#and that my brain has now registered the fact that we are going to switch to a more positive mindset

[thehollowwriter]

Summary: Finn stays at Mostro Lounge after closing to enjoy the quiet, and Jade gifts him a mysterious box to open only on his birthday

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤)

After Hours

It was wonderful after hours.

Mostro was at its best after closing, that Finn could guarantee.

The music had been turned off and every customer and member of staff had left, leaving the small restaurant to relax in a glorious bout of silence. It was dim, only illuminated by the glow the glass wall looking out onto the colourful sea beyond.

Finally alone, Finn closed his eyes and sighed in content. He was seated at one of the tables facing the glass wall, revelling in the rare peace he had been granted.

This is why he was always the person who locked up the lounge at night. Once everyone leaves, he takes a seat by the glass wall and just... enjoys his peace.

Phone switched off in his pocket, earphones neatly packed away and hat and coat discarded. Alone and revelling in the silence.

Next time he would be sure to bring his painting equipment. He wouldn't mind fending off Azul's requests to sell his work if he got to enjoy a night of painting in such a perfect environment.

....Maybe he would paint the lounge itself and charge Azul to use it as advertising. Just maybe.

Thoughts of deals and money were distant in his mind, though. He was too happy, too floaty, to consider any of that.

He was going to savour this more than he ever had before. Tomorrow was birthday, after all, and it was going to get loud.

Sitting here in the dark surrounded by water, Finn was overcome by a wave of nostalgia. This almost reminded him of home.

But it wasn't home.

Mostro Lounge after closing was close enough. Better than nothing. Better than the loud hubbub in the Octavinelle common lounge, filled with lights and excitedly chatting students.

Oh, how Finn missed home.

The current rippling through his hair. The comforting pressure of the deep sea. Being surrounded by a heavy silence and pitch black darkness as he darted in and out of seaweed and chased crabs across the sandy ocean floor.

But he wasn't home. He was on land. It was dry, bright, and loud. Finn would've hated it if it weren't for the opportunity to fly and view the natural wonders that could not be found in the ocean.

Then the sudden sound of footsteps ripped Finn from his paradise and he sprang out of his seat, scanning the vacant lounge with sharp amethyst eyes.

"Oya, did I frighten you? My apologies."

Finn's posture relaxed slightly at the familiar voice of Jade, and he turned his head to find the eel in question making his way towards him with an amused smile on his face.

"No- no you didn't, I was just surprised." Finn let out a sigh. "I didn't know you were still here."

Jade hummed and came to a stop in front of Finn, heterochromatic eyes gleaming in the low light.

"I was making sure Azul wasn't staying late in his office again. Luckily this time he has gone to bed early."

"Oh that's good." Finn sighed. "I was concerned about him. Azul always works so hard, he really... needs to... to..."

He trailed off as his still sleepy brain slowly registered the fact that Jade was closer now, leaning forwards slightly and gazing at him with an indecipherable expression.

Finn stammered and blood rushed to his cheeks at the sudden closeness.

"You always stay here late after closing." Jade said softly. "You look so peaceful, staring through the glass the glass like that. You don't notice I'm there most of the time, not even when I leave. What are you thinking about, I wonder?"

"I-" Finn flushed further as Jade tilted his head at him curiously. "I was just enjoying the quiet. And thinking about home."

"Oh I see." Jade nodded slowly and his expression shifted to one of understanding. "I miss home as as well. So many fond memories."

A pause.

"I remember trying to find you in the kelp forests when we were younger, but you darted away too quickly for us. How mean you were."

Finn huffed. "Well its no fault of mine that I get the wrong idea when you're four times my size and suddenly lunging at me. I didn't know you wanted to play."

A smirk flashed across his face. "Besides, it's not like you tried very hard. Your whole posse stopped short the moment I got onto Papa's territory."

"Floyd and I wished to continue." Jade's voice was lamenting. "However the "friends" we were trapped with for the day were afraid to cross the boundary. They said they... what was it now... did not want to be 'butchered'."

Finn stifled a laugh. "They thought that? How ridiculous."

"Indeed." Jade was grinning now, his teeth glinting in the light. "We all know you would much rather eat them as they are."

"Jade!" Finn lightly pushed at the eel's shoulder. "Don't act as if you wouldn't eat them raw too."

Jade's soft chuckles echoed through the empty room, reverberating off the walls and making Finn's poor heart flutter.

"Hmm true. It truly is best like that. No shame to Mr Clearcove's practice, of course, he has the best meat in the Coral Sea. I imagine he'll be sending you some five star cuts for your birthday tomorrow?"

"Oh most certainly." Finn said with a smile. "I look forward to it."

"Lovely."

There was brief silence before Jade spoke again.

"I have something else for you to look forward to tomorrow."

Finn lifted an eyebrow as Jade procured a small wooden box from seemingly nowhere. It was dark oak with glittering gold hinges and... butterflies etched into the wood around the frame.

"Oh my." He mouthed as Jade presented it to him, blinking owlishly.

"Please, open this when you wake up tomorrow morning." Jade's voice softened to a whisper, like he was telling a secret. "And... don't share it. It is for your eyes only."

Finn took the box from Jade with wide eyes, looking at it incredulously before looking back at Jade.

"For me?"

Jade nodded. "For you."

"Oh... thank you so much, Jade!' Before Finn could stop himself, his lips stretched into a wide smile, putting every single one of his teeth on display.

His eyes widened when he realised his error and he slapped a hand over his mouth, mumbling a sheepish apology.

He was taken off guard by Jade gently taking hold of his wrist and pulling it away, leaning in so close their noses were almost touching.

"Don't be so ashamed." He breathed. "Your teeth are beautiful."

"W-wha-" Finn's ability to speak abandoned him suddenly, rendering him stupefied. "You- my-"

Without warning Jade suddenly straightened again, pulling his face away. He tipped his fedora at Finn and smiled that placid Jade smile.

"I must be going now. I have some bioluminiscent mushrooms to observe. Have a good night, Finn."

Finn uttered a weak, slightly confused "You too" as Jade disappeared out the doors, and just like that he was alone once more.

His heart was beating so fast he was afraid it would leap out of his mouth and he gripped the box so tightly his knuckles were surely turning white under his gloves.

The box was so exquisite Finn dreaded the price tag. It was smooth and cool under his fingers, the grooves of the butterfly markings giving a delightful dip in the surface.

He wanted to know what was inside so so badly. He bit his lip and steepled his fingers to stop himself from opening it.

It was a gift from Jade. It could be anything, really. It could be the most innocent little brooch or mushroom in the world or the most dangerous plant the eel could possibly find.

Whatever it was, Finn knew it would be a surprise. Jade always kept him on his toes with his eccentric ways and Finn loved him so much for it.

Finn sighed to himself and held the box to his chest. His little bubble had been shattered long ago, so he might as well lock up for the night.

He double checked the kitchen to make sure everything was powered off, closed it up and then exited the lounge, locking the door behind him.

Finn barely registered the walk back to his dorm room, his brain all fogged up thinking about Jade. Handsome, intelligent, eccentric Jade~

He was quiet as a mouse when he entered his room, careful not to wake his roommate as he undressed and got into bed.

Finn placed the box on the side table next his bed and smiled to himself.

He couldn't wait for the next morning.

***

Finn was awake the moment the clock struck six.

Usually he was a heavy sleeper and it required a number of alarms and occasionally his roommates shaking him to wake him up, but not today. Today he was too excited to sleep all that deeply.

He could open the box now!

Finn sat up straight and gently took the box in his hands, blinking away the sleep in his eyes until he could focus properly.

His fingers almost trembled with excitement as he gently lifted the lid, eyes sparkling when he spotted the letter inside.

The paper was cream coloured and graced with a practiced teal script. Jade's handwriting.

Finn's breath hitched as he began to read the letter.

Happy birthday, Finn.

I wish you a good day filled with everything you could possibly wish for

Please, take my offer into consideration

Jade Leech

It was brief and to the point, but drenched in caring well wishes that made Finn's heart lose all semblance of control in his chest.

Jade's... offer?

Finn turned the letter over, trying to see if there was some deal or other on it, but there was none.

He placed that letter down, looked into the box, and gently lifted up what was inside.

It was a bracelet, a necklace and two earrings.

The bracelet was composed of many cowrie shells strung onto a thin red string.

The necklace consisted of many many... teeth. Finn could not quite name what type of creature it was, but it came from a predator and it was certainly an achievement to get this many.

The earrings consisted of two small nautilis shells. They were golden in colour- shiny and beautiful, a perfect little pair.

Everything was clearly handmade, put together with great care and precision that stretched beyond a gift for a schoolmate.

Handmade jewellery.

Jade had gifted him handmade jewellery and called it an offer.

Finn's heart lurched.

Jade had given him a courting gift.

-End

....................................

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! O hope you enjoyed and that you aren't sick of the splurge of Finn content haha. This story is more just fluff lol

Tagging: @azulashengrottospiano @krenenbaker @the-banana-0verlord @jaylleoo14 @whspermy-name @officialdaydreamer00 @cynthinesia @distant-velleity @kitwasheree @elysia-nsimp @twisted-wonderland-but-gayer (if you'd rather not be tagged in this sort of thing please let me know!

#jade leech #finn clearcove #jade leech x finn clearcove #octavinelle #twisted wonderland #writing #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc

[mangoshorthand]

No Hard Feelings- [Five Hargreeves x F Reader]. Ch10

SUMMARY: You're Five's latest assassination target, but things don't go to plan and now he wants you as his fuckbuddy. Funny how what we want and what we need are rarely in line. (Five's physically aged up). Obvious smut warning but there's plot too, I swear! Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five- Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve

In this chapter: You wake up safe in Five's attic room...until you're discovered.

Smut and Five's siblings messing with him below. Proceed at your own risk.

Chapter Ten: Caught

When morning comes, you’re fully awoken by the sound of the door. You’ve been drifting pleasantly in and out of sleep, knowing where you are and enjoying the knowledge. The sheets smell of him and of plain-scented detergent. You vaguely registered him getting out of bed, his kiss on the cheek and whispered reassurance that he’d be back soon. 

You’re taking the opportunity to stretch out your limbs after being cramped together all night, (not that you were complaining), Five walks in. He’s barefooted, wearing his suit trousers and a white vest. To complete this vision, he’s carrying a loaded breakfast tray.

“Good morning, dear one.”

He’s positively chipper. He pours you both coffee and perches on the end of his bed. To your cup, he adds a drop of milk from a tiny jug. He hands you the coffee and a plate of three pancakes, each one has a blueberry and raspberry smiley-face.

You look up at him, touched.

“Just like my robot Mom used to make,” he grins.

There’s warmth in your stomach, a glow you feel all over as you look into his face- every inch a man in his sixties in his vest, but it contrasts wildly with his smooth skin and thick dark hair. His eyes are the only thing that unifies his appearance: a sweet, indeterminate old-young. 

You balance the pancakes onto your knee and grab his face between both of your hands. He has an instant to look startled before you pull him into downward bend and smack a kiss against his lips. 

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” he says, indistinctly - owing to the fact that his lips are slightly squished by your hands. 

You give him one last hearty kiss before releasing him, slightly discomposed. 

You tuck in, and he settles on the end of his bed, one leg crossed over the other and regarding you fondly over the rim of his coffee cup. 

As you eat your heart-meltingly-cute breakfast, you chat. The talk is inconsequential (about little somethings and nothings) but it's comfortable in a way you wouldn't have expected straight away. 

He mentions his nephew and, noticing his smile as he does, you press him. Five's more than happy to talk on this subject, clearly an uncle bursting with love and pride, but affecting to hide it behind a detached attitude. 

“Yeah, he’s a great kid. It’s surprising given his parents. He’s my brother Diego’s boy and, believe me, if brains were dynamite then his would be made of jello. Lila’s his Mom-  need I say more?” You take a sip of coffee as he continues.

“Yeah, I sometimes wonder whether Santi was switched at birth. He and I get on fine.”

You can’t stop yourself from smiling. His utterly transparent attempt to play down just how enamored he is with this child endears him to you even more. You didn’t think that were possible. You can’t help but push him.

“I’ll be excited to meet him sometime. Are you his favorite Uncle?”

“I don’t know,” he said, affecting indifference, “I guess…I guess we spend a bit more time together than some of the others…but that’s probably just because we live together…when I walk in the door he always comes running.”

You catch his eye, trying not to laugh at him. His mouth twitches and then you’re both laughing.

“You’re his favorite and you love it, don’t you?”

“I really love it,” he says through his gentle chuckles. 

Even when the talk naturally wanes, the little moments of silence between utterances aren't awkward: they're filled with the clinking of your cutlery against the plate and his quiet sips of coffee. Eventually, you place your plate on the bedside table.

“Did you eat?”

“I ate mine downstairs. Those were the neatest three I did."

“You’re so sweet.”

He smiles and then suddenly throws off the slight vulnerability, “And I’m intelligent, immensely powerful, and hot. What can I say? You’re a lucky woman.”

You look at him disapprovingly: “I would have kept that to myself if I knew it would make your ego even bigger.”

He grins. It’s that cocky, superior look that makes you want to punch as well as kiss him. Gradually, he comes down off this little ego-trip and becomes more serious.

“I'm the lucky one. Last night was…great. Yesterday morning I thought I’d never see you again and now we’re…” he trails off, shrugging and smiling a little incredulously. 

“What made you decide to come to my office?” 

You’re curious. You don’t bother asking how he knew where your office was. There are some things you just have to take for granted with Five and you're sure you wouldn't like the answer. You're too taken up in the flush of romance to want to spoil it with knowledge of an invasion of privacy. 

“Honestly? I meant the flowers to be the last you heard from me. But after I’d ordered them I just couldn’t let it go, couldn’t leave it alone. I’m just glad that dickhead Charlie showed up or you might not have come.”

“I’d have come.”

He smiles at you, perhaps not believing but happy to hear it nevertheless. You can hear movement from the floors below you.

“Do you want me to sneak down the fire-escape?”

“Of course not. Who said anything about sneaking out?”

“I thought your family…”

His eyebrow shoots up.

“Personally, I’m hoping we don’t leave this room for at least a few more hours. Your TV is being delivered around five PM and we have plenty of time before then.”

“I see now why you fed me,” you grin, “trying to keep my energy up?”

“Why else?” he smirks, his eyes hungry again.

He discards his coffee cup onto the desk. Moving back over to the foot of the bed, he lifts the sheets and ducks under, crawling towards you, laughing softly. You lift them at your end to get a peek of him as he moves towards you. He looks playful; mischievous. He tips you a wink before starting to stroke each of your calves, moving his hands up past your knees and around your thighs. His touch is whisper-light and makes you tingle.

You lay your head back and sigh contentedly. Gently, hidden beneath the blankets, he parts your legs, leans in and runs the tip of his tongue between your labia. It’s warm, wet and lithe.

You moan a little, shifting your weight so you can get a better angle. He deepens his licks, parting your outer lips with a finger and thumb. You lift your hips towards him as he swirls his tongue, hooding and unhooding your clit. Though he’s not as deft as with his fingers, it still makes you shiver; the feeling is exquisite.

“You taste good,” he murmurs into your pussy. Even the vibrations from his voice feel good. Your hand comes to the back of his head, urging him forward and grinding your hips up to meet his face.  You let out a low, salacious 'aah' as he licks, suckles and-

But then the door bangs open.

“Hey Five, I-”

You both jump violently. In pulling the sheets up to your chin, you reveal Five’s legs at the end of the bed. He pulls himself out from underneath, wiping his mouth hurriedly with the back of one hand

The large man in the doorway seems frozen in shock and disgust.

“Oh God.”

“LUTHER? GET. OUT.”

He doesn’t need telling twice. He backs up quickly, babbling apologies. He closes the door with a snap.

“I swear to God, I’m going to kill that idiot.”

You don’t talk, hands over your face; too ashamed and embarrassed to speak. Five turns his attention back to you, concerned, and places a reassuring hand on your blanketed knee.

“Hey, it’s OK. It’s not ideal- it’s not how or when I’d like you to meet the family. I’m sorry. We should have gone to yours or I should have got us a hotel room.”

When you still don’t look at him, he takes your wrists in his hands and kisses the fingers hiding you from his view. 

“Come on, dear one. It’s not so bad.”

From the door, a quiet knock.

“Stay OUT.”

Luther’s voice issues through the wood, “Family meeting…j-just you.”

Five groans, “Just what I need.”

He stands and reaches into the closet for a clean shirt.

“Just stay here.”

“But- ”

“It’s probably Academy stuff. Stay here.”

Shirt now buttoned and tucked, he strides to the door.

“I’ll be back soon, okay?”

As soon as the door closes behind him, you get out of bed, hurriedly and haphazardly covering yourself. You grab your skirt and shrug on the shirt you yourself had taken from his shoulders last night. Then, feeling exposed without your bra, you grab the first thing you see, a deep blue blazer from the back of the door. You recognize it vaguely as Academy Uniform. It’s too small but it does the job, hiding your top half a little more than the shirt.

In the stairwell, you follow the sound of conversation. As you pass the second floor, you can hear a child singing and the patter of small, running footsteps from somewhere in the bowels of the building. When you reach the entrance hall, you recognise Lila’s voice as her wild laughter meets your ears:

“-he’s been shagging her for weeks. Trying to kill her got him horny or something.”

“Jesus, Five.” - a disapproving male voice you don’t recognize.

“It’s NONE of your business. Any of you!”

“Have you not considered the…optics?” - Luther again.

“I’m sorry, dearest brother, but I don’t remember a full-blown family meeting about optics when Diego started climbing up Lila like a sewer rat!”

“Five!” says the first voice, indignantly, just as Lila says:

“Too right he did. Right up there.”

You pop your head around the corner. Only one of the siblings notices you: a long-haired man standing on the edge of the group, leaning against a pillar. As his family bickers, the man gives you a tiny wink and a mischievous smile.

He looks from you, to Five (still engaged in bickering with Luther) and then back again, looking you briefly up and down. He nods, as if pleasantly surprised and then approaches you as if introducing himself at a party.

“Hey,” he says, not troubling to keep his voice low, “it’s Klaus- the ghostie one.  Loving the blazer, you look almost as good as I did.” 

He gives you a playful shove on the arm before continuing

“Why not sit down? I’d get comfortable if I were you. Pretty sure someone’s getting punched but we’re still working out who.”

As Klaus talks, he draws the attention of the rest of the group. All eyes fall upon you.

Five, spitting a portion of his boiling rage in your direction, snaps, “I told you to stay where I left you.”

“You don’t tell me to do anything,” you say, firmly.

“Except in the bedroom, am I right?” stage whispers Lila. The man beside her, (presumably Diego), raises a hand to his eyes, clearly disgusted but amused. Klaus giggles beside you.

Five turns to look at her and then back at you. He nods decisively and walks over to you and Klaus. He positions himself at your shoulder and turns to face his siblings.

“No, you’re right. Since this meeting is apparently about whether I’m allowed to eat your pussy, I think you count as a concerned party."

As his siblings cringe and Lila makes a retching noise,  Five places a supportive hand on your lower back and murmurs an apology. Though you felt yourself blush crimson at his words, his touch is comforting. Him moving to stand beside you is a statement that means something in this context. He introduces you to the group and then gestures as each person in turn.

“You’ve met Lila, pain in my ass,” (she waves) “my darling brothers, Diego, Viktor, Klaus and, of course, Luther. You’re lucky to have met him before I permanently disfigure his face. It's a shame because it’s one of this dumb fucker’s only assets...and this is Sloane, his long suffering wife.”

Luther puts out a placatory hand.

“Five, listen.  Do you think it’s appropriate to be…at least, just now? You look…a bit young for her," whispering the last few words.

“Luther,” pipes up Viktor, “He’s over sixty.”

Luther looks around, as if for support. He doesn’t find it, “-and isn’t that worse? She’s gotta be younger than us?”

"Honey-" begins Sloane.

“So are we here to vote on who’s the bigger nonce?” breaks in Lila, causing Klaus to giggle, “I vote Five.”

“Lila-” scolds Diego.

She talks over him, “Look, the heart wants what the heart wants and if she wants a twink-arsed DILF then who are we to judge?”

Five looks a little put out by this description of himself but nods in Lila's direction, thankful nevertheless for her support.

"Not that I think you're a DILF," Lila continues, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction, "just a dick."

“Thanks Lila,” he says, giving her a sarcastic smile.

Luther continues, ignoring this conversational sideroad: “Listen Five, it's not just about-”

“No.” Five speaks firmly, “What and who I do with this body is absolutely none of your business. Whatever way you slice it, we’re both adults. This is my chance to be happy- it's the only time I’ve felt happy that I messed up the jump...that makes the body feel like mine again.”

Luther looks pained and a little shamefaced. He makes as if to break in, but Five talks over him, looking at Viktor with an appeal.

“I'm starting to actually feel young again. Like...my outside and inside are...” he gestures vaguely at his body. Words fail him, but he looks at Viktor for understanding that he doubts any of the others could share.

Viktor smiles and reaches out a hand to brush Five’s arm. It's a small but significant moment between them. Five turns his eyes back to Luther.

“- And I couldn't give one single, solitary shit if you find that 'icky'. I’d have thought the man who wanted to fuck his sister for over twenty years might be a little more accepting.”

“Er- we’re not biological.” Luther says hurriedly upon catching your eye.

“Pretty gross though.” says Lila, with the reasonable air of someone chairing a debate. She's clearly enjoying this.

“Right now,” continues Five, “I’ve got the best chance for happiness I’m probably ever going to get. Nothing you say will make me give it up.” then, to you, “Let’s go.”

Back in his room, in silence, you get dressed properly, too mortified from the events to analyze them properly just yet.

“It’s probably best if I go.” 

He makes a noise of dejected acceptance and his hands go into his pockets.

“I’m sorry about all this. Luther’s not got a great deal between the ears, but he'll be fine once he’s got his head around it.”

“At least the others don’t agree,” you consider for a moment. “I think I like them. They love you a lot.”

He nods, “Well, we’re dysfunctional as hell but we’ve got each other’s backs…I’m glad you feel that way.”

He walks you to the front door, down the stairs and past his siblings. He’s followed by a little boy who grabs his leg and clamors to be picked up. Over the child’s babble, Five introduces him to you. This is the famous nephew: Lila and Diego’s son, Santiago. You try to talk to him, wanting to make a good impression but he only buries his head shyly into Five’s leg.

“Can I take you out again tonight? Dancing?"

“I’d really like that,” you smile.

From the living room, you hear Lila shout: “If you’re going dancing, we’re coming!”

“No thank you.” says Five.

“Uncle Luther and Auntie Sloane will babysit, won’t you guys?”

“Uh- sure.”

Five addresses Santi in a carrying voice: “Santi won’t need babysitters, will he? Because Mommy and Daddy aren’t going to ruin Uncle Five’s date, are they?”

As Santi giggles, you again lay a hand on Five’s arm.

“It’s fine with me.”

You really do like Lila. In her own way, she’s been supportive from the start.

“You hear that Uncle Five? Mummy and Daddy are coming and Uncle Five can get bent!” then, addressing you, Lila says, “We’ll pick you up at seven and have drinks. Wear something slutty.”

“Sure,” you call back.

“Seven it is,” says Five, accepting but clearly not enthused by this change of plan. Putting a protesting Santi down, he leans forward and gives you a chaste kiss, prompting a wolf whistle from someone behind him and an ‘Ewww’ from Santi.

