#had a lot of fun trying for a vague pack ground too!

[writeforfandoms]

Run Wild 4

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I apologize for the long wait on this one - between life stuff and the chapter fighting me, it's been longer than I intended. This is a nice long chapter though to help make up for it.

Things are going well and you're settling into the pack... and then the three of you get sent on a survival training refresher. Just the three of you. Alone in the woods. For three days. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

Warnings: Swearing, animal death (unspecified fish and birds), yearning, shifter behaviors, pack behaviors, allusions to sex and intimacy, brief mention of blood.

Word count: 3.6k

Horangi healed just fine from the gunshot. Of course he did. It didn’t even take long - less than a week. König did, in fact, fuss over him, which you got to witness a couple times. It was pretty funny, at least from the outside. 

But you did make a mental note not to get injured. You didn’t need someone fussing over you that way. 

You’d spent the morning and part of the afternoon doing other tasks, since you didn’t actually get to spend all your time with your pack. Which was fine. You’d been without a pack for a long time, you didn’t need one to function. 

But even so, once you were dismissed, you headed back to the pack room. You wanted to see if they were around, maybe pester Horangi into some pool time now that he was allowed to shift again. 

You paused outside the door. Something was different. Head tilted, you listened for anything unusual, but all was quiet, but for a very faint rumble. 

You poked just your head around the door. 

Horangi and König were on the bigass couch (a LoveSac, König had told you once), neither of them facing the door. You noted Horangi’s missing sunglasses first. Then the flash of König’s hair, auburn longer than you would have expected. 

Then the smell hit you. Even with the window open, it was easy for you to smell that they’d been intimate. 

You backed off immediately, unwilling to disturb whatever peaceful bubble the two had. 

You weren’t quite embarrassed - you hadn’t caught them in the middle of it, at least. And with your sense of smell, this was far from the first time you’d smelled this on someone. Friends. People you knew. 

(Looking back on it, you continued to be a little amazed you survived basic without anyone knowing you were a shifter.)

No, the most confusing part was that you weren’t vaguely grossed out. Far from it, really.

You wanted to investigate, nose around, see how this changed their normal scents. 

Nope. Nope nope nope. Not happening. You shook your head, hard, trying to knock the thoughts out too. 

You were absolutely not attracted to your two packmates. Nope. Not happening. 

You threw yourself at the obstacle course for a good hour, working to beat your record. It was a good distraction - you couldn’t just rely on muscle memory, you had to pay attention. 

It wasn’t until you had sprawled out on the ground, panting, trying to get your breath back enough to go shower, that anyone bothered you. 

“Have fun?” 

The semi-sarcastic question made you lift your head to look at Horangi, the alpha standing off to the side. His sunglasses were back on, was the first thing you noticed. 

“What’s up?” You asked instead of answering his question. You pushed yourself up to sitting, not quite willing to lay prone in front of him. Not after what you’d almost walked in on earlier. 

“We’ve got a refresher on wilderness survival,” Horangi drawled, voice flat. But he didn’t smell angry. Hm. “The three of us.”

Oh. Oh boy. Three or so days living in the wilderness with the two of them. 

This was definitely going to go wrong, somehow. 

“When are we leaving?” You’d have to pack up a few things. Not a lot, you usually weren’t allowed a lot, but still. 

“Tomorrow morning, 0800.” 

“Got it.” You pushed up to your feet, absently brushing dirt off yourself. “See you in the morning, sir.” 

Horangi nodded once. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you could feel his gaze on you, even as you turned away and headed inside. 

You resisted the urge to look back at him. 

Wilderness survival was honestly not hard. It wasn’t something you hated, either. You had done something similar with your dad many times.

Although when you’d done it with him, you’d both been shifted. It was a little easier to find natural shelter as a mink than as a human. 

This time, you had your two packmates with you, one on either side. The three of you got dropped in the middle of nowhere in a forest with a map, some basic supplies, and an exfil location. 

The first stretch of the hike was lovely. The weather was nice (for once), the sounds of the forest soothing, and even though you were walking with giants neither of them pushed the pace too hard. 

The sun was high in the sky by the time Horangi paused, consulting the map. You stayed back a bit, watching as König peered over the top of the alpha’s head at the map. 

You tipped your head back, enjoying the sunshine, the birds singing, the faint trickle of water…

Wait. Water?

Focused now, you turned a slow circle, trying to pinpoint where you heard the water coming from. You paused facing slightly away from Horangi and König. 

“I hear water,” you told the two of them, glancing over only to find them already watching you. You blinked, startled, and shifted your weight. 

“Lead on, then.” Horangi motioned you forward with a lazy wave of one hand. 

You eyed him for a moment, uncertain if he was being sincere or not. But he didn’t move, so you did. 

It was easy, picking a path through the forest. No major terrain changes, no gunfire to dodge. Just the peaceful noises around you… and your two packmates behind you. They were both quiet, impressively so considering how big they were (König moreso), but you could track them easily by sound alone, if you needed to. 

The sound of water grew louder until you paused at a stream. It wasn’t large, you could jump it if you wanted, but it was moving fast and clear. A good source of water was an excellent start. 

“This should empty into a lake,” Horangi said from behind you. “See if you can find it.”

You grinned over your shoulder at him and started walking parallel to the stream, moving a little faster with the lure of a lake. The light increased in intensity ahead of you, and you slowed right at the edge of the trees. 

The lake spread out in front of you, sunlight sparkling off the water. It was decent-sized, and looked deep. There were probably fish in there, and for a moment you longed to shuck your gear and jump in. 

It had been a long time since you’d gone fishing the proper way.

Reluctantly, you turned your back on the water to trot back to the other two. 

“Found the lake,” you told them, grinning. “It’s not far.”

Horangi nodded. “We’ll set up for the day there,” he agreed, nodding you forward again. 

