocky relationship with religion and God, was fairly confident in calling Julie an angel. (He was also willing to bet good money on in a fight, between a god, death and Julie, that Julie would win.)
And she didn’t seem to mind that they’d gotten a little...clingy over the last few months since the zapping had stopped. Which was nice, that they hadn’t annoyed her enough to send them packing yet. That she seemed just as attached to them as they were to her.
It’s with that thought in his mind that Alex knocks on her bedroom door. Julie loves them, Julie only invokes the boundaries rule when they snoop through her stuff, Julie isn’t about to tell them to leave because Alex is a little bored. At least he hopes she won’t.
“Come in.”
He almost misses her response, both because of his mildly spiralling thoughts and because her voice is soft, quite. Now his thoughts turn to worry as he pokes his head through the doors, eyes immediately landing on Julie tucked into her bed, surrounded by pillows and curtains closed. His brows pull together as he hesitantly steps through the door.
“Are you okay?” He asks, trying to keep his voice as low as hers had been. Slowly she lifts her head from the pillow, brushing curls out of her eyes as she looks at him with a small smile.
“Oh Alex, hey. I-- yeah, I’m fine. Just--” she trails off, blinks a little blearily at him and for the first time he realises that he’s woken her up. Shit. “Not feeling too great. Was trying to nap.”
“Shit, sorry, I’ll go. I didn’t know you weren’t well, I’ll um yeah. I’ll go.” He’s got half his leg through the door when she calls his name, a slight laugh in her voice and looks at her over his shoulder.
“It’s okay, you can stay. I wasn’t really getting much rest anyway.”
He opens his mouth to ask if she’s sure, but Julie’s already shuffling around in her bed, moving pillows and lifting the duvet for him to climb in next to her. Alex hesitates for a moment, bites his cheek before turning around fully and walking over, kicking his shoes off before sliding under the cover and making himself comfy.
“Why do you have so many pillows?” He asks, fluffing one up behind his head and moving another one to fill the space between the edge of the bed and the little side table.
“Don’t know,” she shrugs, and he knows she’s watching him with amusement when he repositions the pillow next to her head so it’s straight. He frowns a little at her answer because, well, that’s not really an answer. How does one person have like, ten pillows on their bed and not know why or how?
“That's not-- okay,” he sighs, letting it go, because now that he’s next her, Alex can see she’s shivering a little and her cheeks look flushed and on instinct he reaches out his hand to lay it against her forehead. She lets out a small hiss and Alex moves to move away when her hand comes up, warm fingers wrapping around his wrist to keep his hand in place.
“Stay there, your hands are cold, they feel nice.” And well, they might make fun of Luke for not being able to say no to Julie, but so far he hasn’t been able to do it yet either. So he keeps his hand on her forehead and moves his other to gently cup her chin and part of her cheek until he’s basically holding her head up in his hands, he watches as her eyes flutter shut.
“Have you taken anything?” He tries to keep his voice quiet, not wanting to disturb her too much but her eyes open and she shakes her head, blowing out a sigh as she moves herself out of his hold, head hitting one of her many pillows.
“All we have is cough syrup and dad’s out and I didn’t want to bother Victoria.”
So she’d taken herself to bed and tried to tackle whatever illness she had alone? Alex frowns at her, lets out a small tut as he pulls his fanny pack across his chest, unzips it and roots around for the ziplock bag of first aid things before pulling out a half used pack of paracetamol, leaving the bag on the bed. He’s dead, and so are his most clumsy friends, they don’t really need band-aids anymore.
There’s a bottle of water on the table next to him which Alex grabs, pops out two of the little white tablets and passes them both to Julie, who raises her eyebrows at him, but accepts.
“You know you’ve got three ghosts who would have happily gone to a store to get you something if you’d asked, right?” He’s sort of teasing, but sort of not as he watches her sink back against the pillows, water bottle still in her grasp. Turning her head a little, just enough so she can see him she shoots him a small smile.