As you leave, he puts his mouth close to your ear, “Make sure you do wear something slutty.”

As the door clicks closed, Five re-joins his siblings in the living room, sitting down on one of the fireside arm-chairs and picking up a book he left on the side table. He swings his legs up on the arm of the chair, feeling their stares but studiously ignoring them. After a minute or so, he can't bear it any longer and looks up. Klaus, Diego and Lila all look at him, wearing identical shit-eating grins. Even Viktor looks a little mischievous. 

"What?" says Five, irritably.

"Nothing." said Diego, his tone making it clear that there was something.

Klaus gives a humming giggle. On Five shooting him an admonitory glare over the top of his book, Klaus raises both hands in a gesture of surrender.

"She seems nice."

"Yes. At least I think so." he said, stiffly, returning his eyes to the book and turning a page rather ostentatiously. 

Sloane tucks her hair behind her ear:

"It was...um...nice to meet her."

"Yes," agrees Luther, gruffly, apparently trying to make up for his earlier lack of support, "you seem very...fond of each other."

Diego sniggers now, "Is that what you call what you saw, Luther, 'fond'?"

Five huffs, crossing his ankles. It's going to be a long day.

Tag list: (lmk if you want to join) @dilfjohhny , @sunsunhe, @w4stedtr4sh,@nevbrooke-555

Masterpost

Alternatively, join me on A03.  Here is a link to the whole series

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagine #umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy smut #the umbrella academy five #umbrella academy number five #umbrella academy five x reader #umbrella academy five x you #five hargreaves x you #five hargreaves x reader #number five imagine #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves smut #number 5 #number 5 imagine #number five smut #number 5 x reader #number 5 x you #Hard Feelings #no hard feelings

[kingdom-keyz769]

Quadruplets brother au

(My other account got a revamp so I’m kickstarting this account off again with the au that I wanted to post years ago but I was too shy too. Hope I get to brain rot about this again!)(this is obviously almost 3 years old and not at all fleshed out as much as my current au’s are but we had to start somewhere right?😅.)

So this au has been in my head for SO long and I thought I’d share it.

It starts off with their mother and father who one day decided to have a baby. Well, they weren’t expecting 4. They only bought stuff for one baby and didn’t have enough money for the other three. But despite that they continued to try to raise the children anyway. They couldn’t and decided to put all of them up for adoption (because they didn’t want them separated).

All 4 end up in an adoption center ready to be adopted at any time. But, Something happened in the adoption system where the 4 were registered as just themselves and not as quadruplets. So all 4 were adopted around the same time but by different families.

Ventus was adopted by Aqua and Terra (the Way-Finders)

Vanitas was adopted by Xehanort with his sons Ansem, Xemnas and Xehanort Jr who they call junior (he’s just young Xehanort). (The dark family)

Sora was adopted by Aerith and Zach (the fairs)

Roxas was adopted by Cloud and Tifa (the strifes)

They spent about 4 years without each other until kindergarten where a mutual friend (an oc of mine don’t worry bout it rn) of there’s pointed out that they look the same, and even got confused with them (as people who aren’t used to twins, triplets etc do). The teacher notices this and is like “wait a minute-“ and calls for a conference with the parents. They immediately notice the similarities and get in touch with the adoption center. They figure out that the boys were in fact quadruplets and they go off on the center, I kid you not.

They do a lot of government stuff and all the parents become the legal guardians of the boys. I guess you can say that their co-parenting. Since they’re co-parenting, the boys switch houses every month or so.

Ok now time for other characters and their significance to the story.

Xion is their cousin. Her mother and father really wanted to stay in touch with the boys, and even help get the boys in contact with their birth parents (unsuccessfully).

Kairi and Naminé are twins in this au, kairi is sora’s childhood friend and Naminé is Roxas’.

Riku is Sora’s and Kairi’s childhood bestfriend. His parents go abroad often and because they’re so close to Aqua and Terra, Riku stays with them for most of the time.

Xemnas is Xehanort’s son. He started a bakery called “13” and everyone who works there are called the “organization members”.

Ansem is Xehanort’s oldest son,

Junior (young Xehanort) is a second year in college.

Aqua is a dance instructor, she has her own studio in radiant garden (which would be a country?? Ion know I didn’t think that far)

Extras:

Kairi part times at aerith’s flower shop and Naminé too when she has time.

Vani is really into rock and he’s saving up so one day he will go to one of his favorite band’s concert.

The boys actually have days where they all sit down and talk to get stuff off of their chest or just relax. They do it on Saturday since “Saturday is for the boys”

During their Saturday time they lock themselves in their room (of which ever house they’re in for that Saturday) with a sign on the door that says “keep out” and no one is allowed inside until they’re done.

#quadruplets brother au #kingdomkeyz #kingdom hearts #canon divergent au #modern au

[system-of-a-feather]

questions, if it’s ok! since we’re interested in having a fully fused state we can go into but ultimately want functional multiplicity:

1) do you have to do anything to prepare to go in/out of that state? like with triggering a switch - music, adjusting the environment, etc.

2) do you ever do temporary fusions that don’t include all parts?

3) do individual alters ever feel different (not necessarily in a bad way) when exiting that state, for example like do they get any pieces of traits from other alters while unfusing?

1) do you have to do anything to prepare to go in/out of that state? like with triggering a switch - music, adjusting the environment, etc.

Yes and no? Usually when we go into that state, we just kind of go with the flow. Often we notice it would be easier or feel ourselves drifting to a point where we are pretty fluid and its a matter of going "do we want to be fei for a bit" and just kinda like, mentally clicking a "yes" on that. Initiating it ourselves is a little more of a party trick that we could / possibly should work on some - we've done it here and there, particularly when the fully fused state was new and we wanted to practice holding it, existing in it, and communicating in it and a lot of that took a lot of... not quite "meditation" in the sense of sitting in the lotus position or anything, but an active internal engagement of parts to relax and let go.

Going into it and holding it, in my experience, is the harder of the skills to learn than leaving it / releasing it - which makes sense cause its not the usual state we've been living in for the past however long. Early on after realizing we COULD do it, we had a lot of issues holding it cause the smallest things would "over agitate" (for a lack of better words) one part too much (often Riku, too excitable) and they'd just pop out as an individual part. Usually that would then cascade into other parts looking over at them and going "RIKU GET BACK HERE WE WERE DOING THE THING WHAT ARE YOU DOING" and then it would cascade down for a while of everyone just going "bruh" in their own ways and form.

So going into it - in my experience - requires a lot of calm serenity within the parts near and around the front and so I think actively initiating it would probably require a good amount of ability to actually lower all active parties energy and all down some. That said, thats just our experience.

As for leaving it, it's pretty easy honestly. It's kinda like switching (assuming you have a pretty good grasp on switching when you want to) with just a little more intent behind it. As a fused state I actually can enjoy almost all the positive triggers of all the parts as me, but if I want to separate and / or get a specific part individually out, we just hyper engage that part and the things they like and go "yeah Im gonna be X now"

And like I said before, separating is so much easier than joining together. We just kind of throw a specific part of our brain a specific fixation and bone and they run off like a dog and usually when one of the regular fronters breaks off from Fei, the rest follow suit.

But usually both going in and out its a matter of noticing that its an option to do so and going "yeah you know sure" and - in funnier terms:

2) do you ever do temporary fusions that don’t include all parts?

Yep pretty frequently actually. Some parts its harder to track than others, like Riku does them A LOT and has arguably done them longer than any other part has - but its a lot harder for them to be aware of it as usually their partial fusions are with EPs and parts that don't speak so most of the time they don't really register until after the fact. XIV and Chunn tend to regularly do temporary fusions with one another and sometimes with Riku. A lot of parts don't have set in stone temporary fused states they return to yet, largely cause few have found a dynamic with another part where having that on/off again fusion is useful or productive or anything they're motivated to establishing as a somewhat regular occurrence. That said, XIV and Chunn do have that and they do it like, literally all the time.

3) do individual alters ever feel different (not necessarily in a bad way) when exiting that state, for example like do they get any pieces of traits from other alters while unfusing?

Oh yeah absolutely. Not like in this overt WOW TOTALLY DIFFERENT way, but more so in the sense that any lived experience - especially those in different and sometimes opposing perspectives - will almost always leave an impact and deeper insight into life that will change the overall way a person or part engages and sees the world.

You learn a lot about one another and from one another without explicitly having to talk or engage with it when you are fused together and honestly - every time we spend substantial amounts of time in Fei, we tend to have exponential growth and stability added to our system because the general mutual understanding seems to build A LOT over time.

Chunn had actually gone off about this before here because I think he honestly explains it better as its a lot more authentic and "raw" for a lack of better words.

You learn things while fused and carry over a lot of the "big picture" that is easier to see as a fused state when you separate back into individual parts as - generally speaking - the memories tend to be shared by all parts engaged in the fused state.

Again though, this is all just my experience honestly so take it as you will.

#alter: fei #ask #asks #final fusion #functional multiplicity #wishiwashi recovery #actuallydid #dissociative identity disorder

[kamotoshi]

so here we are on day 2 of what I thought was gonna be a week long break bc I had an epiphany that I suddenly felt the desire to share! so if you wanna read maybe like settle in bc I kinda wrote a lot (but is that new? no)

my brain! she doesn’t understand how to like... take something she likes and just enjoy it. everything always has to be a project or a task to be finished or a goal to reach. I’ve never been like hey my name’s fran and I like writing fanfiction! it’s always been hey my name’s fran and I like writing fanfiction so I'm gonna force myself to constantly come up with fic ideas and push out content bc I must be a workhorse and I don’t understand that not everything has to be methodical and meticulously planned and perfect!

I literally took writing (something I enjoy) and turned it into work (something I very much do not enjoy) all bc of this restless brain of mine and my extremely present anxiety that almost requires that I do something to prevent a crisis like every second of the damn day. I'm v tired of agonizing over both what I am doing and what I'm not doing. it’s exhausting when you’re already waiting for the time when you can go back to bed again the instant you get up lol

so I’m just gonna change my perspective here! I'm gonna try to stop guilting myself for every wip that sits without any additional progress being made, and for each one I knock off the list bc I'm just not that into it anymore. I'm gonna try to stop telling myself I HAVE to make content in order to make y’all happy. I'm gonna try to silence the little negative voice that always pops into my head each time I read or see something great that says “damn what happened with you, huh?” I'm gonna stop trying to measure my success by how many followers I have or how much work I do bc this is literally FOR FUN and it’s something I do IN MY FREE TIME bc it’s meant to be ENJOYABLE. 

and! I'm gonna stop takin this blog so damn seriously! like shit! if I'm here, I'm here and I'm chattin/writin, and if I'm not, I'm not! who tf do I think I am like damn!!! we’re all just out here! doing our own things! goin for it! doin that! it’s all good! (like we really owe each other nothing in the grand scheme of it all if we're bein 100% honest here)

anyway I went thru a similar revelation with the whole notes crisis (in which notes became another success metric for me) but now I dont give a rat’s ass which is saying A LOT (bc I'm secretly an attention whore. maybe not as secretly as I think tho). I write my fics and I send em out into the cyberspace to be free bc as long as I enjoyed it then we’re good! and the whole reason I'm here in the first place is to share things in the hopes that maybe someone else likes it too! whatever happens happens! bc I sure as hell know I'll go back and gas myself up on somethin that only got like five notes!!

the productivity loop that I am stuck in (as well as many other members of society) is seriously powerful. and I know it’s gonna take a LOT of effort on my part to wrestle the controllers to my life away from bully! fran who’s stubborn and angry like the lil bull she is, but! I have hope bc I'm at least willing to try.

so, after I've just said I aint gotta explain shit to nobody, here I am explaining my shit to y’all *head in hands* BUT I'm writing this bc I felt like it, bc I'm ready to hold myself accountable, and just to put things into perspective for a sec. if you read this far I'll say “damn you must kinda like me huh 🥺” at the risk of sounding like the dude who says “in the shower? without me?”

with that being said, I'll be around when I'm around! come to my inbox whenever you want, I keep extra pillows and blankets and s'mores-building kits in there for whenever y’all wanna camp. I'm hoping my blog can continue to be a positive space for everyone to sit back and watch me clown myself unapologetically 😌 thank you for comin to my ted talk

#fran's ramblin #click the read more for a rant lmfao #I really popped off #but to be fair there's been a lot on my mind that I really wanted to just get off my chest #like I literally feel so much better now that ive written this #idc who reads it I'm just happy it was said #and that my brain has now registered the fact that we are going to switch to a more positive mindset #*or try to at least #anyway daily reminder I love yall #and I'm still gonna figure out how tf to actually maintain a queue for the sake of my sanity #tw anxiety

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

deancas highschool au, 1.8k.

dean's pretty sure it all comes down to being sam's fault.

kid had walked into their last scooby doo marathon without warning at eleven friggin' pm, startling both cas and him (because they watch scooby doo like it's meant to be watched — with all their concentration, goddammit) and consequently causing dean to knock over the bowl of popcorn and get its contents all over (and some inside) the couch.

fast forward from there to the next time dean asked mary if cas could sleep over, and her immediate condition being that they conduct the grand bingewatch (a necessary element of the dean-cas sleepovers) in dean's room instead of the living room, as she could not possibly handle finding more popcorn under the cushions of the damn sofa than she'd already been fishing for, the last two weeks.

so there.

it is absolutely and indisputably sam's fault that dean is right now half-propped up in bed next to his best friend, with a laptop on his lap and fellowship of the ring playing on it, unable to think about anything except the way their arms press against each other, knees brush, and cas's head ends up looming too close to dean's shoulder to not be resting on it.

oh, and how good cas looks in the almost-dark, lit by whatever's happening — dean knows exactly what's happening — on the screen.

just because.

it's past two — which translates to way too late for a gay awakening o'clock — but dean's pretty sure if his heart keeps beating at this rate till morning, he's going to wake up in an ambulance.

this has never happened before. being this conscious of wherever they're touching, this excited about it, or this intent on stealing glances when he's sure he won't be caught. (okay, maybe that one's happened before but it's beside the point.) put together, it is alien and disconcerting.

and dean's not an idiot. he knows — he thinks he knows what's happening. and he knows it's not supposed to feel like a switch flipping because these things — and that's about all of the clarity he can afford — happen over time. and yet it's like he's walked headfirst into a wall on this weird, weird night.

the only thing he knows for sure is that he's never felt this way before. not towards cas, not towards anyone.

well, there's also never been an anyone (else).

but screw semantics — dean's terrified.

and it's entirely sam's fault, obviously, which is why the next time dean sees the little bastard, he's going to —

"dean."

it's cas, interrupting his very subtle, manageable breakdown in his endearingly familiar why-aren't-you-already-paying-attention-to-me voice.

dean hits pause, pressing the spacebar and turning to face his cas-shaped dilemma in the eye. "what, you sleepy already?"

"of course not." cas's tone is haughty, like one of somebody who hasn't been the first one asleep in a single sleepover in the past. dean takes the blow with grace, because he friggin' deserves that. he's been ashamed of himself every, single, morning-after. "i was just wondering if the movie," cas tilts his head towards the screen. "isn't disturbing your parents or your brother. i don't think we've ever watched anything past midnight in your room before."

trust me, dean's brain supplies, i know.

but cas does have a point. there's plenty of loud noises in lotr, and the walls aren't particularly thick. and the last thing he wants right now is for dad to come see why they're not asleep yet, and find them friggin' huddled together on a single.

not that dean minds it.

"well," dean frowns. "what do you suggest? it is sorta late to switch to sleepover games, by the way, if you were planning on saying 'never have i ever'."

"we could use your earphones." cas says, like it's the most obvious thing. "and neither of us ever win in 'never have i ever', dean. or lose, actually. we know each each other too well. why would i suggest that?"

but dean's already stuck on a previous part of cas's sentence. "m-my earphones?"

cas blinks at him. "yes?"

dean swallows.

"unless you want to play 'never have i ever'?"

dean swats at cas for that, which the latter tries to dodge by pushing dean with both hands, until dean's wriggling and swearing at him to stop trying to put him through the wall because either they really are cosied up in that little space, or being in the middle of a really important realization makes you go soft on your opponent.

when cas finally lets dean go with a self-satisfied grin, dean only falters for a moment before planting the laptop on cas indelicately and knee-waddling to the end of the bed to get to his desk.

he finds his extremely well-used black earphones soon enough and returns to his spot, where cas shifts hardly an inch to give him his due space, resulting in dean well and truly sandwiched between the wall and cas, because his best friend is a jackass like that. and of course, the only reasons dean leans further towards cas with practised annoyance etched on his face is because it's the kind of annoying he's supposed to be, and it's october and the wall is cold.

cas, on the other hand, is really not.

"what are you waiting for?" cas grumbles, eyes squinty at dean in the dark, and dean makes a face at him, plugging it in (without needing to look, not that he'd've been able to see a thing in the dark anyways), and offering cas the left earplug.

which cas promptly puts in his left ear — the one that's farther away — because he's cas, and things like which earplug is meant for which ear, matter to him.

dean friggin' loves him.

and it's some time after dean's put the right one in his left ear — because he's not cas is why, and their heads are close enough already — and they've hit play and settled into the comfortable silence of watching a movie they've both seen at least five times in the past and dean's actually begun to pay attention, that he absolutely freezes in his metaphorical tracks, the entire world stuttering to a halt as he tries to register that last thought.

he loves cas.

he said it to himself. he said he loved him.

and that's just goddamn it.

he loves cas.

dean's eyes flit to cas, who's watching the movie without having any life-altering revelations, stuffing his mouth full of popcorn every five minutes (a habit dean can proudly claim to have been responsible for fostering in the first place), not smiling but with a corner of his lip pulled up like he ends up unconsciously doing whenever he's really paying attention, his profile only half-lit with colors, and his closeness suddenly so incredibly flustering.

yeah, well. you've known it for a while, the voice in dean's head that's not exactly his, returns. haven't you?

and maybe he has.

or maybe he hasn't, and it really does feel like a switch flipping for some people. people like him who're zoning out watching lord of the rings one moment, and smitten with their best friends the second.

it doesn't really matter either way, does it?

it's 2:37 am when dean turns his head to the movie again.

inarguably far too late for anything to matter to dean other the fact that he knows. the fact that he knows that he's in love with cas. and the fact that he is.

(maybe he can think of ways to ask him out tomorrow.

or next week.

or maybe he'll chicken out a thousand times until he finally ends up stuttering his way through a severely practised-in-the-mirror confession eight months later, and cas will smile that smile he reserves for dean, and say he can't make it friday because of astronomy club, and dean'll blush even harder because he knew that, he knows that dammit, and then cas will suggest thursday instead, and thursday will be too soon and way too terrifying and just perfect. and then they'll live happily ever after.)

but dean's got all the time in the world to sort out — read: lose his shit over — the maybe's.

right now? being in love with cas is enough.

and being here, watching the last sixteen minutes of one of their mutually favorite movies in bed with his best friend and love of his life, is perfect.

*

dean does end up falling asleep first, yet again, cause turns out achieving self-awareness and spontaneous living-in-the-moment prowess don't do shit to help with being less of an embarrassment.

but this time, he gets to wake up with an arm slotted around his waist, and a warm castiel curled up close behind him, still fast asleep and breathing in light puffs down dean's tshirt, so maybe, just maybe, he doesn't have to chalk this one up as a loss after all.

doesn't mean cas still won't be a smugfaced little shit about it though.

but then, that's probably one of the things dean winchester loves about him anyway.

#destiel #destiel hs au #deancas fluff #(they're 16 and happy is all you need to know) #bluefirecas #rambleoncas #tearsofgrace #seffersonjtarship #userpris #usersila #holmesemrys #casthyelle #userstarry #it reads like a drabble because i was trying to experiment with my writing style a little. it was definitely fun. #oh and self projections galore >:) #smiledean #rainbowscas #alivedean #seraphcastiel #oh writing my writing

[fairyhee]

Chocolate eclairs (pt.2)

{Part 1}

🍫 optional bias x reader

🍫 ~5.6k words

🍫 smut, enemies to lovers, slight dom/sub themes, praise kink, some dirty talk, oral (both receiving), face sitting (whew), reader has a thing for hands

(I might have dragged everything out for too long? I’m not sure, you tell me, but I just love thinking about all the details so I went with it. Also while I was writing, at some point I lost half of it and had to re-write it because the damn app didn’t save my changes to the draft 🙃 anyways thank you for reading!)

So far, nothing was going as planned today, but somehow you didn’t mind it anymore. At first you were extremely annoyed to say the least, but you slowly started to think having a tall and ridiculously handsome guy follow you around wasn’t so bad after all. Even though he was purposely being irritating, as always, just to get reactions out of you, it was worth enduring for the random flirty remarks he spat out every once in a while. Was he always like this? Did you only realize it now because you were too busy thinking how obnoxiously confident he was, or did he really also dislike you before? You were quite confused, but you at least thought you should enjoy the moment.

After buying those damn chocolate eclairs that you had been craving for a week, and after he insisted to pay, all while poking fun at how you were gonna die at a young age from how much sugar you consume, your next stop would have been the lingerie store. Except now you had him coming along with you, so you weren’t very sure what you should do. To buy some time, you pretended to look at all the stereotypically “romantic” objects that people usually gifted each other on Valentine’s day. Just for fun, you weren’t planning on hinting at anything, but you just wanted to see what he’d be like. Not to mention window shopping was one of your favorite activities when you had nothing else better to do. He, on the other hand, had his mind fixed on one thing solely.

“Y/n, aren’t we eating those eclairs? You didn’t want them just to carry them around, did you?” he asked with a pout.

“Excuse me, since when is there a ‘we’? They’re my eclairs, and I’m saving them for later. I told you I have plans, were you even listening to me?”

“You have plans, right. Well you should be careful then, that boyfriend you have plans with might get jealous if he sees you walking around with a guy like me. I honestly wouldn’t blame him if he felt threatened, after all, you just let the most handsome dude around here buy you coffee and sweets...oh wait, I forgot. You actually don’t have a boyfriend, do you now?” he said in a sarcastic tone. 

“It’s extremely funny that you think I need a man in order to have plans on Valentine’s day. I can very well take care of myself, thank you very much.”

“You can take care of yourself in what way exactly? Because if it’s what I’m thinking of, I bet I can do it better.”

“Thank you for your concern, h/n, but if you think you can buy your way into my pants with some sweets, then you have a very low and unrealistic expectation of me. If you want to impress me, try harder.”

“Oh don’t worry, this is far from my best shot. You just look so hot when you’re mad at me, I can’t stop myself.” he said with a sheepish laugh.

You blushed slightly, both at his words and from seeing him grinning so cutely. He had no business looking all cute like that after he had just literally suggested you sleep with him. How could he switch from being so cocky to getting shy for you in just a matter of seconds? You couldn’t help but wonder what he’d actually be like in bed. Especially since he had just showed a new side of him, a particular image of him being submissive to you was stuck on your brain. You could feel your face heating up, and you hoped he didn’t notice how red your cheeks had probably become.

Brushing it off, you entered a random toy store, feigning interest in some plushies. As you were admiring the various teddy bears that came in all shapes and colors, you noticed he had been surprisingly silent since your last exchange. You threw a glance at him and he seemed to have found some games he was interested in, as he had his eyebrows furrowed, trying to read the instructions on the back of some boxes. Perfect, you thought to yourself, now that he’s distracted, you could think of a plan. What the hell were you gonna do about the lingerie? You didn’t want to give up on buying it, you had wanted it for a long time and now was the perfect occasion. Did you want to go with him? Would he want to even enter the store with you? Would he become flustered and make things awkward? Would it be weird if you suddenly told him to leave you alone for a couple of minutes and meet you later? Or should you just end your meeting right there? You weren’t even sure how you wanted to spend the rest of the day anymore, but you for sure didn’t intend to abandon your plans completely for this man that barged into your solo Valentine’s day like that, despite the fact that you were starting to get interested in him.