Which meant fishing. Elated, you practically bounced back to the lake, ignoring the two of them behind you, both laughing. 

It didn’t take long to find a good camping spot, the two of them more than capable of setting up a temporary shelter for the three of you. (And it was for the three of you - when you mentioned finding a spot nearby, Horangi put his foot down and said it was better to stay together. You didn’t object. Pack cuddles sounded really nice.) 

You and König gathered tinder while the light was good, setting up a spot for a fire later. This part you really needed no help with - you’d done this enough. You had extra cotton balls and a fire starter in your bag for a reason, after all. 

“Dinner?” König asked, slanting a look at you that you could tell was amused, even with the hood still in the way.

You perked up, trying not to seem too desperate. “I could fish?” 

Horangi looked at you for a moment before he nodded once. You got the feeling he was amused, despite not being able to see his expression. 

You resisted the urge to buzz happily, instead trotting down closer to the lake. It took moments to pile your boots to one side, tossing your outer layers next to them, before you shifted and wriggled out of the rest of your clothes. 

The first dip into the water was perfect - a little cool (although your fur helped insulate you), clear, and beautiful. You spent a minute darting around, half searching for fish and half having fun. 

It had been far too long since you’d let yourself have fun like this. 

It didn’t take long to find fish, and you spent a few moments just watching them. The bigger fish were down near the bottom of the lake, which wasn’t too far, really. 

Three would probably do the job to feed you all. 

The first fish was the hardest. You had to remember how to grab it right to hang on and drag it out of the water. The fish, of course, didn’t make it easy. But you succeeded, even though the fish was bigger than you. 

You left it on the shore, far enough away from the water that it (probably) couldn’t flap itself back in, and dove back in to get the next fish. 

Except when you dragged this one up the shore, Horangi was handling the first fish, cleaning and prepping it. And it looked… not big in his hands. 

Hm. Maybe three wouldn’t be enough. 

“Leave it there,” Horangi said, gaze flitting to you. He’d removed his sunglasses at some point, letting you feel the full weight of his gaze.

You chittered at him, leaving the fish and diving back into the water.

But you didn’t stop at three fish. You caught two more, dragging the fifth fish up to Horangi before trotting away to shake yourself off at a polite distance. 

When you shifted back, you caught König looking at you from his spot by the fire. It was difficult to tell, between the distance and the fact that you were shoving yourself back into your clothes as fast as possible, but this look was… different. 

There was something different, anyway. Hell if you could pinpoint what. 

“Well done,” Horangi praised quietly, gaze flicking up to you before he picked up all the fish, which he’d cleaned. 

You fought down the urge to buzz. It didn’t translate as well when you were human, and it was weird. But you did wiggle, just a little, as you jogged after him to the fire to help cook. 

Sitting with the two of them while dinner cooked was… nice. Odd, but nice. They were both quiet by nature, which you didn’t mind. König kept giving you little looks, which you couldn’t decipher. But he didn’t say anything, so you figured it was just a him thing and left it alone. 

Horangi tested the first fish and deemed it edible, nodding to you. You picked one for yourself and settled in to eat, humming a little. This was nice. This was the kind of nice you could get used to.

Even though you shouldn’t. It wouldn’t be like this once the three of you finished this training. It would be back to the norm - eating by yourself in the mess, spending time with them in the pack room when you weren’t on duty. 

You shoved the thought down with your next bite of fish, swallowing hard. Focus on being hungry. That was safer. But you ate a little slower than the other two. They needed the extra fish. 

“Here.” König tore off a chunk of his second fish, putting it on your plate. 

“But–” You looked at him, eyes wide. 

Horangi clicked his tongue, and a second piece of fish got deposited on your plate. “Eat,” he ordered you. “We have plenty.”

A little chagrined and a little confused, you worked on the additional pieces. And. Okay. You knew they hadn’t meant it this way.

But they’d put their food on your plate. 

And your instincts were screaming, just a little. 

The rest of the night was quiet. König took your plates to wash, and you ended up lounging on your back by the fire, looking up at the stars twinkling through the treetops. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve done this.”

You frowned. You hadn’t meant to say that aloud. But… nothing catastrophic happened. Your packmates were both quiet, at least until Horangi sprawled out next to you. 

“Oh?” It was a gentle prod, but it was very much a prod. 

You pursed your lips, considering how to answer for a few moments. Then you sighed softly. “My parents used to take me out places like this. Wasn’t far off from what we’re doing, really.” 

Horangi chuffed softly. It sounded odd coming from a human throat but you still recognized it for acceptance. “Why did they stop?”

Your heart ached, and you shoved up to your feet. The stars held no appeal for you now. “That’s a story for another night.” You checked on the tarp for your shelter overnight, pushing your pack into a corner where it would keep dry. There wasn’t much else to do, really. 

So you shoved yourself into the corner next to your pack, curling up. That was as clear an indication that you weren’t going to talk as you could do. 

You didn’t manage to fall asleep until you felt Horangi and König settle down near you. 

You woke slowly, warmer than you'd expected to be. It got cold overnight out here, after all. But you weren't cold at all. 

A little confused, you patted around. Maybe one of them had given you an extra blanket? 

Your fingers met fur, warm and coarse. Hm. That was different. And nice. Nice and warm. 

Wait. Fur? 

Your eyes flew open and your breathing halted. You could see only part of an enormous bear curled around you and Horangi both. Horangi had his back to you, shoulders moving steadily with his breathing. 

Oh. Oh this was bad. First they put food on your plate, now this? Pack cuddles with one of them shifted, and the alpha trusting you with his back? 

Oh no. No no no. Nope. This was going to end so badly for you. 

You just needed to shove your feelings into a little box and stuff it away somewhere. That would work. You’d be fine. No problem. 