“Didn’t want to bother you guys. You're my friends, not my personal shoppers and yesterday Luke had to go to the store because we forgot milk. Don’t won’t you thinking I’m just using you for your ghostly teleportation,” she says it like a joke, but there’s a sad sort of look in her eyes. The kind of look he used to see in Reggie’s back when they were kids and he thought they’d get annoyed with him. It had never even occurred to Alex that Julie might think they’d get fed up with her.
“Jules, you let us live in your garage. For free. The least we can do is the occasional magical shop,” he shuffles down in the bed until his head is resting on a pillow and they’re eye to eye, “And anyway, you could never bother us. We kinda owe our whole existence to you and you’re family and if you need help it’s a no questions asked type situation.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
She looks at him for a moment, eyes searching his face for something before she lets out a breath, shoulders relaxing and then she’s shuffling across the bed to lay her head on his shoulder, hair tickling his cheek but he doesn’t mind. Alex brings one arm up around her back and pulls her closer, tugging the duvet up to cover them a little more. They lie in silence for a while, Alex idly drumming his fingers on her upper arm and Julie tracing the letters on his hoodie. He doesn’t mean to pop the little peaceful bubble they’ve created but a thought shoves its way to the forefront of his mind and his fingers still.
“Hey uh, so do you think paracetamol goes out of date? Because that one I gave you is at least twenty-six years old.”
+one
Maybe, if Alex hadn’t been so wrapped up in his own head and trying to work through all of the sudden changes in his life, he would have noticed sooner.
At least, that’s what he’s going to tell himself and anyone else who might ask. He had a lot going on. He couldn’t possibly notice everything. Even something as big as this.
So yeah, he was going to blame all the crazy shit in his life for his sudden obliviousness.
The skate park was mostly empty when he got there – he forgot how long it could take to get somewhere when you couldn’t just poof into existence wherever you wanted. Being dead might have been bad, but he really missed the teleporting powers – which made sense, because the sun was starting to set and the air was growing colder. But he could hear the sound of wheels on concrete in the distance and followed it.
For a while, Alex just watched. He had never really cared all that much about skateboarding before (and honestly, he didn’t care all that much about it now, but he did like a certain skater an awful lot), but he had to admit it was fascinating to watch. The coordination and the skill and the lack of fear about falling.
Alex had always been scared about falling, physically and mentally and in love.
About hitting the ground and getting hurt and not being able to get back up. And he had fallen a lot. Out of a treehouse and down stairs. Had been pushed down. On concrete and on grass. Had been hurt. Luke and Reggie had always been there to help him back up though.
It didn’t mean it didn’t still scare him shitless. Falling.
Because what if one day he fell and there was no one to help him back up? What if one day he fell and everyone around him decided he was too much effort to help back up? What if one day he fell and staying down just seemed like the better option?
It was supposed to be one of the perks of coming back as a ghost. Of knowing that if he fell he couldn’t physically get hurt, and that Luke and Reggie would be there because they were always there and he was dead, falling in love shouldn’t have been a worry.
Of course, then he’d gone and got knocked off his feet, stinging palms and phantom bruises and hair flipping as the rest of the street blurred and all he could see was Willie.
And suddenly he was falling. Physically and mentally and in love.
Which was pretty fucking crazy. Who fell in love at first sight anyway? That wasn’t supposed to be a real thing. It was supposed to be something you read about or saw in silly cheesy rom-coms or from songs that people in love wrote.
So he’d met Willie, had fallen face first onto the ground, literally, and into like and then into love and then into life again.
It was a lot.
It was too much.
Too much change and more change and changing back and unanswered questions.
Was it really so hard to send a couple of ghost handbooks down?
So Alex had gone for a walk, to clear his head, to sort through his thoughts, to get a grip on the feeling of falling. He’d ended up at the skate park without really meaning too, not that he’d had any real destination in mind.