While you were definitely overthinking the situation, h/n had long finished browsing the board games section. Suddenly, you felt someone’s hot breath near the side of your neck. 

“Y/n. You’ve been staring at that teddy bear for 3 minutes now. Did you not have any as a child, or do you want me to buy it for you that bad? You could just ask, you know.” 

Startled by the proximity of his voice, you turned your head to him and took a few steps away. “Wow, you sure have a talent for being rude. You’re still annoying even when you’re trying to hit on me.” you said trying to seem unaffected. However, you would lie if you said that feeling his breath on your skin didn’t send shivers down your spine. 

He chuckled at your reaction and slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 

“So? Do you want it or not?”

“With that sort of attitude, I shouldn’t even answer. So what if I wanted it, what would you do? There’s nothing between us, so why would you buy it for me?” you taunted. You knew he was trying to make you soften up, but you weren’t falling for it just yet.

“Who said I’d buy it for you? If I did and you ended up sleeping with a stuffed toy every night, that would just be unfair.” he pouted. Why was he acting this cute now? This man was so confusing.

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“I don’t wanna be jealous of a teddy bear. I’d rather you would sleep with me instead.”

You stared at his triumphant smile for a few seconds, at a loss for words. He looked like he just made the best pick-up line ever. It was so bad, yet you wanted to accept his wish and take him home. What was wrong with you? 

“You’re absolutely obnoxious, did you know that? Wipe that smirk off your face, you look like an idiot.”

He laughed. “But somehow you’re still putting up with me. I’d say you’re doing a great job enduring me. Unless...you’re actually enjoying my company, which I suspect you do.”

“Yeah, whatever. Come on, I have one more thing to get before I can finally go home and get rid of you.”

You had made up your mind. You weren’t letting any man interfere with your plans.

Walking in the most confident way possible, you entered the lingerie store. You didn’t even spare him a glance as you looked through the pieces, searching for something that would match your taste. You were dying to know what his reaction was, what he was thinking, but you weren’t giving in. Suddenly, you had an idea. Acting like what you were doing was the most normal thing, you picked out two options, pretending you couldn’t decide between them. One was a black see-through set adorned with velvet hearts, while the other was made out of red lace and a bunch of straps that looked like a harness. Either way, both were made more to reveal rather than cover you up. Holding one in each hand, you turned to look at him with an unfazed expression plastered on your face.

“Make yourself useful for once and help me decide. Which one do I get?”

Seeing the way he was looking at you made a flush of heat spread across your face. His eyes were dark and he looked like he would have devoured you right then and there. You didn’t know what you expected, but this look was definitely not it.

He took a few seconds to respond, during which his gaze on you only seemed to intensify. He almost looked angry, clenching his jaw and eyeing you so strongly.

“You’d look great in both, but I’d take the red one.”

Hearing his choice, you immediately hung it back on the rack and took your other option to the cash register. 

You heard him scoff behind you. “Why bother asking me if you were gonna pick that one anyway?”. He was smiling, but it was clear that he was trying to control his frustration. 

You gave him the sweetest smile in the world. “I liked both equally and couldn’t decide, so I’m getting the one you like less. Since you’re never gonna see me wearing it anyway.”

“You drive me insane. That makes absolutely no sense.”

“Really? But you’re the one that’s been following me around all day. Now you’re angry with me, how come?” you said innocently.

He smirked and took a few steps until he was so close, you could feel his hot breath on your face, but you didn’t back away and maintained his gaze. His scent was intoxicating, and you were trying your best to not show how into him you were already.

“If you want to make me angry, you’ll have to try harder, babygirl.” you clenched your thighs hearing that word escape his lips. “I like your teasing a little too much, actually. But making me imagine you wearing all these pretty things only to point out that I can’t have you the way I want? I have to admit, that was pretty mean.”

“Are you challenging me? Then I guess I need to step up my game to really get back at you.”

“Alright then, let’s make a deal. If you fail to make me angry by tonight, you have to go on a date with me. What do you say?”

You couldn’t stop the smirk forming on the corner of your lips. “Deal. You know, now I kinda understand why you keep bothering me. It’s actually fun trying to get you annoyed.” This time you weren’t lying.

He smiled back at you. “Glad we’re on the same page about one thing at least. So, any other torturous shopping that we need to do today? An adult store, maybe, since you said you like to take care of things yourself?”

“Nice try. I actually have a table reserved for later today, so I’m gonna have to go home and get ready. I wanted to go alone and have some me-time, but since I don’t plan on losing that challenge, I guess now you gotta come with me.”

He stopped in his tracks. “Wait a second,”he said and put the back of his palm on your forehead as if checking for a fever, “now it sounds like you’re the one asking me out. What happened? Are you okay?” he asked in an overly dramatic way. Oh great, now he was back to being the town circus. 

“It’s not a date, silly. Hopefully, it’s gonna be the worst dinner of your life, so I won’t have to see your face ever again.”

“You do know that I could just not show up and make you lose the bet, right?”

“If you do that, you won’t get my number. So no way to receive your prize.” Besides, you thought to yourself, wasn’t tonight already a date in itself? There was no way he would skip on that, or at least so you hoped. “See you at 6.” you said as you walked away, leaving him behind. 

By now your only desire was to get him totally whipped for you. He might have seen through your intentions already, but you couldn’t care less. The fights and arguments that were real in the beginning had now become an act, some sort of game to see which one of you would give in first. And you weren’t backing down until you had him completely wrapped around your finger. This year’s V-day turned out to be a lot more fun than you initially thought. 

After getting home, you took your sweet time showering and making yourself as pretty as possible. Having drenched yourself in perfume and strawberry scented body lotion, you put on the new lingerie and a red dress that complimented your figure. You did some minimal, but flattering make-up and took a good look in the mirror. You looked good enough to eat. Exactly what you wanted.

By the time you arrived at the restaurant, he was already waiting for you, and you realized he had probably tried just as hard as you to look hot. And he had definitely done a great job. His hair was pushed back and the suit jacket he was wearing highlighted his broad shoulders and tall figure. You wanted him to push you against a wall right then and there.

“Are you sure you’re not made out of sugar? You look so good, I’m afraid that if I touch you, you’d melt under my fingers.”

“You wish. I don’t even get a hi, you start our conversation with a lame pick-up line? This evening is going to be even more boring than I thought.” you said rolling your eyes.

“It’s good to see you again too. Come on, let’s order quickly, I’m starving.” he said as he was already looking through the menu.

After this first exchange, the rest of the dinner actually went on pretty normally. Without realizing, you had gotten comfortable with each other and stopped arguing altogether. Now you were just chatting about whatever came to mind, enjoying your meals and each other’s company. However, you did notice his eyes lingering a little too long on your exposed neck and chest, which you did your best to bring forward as much as you could when you moved around. You were hyper aware of his gaze on every move you made and you loved the attention he was giving you. You felt like you were the only woman in the room for him, the only one that deserved his attention. You suddenly remembered you were supposed to get him angry, but you weren’t sure you didn’t want a second date after all. However, you felt the need to say something about it.

“Look at all these couples enjoying their romantic dinner, and then there’s us. Here for the sole purpose of annoying each other.”

“If that was the purpose, I’d call this an epic fail.” he said with a smile and took a sip of his gin tonic,”So you still don’t want to admit that this is, in fact, a date?”

“Why would it be one, when we haven’t done anything out of the ordinary? We are just two people eating out together.”

“Good thing the evening isn’t over, then. Great choice of restaurant, by the way. But even though the food was amazing, I’d still prefer eating you out.” 

His bluntness caught you off guard, and you let the glass you were previously holding down on the table with a little more force than intended. From the impact, your drink splashed everywhere, including on yourself.

You moved a bit of the fabric of your dress away so you could wipe the martini drops that had just spilled on your chest, which uncovered the strap and the top part of your bra for a few seconds. You didn’t think much of it, but heard him swallow loudly. When you raised your eyes back to meet his, he was looking at you like he wanted to undress you with his eyes.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Did what on purpose?” you asked confused.

“Don’t act so innocent, you know exactly what I’m saying.”

“No idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, care for dessert? You need some sugar in your system, you seem to be turning grim again.”

“If by dessert you mean you, then I’ll gladly accept. You have enough sugar to keep me up for a long time.” he said with a smirk.

“Oh god, can you cut the disgusting jokes out? You make me sick.” 

“You’ll be even more disappointed to find out they’re not jokes. By the way,” he leaned over the table so he could bring his face a little closer to yours, “we’ve almost finished our drinks and you still haven’t made me angry. Time is ticking.” 

You fell silent for a couple of seconds, and played with your necklace while deep in thought. You were done playing this game. You wanted him, and you wanted him tonight. You wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but ever since you stepped foot in that place all you had been imagining were his veiny hands all over your body, how pretty his long fingers were and how much you wanted them inside you. He hadn’t even touched you once, but your panties were feeling damp already just by staring at his hands or seeing him clenching his jaw. You hadn’t noticed that your fidgeting with your necklace had caught his attention and he was now practically staring at your boobs without any hint of shame in his eyes. Your chest was heaving up and down as his eyes set your skin ablaze and your thoughts ran wild. Of course his gaze didn’t miss your heavy breathing. His fist was clenched on his glass and the veins on his arm protruded even more than usual. Your brain was so intoxicated with him that it completely forgot how to form sentences, leaving him without a reply. He leaned closer to you over the table and all but whispered.

“Just say the words, and I’ll give you whatever you want. All you have to do is say it.”

You hesitated, questioning whether you should swallow your pride or not. You stared into his deep brown eyes, glistening with lust, and admired his plump, slightly parted lips, silently pleading for you to stop this stupid game and finally admit what you’re feeling for each other. He was done playing, and so were you.

“It’s finally time for those eclairs.” 

A knowing smile spread on his face, as if he had just won the lottery.

The ride to your place was awfully silent. You felt like you could cut the tension in the atmosphere with a knife. Sitting near him in the back of the cab and just feeling his presence so close to you kept your skin burning up during the entire ride. He still hadn't touched you in the slightest, not even on your hand, and at this point you thought it was intentional just so you'd become desperate for him. It was working. It felt like the drive was taking ages, so you decided to have some fun and tease him a little.

You slowly slid your hand over your legs, starting from your knees and going up towards the hem of your dress, pulling it up ever so slightly. He noticed your movements instantly, and his eyes snapped to you. Now that you were assured he was watching, your hand traveled further under your dress, carefully so it doesn't reveal too much, and started running your own fingers across your damp panties.

His eyes widened, and you saw his adam's apple move when he swallowed a lump in his throat. "What do you think you're doing?" he whispered.

"What does it look like to you? I am an independent woman. Since you have not laid a hand on me all day, I'm doing it myself."

"You're an impatient one, aren't you?" you maintained his gaze but didn't stop your actions, slipping a finger underneath your underwear and whimpering ever so quietly, enough for only him to hear. You were determined to bring him down.

Like you had just pressed a button, his body reacted to your sounds faster than expected. The vein on his hand twitched as he quickly grabbed your wrist and held it in place.

"If you don't stop that, I’ll make sure you have trouble walking tomorrow." his words sent a shiver down your spine. With that, he firmly pulled your hand away and intertwined his fingers with yours, as if preventing you from causing more trouble. You decided to obey him, for now.

After a couple of minutes, you were arriving at your place. He followed you silently into the building and into the small elevator, where you were met with another crisis. He looked like he tried really hard to restrain himself as he leaned with his back and head against the mirror. He was looking at you through furrowed brows and hooded eyes, and you wondered why did he put himself through this struggle, when he could’ve had you right then and there. Pretending to check your mascara in the mirror behind him, you placed one hand on his chest and leaned over him, your face dangerously close to his neck, making sure your exposed cleavage pressed against him in the process. You didn’t care how obvious it was, he was clearly enjoying it. He did nothing but watch you, but his sigh and accelerating breath rate were giving him away. As soon as you reached your level, you instantly shot out of the elevator and got to your door in record time. 

The moment you set foot into the apartment and closer the door behind you, any control that you had before, just vanished into thin air. 

“Fucking finally”. He wasted no time in pressing you against the wall, both hands holding the sides of your face while he kissed you with all the pent up frustration from that day. You could feel his whole body onto you and yet you wanted more, your hands grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and tugging at it in an attempt to bring him even closer. His lips were soft but aggressive at the same time, the kiss neither too intense nor too slow, earning chills all over your spine the first time his warm tongue entered your mouth. It was still not enough, so you took over and laced your fingers at the back of his head, pulling on his hair while pushing yourself into him. His hands started traveling down your body, gripping your waist and hips with force as he pulled you even closer, making you feel his erection against you in the process. 

Out of breath, you broke the kiss to take a good look at him in this state. He was looking at you through glossy, hooded eyes, with his plump lips parted and glistening from the intensity of your kiss. He looked so hot, you realized you might not make it to the bedroom. 

Closing in the distance once again, his hands went to squeeze your ass through your dress as he started placing wet kisses down the side of your neck, painfully slowly, sending shivers all over your spine. You lifted a leg up to snake around his own, as if to invite his hands to stop wasting time and get under your skirt already.

“You’re surprisingly gentle for someone who’s been trying to get into my pants all day.” you felt him squeeze your ass harder, and he suddenly bit the soft skin under your ear and sucked on it, earning a gasp from you.

He didn’t reply, but instead slid his hand up your thigh and ran his fingers over your soaking panties.

“And you’re surprisingly wet for someone who supposedly hates me.” he teasingly rubbed the tip of his finger on your clothed clit, making you whine in response. It was almost as if the fabric wasn’t there at all, given how thin it was in the first place. “What did you buy this pretty underwear for, just to ruin it later?”

“Since when do you care about my lingerie?”

“I thought you wanted me to, since you brought me with you to that store and even asked for my opinion.” He pushed your panties to the side and properly coated his fingers with your juices. “You were such a dirty little slut for doing that to me.” his words shot straight to your core.

“Me, dirty? That little head of yours has a lot of issues. It’s your own fault for liking me in the first place.” you teased.

Hearing that, he pushed two fingers into your hole and you moaned. “You can talk shit all you want, but your body can’t lie about how much you want me, princess.” He pulled his hand away from your core, and took his own fingers, now coated with your essence, into his mouth, licking them clean. “Now be a good girl and take this dress off for me.” he said, pulling away from you. 

Not wanting to torture yourself any longer, you obeyed him, getting rid of your dress as quickly as possible. As he finally fully saw you in the pretty underwear, he eyed you from head to toe, as if he was looking at his prey, swallowing loudly. “Y/n, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” 

You pushed him back and led him to the couch, making him sit down. You quickly straddled his lap, making sure your boobs were right in his face as you grabbed the hair at the back of his head and brought your mouth to his ear, licking a stripe up from the side of his neck, reaching his earlobe. He shivered under you, and you started unbuttoning his shirt, while both his hands stroked over your boobs, touching your nipples and lightly pinching and twisting them over the thin material of the bra. The sensation was spreading into your entire body, making you moan right into his ear. You nibbled onto his earlobe, and he sighed loudly, grabbing your ass and pulling you on top of his dick, grinding into you. Your fingers ran over his now exposed chest and down to his belt, trying to get it undone. He grabbed your hands and undid it himself, and you stood up so he could get rid of his pants. 

Instead of sitting back on his lap, you dropped to your knees in between his legs and pulled his underwear down. His cock looked so red and hard, it seemed almost painful, and made your mouth water. You wanted to torture him some more though, so you stuck your tongue out and slowly ran it up from the base to his swollen tip, all while looking directly into his eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed and he was biting his lower lip so hard, as if to keep him from making any sound. You were going to change that. You swirled your tongue around the tip, collecting the drops of precum, before taking him whole into your mouth. As you started bobbing your head, you made sure to take a little more of him each time, pushing your own limit gradually, looking up at him from time to time. “Fuck, you look so pretty like this. You’re taking me so well.” he said, trying to keep himself from forming any other sounds, and you wondered why wasn’t he letting go already. You wanted to make him a moaning mess. One of your free hands started playing with his balls, as you ran your nails across his thigh with the other one. Going a little deeper, his cock hit the back of your throat, and you paused for a second, swallowing around him, which earned a long, breathy moan from him. There, that was your reward. You continued taking him as deep as you could, looking up at him with wide eyes. This was his breaking point, as he couldn’t control his sounds anymore, his mouth was agape, letting out small grunts and whimpers now and then, and you felt his hips struggling to keep still. As the ache in your pussy was getting unbearable because of your actions, your own hand came to play with your clit to get some sort of release, moaning around his cock. 

He didn’t miss this, as suddenly, his hand flew to your hair and he held you still. “Don’t you dare touch yourself. Get up” he said in a demanding voice. He followed you up himself, and completely slid his shirt and underwear off of him, then laid down on the carpet. “I want you to sit on my face. Let me have my dessert and enjoy you like you deserve.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. After discarding your panties, you placed your knees on either side of his head and carefully lowered your cunt closer to him, but he grabbed your ass and aggressively pulled you onto his mouth, making you gasp and grip the couch beside you for support. The feeling of his wet and warm tongue against you was making your thighs weak. He started by licking a long stripe across your folds, then alternated between sucking at your clit, drawing patterns with his tongue across your sensitive spot at different paces and intensities. Your sounds and whimpers were a mess, and you could feel your orgasm building with each second. He was eating you out like a starved man, face buried completely under your pussy, and the view was only contributing to your arousal. One of his hands snaked up to your nipple and started playing with it, adding to the sensation. When he suddenly applied more pressure to a certain angle, you thought you were gonna lose your mind. “Fuck, h/n, right there, please, don’t stop” was what you wanted to say, but you weren’t sure your words came out coherently. Either way, he got the message, and a few seconds later, you were coming undone on his tongue, letting out a few high-pitched moans as he helped you ride out your high.

After regaining composure, you stood up to let him breathe. His lips and chin were glistening from your juices, and he wiped them off with the back of his hand. “That was delicious. You’re a fucking goddess, did you know that?” he said as he stood himself up, grabbed your face and kissed you with force.

“Just fuck me already.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice.” he said as he pushed you against your table, having you lie down on it. He quickly grabbed a condom from his jeans and rolled it on his still painfully hard cock. Grabbing your legs and holding them on each side of him, he rubbed the tip of his member over your clit a few times before fully pushing it into your tight hole, swearing in the process. He wasted no time before moving, slowly at first to let you adjust, then suddenly slammed his hips into you with force, earning a loud moan from you. “Fuck, do that again, please” you said, already feeling your second orgasm starting to build up. He thrusted into you harder and deeper, filling the room with your sounds everytime his skin met yours. The way he filled you up was absolutely delicious, clouding your vision and making you lose yourself in your pleasure as he was hitting all the right spots inside you. 

“Ever since your brought me into that store, all I could think of was fucking you in your pretty lingerie, imagining how your boobs would bounce up and down while I pound into you like this.” you took his hand and brought it to your lips, silently asking him to let you suck onto his fingers. “You don’t know how much of a torture that wa- fuck” you took his long and pretty fingers into your mouth and swirled your tongue around them, mimicking the way you sucked him off earlier and watching him lose his ability to speak as his mouth hung open. “H/n, harder, don’t stop, I’m going to come.” you said in a desperate attempt to get him to shut up and concentrate. Motivated by your words, he increased his pace, and after a few more hard and sloppy thrusts, you reached your second orgasm, soon followed by his own. His whole body twitched as he came down from his high, both of you panting, and exhausted.

Pulling out of you, he quickly discarded the condom and took you into his arms to place both you and him comfortably on the couch.

“That was fucking hot” he said, still holding you in his arms while you were catching your breaths. 

“Yeah. I think I might hate you a little less after this.” you said and you both laughed.

After coming back to your senses, you got up and went straight to the kitchen. A few seconds later, you came back holding the box he bought you from the french bakery, handing him an eclair.

“I knew why I saved those chocolate eclairs for later. They taste better after you’ve been craving them all day, don’t you think?”

He just smiled in response. “You might be right. By the way, I won. It seems like you’ll be drinking ice americanos again, after all.”

#optional bias smut #optional bias x reader #optional bias scenarios #optional bias #oneus smut #ateez smut #bts smut #skz smut #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #keonhee smut #kpop fanfic #the boyz smut

[maddieinwonder]

Bait & Switch

Spencer Reid x GN!BAU!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None, super fluffy 

Word Count: 3.5k words 

Plot: Reader reveals that they’re going to buy a Nintendo Switch so Spencer invites them to go together with him. In the process, some feelings reveal themselves.  

Author’s Note: My first time writing about Spencer, and actually, my first time writing a fic in a long time haha. Just imagine that this takes place in 2017, although you don’t have to know anything about the Switch in order to read this.

Masterlist

-------------- 

"What's got you in such a good mood, baby?" Derek asked, leaning over his chair. Even without looking up, you could feel the smirk that decorated his face. After almost a month at the BAU, you didn’t need to be a profiler to expect this much from Derek. "Got a date this weekend?"

You tried to focus on your paperwork before relenting, rolling your eyes. Still, you couldn't hide the smile in your voice when you shot back a reply. "With this job? You wish, Morgan."

"Give yourself some credit, beautiful. With your looks I'm sure you could score a good looking fellow for a night you won't forget."

"I'm sure you would know all about that," you replied, this time grinning from ear to ear.

Ever since you joined the BAU, your seat has always been across Derek Morgan. The guy was a terrible flirt but also one of the most trustworthy people you knew, so you couldn't keep up a sarcastic mood for long.

"Actually," you replied genuinely, "I'll be lining up this weekend to buy a Nintendo Switch." Out of the corner of your eye, you could sense Spencer stiffen in his chair next to you.

"A what switch?" Derek asked, his face scrunching up in confusion.

But before you could begin to reply him, Spencer rolled his chair over and opened his mouth. The both of you knew what was coming.

"The Nintendo Switch. A video game console developed by Japanese company Nintendo that's completely one-of-its-kind, on account of its console functioning like a tablet that can either be docked on a home console and linked to a TV, or used as a portable device with two wireless controllers so you can..."

Not being able to help yourself, you giggled at his info dump. You've always admired how much knowledge he could store in his big brain. But more importantly, you thought he was kind of cute like this. A fire would light in his eyes and it seemed like the world around him ceased to exist.

You only realised you were staring at Spencer when the last bits of his question registered in your mind. "...you going to?"

Blinking your eyes, you snapped to attention. Derek seemed to notice, because you felt his signature smirk return to his face.

"Which store are you going to?" Spencer repeated the question. Anybody else might be annoyed, but he only seemed mildly restless. A rare look for the unathletic genius.

"I'm going to the one three blocks down from here," you replied.

"So am I!" Spencer sat upright in his chair, beaming. You think that this is the most excitement he's expressed to you since you joined the BAU.

Then his confidence seemed to waver. He began tugging at the edge of his sleeve, eyes glancing to the side at nothing in particular when he asked, "W-would you like t-to go together?"

A smile spreads across your face before you can stop it. "Sure! Sounds like fun."

Spencer grinned back, and there was a moment of silence before Derek interrupted the conversation that he began. "Well, I'll leave you and lover boy to plan your date. I'm going to spend my Friday night at the bar."