You tried to ease away from the two, only for König to rumble at you. The bear lifted his head to look at you, grumbling. 

“Hush,” you whispered, patting his fur. “Be right back.” 

He huffed at you but settled down again. This time he didn’t protest when you shuffled away, careful not to disturb Horangi. 

You moved a safe distance away before you sat, putting your head down in your hands. These two really needed to stop giving you mixed signals like this. 

Although, when you really thought about it… were they even mixed signals at this point? Or just signals you didn’t want to think about? 

You made a face at yourself and breathed in deep. Two more days of this and then it would be back to base. Back to business as usual. 

You could manage two more days.

One more deep breath, and you headed back to camp, the low light barely a problem for you. Sunlight was just peeking through the trees, the rest of the forest just waking up. 

Horangi was up when you got back to camp, and he simply nodded to you before breaking down camp. By the time the three of you were done and ready to move on, it was like you’d never been there at all. 

Horangi took the lead again, and you followed him while König took the rear. 

You were surprised again at how easy this was. The quiet between the three of you never felt strained. You never doubted that Horangi knew where you were going. König never snuck up behind you enough to spook you. 

If you wanted to be real honest with yourself… this was even better than camping with your parents had ever been. 

And not just because you were an adult and didn’t need to be watched all the time. 

These two were rapidly slipping under your skin, and you weren’t sure how you felt about that. 

Especially when you all stopped to set up camp again and Horangi said he’d hunt for the three of you. König settled next to you in front of the fire, his knee knocking into yours. 

“You know much of the plant life here?” 

You blinked at the out of the blue question and shrugged. “Not really,” you admitted. “If I don’t recognize it, I don’t touch it.” 

“Good.” König nudged you with his knee again. “Come with me.”

Confused but not quite willing to push, you stood and followed him away from the fire. He didn’t take you far, though, instead crouching next to a tree to show you a plant. And then another. And another.

Before you knew it, you were side by side with him, peering over plants and doing your best to remember which ones were which. 

It was surprisingly fun, actually. You’d never given plants this much thought, but with König? It was fun. 

Hopefully he wouldn’t quiz you, though. 

“Here.” König pointed to a berry bush. “Gather these.”

You started picking berries, doing your best to avoid the thorns. König moved away, though you could still see him in your peripheral vision as he checked on the fire and brought over a dish for you to set the berries on. 

“How’d you learn all this?” you asked, half-distracted, trying to reach a juicy looking berry without having your hands cut to ribbons. 

König was silent for a few moments, shifting his weight next to you. “I learned as a boy,” he settled on. You had a feeling there was more to it than that, but you certainly weren’t going to push. 

“What do you think Horangi is bringing back?” 

König snorted, shoulders relaxing again. “Birds,” he said softly. “He likes birds.” 

You filed that little piece of information away, just in case. “Good to know.” You made a face when a thorn caught the tip of your finger, blood beading up against your skin. 

König clucked softly, catching your hand in one of his before you could pull away. “Careful,” he rumbled, low and soothing. 

“I’m fine,” you dismissed, trying to tug your hand back. But König ignored you, lifting your hand to look at the cut himself more closely. 

“No more injuries,” he said, voice soft even as he met your gaze. “Ja?” 

“Okay,” you agreed, a little breathless.

His thumb smeared over the tiny cut, cleaning away your blood. He blinked and looked down between you, the vice around your chest relaxing somewhat. 

“Thanks.” You tried to keep your voice dry, to show you hadn’t really thought his fuss necessary. But you were just a little too breathy to make it stick. 

He hummed softly, a pleased rumbly little noise. But he didn’t move away, keeping hold of your hand. 

Until a twig snapped behind you. Then he leaned back a little, gaze lifting over your head to look. 

“Done already?” König stood, still holding your hand and pulling you up to your feet as well. You huffed at him. 

“Still have to clean them.” Horangi held up two birds. You had no idea what they actually were, but they were decent sized, and one of them was colorful. Probably the male. 

“I’ll help,” you volunteered, gently tugging your hand away from König. It had been a while since you’d had to clean and prep a bird, but you didn’t remember it being that hard.

You were wrong. It sucked. Mainly because plucking the damn things was awful. 

Horangi chuffed in amusement every time he caught you making faces at your assigned bird. Which was often. But he didn’t actually make fun of you, which was good. 

Dinner was quiet, though again not the uncomfortable kind of quiet. Just quiet. It was weird… but nice. 

You were getting entirely too comfortable with these two. Part of you insisted that was only right - they were pack, and you should be comfortable with pack. The rest of you screeched about protecting yourself first and that pack did not automatically mean trustworthy. 

Your head was a bit of a mess. 

This time, you didn’t run off to bed before them, and ended up between the two. Nobody was touching (that you could see or feel), but they’d still put you in the middle. Intentionally. With the sort of planned grace that came from working together often. 

It was odd. Kind of nice. Definitely confusing. 

You resolutely shoved it out of your mind for now, letting the steady breathing on both sides of you lull you to sleep. 

You woke again to warmth, and resisted the urge to cuddle back into fur. Instead you opened your eyes, breathing slowly, taking a few moments to orient yourself. 

Horangi blinked slowly at you, head turned towards you even as he reclined against König’s mass. “Finally awake?”

You blinked, feeling a little slow still, and warmed. “Sorry,” you mumbled, dropping your gaze. 

He huffed, tucking one finger under your chin to pull your head back up. “No apologies,” he murmured, low and warm. “You were cute all cuddled up.”

You warmed further, unable to duck your head because of his grip on you, and settled for dropping your gaze to the space between the two of you. 

Apparently deciding to have mercy, Horangi tapped his thumb twice against you chin before he released you, sitting up. “Let’s break down camp,” he ordered. “Get to exfil early.” 

You nodded wordlessly, rolling to your feet to assist with clean up. 