Sitting on a bench, he pressed two fingers to the pulse point on his wrist, counting the beats –- it’s been a few weeks and he’s still not used to having a beating heart, is always a little worried it’s all some big trick and he’ll wake up one day back as a ghost -– as he watches Willie go down a ramp and flip his board mid air.
Still being able to see with Willie was one of the many unanswered questions that he had.
(Maybe he should start making a list. Not that he thought he’d ever get any answers for them, but it might be nice. To have a list of all the questions about his death and his after life and his re-life. He could call it Tales of BHD (before hot-dog death). Julie might have some comments.)
Deep down Alex knew he shouldn’t question it. They’d been given a second chance, it was a miracle and magic and amazing. But he’d never done very well with questions without answers. He wished he could accept it as easily as Luke and Reggie and Julie had. That it was love or a gift or will power. It didn’t seem very likely, but he wasn’t about to argue it.
They’d been dead. Now they weren’t. It was a miracle.
He might have thought so if he could still hug Willie. But it was like when they’d first met Julie, he reached out to touch his shoulder, his hand, and passed right through him. Alex now knows how Luke felt and kind of feels bad for ever teasing him about. A re-lifer being in love with a ghost is kinda painful. And yet, he can’t seem to stop himself from seeking Willie out. No one’s ever called Alex the smart one.
There’s a sudden crashing sound, wood hitting concrete and Willie letting out a string of curse words and Alex immediately zeros in on him. On the ground. Without really stopping to think about it Alex is up off the bench and running the short distance until he’s next to him by the time Willie has pushed himself up onto his knees.
“Shit are you okay?” He reaches out a hand, to touch his shoulder, to help him up, he doesn’t know. But stops himself short. Because he can’t touch him, and every time that his hand phases through they both look away sadly.
“I’m– yeah I’m good. Had worse spills,” there’s a toothy smile on his face as he says it, but Willie’s eyes have caught on Alex’s still outstretched hand, a sadness flashes across his eyes quickly before vanishing.
Alex just stands there a little awkwardly, stuffing his hands into his pockets, as he watches Willie stand up, wincing a little at some unknown injury – which okay, when he thinks back on it, that should have been his first sign.
“What ha–” Alex starts, but his eyes catch on Willie’s knees and the blood slowly spilling down his leg from a cut. “Shit you’re bleeding! You said you were fine!” He doesn’t mean to sound so accusational, but well, how can he help if no one tells him when they're hurt?
Willie looks at him in confusion before down at his legs, eyes widening at the blood and Alex starts to worry that the other boy might faint. Does he not like the sight of blood? Oh god, he should probably sit down before he gets more hurt.
“Sit down I should have something for it, hang on.” Without thinking, Alex puts his hand on Willie’s shoulder and guides him back down to the ground, to the lip off the end of one of the ramps and makes sure he’s sat before turning his attention to his fanny pack. His fingers catch on a drum stick, a lip balm, one of Julie’s scrunchies, his inhaler, but no ziplock bag of first aid. Shit. He’d left it in Julie’s room, months ago. Because he’d been dead. And hadn’t needed any of it. Fuck.
He looks back at Willie, mouth opening to tell him the bad news, but Willie is already looking at him with wide, scared eyes. He has one hand gripping the side of the ramp and his other is resting over his chest. Over his heart.
“Alex,” he starts and that’s when Alex realises that he doesn’t look scared. It's shock. There’s tears pooling in his eyes and, like a bus hitting him, Alex realises that his hand hadn’t phased through when he’d guided him to sit down.
“You– I– What?” Is all he gets out, which doesn’t make any sense but Willie seems to get it because he nods his head. And then Willie is standing up, hissing a little as he unbends his knee and dimly, Alex is aware that it’s started bleeding a little again, but all that is second to the feeling of Willie carefully, slowly, gently, reaching for his hand. And holding it. Fingers linking. Solid and real and warm. With his other hand Alex reaches for his neck, lays his fingers against soft skin and feels for a pulse. For the fluttering of a heartbeat and lets out a wet laugh when he finds it. He doesn’t know when he started crying, but it doesn’t matter.