Your heart thumped involuntarily at the word "date", while Derek turned to Emily. "Hey Prentiss, you want to grab a few drinks and dinner? I'm sure I can get the others to leave work for one night."

"Anything's better than this," Emily shrugged, lifting her mug of already-cold coffee.

Standing up to retrieve her bag, she smirked at you and Spencer, having heard more of the conversation than she let on. "Have a great weekend, you lovebirds. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

She and Derek shared a laugh as they moved towards the Batcave to retrieve Garcia next.

As you watched them go, you feel Spencer's eyes on you and a flush warming your cheeks. You knew they were just teasing you with the word "date", but the truth is you've liked the genius almost as soon as you met him.

You may not have an eidetic memory, but you could still remember the flutter of butterflies that exploded in your chest when you first laid eyes on Dr. Spencer Reid.

He had waved from a comfortable distance, the other hand tucked in the pocket of his dark slacks. He towered over you easily with curly locks that barely touched his sweater vest, and you swore you've never seen anybody more attractive in your life. His intelligence only added to your attraction. 

"Shall I pick you up at 7am tomorrow?"

You turned back to Spencer, who seemed even more nervous now that everybody in the bullpen had left. Yet what he was proposing was rather bold compared to his usual behaviour.

“Pick me up?” You repeated.

“It’ll be easier to find a parking spot that way, and the weather report predicts that tomorrow will be a sunny day, so I know you’d rather not walk three blocks to the store.” He rambled nervously.

“You know me well, Spencer.” A cheeky smile snuck onto your face, and in a moment of false bravado, you said what was on your mind. “7am. It’s a date, then.”

Spencer’s face turned beet red.

You didn’t wait to dwell on his reaction, dumping the last of your paperwork into a pile and picking up your bag. But as you walked to the elevator, you couldn’t help yourself from grinning ear to ear. It was a date. Kind of.

-------------- 

You couldn’t sleep. You had gotten home earlier than usual, but the extra time to plan for your “date” tomorrow proved to be a bad idea.

What would you wear? What would you talk about? Should you extend it to a meal, or dessert, or maybe coffee?

Although you were confident in the moment, you were beginning to regret teasing Spencer before you left. You’d known him long enough to know how he reacted to embarrassment, and there’s a good chance he might back away because of your forwardness. 

You groaned, trying to get these thoughts out of your head. The reality of the "date" was sinking in now. This would be the first time that you and Spencer would be alone in a non-work setting. To say that you were nervous was a gross understatement. 

But there was something worse than showing up nervous, which was showing up nervous and sleep-deprived, so you turned off your bedside lamp and tried to will yourself to sleep. That's when your phone began to buzz.

You were so on edge that the sound almost made you fall off your bed. Turning over your phone, your heart leapt to your throat.

Spencer, 2:03am: Sorry to disturb you when it's so late, but I realised I don’t have your address. Could you send it to me when you're awake?

You gulped. Just relax, just relax, you repeated in your head.

Me, 2:05am: It’s alright, you didn’t wake me up. I’ll attach my address below.

Spencer, 2:06am: Thanks. Having trouble sleeping?

Me, 2:07am: A little

Spencer, 2:08am: Me too.

What was I supposed to reply to that? You silently screamed. But it turned out you didn't have to figure it out.

Spencer, 2:11am: To be honest, I'm a little nervous about tomorrow.

Me, 2:13am: Why?

Spencer, 2:15am: I suppose it’s because we've never spent any time alone before.

Hearing the genius act so shy made you feel a little more brave.

Me, 2:16am: Well, I'm looking forward to the chance

Spencer, 2:17am: I am too.

Despite your nerves, you smiled at his small confession.

Spencer, 2:19am: We should get some sleep.

Me, 2:19am: I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Spence

Spencer, 2:20am: Sweet dreams.

Your anxieties were washed away and replaced with the biggest smile on your face. Without knowing it, Spencer’s words rippled a sense of calm over you, and you fell asleep shortly after. 

The next morning, you woke up with a newfound clarity. You knew what you were going to wear. 

-------------- 

Spencer couldn't stop tapping the edge of his steering wheel. He knew he was nervous, and admitting it to you last night didn't do much to stop that fact from eating away at him.

He texted you 3 minutes ago that he was waiting outside your apartment, but you hadn't replied. Although he knew that there were plenty of logical reasons why you might have missed his text, his hands didn't stop itching to call you and see if you were alright.

Then out of the corner of his eye, you emerged from the corridor and he felt his heart speed up.

You were wearing a blue flannel that he'd never seen you in before with a pair of dark jeans. Your hair, which you usually kept in a up-do at work, was let down in waves, touching your shoulders. And then there was the pièce de résistance, you were wearing a Doctor Who t-shirt with the TARDIS on it.

Hook, line, and sinker.

He didn't break his gaze on you the entire time you got into his car. Even when you beamed at him and wished him a good morning, a small yawn escaping your perfect lips, he was completely tongue-tied.

"Earth to Spencer," you called out, looking up at him curiously. "You there?"

Spencer shook his head suddenly, cursing himself internally for being such a doofus. "Sorry, uh, I was distracted. Good morning." He smiled sheepishly, tucking a stray hair strand behind his ear.

"Anyway," he cleared his throat. "I was thinking we could grab some coffee before we headed to the store? We can make it quick. I know there'll be some people already lining up."

He peeked at you rubbing your eyes and thought it was the cutest thing he's ever seen. “Looks like you might need it," he said without realising he'd just flirted with you.

You giggled, lowering your hands from your face. "Sounds great." 

-------------- 

Spencer wasn't lying when he said it'd be quick, although in truth you could have taken all the time in the world and you would still be happy. The initial awkwardness between you washed away almost immediately as you fell into a quiet conversation about your favourite Doctor Who episodes. 

You wanted to commit the sight of him driving in the morning to memory. The sun had just rose, lighting a gentle halo around Spencer’s messy hair and sculptured face. He was wearing a bigger sweater than usual, the sleeves hanging around his wrists loosely. While his eyes were focused on the road, his lips parted slightly as he softly bantered with you about David Tennant. 

You felt an overwhelming urge to reach out and kiss him despite the driving hazard. And despite the fact that you’ve never kissed him, of course. But you could hope. And hope you did. 

Your hope had grown when he parked in front of the coffee house you’d once mentioned was your favourite. Spencer made your coffee order perfectly and you had found yourself hoping that it was because he’d paid extra attention to you, and not because of his brilliant memory. 

And when you reached the video game store and he opened the door for you, you hoped it was because he wanted to make a good impression, not only because he was a gentleman. 

And when he stood between you and a video game rack in line, you hoped that he was trying to shield you from the other people in the store, and you hoped that he was thinking of pressing you against the rack and kissing the daylights out of you. 

You needed to get a hold of yourself. 

The conversation had swapped to the reason why you two were here in the first place, and you found yourself talking to Spencer about Breath of the Wild, a game that brought you back to fond memories of your childhood. 

“The Legend of Zelda was the first video game I ever played, on the first console I ever owned.” You shared, smiling fondly. “It was the video game that my brother and I bonded over, and we bought every game together since.”

Spencer nodded in rapt. You felt him leaning closer to you, although it may have been your imagination. 

“This is actually the first time I haven’t been with him for a new game,” you realised. “Due to our jobs, we haven’t seen each other in awhile, but we still text each other!” You tried to end on a lighter note, not wanting to bring the mood down on this “date”.

Spencer looked at you as if he wanted to say something, but he kept his lips shut. 

“What about you? What was your first video game?” You threw the question to him, trying to divert attention away from your sad-enough story. 

He blushed in response to your question and looked down at his black converse. You noticed he began touching his sleeve in a familiar motion and you looked at him suspiciously. “Spencer?”

“W-well, the t-truth is, I didn’t actually c-come here to buy a Switch, and I don’t play video games at all.“ The last part of his sentence came out rapidly. You might have missed it, if you weren’t already used to the tongue twisters he spit out on a daily basis.

“What?” You exclaimed a little too loudly, causing the other shoppers in line to glance at you weirdly. “Then... Then what are you doing here?” You said quieter this time. Your eyebrows furrowed as your mind scanned the possibilities. 

“W-well, I, uh, wanted to spend time with you,” he blurted out. He raised his eyes to meet yours, his face completely red.

It was your turn to be flustered now. Your voice was quiet and you could feel your hands shaking. “Is this a date, Spencer?” 

“Only if you want it to be, I mean, I want it to be but your opinion matters to me, and I wouldn’t want to bring you on a date if you didn’t want to. We can just hang out like friends if that’s more comfortable--” 

You grabbed his free hand, gently lowering it from where it was moving as he rambled, until your fingers were intertwined. 

“I would like it to be,” a large smile took over your face. You were a little teary despite how weird it was to confess your feelings for him in a video game store of all places. 

Spencer was quiet for a moment, squeezing your hand in return. “Would you like to go for lunch after this? As a date,” he clarified this time. 

"I would love that,” you beamed at him, “as a date.” 

-------------- 

Spencer had always imagined the kind of girl he would fall in love with. Caring, intelligent, had an appreciation for classic literature, maybe. But when he saw you for the first time, every expectation he held flew out of the window.  

You were beautiful. Wavy dark hair tied into a high ponytail, wearing a navy shirt, and funnily enough, a beige cardigan and black converse. Morgan joked that it was like meeting Spencer 2.0, but he disagreed: the two of you were worlds apart. 

You were incredibly tech savvy, although not as much as Garcia, but certainly more than the rest. You loved the smell and taste of coffee without sugar. You were happy to hug everybody you met, from colleagues to victims. You didn’t like paperback so you read everything on a Kindle. 

But the biggest difference between the two of you, was that you were emotionally intelligent. 

All of your brilliance, combined with your PhD in psychology - having worked as a psychiatrist affiliated with Sex Crimes before joining the BAU - you were able to pick out the team’s moods from a single glance. It’s what endeared everyone to you immediately, and what made you such a great profiler.   

But the way you treated him was different. You just, listened to him. While everyone else had gotten into the habit of cutting him off or simply ignoring him when he opened his mouth, your eyes would light up instead. 

He could always tell you were listening because you would look into his eyes when he spoke, and you would ask him questions after he was done. 

It made him feel like the world around him ceased to exist, except for you. 

So he started studying your interests to grab your attention, trying to throw in a few jokes hoping to see you smile. It only took one month for him to seize his chance. Still, never in his calculations did he think you would say yes. 

He smiled at the thought, stroking your hair gently as you cuddled on the couch together, watching you play Breath of the Wild. 

After a more than successful first date, you had asked him to come over the next day to spend more time together. A month ago, he would have politely declined with an excuse like needing to read a new academic journal, but when he arrived at your doorstep he allowed himself to be drawn into your arms, relishing the giggle he earned as a reward for being hugged. 

“Damn it,” you grumbled quietly as you ran out of stamina scaling a cliffside for the fifth time.

Spencer laughed. Without a second thought, he pulled you closer and kissed the top of your head. 

In the background Link fell off the cliff once again, the game playing a sound that he came to recognise as Link dying. But there were no curses this time, as you had turned to look at Spencer, nothing but adoration in your eyes. 

“That was our first kiss,” you said so quietly and sweetly that Spencer’s heart melted at the sound of it. 

“First?” He took his chance, leaning closer. “You know, the usage of the word ‘first’ almost always implies that there will be a ‘second’ and a ‘third’ and a...” 

His voice trailed off as your fingers left the controller to touch his lips. Your touch was intoxicating and he wanted more. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Spence,” you started, lifting your finger from his lips. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you-” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he managed to get out in a hurry before capturing your lips in his. He felt your astonishment at first, but you quickly lost yourself in the kiss as he brought his hands up to cup the sides of your face, deepening the kiss further. 

You finally broke apart after awhile, both panting for air and smiling widely. Spencer never thought he could be so lucky. “That’s the second one,” he said quietly, bringing up two fingers to indicate the number. 

You looked at him with love in your eyes and abandoned your controller on the table before throwing yourself at him, flattening the two of you against your couch. 

“Ready for the third?”

-------------- 

Derek Morgan wasn’t an idiot. That’s why he could tell that something had changed over the weekend between his desk mate and boy genius. 

The two came into work together on Monday morning, which was weird in itself, but they also took every opportunity to stick to each other, from coffee breaks to disappearing for lunch and “asking” about paperwork. 

When they vanished for the umpteenth time that day for coffee, Derek leaned over Emily’s desk to confirm his theory. 

“It’s not just me. Pretty boy finally made a move, didn’t he?” He cocked an eyebrow. 

“Definitely. Those two are so obvious that even Hotch has picked up on it. From his office.” She quipped, grinning as her eyes moved to the scene behind Derek. “Speak of the devil.” 

Entering the conversation, Spencer did what he did best. “Did you know that ‘speak of the devil’ is the short form of the idiom ‘speak of the devil and he doth appear’? The phrase can be traced back to the 16th century when mentioning the devil was considered prohibited. In fact, when people were caught saying the phrase--” 

Derek caught your eyes drifting to look adoringly at Spencer. He couldn’t take this anymore. “So what happened between you two last weekend, huh?” he interrupted, smirking. 

Your reaction was better than he gambled. You turned a bright red and your eyes darted between Spencer and Derek in panic, truly flustered for the first time since he’s met you. But Spencer was strangely calm, his eyes travelling from his best friend to Emily in the background trying to stifle her laughter, while a small smile tugged at his lips. 

“We’re dating now,” he announced to the two a little triumphantly, while rubbing your shoulder as a peaceful gesture. 

Derek and Emily were stunned by their friend’s directness, only to be shocked out of it as Hotch walked by. “Finally,” he muttered, loud enough for them all to hear. 

You were the first to crack a smile, then the rest followed suit with laughs and congratulations. Hearing the uproar, Garcia and JJ peeked out of their rooms, joining in and demanding more details about this new but not entirely unexpected development. 

Amidst the chaos, Spencer laces his hands in yours and gives it a squeeze. For the first time in a long time, you feel unequivocally, unmistakably happy. 

#mads fics #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #cm fic #cm fanfic #criminal minds fandom

[warmau]

☆ [nostalgic] summer romance!au chenle happy (once again late) birthday lele ! ~ find others here: johnny | haechan | taeil | taeyong | mark | jaemin | yangyang | yuta | sicheng

maybe the heat has gotten to chenle 

when he sits down on the last step of the long staircase nestled between your building and the twenty four hour grocery store

the stairs lead up to the next block, where you can hear the vague sounds of kids playing on the street. one of the voices might be haechan, he’s shouting for someone to come back

but you look at chenle and he’s looking at his knees

freshly bruised from where he and jisung both fell off their bikes a couple days ago, it’s starting to scab and he looks like he’s trying not to pick at it

“sorry, you want me to do what?”

“don’t make me say it again.”

he mutters and he won’t look at you

you know even if you ask him too - he’s probably the most stubborn person you’ve ever met -  he won’t

“no, i didn’t hear - well i did, but i mean - you’re crazy.”

“you can just say no.”

he shifts his gaze from his knees up to the sky and then after you wait patiently for another minute he finally does look at you

“do you really hate the idea of it?”

“it’s not that. it’s just.......if you really like this person, you should just fall into it naturally with them. you shouldn’t have to practice - you should just do it when it feels right.”

his mouth twitches like he’s about to scowl and roll his eyes and stomp away

because that’s what he does when things don’t go his way but instead he just stares at you and says;

“i won’t know what feels right until ive at least tried it.”

you should argue back, you and chenle are notorious for always bantering and quarrelling and leaving all of your friends either annoyed or doubling over with laughter

but you can’t think of something witty to say. something at least convincing because he makes a point

but also

how is he not embarrassed to ask me of all people that?

sighing, you’re the one who looks away and over your shoulder up the stairs

no one is around - their voices are - but they’re distant and chenle is close

so close that bruised knee of his could brush yours if he just inched a little to his left

“fine.”

you give in and turn your shoulders back toward him

“you might as well practice with me, anyone else and you might actually catch another crush on top of the one you have now.”

chenle half smirks and you don’t register the emotional shift in the light brown of his eyes

you just think he’s going along with your joke - well not really a joke, more like a statement

and that’s how you end up leaning in, one hand on the stairs as if to keep your balance even while sitting down

and the other on the side of chenle’s cheek

you hover just a moment before you kiss him - a split, wordless millisecond of hesitation - and then you let your lips gently press to his

it isn’t even a real kiss but it is the first moment of the rest of a summer you never expected

of course, you and chenle tell no one about this weird, awkward, beyond the boundaries of friendship thing you are doing

mostly because if you did haechan and jaemin would not let it go, not until you were all rolling in your graves and jisung would probably be scarred with crippling doubt of where every friendship of his stood

so you only naturally have to sneak around

chenle is a good liar though, well better than you who has trouble even looking renjun in the eyes when chenle says you and him have to leave a little earlier from the backyard barbeque someones throwing because oh right, you forgot your allergy medicine at home and chenle promised some old lady across the street he’d feed her cat while she was on holiday

they’re half-assed, badly timed lies but it is summer

and if you and chenle don’t want to have fun with the rest of the group then so be it

you guys just get teased and called debbie-downers and then you’re home free

well home free in a sense that you know have some time to sit on the rug of your bedroom and kiss

for the sake of learning

“where do i put my hands?”

chenle asks one time and you move instinctively to put one of his palms on the side of your waist. 

that’s where i like to be held-

you drop his hand as soon as the thought crosses your mind and stutter out

“well, that’s more a question for your crush. different people like it in different places.”

he nods and thinks for a second

“we’ve only kissed a couple of times but i think i like putting my hand on your waist.”

his palm ends up just where you had wanted to lead it and when a little swell of butterflies flutters in your stomach at the fact, you quell the feeling and shove it deep deep deep down 

this persists throughout the weeks, and each time you try and introduce chenle to a tier higher of kissing, if that makes sense

you’ve got down the leaning in, the hand position, the tilting your head, the emergency breath mints, the lead up or lead out, the avoid nose smashing or teeth clanking and then there’s only really one last thing you can graduate too and it’s 

“tongue?”

you almost hark on the ice-cream sandwich you’re eating when jaemin says the word

“yeah, he got his tongue pierced. are you ok?”

renjun turns his long gaze to you, the poor ice-cream melting all over the wrapper and on your fingers

“fine, yeah, it’s just - super hot. i think im gonna go home and lay under the ac.”

your eyes go from renjun to jaemin to chenle who gives a little nod and stands up from his side of the table with a groan

“sorry guys, i got a text from my mom. i gotta go now too.”

no one says anything. renjun taps his fingers and doesn’t look away from you as jaemin tries desperately to convince you both to stay and when you both say no he sticks his tongue out and asks you a question that you thought would sooner come out of anyone elses mouth

“are you two like hooking up behind our backs or something, you’re always gone when we’re having the most fun!”

you think you might really fall over - renjun, sure you could have seen him figuring it out. haechan - definitely. even jeno......but 

jaemin?

“what? like i’d ever hook up with them.”

chenle’s voice comes out, high and mocking 

it’s pretty good and you almost believe it for a second - turn around and tell him hey, you’ve been making out with me this whole entire month so if you want to end up practicing on a stuffed animal back home you better take that back!

when you realize - right, he’s covering up

you scrunch up your nose and chuck the icecream into the trash

“right, like id ever let him touch me.”

jaemin is convinced, he goes back to laughter and obliviousness, but renjun chuckles when you pass by and the undertone of it makes you shake even in the heat

“renjun knows.”

you and chenle are not in your room for once, you’re outside in a small park that’s been abandoned as the summer moon switches places with the summer sun

chenle is swinging back and forth and you’re leaning against the side of the swing set nervously biting your lip

“he gave me a look when we left.”

“are you going to teach me it by the way?”

“teach you what?”

you hear the swing come to a stop and he stands up, you don’t know if now the summer heat is getting to you

because when you look at him he looks different

he looks handsome, not just cute and sweet like you’re used to seeing him - all round faced and smiley - he’s gotten taller and is still so naturally thin it brings out the defining cuts of the sharper parts of his face

you look away immediately when you start cataloging all of this in your brain

people only do that with people they like, you don’t look at your friends and start painting their best features in your head like a psycho ........ ok not a psycho but someone that’s.....that’s in ......

“you know, how to actually kiss. not little pecks or whatever, like actual deeper kissing.”

it is obvious what he’s asking and you are pretty sure it’s just his drive to be better at all this for that person he likes 

but you feel shy about it, even a little uncomfortable with the idea of being slightly closer to someone who is using you as what could be compared with a scientific mannequin 

a how-to user guide, a one time trial period

you feel light headed and when chenle comes into your personal space and reaches out to hold you, you jerk back

“stop - wait.”

he listens 

“w-who do you even like, you never told me.”

“why’s that important?” 

his eyes widen a little and you are racing through a hundred different excuses and reasons to prolong this conversation

“well i want to know. i mean, i mean everything we practiced you’re going to use with them so i just i guess i feel like im at least entitled to know that.”

“it’s a secret, it doens’t matter either way.”

“do i know them?”

chenle frowns, “no. they don’t live near here. anyway are you ok why-”

you walk backwards, up until your back hits the fence that runs around the little park

chenle’s ticked off look turns into genuine concern and he stops a couple of feet from you and asks this time if you’re really ok, if you don’t want to do this anymore than that’s all you have to say-

he’s speaking, in almost something akin to a whisper, and the sound along with the dawning of the evening makes you remember that first kiss you gave him on the stairs

his bruised knee, haechan’s voice in the distance, the long steps leading up to the entire world and away from chenle

if you really had felt nothing for him but friendship, you would have gotten up and told him to stop playing around

you would have trotted up those steps and joined everyone else

you would have never leaned in and kissed him first

but you had and the secret that you’d stowed as far back in your heart as possible had slowly, with each day of this summer, been pulled out and out and out

and now it was big and shining and the only thing you could think about anymore

i like chenle

and everytime he kisses me

he’s thinking of someone else

“i can’t, i can’t do that with you.”

you finally find the words and then clutch your fingers into fists at your side when chenle gives you a sad look you almost never see him wear

“it’s not that i don’t want to, i do. i want to. and not to help you learn or whatever but because i really just........want to.”

that sad look is turning into something you’re too scared to look at - but you know he’s following your train of thought now

“and you should want to do that with the person you like, not a replace-”

“it’s you.”

he cuts in before you finish your sentence and like a train going at full speed you brake and everything crashes in at once

“-ment......sorry, what?”

“it’s you. you’re the person i like.”

“but- you - practice- you - what?”

the starstruck look on your face makes chenle laugh and you can’t believe the audacity, buy you also want an answer so when he wipes away his chuckling he nods

“it was you all along. do you think i’d ever want to spend days making out with someone i didn’t like?”

when you had thought something had been wrong with him on the day he’d asked you to do this the first time, you really had thought either he’d gotten heatstroke or been brainwashed

it was so unlike chenle to 1) admit he needed to practice something and 2) want to practice it with someone he wasn’t at least fond of

so really, maybe something had been wrong with you, when you had failed to see that his whole plan this time was

“you just wanted an excuse to kiss me all summer?”

he shrugs and grins, “it was nice right?”

you can’t argue or lie or disagree - it was nice - and now you’re standing here in this park with no one around and you think maybe you shuold teach chenle the last and final thing about kissing

so you finally let him come closer and with his hand on your waist, just where you like it, he leans in again

but just before you do anything else you pull back and mumble

“jaemin is going to freak out when we tell him he was right, we have been sneaking out around behind everyones back to make out.”