But the phantom feel of his finger under your chin, his thumb against your skin, didn’t leave you all day.

#run wild #shifter au #horangi x könig #horangi x reader x König

[runwithwolvcs]

Addicted To You

The Princess and The Wolf

wordcount: 1248

"well, well, well, look who it is." Sulli teased as she tapped Paul on the shoulder. She shouldn’t be surprised, she had spotted Jared first, then knew he couldn’t have been too far. The really do travel like a pack. Though she was disappointed she never received a text he was back in town.

“Sulli, what are you doing here?" A genuine confusion crossed his features.

"having fun," Sulli said vibrantly, putting her hand on his chest as she asked,  "want to have fun with me?"

"you’re drunk," Paul mused, watching as she apologized to a girl who had bumped into her.

"barely," She brooded. She wished she was blacked out on the dance floor, but the moody wolf caught her eye. Standing on her toes she whispered in his ear,  "missed you,"

"thats how i know you are drunk," He chuckled, “let me get you a taxi,"

She frowned, not understanding why he was acting the way he was. She did miss him. All the time, it felt like she was missing something and when she was with him, that feeling disappeared. Sulli figured out in Seattle that it was him.

"whats wrong?" The older man asked, sliding his arm around her waist to pull her closer as other people moved past them.

“Why are you so mean all the time?" She asked, her lip jutting out like a little kid. 

Pauls eyebrows furrowed at her question, “I didn’t do anything,"

“Nows not the time, Paul," A man she vaguely remembered said from behind him

“Back off," Paul snapped at the familiar man before turning back to her. He cupped her cheek, regaining her focus solely on him, “Hm?"

He didn’t get it.  Of course he didn’t. Sulli couldn’t help but sneer as she spoke, “I cant believe i was willing to give you a second chance,"

“Hey," He frowned, stroking her cheek softly. She could feel herself wavering, torn between wanted to forgive him or punch him. All from one little touch and his soft brown eyes. She wouldn’t let this go that easily, no fucking way.

Sulli pushed him off, “You said you were going to protect me."

“Sulli,” His eyes widened as he began to try and calm her down as her tone got louder, only to be cut off.

Sulli could practically feel the rage in her veins like she had when she saw him for the first time in ten years, “You never showed up. They called you and you never fucking came!”

“What are you talking about?” He asked, holding her shoulders to keep her from swaying back and forth.

“At the hospital. I told them you would believe me.” Sulli murmured quietly as tears filled her eyes. Her drunk mind bringing her back to when she was a little girl, fighting the nurses as she begged them to call Paul, or Sue. She had just broken her arm after being pushed down a flight of stairs by her foster dad, Larry, and it was her word against her foster parents. She knew Paul would believe and get her out of there but he never showed.

"take her home," Sam ordered, coming up from behind Paul, "now,"

"Sam," Paul started, his eyes hardening again.

"Go, Paul." Sam demanded, not backing down, "you’re too distracted and she’s drunk, it’s not safe."

Paul sighed and tugged her wrist roughly, “come on,"

"no,” Sulli fought back, digging her heels into the ground.

"I’m not asking," He nearly barked at her, only for her to cross her arms in defence. He couldn’t intimidate her. He sighed and before she knew it, she was thrown over his shoulder.

With a small shriek of surprise, she demanded, ”put me down!”

“Paul!” She yelled again as the breeze of fresh air hit her, causing her to wonder how he made it to the door and outside so quickly. 

The older man ignored her pleas and profanity as he promptly walked through the parking lot with her over his shoulder, only setting her down once they had reached what she assumed was his car. A old, beaten down Jeep. She remembered it from when she was little. 

"I’m gonna be sick," She warned before bolting to the bushes lining the car park. Paul wasn’t far behind her as she felt her hair being gathered and lifted from her shoulders and back. A soothing hand rubbing up and down her spine.

As she finished puking, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and stood up straight way to fast for her brains liking. The world around her was spinning causing her to stumble backwards and right into Paul who caught her by her waist, keeping her upright and on her feet.

"fuck, Sulli," He looked down at her with concerned eyes as she peered up at him.

"sorry," She mumbled as she let him lead her to his car. He opened the door for her and got her seated before she began to kick off her heels, “ I can just walk home.”

"no, hey, it’s okay." He reassured her as he knelt in front of where she sat with her legs dangling out of the passenger seat of his car, "you feel better? hm?"

She nodded, "are you mad at me?"

"no," He said as he swiped her hair from her face for her, "just worried,"

"you worry about me?" The younger girl asked teasingly. A childish grin on her face as she twisted her body to get a better look at the inside of his car. She had never been inside of it before, holding true to not wanting to be stuck in a moving vehicle with him. 

Paul muttered, “everyday for the past ten years,"

"why?" She asked curiously. He sure didn’t act like he was worried about her.

"because..." Paul let out a sigh, as if he was reluctantly telling her something,  "you’re my imprint."

"imprint." Sulli repeated.

“Yeah,”

A look of confusion crossed her face as she racked her brain for a definition of the word imprint. She could only come up with one and she doubted thats what he meant so, begrudgingly, she admitted, “I don’t know what that is.”

“I know.” He chuckled before mentioning, “Thats what we need to talk about. Is Kaycee working tonight?”

“Yeah,” She hummed absentmindedly.

“You’re staying with me tonight.” He told her, and from his tone she knew better than to argue. Besides, she didn’t want to be alone anyways, that was the whole reason she went out after work.

A small whine left the girls lips, “Only if rub my back like you did when I was little.”

“I’ll do anything for you, princess.” He murmured, sliding his palm across the length of her bare thigh. The little dress she wore exposed the entire length of her leg and as his hand reached near the hem, she put hers over top of his, holding it in place. The heat radiating from it warmed her body. She smiled at the pet name, remembering how she had, had a nightmare and he told her about a fairytale. Paul had completely made it up, telling her she was princess, and he was the wolf that was going to protect her. She didn’t need a prince because she was strong on her own, but the wolf would always be there to help.  If only that were true.