Alex uses the hand that Willie is still holding to pull the other boy towards him, lets the fingers on his neck slip around until his arm is around his back, and is pulling him into a hug he’s been craving for a month.
“How?” It’s the first thing Willie says as he pulls away, not far, because Alex had let out a small whine as he’d tried to step away and wasn’t even ashamed of it.
“I have no idea,” he shrugs, because he doesn’t. He has no answers for any of this. But he’s willing to not question it, he decides, if he and the people he loves most in the world get a second chance at life. Together. “I’m starting to not question these things and just say thank you.”
Willie laughs then, a little watery, but still bright and kind and so full of life that no one would have ever known he’d been a ghost a short while ago.
“Fair enough,” they’re still stood close together, hands awkwardly intertwined between them and Alex’s fingers are tangled in his hair. But neither of them make any move to pull away. Willie pulls a face, lips twisting to the side and Alex raises an eyebrow at him, “Where the hell am I going to live now? Caleb already hated that I've been sleeping at the club, he's never gonna let me back in now."
Now it’s Alex’s turn to laugh, shaking his head a little at the question, because at least this one he has an answer too. He detangles his fingers from Willie’s hair carefully and takes a half step away, just enough for him to properly hold his hand, pulling him over to his abandoned skateboard.
“Well, lucky for you, I happen to know the coolest girl with the coolest dad who likes to take in stray used to be ghosts.”
Willie picks up his skateboard and when Alex starts to walk, pulls them to a stop, a worried little crease between his brows as he looks at him.
“Are you sure Julie will be cool with me crashing with you all? I don’t want to like, intrude or get in the way.”
“I’m pretty sure she’d re-kill me if I didn’t bring you home with me,” Alex shakes his head, a little fondly and with a little exasperation. But this time, when he starts to walk, pulling Willie along with him, his boyfriend doesn’t stop them. And if this is what unanswered questions gets him, well Alex will learn to live with them.
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statticscribbles · 3 years
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Puppy
Summary: Reggie/Reader Request: Reggie avoids you because he overhears you talk to Kevin about your perfect guy (comic book character) so as he’s avoiding you, you keep trying to get his attention, and finally you end up kissing him cause he’s just pining after you like  lovesick puppy; after the confession and when you start dating the “lovesick puppy act” gets worse
“Kevin I’m being serious!” You smack his arm as he laughs. “No it’s just funny he doesn’t seem like the type you’d go for.” “And what do you know about my type.” You laugh with him and he smirks. “Reggie, what would you say Y/N’s type it?” You can see Reggie frown before shaking it off. “Tall, dark haired, plays football.” He winks and you smile at him. “Wow that’s so off model it’s kind of sad.” Kevin nods solemnly and you smack his arm again. “You do have to admit it though, I mean the muscles, and the hair, plus have you seen him wearing a shirt? He practically never does!” “That’s sort of the point you know that right, not wearing a shirt to attract the ladies, you included apparently.” Kevin smirks and you scowl watching Reggie almost storming out.
“I’m guessing Reggie’s not a fan of the reboot then?” You chew your lip. “You think he knew we were talking about the newest edition? I mean we’ve talked about the second volume for months so-“ “I don’t think he cares about what I talk about, you on the other hand.” “Kev, he doesn’t care about comics half as much as you do, let alone me; how much do you think he thought I was talking about a real person.” “I mean inability to keep a shirt on just screams Sweet Pea, you know that right?” “Dammit; now I have to go find him to explain don’t I.” “It works out perfectly you explain your crush to him.” “My crush on-“ “On Reggie, not that paper cutout you have in your room.” You roll your eyes and run after where you think Reggie is.