“yeah but renjun definitely knows right?”

you nod, right, maybe that’ll soften the shock for everyone

(it doesn’t)

and sometimes you also get another wave of shock, even after dating chenle for so long 

not much has changed - you still like to push each other and tease and pretend like you aren’t head over heels in love with each other 

if only because that’s one way to show that you are, in fact, very much attached 

and because even when you kiss in front of the group - jaemin still says it blows his mind

the only person who keeps reminding everyone that he saw this coming, even before you and chenle spent that summer locking lips 

is renjun who looks at you and chenle and is like, “one day ill probably be helping plan their wedding.”

you and chenle look at each other and pretend to gag, wedding? no way? to each other? you’d both rather die!

and then you grin and kiss and tickle noses and disappear into a bubble of your own

every time you get to be alone though you whisper against his cheek that you love him, he knows exactly how to make you happy

and he reminds you hey - you taught me everything i know, that one summer all that time ago.

#we love this trope at least i do #nct scenarios #nct au #chenle scenarios #chenle au #nct dream scenarios #nct dream au #nct #chenle #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #chenle imagines #happy birthday kiddo!!!!!!!! #zhong chenle au #nostalgic!au

[lifeofanerdygirl]

Kara realizes just how much she loves Lena with the unexpected help from Mon-El.

Inspired from the series finale BTS photos and this quote: “Don’t you get it? I can say goodbye to everyone else, but not you. Not you.”  - @silvermoonwritings

-

“Kara, you were amazing back there,” Mon-El says grinning over at Kara as he leans over and rests his arms on the balcony railing of The Tower.

“Thanks, but I can’t take all of the credit. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I hadn’t had the help of everyone. It was truly a team effort.”

Only a few hours ago, National City was filled with the sounds of terrified screams, warnings and commands shouted at one another and superhero and alien rivals crashing into buildings and pavement after being flung into the air.

Now, the city had gone back to its usual hum of nightly traffic and the evening life of its citizens. A calm resembling the feeling of a hot bath at the end of a stressful day.

Mon-El grins, eyes locked on Kara’s. “Stronger together.”

"Stronger together,” she repeats, yet it doesn’t quite have the same effect for some reason.

They let the hum of the city wash over them, enjoying each other’s presence in a comfortable silence.

After a couple of minutes, Mon-El speaks up. “Kara, there is something I wanted to ask you.”

“What is it?” Kara questions, turning her gaze towards him and away from a young raven-haired woman walking her Golden Retriever.

“You know Winn and I are leaving tomorrow and well, we were talking and wondering if you wanted to come to the future with us? Well, I was mostly convincing Winn of the idea...”

“Really?”

“Yeah, we could do great work together. Plus, it’d be nice to spend time with you again,” he explains, scooting closer to Kara and placing his hand over hers.

“Mon-El, that is really sweet of you to offer, but I can’t. I’m sorry...” Kara apologizes, shifting her hand out from under his and increasing the distance between them.

He crosses his arms, face falling in disappointment. “Why not?”

“National City in this time period is my home. These people living here with me are my home. I can’t say goodbye to...them.”

Mon-El fully turns his body towards her, resting one hand on the railing. “Kara, don’t you think this is our second chance together? I’ve grown. I’ve learned. I’m a better person.”

Kara mirrors his position, but places one hand on his shoulder. “Mon-El, I’m happy that you have evolved, but that is what you want, not what I want.”

“Well, what do you want then?”

Kara signs, turning away from him and looking out at the city.

“Is there someone else that I don’t know about?”

“Um...” Kara stammers, trying to wrack her brain for a response, but comes up empty handed.

Mon-El sighs. “It’s Lena, isn’t it?”

Kara doesn’t respond, but turns her head back in his direction. It’s as if the answer is written on her face with a bold marker.

“I wasn’t one hundred percent sure what was going on between you two, but after seeing you guys together these past few days and talking with you now, it all makes sense. It’s been hard on me and I’ve had to face the facts; what you two have, it doesn’t compare to what we had or what we’ll ever have.”

Finally, after a couple minutes of silence, Kara speaks up.

“Saying goodbye to you a few years ago was hard on me. Yet, I was eventually able to move on and Lena helped me through that. She and I have been through a lot together, both good and bad. Recently, we had a bad falling out due to her discovering my secret via Lex. It left me absolutely heartbroken. I tried to win her back several times, but too much damage had already been done. I had to give her time. Yes, we weren’t together for a while, but I never said a final goodbye. I couldn’t let her go. Eventually, she came back after realizing what Lex’s true plan was and how she was just a pawn in his game. Ever since, we’ve been working on rebuilding our relationship and honestly, things are better than ever. Now, I can’t ever imagine saying goodbye to her. There’s just so much...”

“That you love about her?”

Kara’s voice is a whispered confession in the night. “Yes.”

“Well, Kara Zor-El, Lena Luthor is the luckiest woman in the world.” The statement is not overly convincing, but it’s the best he can do.

Kara’s face immediately goes from its usual sun kissed tone to a light shade of pink and she looks down towards her red boots.

“I should go. It sounds like you need to pay Lena a visit and let her know your feelings.”

Kara looks back up at him, the pink receding from her cheeks. “Save travels,” she says, giving him a quick hug.

Mon-El strolls across the main floor of The Tower to the elevator on the other side. Goodnight Mrs. Zor-El-Luthor, he whispers as the elevator doors close in front of him, I had a feeling I couldn’t change your future, but I had to give it one last shot.

However, Kara doesn’t hear his words. As soon as he makes his way to the other side of The Tower, she shoots up into the air like a bullet out of a gun, closing her eyes and listening for her favorite sound, Lena’s heartbeat. After a few seconds of concentrating on the steady rhythm, she locates Lena in her apartment and zooms off in that direction.

She cautiously approaches, red boots landing quietly on concrete. It is late after all and the last thing she wants to do is scare Lena by slamming onto her balcony and bursting inside unannounced.

As Kara approaches closer, she notices Lena sitting on her couch, a blanket draped over her, glasses perched on her nose and is reading a book. Beautiful, is all Kara can think as she taps lightly on the glass window to announce her presence. Lena glances up, her face wide eyed and panicked at first, but it only takes a second before her lips curl into a smile and her eyes light up like a Christmas Tree.

Kara enters, obviously given the Lena Luthor sign of approval, switches from her supersuit into a pair of jeans and a blue v-neck and plops down on the couch next to Lena.

“So what brings you to my apartment at 11pm? I assume it couldn’t wait until morning?”

“I love you Lena Luthor,” Kara blurts out before she has the chance to register what Lena just asked her.

Lena can’t help the curl of her lips and the way her eyes start to fill with tears of happiness. She places her book down on the wooden side table behind her and slides closer to Kara. She grabs her hands, squeezing them tight and looks into the depths of Kara’s blue eyes that are currently glistening with love.

“And I love you Kara Zor-El,” Lena responds, leaning in and capturing Kara’s lips in a passionate kiss.

#supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supergirl #supergirl season 6 #series finale #my writing #one shot #mon-el can't compare to lena

[pilothusband]

A lit torch to the woodpile high (part 2)

A Paz VIzsla Bartender!AU

Rating: T (for now)

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x F!Reader

Warnings: Alcohol, pining, some vague descriptions of wanting to be plowed, vague threats of violence

Word count: 2.7k

Description: More pining ensues, we see a lil skin (@softdin​ 👀), something eerie happens, two idiots who don’t know how the other feels. 

Author’s note: Let me know what you think!! Please go here to be added to the taglist!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

The next few weeks passed by without incident. You still hadn’t seen Orso since he initially hired you on, which was kind of strange, but you figured it was because he was busy and had other ventures he had to keep an eye on.

So far your favorite part of working at Bear’s Den was working with Harlow. When it was slow you would pass the time chatting and getting to know each other better. You found out that Harlow was in the middle of getting her Master’s in Business Administration at the local school. She wanted to open her own bakery someday and worked at the pub to help pay for her degree.

Dillon was a little more frustrating to work with. In other words, he was lazy and he tried flirting with you (and every other woman around his age) every chance he got. It was harmless, but after a while you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him. 

Paz was almost always at the bar, but it seemed like he was busy most of the time. In fact, he had barely said a word to anyone all day, other than grunting a short “hello” as he stormed in.

“What crawled up his butt?” Dillon asked after he had slammed the office door. You and Harlow looked at him and shrugged. He seemed pretty surly in general, from what you could tell, but this was a whole new level, even for him.

A little while later, some customers had trickled in and there was a low hum of conversation around the bar. You were wiping down some glasses that had come out of the dishwasher. The damn  thing never dried the glasses completely, and Donny never dried them himself before carting them out to you.

Harlow came out from the back, coat and purse in hand. You instantly deflated, realizing she was heading home for the day.

“I thought you were closing up with me tonight?”

“I was going to, but Paz switched with me. Said something about a meeting he had later on anyways,” she said, applying chapstick.

Oh, just great.

“Don’t worry,” she said, almost like she could read your mind. “I’m sure he’ll be less grumpy once Madge brings him some food from the kitchen later,” she laughed.

“Yeah, he could use a Snickers or two.” You both dissolved into giggles.

It was as if Paz’s ears were ringing. As soon as you had made the comment, he stepped out of the office. He still looked pretty angry, so you figured whatever was bothering him hadn’t gotten any better. Harlow could sense his mood and all but ran out the door, throwing a quick goodbye behind her shoulder.

You waved after her, distracted for a moment. That’s when you heard your name being called, rather impatiently. You whipped back around and walked over, not wanting to sour his mood any further.

“Sorry about that, what’s up?” You asked, looking up to make eye contact.

Big mistake. You could feel your stomach clench up with desire as soon as his eyes met yours. You could have sworn you saw his expression change momentarily, but as quickly as it appeared, he blinked and it was gone.

“I have a meeting later today. If you see a couple guys wearing matching white coats walk in and I’m not out front with you, come out back and get me. Don’t talk to them.”

You bit your lip and nodded. Paz’s gaze followed the movement and he swallowed heavily. You didn’t catch yourself watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down until he cleared his throat.

“Remember. Don’t talk to them.”

“Roger,” you said, turning on your heel to get back to the bar.

You had no idea how to feel about that interaction. He either didn’t trust you enough to talk to some important business associates, or something else was going on. You felt a little uneasy, but chalked it up to Paz’s fowl mood.

Was Paz involved with some bad people? Did this have anything to do with Orso not showing up to the bar for weeks? More customers were trickling in, distracting you from all the wild conspiracies your brain was coming up with. 

Orso and Paz were in a secret society and were plotting to steal an important government document. Orso and Paz secretly swapped faces and were living each other’s lives.

You really needed to stop watching Nicolas Cage films before bed every night.

After a while, Paz came out of the office to tend the bar with you. He wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but it was almost hypnotizing to watch him pour drinks. He knew the layout of the bar like it was the back of his hand. There was no hesitation to look for the correct liquor types when a customer ordered a cocktail that required a vintage bourbon. He didn’t struggle to remember which spout to use for cranberry juice vs. orange juice (like you did).

There was a point in the night where he was serving 5 customers at the same time, when you struggled to juggle just two of them. It was almost embarrassing, to be honest.

You heard a woman’s voice in your peripheral, snapping you out of a detailed and vivid daydream where Paz bent you over the bar to have his way with you.

“Excuse me, can I get a glass of Merlot?” She was probably in her mid-50s, wearing a slinky black dress that looked stellar on her, with leopard print heels. Basically, you wanted to be this woman when you got older.

“Of course,” you said, turning to the shelf.

Before you could even ask for Paz’s help, you heard him in your ear.

“Red wine?” 

You had to suppress a pleasant shiver. 

“Yes, please. The Merlot,” you looked over, giving him a sheepish grin. His face was still close to yours, you could see the flecks of amber in his deep brown eyes.

You stepped back, allowing him room to get to the shelf, and tried not to drool as he reached up towards the shelf, his shirt riding up his back with the movement. Time seemed to stop as you caught a flash of skin, toned and smooth. 

“Here you go,” he said, handing the bottle over to you. “We’ll keep it over by the register in case she wants another glass.”

You nodded, your mouth too dry to come up with words. Once the bottle was opened and the glass filled up, you handed it to the woman as she handed you her credit card.

She gave you a wide-eyed look as you accepted her card.

“That man is an occupational hazard,” she said, taking a big gulp from her glass.

You laughed, but didn’t say anything in response.

“Do you want me to open a tab for you?”

“Yes, I think I’ll stick around for a while,” she said wiggling her eyebrows.

Later on that night, it was about 15 minutes past closing time and all of the customers, as well as your bouncer Rick, had long left for the night. 

Paz had gone out back to count the till and you were organizing the liquor bottles when two men entered through the front door, which was strange because you could have sworn you had locked it.

They were wearing long, cream colored trench coats with some sort of emblem on the front pocket. It looked like a cog with six spokes. Something about it made your blood run cold. You had every intention of running out back to tell Paz they were here, but something about these men had you frozen in fear.

They weren’t like any men you had seen before, with short, cropped hair that was slicked back and eyes as gaunt as their thin faces.

Good evening,” the taller man said as he reached the bar. He gave you a smile, trying to appear amiable.

“Um, hi. Paz is out back, I can go get him for you,” Paz was going to lose his shit when he found out you talked to them.

“We’re looking for Orso Van, actually. Do you know where he is?” 

“I haven’t seen him for weeks. I can go get Pa–”

“I don’t want to speak with his whipping boy,” he interrupted, his tone growing cold. “I want to speak to Orso. Now.”

You were grateful at Paz’s immaculate timing as the back door swung open.

Paz looked more formidable than ever. He seemed to grow even taller, if that was even possible.

“As I told you last week, Dax, no one’s seen him in weeks.”

The silent man who was not Dax scoffed.

Paz continued, “and I thought I told you never to speak to my staff.”

Dax gave Paz a sickly, unnatural smile. It didn’t look like it belonged on his face. “I figured she might know something, seeing as she showed up right as Orso disappeared.”

You felt as if your entire body had been plunged into ice cold water. A deep, dreadful feeling took over the pit of your stomach.

These men have been watching us.

“Leave her out of this, she has nothing to do with any of it.”

He stalked towards the men threateningly.

“Now, if you want to talk to me, we can go ahead and talk in the office. Otherwise, get the fuck out of my bar.”

The other man scoffed again and nodded towards Dax.

“Come on, let’s go. We’ll be back next week to check on Orso’s whereabouts. If he doesn’t show his face soon, you know what will happen.”

They turned, their pristine white coats whipping behind them. The door swung shut with a bang.

You could only gape after them, so many questions spinning through your head. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answers to any of them.

“I’m going to drive you home tonight,” his tone left no room for argument. You weren’t about to object anyways. Even if you had to endure a tense car ride, you were a hell of a lot safer with him than by yourself.

You both locked up as quickly as possible and made your way to his truck, slamming the doors shut harder than necessary.

The air was thick as a blanket, filled with so many unanswered questions. If you weren’t so rattled from earlier, you would have realized this was the closest you had ever been to Paz.

“Are you going to tell me what that was about back there?” You asked, already knowing his answer.

“No.”

“If I’m in danger, I want to know why,” you told him, voice trembling. Your pulse was going a mile a minute.

“The less you know, the safer you are,” he said. His tone was still final, but not nearly as hard as you were expecting. 

He looked over at you. All you could do was stare back at him, mouth agape. His face was half bathed in the moonlight, painting his face in a pale blue light that contrasted with the dark that surrounded you.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” He said quietly.

You felt like your lungs couldn’t get enough air, as if the wind had been knocked out of you.

“Okay,” was all you said back. You weren’t sure if Paz even wanted to be here with you right now, but you trusted him.

He regarded you for a moment, seemingly trying to read your expression that gave way to any trepidations you had. You looked back at him, having every intention to tell him you trusted him, but the words died in your throat when you saw his expression. He looked so open, so raw.

You let yourself bask in this moment, in the dark cab of his truck. There wasn’t an opportunity before now to just look at him freely. He had a scar below his right eye, and his nose was just a little crooked. You wondered if it was from getting in fights. You wondered what, or who, he had fought for.

He was quite beautiful, in a hard, unrelenting kind of way. You wanted to find out why he had built a thick wall around himself. You wanted to trace the lines of his jaw and feel the contours of his lips. 

His lips. Your eyes were laser-focused as his tongue came out to wet them. You found yourself thinking about what it would be like to taste them, to chase his tongue with yours.

He let out a shaky breath, snapping you back into the reality of the moment. You looked away, staring out the windshield, still watching his movements in the corner of your eye.

“We should go,” you wanted to flinch at the anxious edge to your voice.

Paz looked down at his lap and nodded.

“I’ll need you to navigate.”

You were grateful that Paz had stuffed a wad of cash in your hand last night before he dropped you off at your front door, mentioning to use it to Uber to work the next day. That meant you didn’t have to rush getting ready this morning to catch the bus to work, since you had left your car there.

It only took one tense night of locking your doors and windows, double checking the locks, drawing up your curtains and checking the locks again, followed by tossing and turning for hours on end only to fall asleep an hour before your alarm went off. It only took that one night for you to overthink everything.

It’s not that you were thinking about the creepy men that came in after closing. You had spent enough time to fret about that while you were trying to force your amped up body to relax last night.

This morning was spent overthinking every single interaction you ever had with Paz. He already had so much weight on his shoulders, running a business while his boss was off doing fuck knows what, while some seedy men were breathing down his back and basically stalking him at work.

Why should you add yourself to that list of responsibilities?

You had every intention to say good morning to him when you first saw him. He was walking out from the office, looking just about as exhausted as you were. You must have looked like a deer in headlights, because his eyebrows were raised in question, his head cocked to the side.

“I um, I was just going to the kitchen,” you said in an almost robotic voice.

You hightailed it out of the room before you could see the expression on his face.

Your heart was still pounding as you burst through the kitchen doors. This crush on your boss was really getting out of hand, and it only got worse after being in such close proximity last night. God, you probably looked ridiculous right now.

“What’s got you bursting in here like a bat out of hell?” You almost jumped out of your skin. Had Madge been next to you this whole time?

“I um, need coffee?” You said, accidentally wording it as a question. “If you have any extra, that is,” you added quickly.

Madge smirked, seeing right through your lie, but she didn’t question it.

“Just brewed a fresh pot. Knock yourself out.”

A little while later while you were back out front, stacking glasses between sips of coffee, you saw a plate slide into your peripheral.

“You look like you need this,” Madge winked. You looked down, mouth watering at the large pile of french fries.

“You’re a fucking saint, Madge.” You deadpanned. She cackled all the way back to the kitchen, throwing you another wink.

You didn’t see Paz much that day, and you were kind of grateful for it. Every time he entered the room you found some way to keep yourself busy to avoid his gaze.

He could probably tell you were being extra squirrely. Hell, everyone could tell. 

Donny had taken you aside earlier and offered to let you take a hit of his cousin’s homegrown, to which you politely declined. Dillon remarked on how tense you looked and offered to massage your shoulders, to which you told him to fuck off. 

Harlow didn’t say much, but she looked concerned. You pretended not to notice the sideways glances she was giving you.

A little while later, you were hunched over the bar, in the middle of writing out a supply order when you heard a throat clear from above you. It was a distinctly male sound. You almost dropped the pen in surprise when you looked up and saw Paz was standing before you, arm resting just a few inches from where yours was resting on the counter.

“I um,” Paz trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just wanted to see how you– how things are going out here.”

He sounded unsure of himself. He was standing a little less tall today, with his shoulder slumped over. Weary to the bone.

“I’m great, so good,” you babbled. “Nothing going on with me. Feeling peachy.” 

“Uh, cool, yeah. Okay, I’ve got to uh...” he removed his hand from his neck and gestured towards the office before making his exit.

You collapsed, letting your head hit the bar with a thump. God, you hoped no one saw that go down.

“So, what the fuck was that?” Harlow said, walking over. 

You sighed dramatically, your entire body feeling like it was being held down by bags of sand.

You lifted your head up a little, giving Harlow the most pathetic look you could muster.

“It was nothing,” you told her. You stood back up fully and busied yourself with organizing the coasters on the bar, hoping she would let it go.

“That didn’t look like nothing,” she said, trying to hide a smug smile.

You had two choices here. Tell Harlow about the sketchy men from last night, which was not an option, or tell her about the pathetic crush you were harboring for your boss.

You turned around to make sure no one else was around. Thankfully, Dillon was on his lunch break, Paz was holed up in the office, and Donny and Madge were both in the kitchen.

“Please don’t tell anyone–” you started, but were interrupted with a squeal.

“Harlow, shhhh!” You admonished her, desperately trying to reach out to her to clap a hand over her mouth to no avail. She danced away, wiggling like a toddler at a birthday party.

“You guys are totally fucking,” she whispered, her brown eyes wide as saucers.

“I– what? No we aren’t.”

“Come on,” she scoffed. “I saw that little trainwreck of an interaction back there.”

“No, really, we aren’t,” you told her, and added with a whisper, “though, I kind of wish we were.”

“Well,” she said, chewing on her lip in thought. “Judging by the way Paz was bodysnatched back there, he’s in the same boat.”

You rolled your eyes. No, that was absolutely because of the threatening men from last night. He just felt guilty you were now in the middle of all of it.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, missy,” she admonished, good-naturedly. “He totally looked scared shitless back there. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

You frowned in thought. He must be really freaked out by those men. You felt bad that you hadn’t noticed.

“No, I think it’s just a big misunderstanding,” you told her. “I think he thought he offended me last night because I was in a bad mood.” You were kind of impressed with the lies pouring out of your mouth at the moment. “I’m going to go talk to him.”

“Okay then,” Harlow  said, smirking at you. 

You charged towards the office and barged in before you could talk yourself out of it. It was Paz’s turn to look like a deer caught in headlights.

This was the first good look you had at him all day. The scruff on his chin was longer than usual. His eyes, despite being open wide in surprise, had dark shadows under them.

“I’m sorry, I should have knocked,” you said, turning to leave.

“Wait–” Paz reached out, grabbing your shoulder. He let go almost immediately, as if the touch burned him. “Come in.”

“I just wanted to see how you were doing after last night. I didn’t ask you how you were doing and I– I’m sorry.”

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me all day? Because you feel bad for not asking me how I’m doing?”

You blanched. Yeah, you felt bad but that definitely wasn’t why you were avoiding him.

“I guess, yeah,” you said, huffing out a laugh.

“I wish I could tell you more, I really do.” Paz said, sitting on the edge of the desk. It immediately groaned in protest, so he stood back up. “I don’t want any of the staff here getting involved with Orso’s bullshit. The less you all know the better.”

You nodded in understanding. You really did understand it. But something nagged at you.

“But what about you?” You asked him. “You’ve already been dragged into it.”

The sad, fleeting look on his face was devastating. You could tell he wasn’t used to others worrying about him. He must have caught himself, because his expression hardened in resolve a moment later.

“I can take care of myself,” he said. “I’m working on getting a hold of Orso. Once he’s back they’ll leave us alone.”

You weren’t sure if you believed him, but you let it drop for the time being. You would just need to keep an eye on him in your own way.

“You should get going,” Paz said, changing the subject. “Your shift was over 10 minutes ago and I’m sure you need to get some sleep.”

“Yeah, I really do,” you said, giving him a tender smile. “Make sure you get some sleep tonight too.”