Sulli looked at him with an unamused look before she muttered, “I am a fucking princess.”

#paul lahote fanfic #paul lahote #paul lahote imagine #twilight wolf pack #paul lahote x oc #twilight wolves #twilight #paul lahote smut

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @theydraggedmein!

This turned out a lot sweeter (and not as sexy) as I was originally going for, but I had a lot of fun playing with this idea and I hope you like it! Happy Sterek-y Holidays!

*****

Inter-Pack Politics

The bullet takes Derek by surprise. One minute he’s trotting along the perimeter’s edge on a patrol that is more habit than necessity, and the next the forest’s calm evening is broken by a gunshot. 

Pain unlike anything he’s ever felt before brings Derek to his knees, blossoming around his side and searing into his bones.  He’s crying out in agony before he can stop himself, despite knowing that it will only help the attacker pinpoint his location.

He should be trying to get up. Or at least he should try to howl for his alpha. But it’s like his blood has become lava it’s so hot, and the only thing he can think about is getting away from the pain. All he manages to do is to writhe against the ground as black spots cloud his vision. 

His mom is going to be so pissed when his body turns up. He should have been paying more attention to his surroundings, not responding to texts in the group chat he shares with his friends. It’s a little too late to care about that now, but the fleeting thought still sends Derek spiraling into a well of guilt. Coupled with the pain, the affect is debilitating. 

Cold hands press against Derek’s cheeks drawing him back away from the darkness calling to him. Derek hadn’t even realized that he had closed his eyes, let alone that enough time had passed that someone might have found him. 

Fluttering his eyes open, it take more effort than he would like to focus on the person in front of him and even more effort to understand that the guy isn’t someone he recognizes. He’s saying something, which is a little out of the ordinary for a hunter, but Derek can’t make out the words. His side hurts so bad. It’s all he can focus on, which makes the darkness creeps back in. 

The guy smacks him, jolting him back to reality. His ears pop from the impact, just in time for him to hear the guy curse. “Shit, shit, shit.” Looking over his shoulder, he hollers at someone Derek can’t see, “I need a bullet! Now, Scott!” 

If he could talk, Derek would point out that he definitely doesn’t need another bullet. The one imbedded in Derek’s side is more than enough in his opinion. But he can’t talk so the point is really mute. 

Another guy stumbles into Derek’s line of sight. There’s something vaguely familiar about his uneven jaw line, but Derek can’t pull his thoughts together enough to recognize him. He holds a long silver bullet out to the guy still cradling the side of Derek’s face who accepts it and immediately brings it to his mouth. In a move that Derek doesn’t understand, he pulls the back off of the bullet, spits it away, and then pours the gunpowder into the wound on Derek’s side. 

Only then does Derek realize what’s going on. Wolfsbane. He’s been poisoned and this stranger is trying to heal him before it’s too late. 

Instead of asking for a lighter, the guy snaps and his pointer finger ignites. The fire is a light blue, and the glow casts a soft light over the man’s features making him look impish and beautiful. 

As he brings his finger closer to his side, Derek expects the hot, all consuming pain to return. Instead it’s like his body is dunked in ice. He can tell he’s screaming by the way his throat burns, but he can’t hear anything aside from the beating of his own heart. 

Time passes. Eventually Derek’s autonomous awareness returns. He can feel the ground he’s laying on, cool and hard and steady. He can wiggle his fingers and feel his abdomen relaxing as the pain fades. He’s tired, feels worn through, but the relief that washes over him when he opens his eyes and can see again is a nice balm. 

Both men are kneeling at his side. The familiar one looks like he’s one step away from chewing off his finger out of nerves. The other guy is grinning. 

“There he is,” he says around his smile, looking proud of himself for correctly curing Derek’s poisoning. “I told you, Scott. Easy-peasy.”

The other guy, Scott, groans. “Stiles, dude, this is so not the time. I thought I was going to have to bring his body back to his mother, and then she would have eaten me, and then the girls would have been pissed.” 

“Did you shoot me?” Derek asks. His voice is hoarse from his screaming. He sits up slowly, though Scott wraps a warm hand around his elbow to help steady him. 

Stiles snorts. “Of course. I shot you and then decided out of the goodness of my heart to save your life.”

“Stiles!”

“What? If he believes me and doesn’t see the hunter laying right there, that’s on him.”

Sure enough, six feet away a burly man lays face flat in the dirt. Derek definitely didn’t see him but he isn’t about to admit that to some random stranger. 

“Thank you,” he blurts out instead. “For saving me,” he adds after a moment, drawing the sentence out and sounding a bit like a robot.

If she were here, Erica would be cracking up. 

Stiles’ grin softens into something a little less feral. He’s-. Well he’s kind of pretty. But as his senses finally stabilize, it’s Scott who capture Derek’s attention. 

“Oh shit.” Shaking the hand that is still resting on his elbow off, Derek scoots himself back until he can breath a little easier. Now he knows why Scott looked so familiar. “Alpha McCall.” At the mention of his title, Scott’s eyes blaze red. 

He rubs at the back of his head looking sheepish as the color fades. “I would say it’s nice to meet you Beta Hale, but it would have been better under different circumstances.”

Curiously, Derek turns back to look at Stiles. He thinks about everything he’s overheard his mother say about the McCall pack. He knows that she’s mentioned a magic user, but he can’t quite remember what title he had. 

Stiles examines him back, quirking his eyebrow the longer Derek stares. And then he remembers. “That would make you Spark Stilinski then.”

The feral edge is back in his smile at being recognized. It’s almost hard to look at him when his eyes start glowing a deep purple, but not because Derek is intimidated. 