You weren’t able to find him before science but you know having to sit next to him will at least give you an excuse to explain the comic book misunderstanding. You frown when he doesn’t look at you, doesn’t talk to you. You’re stuck doing busy work since your actual teacher is out; so the chance to talk goes out the window until lunch at the earliest; since you don’t share any other classes with him. You pass him in the hallway and wave and you can tell he makes a point to turn his head away. You try to brush it off, concocting reasons for his sudden change in attitude. You complain to Kevin during math and he just laughs at your ridiculous theories. “Oh yeah, and what do you think has a stick up his ass so bad?” “He likes you; it’s why he’s so bothered by your crush you realize that right?” “Kevin that’s ridiculous; he’s Reggie freaking Mantle, he can have anyone in the school; why would he want me?” “Do you want the list alphabetically or by popularity?”
“Popularity?” “You’re a River Vixen, you’re into those weird old books that he doesn’t admit he likes; since you’re a River Vixen you have a great figure, you know how to dance, you like Pop’s.” “Kev it’s Riverdale, everyone likes Pop’s. That one doesn’t count.” “You know you two order the same thing, every time right?” “No we don’t; do we?” he laughs nodding as you make your way to lunch. “Hey Reggie” Kevin nods to him and he looks up, turning slightly away from you to focus on Kevin. “Yeah?” “What’s your standing Pop’s order.” “Burger wise or in general?”
“Isn’t the burger in general, or do you order something we don’t know about?” “You thinking about making a run down to Pop’s cause I know pretty much everyone would kill for that.” He grins and Kevin smirks. “Yeah, you wanna help me carry shit? Meet by your car in five?” Reggie nods vanishing to the parking lot and Kevin grins. “So I want a cheeseburger, extra onions and-“ “Kev why are you- No, no he’s been avoiding me all day!! I’m not going to sit with him to get Pop’s!” “You’re getting Pop’s?” You cringe at Archie and Jughead’s hovering. “Yeah, write down what you want.” You scowl holding out a spare piece of paper.
“Reggie, Kevin asked if I could go instead, he has theatre stuff to; okay.” You sigh as he opens the door silently walking around to the drivers seat. You’re silent the entire car ride, trying to start conversation but the lack of even a glance your way keeps you quiet. Reggie doesn’t say anything just holding his hand out so you stop getting out of the car. “Wait.” He says it more to the car than to you and you huff, grumbling under your breath as he pulls the list from where you set it in the cupholder. He appears moments later. “What do you want?” You decide to give him a taste of the silent treatment and point to your order you’d written. “That’s mine.” He clarifies and you point to it again glaring. ‘So you want the same thing as me?”You nod and he laughs dryly. “Won’t even talk to me great.” “Say’s the one.” You hiss and he glares openly at you.
“Well I’m not the one with a crush on someone they can’t have now am I? So who’s the real loser.” “You.” He groans and slams the door retreating back into Pop’s to order and wait for the food. You watch from the car window as he pulls the bags towards himself, you lean towards the door, opening it and walking through. “Let me help.” He doesn’t say anything sliding two of the bags towards you. He silent until you put the food in the backseat. You buckle your seatbelt waiting for him to start the car. “Listen I don’t care about whoever you have a crush on. Just making that clear.” You sigh looking up to the ceiling of the car. “Me you mean, you don’t care about me.” “Who said that?” “You did, or rather didn’t; I’ve been trying to get your attention all day to explain.” “Explain what?” “Comic books.”
“Is that code for something? Or slang for you wanting some Jangle? Cause I don’t sell; what I get is my own-“ “Kevin and I, we were talking about comic books earlier.” “Oh good for you?” “That crush isn’t on a real person.” “Oh well alright then; once again good for you. So there are other crushes?” He questions glaring slightly; you realize he didn’t want to actually talk with you. You don’t respond as he drives back to school. “Grab the food?” You ask as he stays unmoving in the car; he must catch you rolling your eyes with how he scoffs. “What? I’m going to grab the damn food.” He snaps.