“I’ll try,” he said, his smile matching the one on your face.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @maybege @recklessworry @cannedsoupsucks @pocket-pudding @simping-for-clones @gallowsjoker @idiotonastar @seratoninforyouseratoninforme @devanthus @legally-a-bastard @my-awakened-ghost 

#paz vizsla #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x you #paz vizsla au #bartender!paz

[adhd-disaster-willie]

you’re the one that brings the sun; chapter 2/6

Chapter 1

Warnings: Swearing, mention of death (very brief, not graphic)

Notes: Yes it is six chapters now lmao

---

Alex is one month, 4 breakdowns, and probably $100 worth of coffee (even with his employee discount) into his first semester of college and more than prepared for his daily screaming into a pillow session. He stumbles into his dorm, but comes to a screeching halt as soon as the door closes behind him.

“You’re painting the walls.”

Willies spins around, narrowly avoiding falling off his step stool, and gives Alex a lopsided grin. “Wonderful observation,” he quips, hopping down with a paintbrush still in his hand.

“You- you can’t do that.” Alex gapes at him, dumbfounded.

“Ah, can’t I?” Willie raises his eyebrows, smiling. His cheeks are flushed and his hair has been haphazardly pulled up, flyaways falling to frame his face. Alex shakes himself from his reverie. This is not the time to be admiring Willie, idiot.

“No- that’s… that’s against the rules,” Alex says desperately. “The RA lives like, right next door.”

“He’s colorblind,” Willie reassures Alex. “And a homophobic asshole.”

“He’s- what? I…” Alex runs his hands over his face, breathing in deeply. “Okay. Okay. Uh, why are you painting the walls?”

Willie settles into the couch, humming thoughtfully. “I was working on that one essay but couldn’t focus because-” he waves his hands around his head vaguely, like that’s supposed to explain his thoughts. “-and then I remembered that there was a sale at Home Depot so here we are.”

Alex looks up at the wall, trying to ignore the anxiety clutching at his chest like mistletoe to a tree. It’s fine, it’ll be fine. “Why blue?” His voice comes out much less calm than he’d hoped.

“It’s my favorite color,” Willie replies like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m only painting that one wall anyway, the sale was just for the mini paint buckets. I think a pop of color is nice, y’know?” He jerks his hands in the direction of the wall, grinning.

“You’re gonna have us killed,” Alex states simply. “I’m gonna be expelled and have to crash at Julie’s again and I won’t have a college education and the band is gonna fail and I’ll be uneducated and living on the streets.”

“Woah, hey.” Wille stands up, face knitted with worry. He sets a hand on Alex’s shoulder, steadying him. “Dude, I didn’t know it would freak you out. Shit, uh, I can paint over it. Really, it was stupid and impulsive.”

Alex shakes his head. “No, no it’s fine. It’s just-” In for 4, out for 8, deep breaths Alex. “Just stupid anxiety, I’m overthinking.”

Willie tilts his head to the side slightly. “Yea? You sure you’re cool with it?”

And he really is… cool with it, at least sort of. Apparently there’s an override switch in his brain that makes it so of something makes Willie happy, Alex can’t help but be okay with it. Huh. That’s new.

“Um…” Now that his brain is less foggy, Alex is realizing that Willie is like… really close. “Uh, yea. Just… don’t go painting any murals in the bathroom.”

Willie laughs loudly, throwing his head back and bouncing slightly on his heels. Alex’s gaze rakes over his face, golden sunlight seeping through the window and dancing across Willie’s cheeks. There’s a certain comfort to the way the sun comes through the window each evening. Miraculously, their dorm is positioned in an odd way that gives them a west and east facing window; and the way the light drapes over Willie is different at sunset compared to sunrise. It’s looser, makes him look free and like he keeps the sun right in his pocket, only letting it out when Alex is near. Stupidly, Alex thinks he wouldn’t have much trouble forgiving any future bathroom murals. One month, they’ve known each other for a month and Alex is already waxing poetic about him. He scolds himself internally.

“Tell you what,” Willie starts, stepping back and gesturing vaguely. “I’ll buy you a coffee to make up for it.”

“Dude it’s like 5pm,” Alex reasons, but his resolve is already dwindling at the sight of Willie’s playful grin.

“And? It’s the weekend.” Willie tosses an arm over Alex’s shoulders, sticking his bottom lip out in a dramatic pout. “It’s just coffee.”

“Remind me what happened last time you drank coffee.”

Willie sighs mournfully. “We do not speak of the carnation incident.”

“Right,” Alex chuckles. “Okay. Fine. But no more painting the walls.”

“Aye aye captain!” Willie gives a theatrical salute before waltzing out the door with Alex at his heels.

5:30pm in late September means it’s just chilly enough to wear jeans instead of shorts and just sunny enough to see light slipping through the trees and grass. Willie seems to be a magnet for the sunlight, leading it in a subtle dance as they walk across campus. Alex follows the way his hair sways in the light breeze, painted in a sheet of gold and bronze, like it’s been dipped in a liquid campfire. He wonders if his heartbeat is synced to the rhythm of Willie’s feet, marveling at how each step seems to send a ripple through Alex’s entire body. It’s unfair, the way the evening sun makes everything seem softer and more poetic, and Alex thinks that he could write an entire song about the way Willie glances over at him with a teasing smile. In a- a friend way of course. Because everyone thinks about how beautiful their friends look while walking. Of course.

Willie turns to Alex with his head tilted slightly. His expression is frustratingly unreadable. There’s blue paint brushed across the bridge of his nose and his left cheekbone, like his skin is stained with bits of the sky and Alex has a weird urge to bring his hand up and brush it away, but also a weird desire for that paint to be there forever; it suits Willie. His eyes, shining amber in the light, glance over Alex’s face and Alex feels like he’s being put under a spotlight except Willie’s the only person in the audience. Willie finally speaks his mind, his voice gentle. “Your hair looks golden in this light”

Alex feels his entire face go pink and he almost squeaks “You can’t just say those things!” But his tongue seems to be caught in the back of his throat so he opts for a mortified smile before turning to focus on the sidewalk right ahead of him. Willie doesn’t elaborate, or pressure Alex into responding, and they lapse back into a comfortable silence.

It isn’t until they’re just outside the coffeeshop that Alex comes to what is probably a mildly important realization. Bobby’s working right now. Bobby, Carrie’s cousin who’s known Alex as long as Luke and Reggie have, occasionally plays with the band, and has been involved in too many conversations about a certain long-haired skater. Alex’s stomach fills with an unmistakable dread at this thought.

“Alex? You good?” Willie bumps their shoulders and shoots him a smile that’s soft around the edges. “You can just get tea if you’re that anxious about the coffee.”

“No,” Alex chuckles, attempting to mask his stilted breathing. “It’s fine, coffee’s a good idea anyway. I need to stay up and practice that one horrible drum solo my professor insists I perfect.”

“And you have to do that tonight?”

“Yea, the band has a gig on Sunday so Luke’s probably gonna lock me in the studio to rehearse all of tomorrow.”

Willie giggles bubbily, his eyes squinting in the way that makes Alex’s stomach flip. Alex opens the door and a stupid piece of his mind itches to grab Willie’s hand to pull him in. He doesn’t.

Alex likes his workplace. The lights are warm and drape like a blanket over the building, the walls are decked in posters and paintings and vinyls, the windows are clothed with too many plants to count, and the chairs are the type you can just melt into and fall asleep. If he was still religious, he’d thank god for the fact that he was able to score a job here instead of a stiff, concrete chain store. The place is owned by the sweetest middle-aged lesbian couple who like to bring their cats by and let Alex take home leftover food when he has the closing shift. He likes it, and finding a customer service job Alex enjoys is like finding a needle in a haystack. And yet, his whole body is buzzing with nerves. He loves Bobby, he does, but the boy is just as fond of teasing Alex as Luke and Reggie are, and of course Willie had to pick right now.

Willie’s grinning as soon as he processes his surroundings. “Dude you didn’t tell me this place was so cool!” He grips Alex’s forearm excitedly and Alex’s entire brain just… short circuits. He’s sure Willie’s gushing about the mural on the back wall, because he has the awestruck and giddy expression he always gets when talking about art or skateboarding, but Alex’s brain is not registering a single thing Willie says.

Alex hears a loud and deliberate cough and is swiftly pulled from his mind, realizing three things: He is blatantly staring at Willie with a smile he doesn’t even want to see, Willie is still holding onto his arm and rambling, and Bobby is looking on with an expression that tells Alex that there is most certainly a new picture on his phone that will make for wonderful blackmail material.

“Alex, who could this be?” Bobby asks, and of course he’s the one with a scary good poker face because Alex almost believes that he truly is clueless.

Willie lets go of Alex’s arm, a cruel trick of the light making it look like he’s blushing. He gives Bobby a wave. “That’d be me. I’m Willie, Alex’s roommate.”

“Oh!” Bobby smiles innocently. “The famous Willie!”

“Famous?” Willie cocks an eyebrow at Alex. “You talk about me, hotdog?”

“Hotdog?” Bobby gives Alex an expression identical to Willie’s, but laced with mischief instead of fondness. Alex has an inexplicable urge to flee.

“Let’s just get our drinks,” Alex squeaks, herding Willie up to the counter and sneaking a death glare at Bobby on the way over.

“Hmm, and what’ll that be?” Bobby asks, making a point to plaster on his customer service smile.

“Medium cold brew with cinnamon almond-milk foam for me and a medium green tea for Willie, decaf.”

Willie looks at Alex incredulously. “You know my tea order?”

“It’s- it’s all you drink!” Alex squeaks defensively, picking at the collar of his shirt because when did it get so warm?

Bobby snickers. “Okay, one pretentious-ass cold brew and a horribly boring tea.”

Willie goes to pay, chuckling under his breath.

“Your drinks should be ready shortly, by the way Alex, I like this one,” Bobby snickers.

“Oookay!” Alex blurts, dragging Willie from the counter in hopes that he didn’t hear the last bit of Bobby’s sentence. His cheeks are burning as he directs them to his favorite corner of the shop. There are two chairs nestled in the corner, partially hidden by a rickety bookshelf and a wall of plants that hang down and will occasionally brush against the chair’s occupant. In the mornings, the sun shines through in a way that makes the chairs perfect for curling up like a cat seeking warmth. Alex sinks down into the seat nearest to the wall with a contented sigh and shuts his eyes, humming softly. “This is my favorite chair,” he mutters, eyes still closed.

“Hmm.” Willie’s response sounds odd, so Alex cracks open one eye only to find Willie sat in the chair beside him, elbows on the armrest closest to Alex, his chin resting in his palms. He’s looking at Alex with his lips curled into an almost wistful smile and suddenly Alex feels awfully overwhelmed. “It’s a very nice chair,” Willie says, leaning back to relax his head against the cushion and swinging his legs over the arm rest. Alex almost mourns his gaze, but he quickly shakes that feeling. It’s silly.

A gentle breeze drifts in through the window, which is always open slightly at this time of year, when it’s not too hot and not too cold out. Alex’s nose wrinkles, feeling the plant hanging above his head dance across his face in response to the wind. He hears Willie giggle beside him and he whips around, definitely not pouting. “What?”

“You made a face,” Willie responds, gesturing to his own face and mimicking Alex’s previous expression. “It was cu- it was uh, funny.” Willie goes red for a split second, but Alex writes it off as the heat and is about to ask if he wants the window closed when Bobby comes walking up, drinks in hand.

“I’m obligated by contract to warn you, Willie, that Alex with caffeine past 3 is never a sight you want to behold,” Bobby says, handing them their drinks and pulling up a chair to sit across from them.

“There is no such contract,” Alex protests. “And you’re exaggerating.” He takes a sip of his coffee, glaring at Bobby from behind the cup.

“Maybe not a formal one.” Bobby turns to face Willie now. “Seriously, caffeine at night makes him emotional for some reason.”

“Liar!”

“No dog movies when Alex has coffee at night, he’ll be sobbing for hours, even if the dog lives.”

“Noted,” Willie says, laughing. Alex contemplates kicking Bobby.

“Hey Bobbers, remember that time when you tried jumping an electric fence half naked because you got caught sneaking into a pool at night to impress a girl?”

Bobby blinks, his expression uncaring. “You cannot embarrass me,” he says. “I have no shame whatsoever.”

“Of course you don’t,” Alex grumbles.

“Anyway, as I was saying, Willie-”

“We should get back before dark!” Alex interrupts. He grabs Willie’s hand and all but shoves him from the shop, shouting at Bobby the whole way to prevent him from saying anything more to embarrass him.

Willie looks up at Alex, clearly amused, and they begin the walk back to their dorm. “Bobby seems nice,” He says nonchalantly.

Alex groans loudly. “No, no he’s terrible. He is one of my best friends and I despise him.”

Willie nods, sipping his tea. “Your friends are all pretty cool.”

“Yea… yea they’re great.” Alex pauses, sighing. “I don’t know where I’d be without them. The streets, probably,” Alex snorts bitterly at the last bit. It doesn’t cross his mind that Willie hasn’t been filled in on this. He doesn’t want to get into it. Willie seems to get the hint, brushing the confusion from his face in favor of looking up at the sky.

“I’ve always wished I was better at landscape paintings,” Willie whispers, his tone practically reverent. “Some people can just… capture every detail and emotion in- in sunsets and what-not. And it’s- it’s insane!” He gestures wildly with his hands as he talks, tea threatening to spill everywhere. “I can do abstract just fine, it’s my favorite. But my landscapes are always so… bland. I wish I could paint the feeling behind it as much as the plain details.”

Alex has seen his landscapes, and thinks them far from bland, but he doesn’t say anything. Willie has a way of turning the most horrifically boring pieces into storms of color and emotion, and Alex thinks that each brushstroke holds a piece of his soul. But he keeps his mouth shut.

“The sunset is nice,” Willie says. “I love when the clouds are pink like this. My mom used to-” he laughs nostalgically, remembering something. “-she used to tell me stories about the clouds. They all had their own personalities and lives and families. She would sit at her easel, painting the clouds, and I would be at her feet just… absolutely mesmerized.” There’s a certain shine in Willie’s eyes that Alex hasn’t seen before; it’s bittersweet and sort of disconnected. “And somehow… somehow she could show the cloud’s personalities in the paintings. I wish I could do that. She was the one who made me love art; I remember when I got my first skateboard, I stayed up for hours painting the bottom and I was so proud of it. And after I grew out of it she... she hung it on the wall above the mantel and would tell everyone who saw it how awesome it was”

Willie’s taken on a new demeanor, and Alex realizes this is the first time he’s spoken about his parents. “She seems amazing,” Alex mutters, voice quiet like he’s afraid of breaking something.

“Yea,” Willie replies. “She… she was.” He lets out a shaky breath. Oh. “She was a single mom, I never knew my father, never had the chance to ask about him. She died in a car crash when I was 14, I’ve lived with my uncle Caleb since.”

“Oh. Willie I-”

“It’s fine. I miss her, but it’s been four years y’know? I’m not… shrouded in grief like I used to be.” He gives Alex a genuine smile to prove it, and bumps their shoulder together. “C’mon, we’re almost home.”

Home. Home used to be Luke and Reggie and Julie, now… now Alex isn’t quite sure. College still feels new and different, and he often feels like his doesn’t belong. His dorm doesn’t feel much like home, it feels like a hotel room, like he’s a guest. But Willie… Willie feels more like home than anything in that dorm. Willie and his stupid blue wall and his long rambling and loud laughing. Home is Luke and Reggie and Julie and Willie, and that’s completely and utterly terrifying to Alex.

---

Chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

Notes: This chapter was gonna be longer but I felt like that was a good place to leave off. I hope you liked it :)))

Taglist: @thatsanewflavor @spookiest-sapphic @dovesgrangers @julie-n-phantoms @frostknyte @thegaylink @nervousmiracletrash @crummycassidy @fairygclds @reallyintrospectivepeople @madsmax-37 @swamp-acad @kat-maybe-not @sunsetcurve123 @lookingthroughmirrors @queer-fandom-enby

#willex #jatp #julie and the phantoms #willex fic #jatp fic #willex fanfiction #willex fanfic #jatp fanfic #jatp fanfiction #willow writes #wille jatp #willie nolastname #alex mercer #bobby wilson #bobby jatp #reggie peters #luke patterson #julie molina #ytotbts #you’re the one that brings the sun

[monsoonblooms12]

The Butterfly Effect (Ethan Ramsey x f!MC)

Summary: The Journey from where it all began to where they are now. From a 2-minute power nap to a Miami kiss, Pooja and Ethan have come a long way. From Pooja's POV (Set in OH Bk 1 Ch 10 and contains flashbacks from OH Bk 1 Ch 1, Ch 4 and Ch 5)❤

The Butterfly Effect: Discovered by Edward Lorenz, this theory suggests that something small and insignificant, can alter situations in such a way that leads to utterly drastic changes. For example, a butterfly flaps its wings at an Amazonian Jungle and subsequently a storm ravages half of Europe. (This has to be one of my favorite theories ever🦋)

A/N: I got inspired from a dark Academia quote and here we are with 2.4K of mess. But I enjoyed providing all the fbs from Poo's POV and filling in the gaps of the unknown. And all the DbC peeps, I am trying to finish ch 8 believe me😭

Thank you so much to @jamespotterthefirst for Pre-reading! Love you🧡

If you enjoyed the story, please like it, leave a comment or reblog. Your feedback keeps me going🦋

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X f!MC (Pooja Sharma)

Word Count: around 2.4K

Rating: General

Category: A messy mix of Fluff and Angst

Warnings: None that I found

A grain of sand, almost imperceptible to the human eye, 2 millimetres in diameter. Just a tiny little grain of sand, a single one. One would wonder how great of an effect that could produce?

A single grain of sand, eliminated from the base of a sand sculpture, can set on fire a cascade of events that result in something as drastic as the demolition of the entire sculpture. Just a trifling 2 mm sized grain of sand.

Tufts of hair gently swayed with the swooshing ocean breeze, the very grains of sand of which her mind was thinking about slip through gaps of her toes. It's a calming atmosphere, having a Zen-like effect on her racing heart and confused reasoning.

The echoing crash of ocean tides, the hushed ruffle of her shimmering purple dress, and the pattern of her footsteps of the white sand, now silver under the enchanting moonbeams.

She could not think about bad ideas and good ideas anymore. Nor could she obliterate the delicate touch of peach lips ingrained in her mind. Everything was a lock of tangled hair, a chaotic mess in her mind.

And when you can't disentangle a mess, you just tear it off.

That was what she was doing, tearing herself away before her mind got engulfed by a cocoon of ambiguity and concealed probabilities, restricting her to get out without getting transformed into someone else.

Legs exhausted after strolling for who knows how long, Pooja sits down, not bothering about the sheet of sand fragments that adhered begrudgingly to the purple satin.

A simple motion ensues, the florid hair tie holding her brown hair strands in a ponytail, now lay in her hand, giving them the liberty to enjoy the tranquillity of the idyllic scene they found themselves in.

Relaxation. That was what she anticipated. The soothing of her racing heart, the clearing of her muddled head, the easing of her bothering thoughts.

But it never came, the relaxation she desired.

Instead, her fingers, for a reason mysterious even to her, fidgeted the diamond imitation bracelet that embellished her left wrist. A twitch unveiled a vague scar, a remembrance of an old episode entirely cleared off from her mind.

Flashback

Pooja was a Potterhead. An extreme one indeed. Sometimes the thought made her chuckle. How she despised the books once, presuming they were overrated. And then, as if a magic trick had been performed on her, she became the Maven of the Harry Potter club.

But being a Potterhead and having to live in a niche under the stairs did not go hand in hand. The room under a staircase was still a room under a staircase. And every day, her mind replayed the poem of curses to her, as if to warn her to never search for an apartment on a Facebook Group ever again.

And now she stood, waiting for the century-old toaster's ping, as sleep struck like pin-pricks on her eyelids, threatening to close them off. It was a bad day today, the phone battery drained, and she, coffee drained. And the cherry on the top? Today was the first day of her residence at the most prestigious hospital in the entire States.

Uff!

She yawned the hundredth time, sleep playing a tiring game of chess with her mind, and giving it a Check! every now and then.

I don't even know a goddamn coffee shop around in here!

Displeased grunts accompanied the thought as she took the knife and began slicing the apple she had been floundering around for quite some time.

One Slice, and Another, and Ano-

Snorr!

What an ability it was to fall asleep anywhere, in any position! What harm would a "Power Nap" of a minute or two do? Right?

AAHHH!

The scream came out in bits, first when her eyes fluttered open with the sudden pain. A pause followed when she actually looked at the source of it and after her eyes and mind registered what was happening, came the second scream.

She was getting the taste of just how profitable the power nap was.

Hurrying away, she rummaged around for a first aid box, failed to find it, trotted to her Harry Potter adobe and took out the medical goodies she had brought with her. After ransacking through it, she found the antiseptic and the swabs she was looking for. Then a faint sound came from the blinking cellular and she picked it up, not waiting for breakfast. Just as she clicked the unlock button...

HOLY SHIT!

What? How? Her mind could not register. The only thing she understood was that she was notoriously late for her first day, and now she would have to do all the running that she had avoided for all the preceding years.

Letting out another pained groan, she kicked two flowerpots on her way to the kitchen, took the toasted slices of bread, switched off the stupid piece of machinery and ran.

She was sure she would have come first in any marathon if she had run in them with the speed she was racing right now.————————————————————————

Did she know about Dolores Hudson? No, she didn't. Had she planned on telling about her to Dr Ramsey? No, she hadn't.

The two words had inadvertently slipped off her tongue, not envisioning it as an indication. But as soon as they reached his ears, it felt as if a domino had been pushed. One pushed on to the other, leading to a chain of events that had given no hints, no warnings at all.

And now she was in the NICU, chatting with the man whom she considered an idol, a role model as if they were old companions. It was an enchanting experience to see the intern-terrorizing gentleman, so ... normal.

She questioned her mind's choice of word, but she did not completely disagree. To see Dr Ramsey, sitting here with an intern, talking with her, for no particular purpose other than the fact that she decided to stay back here in contrast to any other person, who would have valued their sleep than watching over a premature baby with whom she had no connection.

When sleep muddled her thoughts, she didn't realize what she was doing. Head lowered into his shoulder in a motion that felt like a reflex embedded in the nerve cords of her spine. She missed the gentle smile, decorating the handsome face of his, as he watched her from the corner of his eye, his eyes holding an emotion unrecognizable.

Was it affection? Pride? Adoration? Or something completely different? Who knew.

But if there was something she did know after that day, it was that she felt lucky, damn lucky, for that slip of the tongue.————————————————————————

How idiotic of her the decision was, she didn't want to talk about it.

Pooja had only found herself running the way she was running now on the first day of her residence, and she had only herself, and no one else to blame.

Why did she think that giving up on the most wanted position for every medicine intern in Edenbrook for friends when every one of them participated in it was a good idea?

If only her brain comprehended her priorities appropriately, she wouldn't have to rush through roads like a person who was missing their train.

Panting, grunting, and completely tensed, she arrives at Edenbrook. Steps don't slow down until she arrives before the light beige door, huffs and puffs, not pausing for a split second. She doubted if her legs still had the power to walk or if she would have to crawl into the office.

Nah, no more embarrassment, she would not be able to bear it. With the power that remained in overworked limbs, she knocked, entered and gave her reasons for the delay. And then, by a margin of a minute, she signed the sheet, absolutely normal but still holding the power to twist her entire life in an unforeseen way.