Gods, Erica would be howling. 

“Stiles and I need to get this guy back to town,” Scott says, gesturing at the hunter. “He’s not going to be out for long and I want to make sure he’s secure before anything else can happen. But then maybe after we should meet up so I can explain to your Alpha what happened?”

Derek knows that’s a good idea. Hell, he should probably call his mom now so they can meet right away and discuss what will happen to the hunter. Even if the McCall pack was hunting him, the hunter shot one of her members, and if Derek knows his mom he knows that she will want a say in what happens to him. But there’s something about the confident way Scott talks about securing the man that makes Derek nod his head. 

Plus, as more of his senses return to normal, Stiles’ scent is a heady thing that Derek needs a break from. 

He watches as Scott hoists the hunter over his shoulder and starts trekking back the way that they had come. Stiles winks at Derek before following after his Alpha. 

He looks back twice before the pair disappears from Derek’s view. 

Derek’s never ran back to his house faster.

—————

Talia takes a lot of pride in her position. The Hales have resided in Beacon Hills for decades, protecting the woods and those in the town. She thinks that she’s done a pretty damn good job leading her pack. 

She takes even more pride in her duty as a mother. Her children are her joy. Watching them grow up, seeing how they blossomed, nothing has been a better gift. And overall, Talia thinks that she’s done a pretty good job balancing being a mother and an Alpha.

When she hears her only son rushing back to the house after sending him out on the nightly patrol, her first thought is of the pack’s safety. She sets her book on the arm of her chair and goes to meet him, preparing for bad news. 

But when Derek gets close enough that she can smell him, rage has her shifting before she can find her control. Wolfsbane. On her son. Talia is ready to rage. 

Derek looks good despite the obvious signs of wolfsbane poisoning. He’s grubby and there are sticks in his hair, but he’s in one piece.

He also smells like another alpha werewolf.

“Derek! What happened?” She circles him, running the backs of her fingers over his neck to scent him. 

Derek allows the treatment. “I was on the East side of the border running patrol about to double back when, “ he swallows, “I was shot.”

Talia exhales through her nose, holding on to her composure. “Wolfsbane.” It isn’t a question. 

Derek nods anyway. At this point, Patrick has shown up. His typically soft eyes are ice cold as Derek recounts the affects of the poison. “Alpha McCall and his Spark apprehended the hunter. The Spark cured my poisoning. They took the hunter. Alpha McCall asked to meet afterwards to discuss the situation with you.”

Nostrils flaring, Talia reminds herself that Alpha McCall is young and doesn’t know the proper etiquette when dealing with another pack. They should have contacted her to discuss what to do with the hunter. Honestly, unless he had injured one of theirs, the hunter should have been given to her. Not to mention that communication should have been sent as soon as they were aware that a new hunter was in town. 

But that doesn’t matter, not really. Talia isn’t one of the stuffy Alphas who live too far in the past. She respects tradition, but she knows that as the times change they must adapt. Besides, she should have done more to build up the relationship between the Hale and McCall packs as soon as they settled in Beacon Hills. As the experienced Alpha, the responsibility fell to her to show Alpha McCall the ropes. Even though she helped some, there was far more that she could have done. 

So long as this meeting goes well, she vows to do better. Especially now that Scott McCall has saved her son. 

—————

Derek knows as soon as the convoy for the McCall pack is on its way. He had sequestered himself in the library after the meeting with his mother, tired from the events of the day. But when the sounds of an unfamiliar vehicle turning onto the little road leading to their house reaches him, Derek goes in search of his mother. 

He finds her standing on the porch. She’s changed into a dark pair of jeans paired with an emerald sweater, giving her a more regal and put together air than the lounge set she had been wearing when Derek returned to the house. 

His father stands at her side in a dark brown sweater and light jeans. Derek is surprised that Laura is absent. As the next Alpha heir, she normally attends all important meetings at Talia’s side. But aside from his parents, the rest of the pack is noticeably absent. 

That makes him question whether or not he too should go back inside. Before he can retreat, Talia smiles at him. “Derek, you’ll be with us. As the only witness to the events of this evening, I would like you to stay. Plus, you were the one who agreed to this meeting on my behalf. You are more than welcome.”

“But-. Laura?”

Talia laughs. “Your sister isn’t as practiced in keeping partial when it comes to her family. She was furious when we told her that Alpha McCall took the hunter back to town and was practically ready to go and find them herself before your father finally talked her down. She’s with Peter.” Derek knows that means that, even though they’re out of sight, they are both definitely close enough to hear this conversation, but he doesn’t point that out. 

“Okay.”

Carefully, Patrick ruffles Derek’s hair like he used to when he was just a boy. “Don’t worry, Derek. This is a friendly meeting. Nothing is going to happen.”

Derek hadn’t really been worried about that, heck Scott and Stiles seemed nice enough and they saved his life, but at his father’s words, he wonders. There isn’t a lot of time to worry though, before a small blue Prius pulls up beside Talia’s SUV. Four people exit the vehicle. Derek recognizes Scott and Stiles. The other passengers are older, probably parents if Derek had to guess. 

There’s something kind of sweet about Alpha McCall bringing them along. Sure he’s on the younger side for an alpha, but the title still belongs to him. Arriving with his family makes the meeting feel a lot more casual, and it shows his dedication to his family which is sure to win him points with Talia and Patrick. 

Scott approaches the porch first, stopping a polite distance away to incline his head at Talia before baring his throat. At his back, the other’s follow his example, but Derek can feel Stiles’ eyes on him like a brand. Heat races up Derek’s spine at the attention which makes him feel like a teenager again. 

Derek scowls. He would be lying if he said that he hadn’t noticed that Stiles had changed into a pair of tight slacks and a dark maroon button up, but this meeting was most definitely not about how attractive the Spark was. No matter how much his gaze feels like a caress, this is more important that that. 