“Yikes, there’s no need to be in such a pissy mood, I get you’re hungry but-“ “I’m in a pissy mood cause you’ve been avoiding me for the entire day!” “I’ve been avoiding you? I’ve been trying to get your attention since you stormed off after the crush misunderstanding!” You scowl as he shoves the other bag of food towards you. “I can avoid whoever I want regardless of how I actually feel about you.” You snap at him. “You feel differently than avoidance about me? Hard to believe; but at least you admit you were avoiding me.” You laugh shaking your head.
“The only reason I’m admitting it is so you won’t complain for the next week about how much of a bitch I’m being.” Reggie sets the food on the hood of his car leaning over you. “Don’t put words in my mouth.” He hisses about to pull the food back over when you tug on his arm. “Reggie.” Your voice is soft and you can tell he’s confused but you’re relieved as you pull yourself towards him. You’re quick about pressing your lips to his, intent on kissing him and bringing everyone their food so he doesn’t get the chance to ask you about it.
It works and as you shove Jughead’s burger into his hands you scowl when you realize your order was packed with Reggie’s. You’re about to turn around to look for him surprised to find the burger and extra fries sitting at the spot on the table you’ve claimed. “Oh thank you.” You say more toward the general table but jump slightly when Reggie’s arm lays on your shoulder. “No problem.” He seems relaxed as you sit down, he sits next to you and you cast a look to Kevin who nods, you’re thankful he’ll be able to talk later. “These are yours.” You nod to the fries and he shakes his head. “Don’t want them.” “You don’t want the cheese fries you ordered?” “Not in the mood for them anymore.” You smile pulling them closer. “You’re welcome to them, since they are yours.” He nods relaxing slightly settling closer to you as he sits.
You sigh when the bell rings, standing to grab your bag confused when Reggie hands it to you. Kevin appears, walking with you to English. “So what was that about?” He mumbles as your teacher finishes the lesson for the day. “We kissed.” “So you just skipped confessing your crush then?” He laughs and you join him. “I guess I did; we’re probably going to have to talk later.” “You better, I’m not letting you get away with not confessing to him. I don’t think he’s going to either.” He nods and you smile confused as Reggie stands at the door smirking. “Can I walk you home?” “You have a car.”
“Walk sounds better.” You arch an eyebrow. “How is walking better than you being able to drive your car?” Kevin nods as he leaves and you walk towards the door. “Well like this.” He steps to the side, slightly closer, his hand grasping yours. “You don’t want to drive because you can’t hold my hand?” You watch a blush creep onto his face. “Maybe.”
“You know you can hold my hand while you’re driving.” “I didn’t want to assume anything.” “Well we kissed, and I do have a crush on you.”’ “So you do have a type?” He straightens up beaming; and you laugh. “Yeah, you were right about the tall dark haired footballers. AKA you.” You wink and he laughs. “Do you want to go out sometime.” “Besides this?” You nudge him and he shakes his head. “This isn’t going out, I’m walking you home.” “From being out, together.” “School doesn’t count as a date.” He counters and you rolls your eyes. “Well you’ll just have to plan a date then.” He nods eagerly and you smile as he reaches your door.
You’d been dating Reggie for a week and Kevin is constantly pointing out how much Reggie’s acting like a puppy. “Kev, it’s not a thing, you’re exaggerating.” “Point proven, look.” You’re standing behind him so you know Reggie can’t see you but you can see him. He’s laughing with the rest of the Bulldogs and nods to Kevin; you watch as Kevin moves, and Reggie’s face softens and he smiles excitedly.
“Babe!” He moves from the rest of the bulldogs pulling you into a hug. “Oh my god he’s right.” “Who’s right?” Reggie pulls back slightly and you shake your head. “I’ll tell you later, we’re still on for Pop’s after the game right?” He nods leaning down to kiss you. “Of course, it’s tradition.” “This is the first time we’re doing it.” “And after it’s tradition.”
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