But did she regret it? She couldn't, and she wouldn't.————————————————————————

Miami. The city of gorgeous beaches, giving the aesthetic of peach and teal life. The expensive marble-floored hotel rooms in which she found herself was unreal. Definitely not made for some random intern.

Gorgeous decorated interior, delicately manicured lawns, elegantly made fountains, all standing majestically, giving a fight to each other. She glided through the vast space, joy overcoming job as she breathed the calming salty air coming from the oceanfront, which appeared like a picture frame in front of her. She had never seen anything so perfect in her life.

It was like Ataraxia.

She preferred Mountains over Beaches. She always had, and without a doubt, she always will. But when something looks so heavenly, it would be absolute stupidity to forego the chance of visiting it, even if it contrasted her preferences.

Forgetting the not-so-pleasant interaction with Declan Nash, which appeared like a stone in her perfect day, she let her sensations delve into the delicious culinary masterpieces that melted in her mouth like wax.

All the merrymaking and socializing drained her. But the gentle talks, soft giggles that she shared with him, an extraordinary, priceless moment, seemed to charge her, rejuvenate her. A corner of her heart did hope for something to happen. But she hushed it, not wanting to spoil the casualness, the beauty of the simplicity that blew in the air between them.

It felt like existing in the setting of one of those Michael Faudet quotes, one of them particularly being emphasized by her mind.

"As our eyes meet, all-time seizes to exist. The dying second frozen like petals of red roses kissed by autumn frost."

Pooja's mind still reeled, falling freely into the void as passion and some unnamed emotion overtook them. His heart steady under the touch of her palm and hers racing under the touch of his. She would not be able to remove the unreal image from her idiot of a heart, even if she wanted to.

Sleep refused to come to her, even after calling it repeatedly. She sat up, relieving the memory, playing in front of her like a sepia movie on the silver screen. Eyes travelling around, only to fall on a bouquet kept neatly at one of the antique corner tables.

It was white lilies and purple orchids.

Pooja Sharma didn't know the language of flowers when she received them, with a tag casually signed as E. A vague tag like that did not help to know the actual sender. The man whom she kissed had a name beginning with E, the hotel she was staying in had a name beginning with E.

Hell, even the hospital she worked in had a name with the letter E.

But if she had known the language of flowers, she would have pinpointed the symbolism hidden in it.

The White Lily carrying the meaning of Purity, Sweetness while Purple Orchids a clear cut indicator of admiration and elegance.

She would have been able to tell which E had sent the delicately wrapped piece that now lay uncared for in the corner of her room.

Feelings overcrowded reason, and she found herself suffocated in the very room that seemed heavenly to her in the morning.

Slowly and silently, she walked away to find the solace which he or she could not give her, in nature.

Flashback ends

As the amaranthine ocean glistens, waves crash and the foamy water rushes to engulf her feet as she stood, hands wrapped around herself, she felt she had truly found solace. There was a spiral, an unending coil of memories, a string which, when pulled, tugged in emotions hidden in darkest corners, forgotten but related, all tied together.

It was surprising, enigmatic, how much the little brain of hers, the soft heart of hers, holds in them. A constant battle of reason and emotions ravage the tired battlefields of her body. How casually, reminiscences of a bygone day appears, flicker like the reflection in the mirror of the calm pond water, but remain clear through the ripples that spread on the surface from time to time. That's how memories work, still clear, still dear, even after passing through chaotic ripples of time.

As she reaches the end of the spiral, the helix of her thoughts, she finds herself even more astonished than she was when she reverted to the first pages of the memoirs of her stay in Boston.

It was just a minute, or a word or two. Always so insignificant.

Every ignored act added one upon another and resulted in the catastrophic mess of heartbreak and affection she found herself today.

The 2-minute Power Nap of her first day? It led to the 2-degree shift of the knife and the scar that her finger was tracing now.

That 2-degree shift led to the delay in her reaching the hospital?

It resulted in her meeting her mentor, which gave her the chance to do the thoracotomy with him, to experience how it felt when his hand enveloped hers.

Those two words that slipped as a nonchalant thought off her tongue? It was why she could know how Ethan Ramsey was, behind the tough exteriors, the short-tempered demeanour, how it felt to place her head gently on his shoulder, to wake up to his glowing face.

And that one minute past midnight, when she signed up for the challenge that would change her life? That is why she is here, hair ruffling and eyes glistening, the Leucos Moon reflecting on the glistening water, the crepuscule spread mystically around her. That is why she knew how it felt to be touched by him, kissed by him, to get lost in him.

When Edward Lorenz discovered the butterfly event, he had correlated mathematics and meteorology. Had he thought that the same butterfly effect had turned an unassuming intern's life upside down, pushed her so back in the void of circumstances that it was impossible to come back?

Just a 2-degree shift of a knife, and now she was here in Miami. Just like the unassuming butterfly's flap of wing, which now ravaged a storm through her life.

Glassy droplets make a slow trail down the curve of her cheeks and drop on the scar as if trying to meet the origin which has brought her to the coordinates of the present.

And even though she did not know what would happen in the days to come, she was happy, truly happy, for that shift of her knife and for the 2 minutes of the power nap.

For the butterfly effect of love.

PS: Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have a great day ahead! Love, Manamee🧡.

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[smaidjor]

and i pay for my place by the ring (Chapter 3)

Hey everyone and welcome to the third and likely final chapter of this saga! When I was writing this, I told my friends it might end up the shortest chapter.

Spoiler alert: it was not, in fact, the shortest chapter.

Anyways, thank you guys for sticking with me through this insane journey of angst writing! The story doesn't end here, but the fic does because I think I'm going to be switching how I write it a little bit. You'll see if I ever get the energy to write the continuation.

(Also, I've stopped putting AO3 links in the actual post because then it doesn't show up in the tag.)

Anyways, enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Title: to turn at last to paths that lead home

Chapter Wordcount: 4686

Content warnings: mentions of death, violence, blood, mild injury, religion, self-esteem issues. There is also something that could be considered similar to deadnaming, though the character is not necessarily trans, so read with caution if that could be triggering to you.

Actual fic under the cut:

That night, Scott dreams he’s a child again, playing amongst the peaks with Xornoth by his side. They laugh as they dart out of his reach, and he jumps over a rock to try and catch them.

“Too slow,” Xornoth snickers, and Scott glares at them.

“Someday I’ll be ten times as fast as you, and stronger too!”

They laugh again and tackle him into the grass, forceful enough to push him down but not enough to really hurt. “Alright, little bro.”

“You’re only older by seven minutes!”

“Seven minutes, more like seven times cooler than you!”

Scott reaches up and tickles them, grinning wickedly as they yelp and roll off him.

The scene shifts, and this time it’s a teenaged Xornoth laying on the hill beside him, staring up at the sky.

“Hey, Scott?”

“Yeah?”

“If anything ever happens to me-”

“It won’t,” Scott interrupts, heart in his throat. “Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

“It could-”

“No.”

They sigh. “Alright. But if it ever does, I need you to promise me one thing.”

“What is it?”

“I need you to promise that you’ll take care of Rivendell.”

Scott glares at them. “Rivendell hates me. Don’t ask-”

“Please. Scott, please just promise me this one thing.” Their face is deathly serious. “I don’t- nothing’s going to happen to me, but I need to know that Rivendell will be safe if anything does.”

"But-"

"Please, Scott. I know you would do brilliant at it, and I need the guarantee.

He sighs but ultimately gives in. “I wouldn't, but fine. I promise.”

Xornoth nods, seemingly satisfied. “You’re leaving tonight, right?”

“I am.”

“Then take this.” They roll over and press something into his hand. “You’ll need it.”

Scott looks down to see Vilya, the silver band gleaming in the sunlight. “Xor, you can’t give me this. This is-”

“I know perfectly well what it is, little bro.” He looks up to find them smiling sadly. “And I know you’ll need it. Now better wake up, your husband’s calling.”

“My wha-”

Scott’s plunged back into awareness to the sound of Jimmy calling his name.

“Scott? Please?” He sounds shaken, but it barely registers in Scott’s sleepy brain.

Scott rolls over and blinks his eyes open to see Jimmy watching him with concern. “Five more minutes, darling.”

“I think something’s wrong,” Jimmy says, urgent. “It feels wrong. Really wrong.”

That wakes Scott up, alright, the fear in his husband’s voice sending a spike of worry through him as he sits up. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. It’s alright, go back to sleep.”

“No, no, I trust your gut.” He trusts Jimmy more than anything else, really, which is why he gets up and out of bed. “Let’s go look, and if it’s nothing then I’ll sleep more, okay?”

Jimmy nods, hurrying after him. “I have a really terrible feeling, Scott. Be careful, please.”

“I should be telling that to you,” Scott teases.

“Hey, I’ve gotten more careful!”

Scott can’t help but laugh at how offended his husband sounds, but his mirth dies as quickly as it came. “You’re right, Jimmy. Something isn’t right.” It’s making the hairs on his arm stand up, a prickling unease similar to what he felt before the battle where Jimmy died.

“I know, it feels awful!”

“Mhm.” Scott grabs his favorite axe, glancing back at Jimmy one more time. “Stay behind me, just in case.”

He swings the door open. It takes a moment to spot what’s wrong, but once he does, his heart plummets; Xornoth is standing across the valley next to his enchanting tower, their face and body twisted with corruption but still unmistakably Scott’s sibling.

“That’s the demon!” Jimmy hisses. He sounds terrified, and Scott can’t blame him, much as it feels like a punch to the gut to know that his sibling is the one who’s been harassing his husband.

Scott grits his teeth. Protect Rivendell, that’s what he promised Xornoth all those years ago. “That?”

“Yes!”

“Right. Okay.” He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself. “Jimmy, I need you to listen to exactly what I say right now. If I say get down, you get down. If I say run, you run and don’t look back no matter what you hear. Can you do that?”

Jimmy’s response comes a second later. “I trust you. If you say run, I’ll run.” The pure faith in the words is enough to make Scott’s throat close up for a moment, choked with sudden emotion at the level of trust Jimmy’s showing him even after everything that happened.

He shoves that feeling down. “Alright. Give me your engagement ring.”

“Wh-”

“Trust me. Please.” Scott’s nearly begging, voice cracking a bit on the last word. Jimmy must hear how weak he sounds, because he gives in without question, handing over Vilya.

Scott slides it onto his finger, hands trembling just a bit as he does. He remembers being given this ring, being just as terrified by how much Xornoth trusted him then as he is by how much Jimmy trusts him now. Ironic, really, that now he’ll be using this ring against the person who gave it to him to begin with. “Okay, Jimmy. I’m about to go out the front door, and when I do, I need you to go out the side door over there and run for the stables. When you get there, roll in the mud and then run for the village. Speed over stealth, corrupted elves track by smell and sound rather than sight.” He keeps the instructions quick and clear, praying that Jimmy’s not stubborn enough to disobey. He can’t lose Jimmy, he can’t.

Thank god, Jimmy nods.

Scott takes another deep breath, brain awhirl as he tries to figure out how he’s going to keep both Jimmy and Rivendell safe. “From there, I need you to track down an elf called Gilnar and tell them to lock down the kingdom and warn everyone of the danger.” After a moment's thought, he adds “I also need you to tell them that Lord Smajor orders them to protect you.” Gilnar’s trustworthy, they’ll look after Jimmy.

“What about you?” Jimmy asks. “Will you be okay?”

His heart aches at the concern, and it aches more when he opens his mouth to lie. “I will, I promise.” He doesn’t meet Jimmy’s eyes, knowing he’ll break if he does.

Thankfully, Jimmy says nothing about it, instead reaching for one of the spare swords. Good, good, he can protect himself.

“Ready?” Scott asks.

“Ready,” Jimmy confirms, though his voice trembles.

Scott shoves down the part of him that screams that this wasn’t supposed to be his responsibility, that he should just run while he can. He made a promise to his sibling all those years ago, and he’s going to keep it even if it’s now them that he has to defend Rivendell from.

He steps out the door.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Jimmy bolt for the stables, but the greater part of his attention is focused on Xornoth, still floating ominously across the valley.

“You do not belong here,” Scott calls out in Sindarin. It’s a challenge more than anything, practically asking them to come fight him.

He knows he’s messing with forces he doesn’t understand and cannot win against, knows it as surely as he knows his own name. Xornoth has always been faster and stronger, after all, ever since they were children.

And yet-

And yet he has to try regardless. After all, when they were children, Scott always tried to win anyways, even if it never worked. And now, the weight of an empire resting on his shoulders and his husband somewhere in the village behind him, the stakes are higher than just his pride. So he squares his shoulders and doesn’t back down as Xornoth appears in front of him with a ripple of smoke, a cruel smirk on their face.

“Well, well, well, dear brother. Never thought it’d come to this.”

“Neither did I,” Scott retorts.

They grin again. “I belong here just as much as you, you know.”

He raises his axe, gritting his teeth. “You did once, but not anymore.”

Xornoth laughs as they dart out of the way of his blows, tendrils of corruption curling around them and reaching for him. “I belong here more than you ever will.”

He stumbles back, trying to get out of their reach. “That’s not true either.”

“Oh, but it is. I thought you’d be too much of a coward to ever face me, you know. Spineless little Scott, running away from his problems like you ran away from our family.”

“We had no family left! It was just you and me!”

“And you left me to be consumed by my own greed and despair. The sibling you know died years ago and it’s all because you’re a coward.”

Scott flinches, barely bringing his axe up in time to block their next strike. “That’s not- that wasn't my fault! I didn't mean for that to happen."

“Do you really think that? Are you really foolish enough to think that you didn’t hurt me by leaving?” Xornoth’s grin is razor-sharp.

“You told me to leave if it would make me happier,” Scott cries, lapsing back into English without thinking about it.

“You shouldn’t have wanted to leave in the first place. No real elven ruler would want to leave the oldest sanctuary of the elves.”

They have him backing up again and again, barely holding them off. “I tried- I was-”

“Look at you, an elf speaking a human language,” Xornoth hisses. “How did you ever think you were going to be good enough for them? You’re never going to be the real king of Rivendell, Elinar.”

“Don’t- don’t call me that,” Scott pants.

“Elinar,” they taunt again. “Stupid, stupid Elinar. Weak, pathetic little Elinar.”

Scott stumbles backward, landing on his butt in the grass as Xornoth towers over him. His axe falls to the side, snatched by a tendril of corruption as they reach out, digging their claws into his shoulders and pushing him down. Scott’s helpless to do anything when those same tendrils reach for him, the smell of rot permeating the air. They hesitate for a moment, hovering above him, and then Xornoth grins sadistically and the corruption snatches him.

It hurts. It hurts more than any pain he’s ever felt. More than Etho’s arrow in his throat, more than Martyn’s arrow to the chest, more than Ren’s sword through his back. More than even waking up back in Rivendell. The corruption wraps itself around his throat and wrists, pinning him to the ground as his older sibling grins. Scott distantly registers that he’s screaming, writhing as he tries to get out of their hold, but everything’s fuzzy with his brain clouded by pain. He doesn’t want to die, not like this. Anything but this.

There’s a faint, familiar voice in the distance, though Scott can’t focus on what it’s saying through the haze of pain. It sounds comforting, though, and he clings to the noise like a lifeline.

All of the sudden, the pain stops and the corruption draws back slightly as Xornoth turns away.

“What did you say to me?” they hiss, in English this time.

“I said you’re ugly!” The same voice calls, and this time Scott recognizes it as Jimmy. Oh, god, Jimmy. “And you suck! Leave my husband alone!”

Xornoth loosens their hold on Scott’s shoulders, turning towards wherever Jimmy is, and Scott’s gets a rush of determination. He can’t let them hurt Jimmy.

Scott backhands them across the face, kicking his way free of their hold with strength he didn’t know he still had. They give a tiny yelp of surprise, a familiar sound, and he staggers to his feet.

This time, he doesn’t bother with the axe. Instead, he forces his will into Vilya, praying to any and every god that it will work for him. He doesn’t even believe in the elven gods any longer, and yet he’s still praying to Aeor, to Varda, to Manwe, to any deity out there that he’s enough of a true elvenking to make a ring of power bend to his will.

“You are not welcome here!” Scott shouts, and he feels the ancient strength of Vilya behind his words.

Xornoth hisses, staggering backwards. “Fine! Banish me, then, if you’re a true enough king to do it. Run back to your mortal lover, Elinar, and pray to all the gods that he doesn’t ever see how worthless you really are.”

He doesn’t flinch, though it’s a close thing. “Leave! Leave and never return!”

This time, Vilya pulses more strongly, and Xornoth is forced out of Rivendell with a hum of power.

Scott stumbles as that rush of power leaves him, collapsing to the ground. His entire body aches from the fight, but more than that, Xornoth’s last words are still ringing in his mind. Pray to all the gods that he doesn’t ever see how worthless you really are. They’re right. He knows they’re right, and that’s the worst part about it.

“Scott! Scott!” He can hear Jimmy call, and within a minute, Jimmy’s standing in front of him.

Scott looks up at his husband- his beautiful, brave husband who he’s never once deserved- his breathing ragged as he tries to reach out. “Jimmy,” He manages, a hoarse whisper.

Jimmy kneels by him, concern written across his face clear as day. “What’s wrong? Where- what’s hurt? I’ll fix it, I promise, I-” Scott grabs him and yanks him into a hug, hardly daring to believe he’s real.

“Oh,” Jimmy says, quiet, dumbstruck. He hugs Scott oh-so-gently, though his embrace isn’t enough to soothe Scott’s trembling. “It’s alright, Scott, we’re alright.”

“Jimmy,” Scott gasps. He needs his husband, needs him to be okay. “Jimmy, I can’t.”

“I-”

“I want it to be over.” It sounds so childish, but he’s so tired. “I don’t want elves or nations or politics. I just want you.”

“I know, I know,” Jimmy soothes.

‘Why does it have to be me? It wasn’t supposed to be! It wasn’t supposed to be me!” Scott wants to shout it, scream it to the world, because it’s not fair. He wasn’t supposed to be heir to Rivendell. He wasn’t supposed to have a ring of power. He wasn’t supposed to be forced to fight his own sibling. It’s not fair, but it happened anyways. It happened anyways, and that’s what breaks him, voice cracking as he begs for something, though he doesn’t even know what he wants at this point. Peace, maybe. Happiness. “I- please- shouldn’t have- Jimmy. Jimmy .”

He repeats Jimmy’s name over and over, searching for any small scrap of comfort as his sobs tear him to pieces, clutched in his husband’s arms on the grass. Jimmy’s so gentle with him, his embrace so kind as he presses soft kisses to Scott’s head and murmurs in a comforting tone, though Scott’s too far lost in his own head to hear any of what Jimmy says. His world narrows to warm arms around him, the texture of Jimmy’s shirt clutched between his fingers. Jimmy smells like dirt and swamp water- it’s the silliest thing to notice when Scott’s busy sobbing over having to fight his own sibling, but it’s easier to think about than anything else. It’s easier to think about Jimmy than anything else, really, easier to cling to the sound of his voice and his hand on Scott’s back than confront the way Scott’s grief is eating him alive.

Distantly, he can hear footsteps approaching. They’re too light to be anything but elven, not that that’s a surprise when they’re in the home of the elves. He can’t bring himself to lift his head and face them, not when his breath is still coming quick and ragged.

Gilnar’s first to speak, hesitant concen leaking into their words. “Uh, milord?”

Scott can feel Jimmy’s grip tighten protectively, can practically imagine his affronted look as he opens his mouth to snap back. “Give him a goddamn minute! He just fought a demon for all of you, let the man rest! I know you’re all elves and you’re all- all elegant and composed or whatever, but you can’t expect someone to be perfect! We’re all human, you know!” He winces a little, knowing the elves are going to tear Jimmy to shreds for that.

Indeed, one of his advisors speaks up, disdain clear in their tone. “You are human, Codfather. We are not. Lord Smajor knew the responsibilities and difficulties of ruling.”

It’s ever the way of elven royalty- their rulers cannot dare be flawed.

“He’s too young for this,” Someone else mutters. There’s as much pity in their tone as there is disdain, a strange mix of concern and derision.

“I- well I don’t think anyone could have expected a demon! And probably even less people’d be willing to fight one!” Jimmy’s voice rises with every sentence. Scott wants to tell him to spare the outrage- he’s not worth it. “Scott’s one of the bravest, kindest, smartest people I know, so lay off him, will you?”

“You know nothing of the affairs of elves,” his advisor sniffs, and Scott’s blood boils at how rude they’re being to Jimmy.

It’s that outrage that gives him the energy to raise his head, forcing his breathing to steady out. “It’s fine, Jimmy. They are correct, I do have responsibilities.” You shouldn’t be defending me, he doesn’t say. I’m not worth your outrage.

“They can’t expect you to be perfect,” Jimmy argues back.

Scott almost laughs, knowing full well that they can and should. Instead, though, he breaks free of Jimmy’s embrace and gets to his feet with far more effort than that should really take. “Gilnar, get the village out of lockdown and make sure people are aware of the threat of Xornoth. Celebear, search the library for any books on corruption of elves, and Lauriel, translate any you find that are not Sindarin into it. Elder council, I need research done on any rings of power that are strong enough to counteract Vilya to that degree, that will narrow down what Xornoth has.” His voice comes out hoarse, and he’s barely aware of what he’s saying, but he forces himself to carry on. “Now, the Codfather and I need to negotiate wool and fish trades,” Scott adds, the quickest excuse he can think of. He grabs Jimmy’s hand, dragging him away as quickly as he can manage, and ignores the stares that follow him.

They make it up the hill and into Scott’s house before Scott’s legs give out, sending him into a chair with an undignified thump. “Well, fuck me to the End and back.”

“Are they always like that?” Jimmy sounds more concerned than anything.

“Pretty much. Gilnar’s okay, just tough as shit, and so are Celebear and Lauriel, but...I wasn’t- well, I wasn’t meant to inherit Rivendell, and the Council of Elders takes every opportunity to remind me of that fact.” That’s just how it is- he doesn’t bother getting upset over it at this point. He’s always going to be second-best.

“Oh.” Jimmy hesitates, and then asks “Who’s Xornoth?”

Scott would be lying if he said he wasn’t terrified of Jimmy’s reaction, but he has nothing left to lose, so he laughs bitterly and answers honestly. “My twin, also known as the demon that’s been terrorizing you.”

“What?”

“My twin. My older sibling.” He gives another little laugh. “The person who was supposed to inherit the throne of the elves.” Who was better than Scott in every way.

“What?” Jimmy sounds shocked and confused, but not angry, not yet, so Scott elaborates.

“Let me start from the beginning. My parents were two elven monarchs, one of the Sindar, and one of the Noldor. With other bloodlines mixed in, but the Sindar and Noldor is the important bit since those two groups haven’t always gotten along. Somewhere around fifty-five years ago, they started trying for kids. What they didn’t expect was that Xornoth and I are identical twins, only the fifth set of elven twins ever recorded.” Old legend says that elven twins are only born in times of great conflict, and Scott can’t exactly say it's wrong.

“Whoa.”

“Mhm. Xornoth was- is- technically the older one, who was always set to inherit the throne of the elves and unite our divided people. They were compared to Elrond, wise and powerful leader of another land named Rivendell far in the past, and I was Elros, his twin. Impulsive, snarky, human.” Scott spits the word a bit like a curse, not because he hates humans, but because he hates himself and all the ways he’s too much like them. He closes his eyes against a fresh set of tears, blinking away the memory of Xornoth’s face when he left Rivendell. “Our parents died when we were both quite young, and we were brought up expecting Xornoth to take the throne as soon as they came of age. I spent my time hanging out with mortals, instead, getting involved in things like mcc and 3rd life.”