“Welcome, Alpha McCall,” Talia says, voice light but formal. “It sounds like you’ve had quite an eventful evening. This is my mate Patrick, and you’ve already met my son Derek. Would you like to come inside?”

Scott smiles, crooked and endearing, and introduces his group. “Thank you, Alpha Hale. This is  my mother Melissa. Stiles is my Second as well as my Spark, and this is his father John. Thank you for having us.”

Talia’s demeanor softens at his words. She turns and leads them inside. Derek stays where he’s at, opting to fall in behind everyone. Stiles grins as he steps beside him on the porch. “Hey Derek.” Despite knowing that they’re in a house full of werewolves who will be able to hear the conversation no matter the volume, Stiles keeps his voice quiet. “How are you feeling?”

The question is innocent, but Derek can feel his ears heating with a blush. “Better. I-.” He clears his throat. “We should follow the others.”

Stiles raises his eyebrow, eyes gleaming in amusement, but doesn’t press. He turns and continues after their group, allowing Derek to step in behind them.

All things considered, the rest of the meeting is pretty dull. Scott explains how they stumbled upon the hunter on accident and chased him through the woods, hoping to catch him before anyone was hurt. He details how they took the hunter to Chris Argent, the father of one of his pack members and an ex-hunter, who promised to ‘take care of everything.’ Then Stiles steps in and explains the wards he would like to install around town that would act as an early alert system in case anymore unwanted hunters come into town. 

Talia agrees that it is a good idea, but asks that they let her contact her own Druid so that he can help make the wards, that way both packs are involved in their creation and upkeep. Stiles agrees, admitting that he would love to work with him. 

By the time they’re wrapping up the meeting, Derek isn’t sure why his presence was needed. They barely even talked to him, so he spent most of the discussion trying not to look at Stiles. Laura would have been a much better choice to have, even if she was pissed off. At least she was good at talking to people.

“There is one more thing,” Talia says as Scott and his pack are gathering to leave. “Because we share Beacon Hills, I think it is a wise idea to foster a friendly relationship between our packs.”

Patrick steps into the conversation perfectly. “We were thinking it might be nice to have a little BBQ and invite everyone along. The weather is still so nice, and there is a great park in town that would easily house everyone.”

John is all smiles. “That sounds like a great idea.” Scott agrees, and then it is as easy as picking a date to cement the idea.

Derek watches the car drive away when they finally leave, trying to decide if he’s imaging Stiles turned around in the seat to watch him through the rear window.

Laura and Peter appear on either side of him. Both of them are grinning wider than the Cheshire cat. “So,” Laura begins. 

“The McCall Spark?” Peter adds, drawing out each word.

“Wow little brother, you sure know how to pick them. Remind me, how long has it been since you went on a date?”

Derek turns his nose up at both of them. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Peter rubs a thumb across his bottom lip. “Should we ask Talia about dating between the packs?”

When Laura snorts, the sound is so undignified Derek almost laughs. And then he remembers that they are here making fun of him. Gods, sometimes he hates them both. Yes, Stiles is attractive. But that’s all it is. The jokes really on them. 

—————

The BBQ is going pretty well. The day turned out to be perfectly warm and sunny, a fact that Talia is taking as a sign that the relationship between the packs will good. John joined Patrick at the grill as soon as he pulled up. They both have a cold beer in their hands and they’re chatting like old friends. 

Melissa was having a decent conversation with Peter’s wife Mary until he joined them. Then the women teamed up against him and now they’re both sitting close together and laughing like the best of friends. 

Scott’s pack is an unusual one comprising of a banshee, a kitsune, the hunters daughter, 2 werewolves and a hell hound. Then, of course, there’s Stiles, who Derek is trying his best to ignore. Especially because one of Scott’s werewolves keeps leaning down to whisper in his ear. Derek can’t hear what they’re saying, but the blush on Stiles face says enough. 

Thus far, Derek’s kept his distance, sitting with Boyd and Cora on the sidelines and watching everyone mingle about. Considering the fact that Stiles is wearing gray skinny jeans and a form-fitting navy blue shirt, Derek thinks he’s doing very well. It helps that he’s not normally a chatty person. His sisters say that he’s growly, but he thinks they’re exaggerating. He doesn’t growl at people. At least, not al most of them.

Cora elbows him, jeering him from his thoughts. “Why does the Spark keep staring at you?”

Derek does everything he can not to look. “How do you know he’s not looking at you?”

She raises her eyebrows at him and her stare speaks volumes. 

“He’s the one that saved your life, right?” Boyd asks, trying to look over at Stiles and not make it obvious. It doesn’t really work, but Derek appreciates the attempt.

“Yeah. He burned the wolfsbane out of my system.”

“Romantic.” 

Derek groans. “Not you too, Cora. Come on, you’re supposed to be on my side!”

That actually makes her laugh. “Just because I’m sitting over here with you like a loser, that doesn’t mean that I’m on your side. Besides, Laura and Peter might have a point. You obviously want to talk to him, so why don’t you go over there?”

He resents that she’s calling him out. But the truth is, since the night in the woods, Derek hasn’t been able to get Stiles out of his head. That isn’t really a conversation he wants to have with his little sister though, mostly because she will tease the hell out of him about it.

“Cora has a point,” Boyd says like a traitor. He ignores Derek’s open mouthed disbelief and continues talking. “There’s obviously something going on there. He’s been practically staring you down all night, and I know you picked that seat for a reason.”

Cora jumps in. “Besides, when was the last time you actually put yourself out there? You could do a lot worse than a Spark. He’s definitely cute enough.”

Her words almost make Derek bare his teeth, but before he can get weirdly possessive about a stranger, the man standing with Stiles bends down and whispers in his ear again and the flight leaves Derek all at once. 