“Ohhh,” Jimmy says intelligently. It’s such a Jimmy way to react to something so serious, Scott might laugh if the mood were lighter.

“When I was the elven equivalent of seventeen or so, Xornoth gave me a ring. This ring, specifically.” Scott taps the ring that’s still resting on his middle finger, feeling it hum in return. “Vilya, an elven ring of power. They told me to leave Rivendell and not return.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t know at the time, but they were being corrupted by a ring of their own, not to mention their own desire for power.” Scott feels Jimmy take his hand, and looks up to see gentle concern written across his husband’s face. He has to blink again, turning away and forcing his voice to stay steady. “I returned after coming of age while away to find that Xornoth had fled and I was now the heir of Rivendell. Which absolutely no one wanted.”

“Why not? You’re amazing!” Jimmy protests. He sounds so very sincere about it, which makes it all the more heartbreaking how utterly wrong he is.

“Remember when I told you that I’m not a very elven elf? That. I’m too human for their tastes, spend too much of my time with humans.”

“Well, I think you’re wonderful.”

Scott squeezes his hand tight, letting a little of his fondness show. “Thank you, Jimmy. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Something like confusion flashes across Jimmy’s face, and then he opens his mouth again. “Wait. Scott?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Did you give me an elven ring of power for an engagement ring?”

Scott looks away again, his cheeks heating up. “….Maybe.”

“Me! You gave me, little old Jimmy Solidarity, an elven ring of power?” JImmy’s half-laughing, but the sentiment behind the words sounds real. Too real, Scott thinks; it’s as if Jimmy doesn’t know just how incredible he truly is.

“You’re the most precious thing in my life,” Scott tells him, and he means every word. “I gave you everything I could offer.”

It’s kind of adorable how quickly Jimmy flushes, his face going red and his voice rising an octave. “Stop that!”

“Stop what?” Scott asks- perfectly innocently, mind you.

“Saying that stuff and giving me that look, you know what I mean!” He definitely doesn’t. “That soft one that- that makes me all blushy and stuttery!” Jimmy adds, and Scott grins a little. Jimmy’s just too fun to fluster.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he denies, though he’s sure his smile is giving him away as less innocent than he claims.

“I’m trying to scold you for giving me a ring of power that’s super important, stop- stop flirting, for goodness sake!”

“You’re hot when you’re flustered, though.” Scott barely restrains a yawn from slipping into his voice, trying to wipe some of the blood off his face so it’ll stop getting in his eyes.

“Let me get that,” Jimmy offers. Scott’s too tired to protest his fussing, letting Jimmy dab at the cut with a wet rag and bandage it. Jimmy moves on to cleaning out smaller cuts and scrapes, then the bruises, handing Scott some ice to put on the largest ones. It’s sweet, really, how fussed he is over even the smallest injury. Scott doesn’t think he deserves Jimmy taking care of him this gently, but he can’t bring himself to push him away.

Even if it is a bit annoying that Jimmy’s making him do math to check if he has a concussion. “Ninety-two, ninety-one, I swear I’m fine, Jimmy,” Scott huffs, “Ninety, eighty-nine, eighty-eight, eighty-seven, I literally explained elven rings of power to you, eighty-six, eight-five, can I stop counting now?”

“No.”

“Jimmyyyyyyyy.” Scott must sound like a whiny child, but he’s tired.

“Just a bit more? For me?” Jimmy asks. And oh, that bastard, he’s giving Scott the face that Scott can’t ever say no to. Bastard. Absolute bastard. Scott won’t give in, he won’t.

That determination lasts all of ten seconds before Scott sighs and gives in. “Fine. Eighty-four, eighty-three, eighty-two…”

Jimmy makes him count all the way down to seventy and then multiply together thirteen and twelve, which Scott doesn’t hesitate to whine about

“I can’t believe my own husband made me do math.”

Jimmy’s laughter is worth every second of the math, actually, Scott decides as his husband bops him on the nose. “I’ll make breakfast to make up for it?”

“You better!” Scott tells him. He’s trying to sound affronted, but it just comes out fond, much to his exasperation.

Jimmy laughs again and sets about making pancake batter, which Scott doesn’t hesitate to steal bits of even when Jimmy scolds him for it. It’s peaceful, being able to lean back in his chair and laugh when his husband tries to scold him for flirting. The morning light streams in through his window, casting the side of Jimmy’s face in a golden glow, He looks so alive silhouetted like that, a grin splitting his face and bits of flour in his hair. Scott’s breath catches for a minute just looking at him, the familiar ache in his chest returning, though there’s nothing truly tragic about the scene before him.

He shakes that off when Jimmy offers him the first pancake, shoving thoughts of the future aside. For now, he’ll drink hot chocolate in a sunlit kitchen and pretend his hands don’t tremble just enough to nearly spill it. He’s not going to think about the cuts and bruises scattered across his body, not when Jimmy is looking at him like that, with such utter adoration that Scott can barely believe his luck. How did he get a husband so sweet and warm when he’s as bitterly cold as a Rivendell winter? But whether he deserves it or not, Jimmy’s right there laughing along with him, and Scott can’t find it in himself to be unhappy about it.

This won’t last, he thinks as he watches Jimmy try to fit an entire pancake in his mouth just to see if he can. If Jimmy doesn’t die to his own idiocy or the cruel will of Xornoth, time will take him from Scott as surely as the stars shine above Rivendell. Scott is not Luthien or Idril or Arwen, the elven royals lucky enough to spend the rest of eternity with their mortal husbands; Jimmy will die, likely sooner rather than later, and Scott will be alone with the cold weight of a crown to bear and no sunshine to warm him.

This won’t last, but Scott says nothing of it, sipping his hot chocolate and smiling a little sadly into the mug as Jimmy rambles about different types of fish and their personalities. And if his hands are still cold, and he can’t stop a small shiver? Well, Rivendell has always been a cold empire, hasn’t it?

#scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #elf ocs #empires smp #flower husbands

[akemiiiii]

Like waves crashing.

[before anything else, i know i only put my art here, but I do write from time to time hehe, so I'm sharing this one with you all, much love! I hope you enjoy it!]

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“What the fuck?”

The first thing that Iwaizumi registers in his sleep-addled mind is that the bed is too soft. It did not feel like the firm mattress he always sleeps on in his apartment.

The second thing he registers is the soft scent of bergamot and pine which reminds him of Oikawa.

Which was definitely weird because Oikawa isn’t anywhere remotely near him at the moment, in fact, he clearly remembers he was 6 thousand miles away.

His eyes open to see a white ceiling, a grey duvet cover, and the king-sized bed he was currently on.

”What the fuck?”

Iwaizumi was thoroughly confused. He doesn’t remember anything that would sufficiently explain where he was.

The last thing he does remember was his sleep-deprived thoughts of missing Tooru because they’d yet to see each other for a year now and a pixelated face on a screen does not count.

And now here he is on a soft mattress that does wonders for his body, a room he does not recognize, and a scent that reminds him so much of his best friend.

“Did I die from missing Tooru so much?” Iwa anxiously gets up from the bed and heads to what he assumes is the cabinet. Right now, the idea of lying half-naked on a stranger’s bed did not seem appealing.

The thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth for reasons unknown to him. But as Iwaizumi scrambles to open the cabinet, his sight lands on two very conspicuous shirts.

Hanging isolated on the right end of the closet was a black shirt that housed a small Japanese flag right above where a heart would be when worn. Besides the black shirt is a blue jersey, a huge ‘13’ smack right in the middle with an Argentine flag on the corner.

For the 3rd time that day, Iwaizumi curses.

Was Tooru already 1st string on his team? Was he already playing for Argentina? Wait, no, that’d be impossible Tooru would have to be an Argentine citizen for that ti happen.

Thoughts beeline in his brain, too fast for him to process. While Iwa was trying to understand what he was seeing, voices past the door of the room catch his attention.

Iwa stands still, eyes wide, fearing he’d be caught. Any hopes of these people leaving burn to dust as the knob turns slightly.

Then his eyes meet the soft brown burned and buried into his heart.

“Tooru?” Iwaizumi doesn’t take notice of the fact that Oikawa’s taller, bulkier, and more tanned. He was too happy to finally see his best friend after a year of not having him near that he barrels past the unfamiliar room to crush said man into a fierce hug.

“...Iwa-chan?” Oikawa squeaks out

“Tooru! Gods, I missed your stupid face, how are you here? Why are you here?” at this Iwa moves back to glare at the man “You better not have skipped out on your practices dumbass, you know better than to…”

“What the fuck?” The fourth curse surprisingly does not come from Iwaizumi. Well, not from the one who just bear-hugged Oikawa.

Iwa’s eyes move from Oikawa’s wide-blown eyes, past his shoulder, to see his own face staring back at him. A more muscled, more robust, maybe slightly taller version of himself.

Iwa curses for the fifth time.

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

“Wait, wait, wait, you mean to say it is currently 2024?” Iwaizumi asks this supposedly adult Tooru.

“Yeah! We’re like, 30 now, Iwa-chan!” For the most part, Tooru looks extremely amused at what was happening that he couldn’t stop looking back and forth between the younger Iwa and the older.

“Damn, Iwa-chan, look at all the wrinkles you’ve accumulated, I told you all that scowling was gonna stay.” Oikawa chatters on excitedly

“Shut up ‘kawa” On the other hand, Iwa’s older counterpart now looks on calmly, as if this mind-blowing event was a normal part of his everyday life.

“Wait, you said we’re in Japan? And we’re...living together?? What about Argentina? Did you come back to Japan after all? But that wouldn’t explain the jersey…” There was so much Iwa wanted to ask about, but these were his topmost concerns.

“Hmmm, how much am I allowed to say? Will this affect the past? How did you even get here?” Oikawa directs the first 2 questions to the Iwaizumi closer to him (the adult one) and directs the last one to the Iwa sitting in front of them.

“I suppose you can say the condition we’re in now. But not the major ones.” The adult Iwaizumi offers

“But Iwa-chan! How am I supposed to know which ones are ‘major’ ones?!” Oikawa whines out, dramatically air quoting his statement.

The older Iwa heaves a sigh and faces his counterpart, “Yeah, we’re living together, we’re in Japan, as for Argentina, you’ll know in time.”

“...Huh.” Younger Iwa just huffs at that, but living together wasn’t really a big issue, in the back of his mind, Iwa thinks he knew all along that they would end up like that anyway.

Living with your best friend doesn’t really pose any much problem for him, plus he’d get to spend the days with Oikawa at his side and take care of his dumbass, so it’d be a win-win.

Younger Iwa still doesn’t realize why exactly he was very much pleased with the information that he and Oikawa living together was a great thing.

“Wait, I wanna know how old you are though Iwa-chan, you look almost the same as I remember when we were high school, but with major eye-bags.” Oikawa shifts closer, and younger Iwa stares at the freckles prominent on his face, the wide smile, and something in him clicks.

The one difference that he couldn’t pin, the one thing that made him believe that this Tooru really wasn’t his Tooru. This Tooru exuded happiness. Exuded contentedness.

He must’ve stared too long because Oikawa’s clearing of the throat makes snaps him out of whatever he was trying to comprehend.

“..Ah. well you aren’t exactly wrong, its been a year or so after we graduated as seniors. I’m at the end of the 2nd sem of college,” Iwa explains

“Holy fuck, that’d make you 19, ah youth! You’re so young let me pinch your cheeks!” Oikawa doesn’t wait for the go before both hands grab at younger Iwa’s chubby cheeks.

“Ha-ji-me~~ your baby fats are all still here! How wonderful!”

The sudden use of first name leaves Iwa blushing in Oikawa’s hands, panicked eyes seek help from the man beside Oikawa but adult him just laughed at his plight.

“Oi, ‘Kawa stop, he’ll combust.”

“You mean, you’ll combust?” Oikawa turns his head to face his Iwaizumi and wiggles his eyebrows. Younger Iwa doesn’t miss the gleam of affection that passes his eyes, and suddenly he is very aware of the lack of insults these two were trading.

If they were them, in the future, surely they’d have the same amount of banter he and Oikawa have, right? the roughhousing and all that, right?

But the only thing Iwa sees are casual touches here and there.

Like a switch, Iwa realizes a lot of things.

The apartment seemed to only have one master bedroom. In that room was a king-sized bed. With two pillows. The closet seems to house both of their clothes.

Oikawa was leaning into adult Iwa’s space more than the usual Oikawa would have been to younger Iwa.

There was a lot of gentle and almost, Iwa daresay, loving affectionate stares the two in front of him kept having in this hour alone.

And the most glaring, most shocking, most unbelievable thing Iwa has finally, finally noticed: The shining, demanding gleam of two matching rings.

“Are you married?” Iwa blurts out, the need to know suddenly engulfing him in ways he can’t fathom. How? Why? Since when?

The two in front of him exchange glances. And as an answer, both lace their fingers together. It is the older him that speaks softly, “Yeah.”

The word silences him. Once again, thoughts swim in his mind furiously crashing back and forth like waves.

How? Did he actually love Tooru all this time or did he come to fall in love with him? Was it when they were separated??

Why? Was this a need or a want or a what? What exactly could be the reason that they’d end up married???

Since when? When did they fall in love, when did they decide on marriage, when did they realize that the other was the one person they wanted to spend their entire lives with?

Iwa’s mind was a mess, but honestly, he knew every answer. He was probably in love with his best friend. No, not probably. Definitely. He started the moment they met and never stopped.

He loved Tooru. Loved his stupid collection of alien merch, loved the way his eyes lit up when they were on call, loved the way he took the spot next to Iwa as if that was where he was always supposed to be.

Iwaizumi loved and hated the way he was separated from Tooru, because of the space it left and because of the growth it pushed in them.

In the back of his mind, Iwaizumi hoped, wished, and knew that whatever their future may be, he’d always be beside Tooru, even if they were physically apart.

He’d known for years now that his future would have been with Tooru because the only future he pictured himself happy was with Tooru.

Fuck, he was in love with his best friend.

“Holy shit.” Iwa breathes out.

“Yep. Hard to swallow that you’re in love with this ass right?” Older him chuckles out, nudging Oikawa’s shoulder

“Hey! I’m a fine piece of ass. You’re lucky enough you got me!” Oikawa shoves back, the smile evident behind his pouting face.

“I really am.” The casual confidence in which his adult self replies to this is another blow to Iwa.

He fell in love with his best friend.

He gets to live with his best friend.

He gets to marry his best friend.

He gets to spend the rest of his life loving the person who has always made his soul feel alive.

“I love that I’m getting to see firsthand your reaction to realizing you’re in love with me.” Oikawa pinches the younger Iwa’s cheek with his free hand, and all pleasant thoughts of Tooru fly away, getting replaced with irritation at his smug smile.

“Well, knowing me, you have no other option but to fall in love with me Iwa-chan. I mean really, did you really think you’d get rid of me that easily?? My bi realization happened in junior high, you shit!”

Oikawa’s hold on his cheek strengthens, as he forcefully wiggles Iwa’s face right and left. Adult Iwa was apparently finding it amusing.

“Like what the hell! You were up in my room all shirtless in summer when it’s hot! And sweat!! And you had the fucking gall to play wrestle me without even knowing the internal turmoil I was having!”

Oikawa finally lets go of his abused cheeks, it was probably beet red from the amount of force he used to pinch, but also because of the words Oikawa was spewing.

“To be fair, ‘kawa, you liked the play wrestles because you said it gave you a reason to touch the developing muscles I had.” adult Iwa smooths over.

“It was still unfair because up until we were seniors I was literally dropping hints left and right and the entire fuckin’ team knew, and you were still there being the slowest idiot I have ever encountered in my life. Even your parents knew, how slow can you be Iwa-chan?”

Oikawa’s glare was directed at older Iwa, but it could have also been aimed at him from the amount of mortification he had. So that was why Oikawa loved holding hands when going home back then.

“Ah, the sweet taste of knowing the exact moment you realized you love me. Can’t believe it took for you to meet the future us to fucken know. Iwa-chan, you a rare breed.” Oikawa winks at him.

Older Iwa snorts, “Oh my god, never use that phrase again Tooru, what the fuck” He shoves him playfully, while Oikawa just wiggles his eyebrow back at him, prompting older Iwa’s fuller laugh.

And seeing this domestic scene in front of him somehow calms Iwaizumi enough to the point that everything in the world rearranges itself because he has found the answer that settles his very core.

“Ah. Times up.” Older Iwa says, looking straight at him. He dons a secretive smile, and for some reason, Iwa understands that he’s probably going to go back to the past now.

“Wait, last thing, are we happy? together?” Iwa frantically asks. Because no matter how he wants what this future paints, he wants what makes Oikawa happiest the most.

Adult Oikawa moves closer to him, leaving a lingering kiss on his forehead. “Ah, my Iwa-chan, I was never, will never be not happy when I’m with you. Now off you go! Don’t make things too hard for me, ‘kay?”

A last caress is what Iwa feels before he wakes up back in his shitty apartment with clustered notes and dirty laundry. It was currently afternoon, which means Tooru would be lounging in his own bed, probably reading.

Iwaizumi picks up his phone to ring him immediately. It’s answered in less than a minute, and the fluffy cocoon blanket of Tooru is what greets him first, before the scrunched-up nose of his best friend.

“You’re late Iwa-chan! Did you forget about lil’ ol’ me?” He pouts, and even though he was just with Tooru a second ago, he missed this Tooru still.

“Never. Hey Tooru.” The first name surprises Tooru, a blush rising, and before he would’ve just waved that off, but now that Iwa knows what he knows, he can easily see the pleased and happy gleam Tooru feels.

“Hey Hajime. So, how was your day?”

Iwa opens his mouth to tell him what he had just experienced, but adult Oikawa’s last words ring in his mind. It wouldn’t be fun at all if Hajime makes it known that he knows Tooru likes him, and him vice versa would it?

He closes his mouth and hides a grin. Nope. Not fun at all. Guess he’ll let things flow for now and keep Tooru at his feet. Someones gotta have to, right?

“Nothing much, I just woke up late, anyways tell me that gossip you had with your Abuela.”

“Oh yeah!! Iwa-chan you won’t believe what's happened, Juan’s partner got…”

Really, Iwaizumi muses that he should have realized long ago that he can’t imagine anybody else’s voice filling up his days in the future.

[Ok omg, tell me what you think, I know there're probably a lot of errors in grammar, hshshs, i'm still trying to get a hang of writing :D, I really hope you enjoyed reading this !!]

#iwaoi #iwaoi fanfiction #iwaoi drabble #iwaoi headcanon #hajime iwaizumi #tooru oikawa #iwaizumi fluff #oikawa fluff

[wordsfromthesol]

Invisible (1/3)

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Damian Wayne x Twin!Reader Summary:  Your decision to not become a vigilante made you invisible to your family. You finally broke down and called Diana for some advice. Warnings:  Actually…I think none… Word Count: 970 Requested: @soukouloutsouu

Part Two   Part Three

You thought it would be different when you left the league, that you wouldn’t be so invisible. Granddaughter of the demon meant nothing when your twin was a boy and 5 minutes older. Yeah, you still got trained in all the same ways, but your successes didn’t matter. The other good thing of your invisibility was that your failures were also often overlooked.

When you and Damian got dropped off at the illustrious Wayne Manor, you were so excited to meet your father. And things were good, for a little bit. Then Bruce gave you a choice: to work alongside him as a vigilante or not. Damian chose to become Robin. You chose to try and construct a normal life for yourself. You were tired of being in Damian’s shadow and you knew a vigilante life would put you right back in that spot. What you didn’t expect was by choosing a normal life you would be forgotten all together.

It had been a few years and you learned to live with it. After all, at least you weren’t living on the street, right…Well today was the last straw. You had just gotten accepted into Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) and every time you tried to share the news with anyone in your family, they seemed to shrug it off and saunter back into the Batcave. You weren’t even sure any of them had actually heard you. You wandered out to the garden, mindlessly scrolling on your phone. Suddenly, a picture of you and Diana came up on your feed…it was taken exactly five years ago today. Without thinking you pulled up her contact and pressed the green phone looming in the corner.

“Y/N, has something happened?” Her modulated voice rang through the speaker.

“No…no, everything’s –” You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence, because everything was in fact not fine. “I just needed someone to talk to.”

“Where’s Bruce gone?”

“He’s just…he’s busy.”

“And I presume your brothers are far to busy to lend an ear as well.” You nodded in response, momentarily forgetting this was a phone call. Diana continued, realizing the situation without your edification. “I think I actually have some business to attend to in Gotham. Are you available tonight? Then we may discuss these matters in person.”

“Yeah! Yeah that would be great!” Your brain did not register the excitement in your voice, but Diana did not miss it.

“Perfect. I shall be there at 6.”

**

Your mind went rampant as you waited for 6 o’clock. What were you going to say to her? What was she going to say to you? Your eyes shot to the clock, as you heard a knock at the front door. 5:50pm. You raced down the stairs, beating even Alfred to the door. Swinging it open, you saw the statuesque figure standing before you. Diana wasted no time.

“Y/N!” She stepped in the door, enveloping you in a hug. “It is so good to see you my dear.” Once she released you, she continued. “Now, it seemed like you had something important to discuss.”

“I – Well I –” You couldn’t seem to force the words from your lips, so instead you grabbed her wrist and dragged her to your room. She stood there quiet as you rummaged through the papers on your desk, selecting the acceptance letter. You held up the paper, “It’s MIT. They want me! I didn’t ever think I could get into a place like this. And they want me!”

A smile graced her features as her arms circled you once more. “Well how could they not! You are intelligent and strong and beautiful. Inside and out.” You didn’t understand how she could be so confident about your personality, when you thought it more lackluster. You strolled over to your bed, the happiness in your features faltering.

“What if…” You looked around the room as Diana joined you on the bed. Suddenly, you were hyperaware of everything. You realized anyone could pass by your door, anyone could hear you. In your next phrase you switched to Greek. “What if they made a mistake? Surely I’m not good enough for MIT.”

Diana, though confused at the switch in language, delivered her response in the same tongue. “Don’t be ridiculous. You worked hard for this. You deserve it.” Her hand fell on your knee, “What is this actually about?”

“I just…I’m invisible to everyone here. Just as I was at the League. I thought not being a vigilante would set me apart from Damian. It just threw me further into the shadows.”

Diana attempted to hide her anger, but she was never good at hiding her emotions. “Where is Bruce? Your brothers? Your sister?”

“Who knows…on a mission or patrol or pretending like I don’t exist.” She began to rise, but you grabbed for her hand. “Please, can we just talk? About anything.”

Diana realized she would have to save her scolding for later, as now you just needed a companion. Hours had passed and the two of you still sat on the bed, gossiping about the world. You barely noticed when Damian opened the door.

“Sister, I believe you were attempting to –” His voice fell short as he looked up, registering the guest in the room. “Wait…why is Diana here? Has something occurred?”

“Just chatting with a friend, dear brother.”

“Friend?” Damian questioned your terminology.

“Yes. It seemed she was in need of one. However, I’m afraid it is time for me to go.”

You gave a sad but understanding smile. “Thank you.”

“I always have time to lend an ear to a friend.” She stepped out of your bedroom door, grabbing Damian by the arm on the way out. Her voice turned taut as her eyes pierced through Damian’s. “Where is Bruce?”

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