“That’s a pretty good reason to stay over here, don’t you think?” The words sound dramatic and miserable, even to him, but instead of mocking him Cora just hums in consideration. 

Then she grins. “You’re right, it definitely is. Come on Boyd, I need you over here.”

Confused, Derek watches as they both stand up and abandon him. Boyd pats him on the back twice, and then they’re gone. It isn’t until Derek turns back to look at Stiles that he realizes what’s happening.

Instead of standing clear across the park, Stiles is barely five feet away. Derek’s traitorous heart stutters, causing a few of the werewolves around to glance their way (including Peter who winks conspiratorially and frolics off to find Laura). 

As before, there is something about Stiles that is so alluring, be it his little upturned nose or the moles scattered across his pale skin or the way his scent is all lightning and ozone. Now that Derek’s not recovering from the affects of wolfsbane poisoning, his presence is even more captivating. 

Inexplicably Derek imagines biting at the pulsing vein in Stiles’ neck. He clenches his teeth instead. 

As though he could read where Derek’s thoughts went, Stiles’ grin is a feral thing. “Derek Hale,” Stiles says, moving closer until he’s right beside him. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Rolling his eyes, Derek scoffs, “Fancy seeing me at a BBQ my parents set up? Yes, how unusual.”

For a minute there is silence between them. Then Stiles snorts. “Oh man, you’re sassy. I couldn’t tell the last time we met.”

“The last time we met I was dying, so I feel like that might not have been the best introduction to judge my character.” Derek is going to add that he is not sassy, thank you very much, but Stiles' smile turns coy. 

“Oh? Luckily for me then that you’re all healed up. I definitely want to judge your character.”

That’s…such a bad line Derek actually raises his eyebrows in disbelief. Miraculously, his stare makes Stiles blush but he doesn’t take the words back. Instead he raises his eyebrows in a clear challenge that Derek accepts by offering Stiles the seat that Cora vacated. 

“How are the wards coming along?” Derek asks after an awkward moment where neither of them speaks. 

Stiles relaxes back into his chair looking genuinely excited that Derek brought it up. He launches into a overly-detailed description of ward work and weaving that goes well-over Derek’s head. But he listens in rapture just the same, asking questions to keep Stiles talking especially when he starts describing the little magic shop he opened in town that serves the supernaturally inclined. It’s fascinating. He’s fascinating and Derek is hooked.

Eventually, Stiles clears his throat and blushes again. “Sorry I-. I really like magic and most of my friends tune me out when I start in on it.”

Derek smiles and it’s easy to admit, “I liked listening to you. I might not have understood everything, but I can see how much you love what you do.”

“Being a Spark is-. Well, I assume it’s a little bit like being a werewolf. It’s so intrinsically tied to who I am, I can’t imagine not using magic. I actually-.” He stops talking suddenly and blinks at Derek in surprise. “You are not how I imagined you would be, Derek.”

Feeling uncomfortable with the sudden change in conversation, Derek crosses his arms. Stiles rushes to explain. “It’s not a bad thing. I just didn’t really expect you to indulge me.”

“You decided that after one meeting, during which I was recovering from poison?”

Stiles raises his hands and laughs, eyes gleaming gold in the fading evening light. “Okay, first of all it was two meetings. And I would like to remind you how you shut our conversation down when I tried to talk to you up the house. But no, I’ve been told you’re broody and aloof, and your eyebrows seem to speak their own language.” Derek’s not sure which part of that conversation to focus on. “I mean, Peter did say that you were a big softie but-.”

That is enough for Derek to cut him off. “Peter? My uncle Peter? When the hell did you two talk?” Having been casually watching Stiles all evening, he knows for a fact that Peter never got close enough to have a conversation with the Spark. 

Stiles shrugs. “He’s been by the shop a few times since the night we met.” Derek wonders if he can convince Mary to let him murder her husband. “He’s actually kind of funny, in a weird way. And he’s told me a lot about you so-.”

Derek groans. “I can’t believe he-. Actually, I can definitely believe that. I’m just surprised Laura wasn’t with him.” He clears his throat. “Can I ask what he told you about me?”

Stiles’ eyes seem to sparkle. He shifts closer, pressing their knees together in a very deliberate way. “Oh you know, just some little facts here and there. He did lead me to believe that you were a lot grumpier though.”

“I’m going to murder him.”

Stiles laughs. “As sexy as plotting murder is, maybe we can keep getting to know each other. Inter-pack politics and stuff, right?”

Derek almost asks if that’s what this is about, but then he catches sight of the werewolf from before watching them and closes himself off. “I’m not sure how he feels about that.”

Stiles’ face crinkles in confusion until he catches sight of the werewolf, who raises his eyebrows at Stiles. “Who, Jackson? Considering he’s the one who finally convinced me to come over here, I would say that he’s pretty damn happy about it.”

Frowning, Derek repeats, “He convinced you to come over here?” That pulls Stiles attention right back to him. Seeing his expression, Stiles reaches out and grips Derek’s knee.

“Hey, not like that. Now I can see why they say you’re broody. Jackson has appointed himself my personal wing man, so the fact that this is actually working. Well, let’s just say I am going to have to deal with his gloating for weeks.” It takes a long moment before the implication of those words hit Derek. 

“I-. You-.” He can feel his blush.

Noticing how red Derek’s ears are, Stiles eyes take on the faintest sheen of purple. “So,” he purrs, tightening his fingers around Derek’s knee, “inter-pack politics then?”

As Stiles draws him back into a conversation, Derek makes a mental note to ask his mom about what it will mean to date between the packs. Because as Stiles keeps his hand curled possessively on Derek’s knee while launching into a description of how he met Scott and became best friends, it seems a whole hell of a lot more relevant now. 

Not that he’ll ever admit that to Peter and Laura. Not in a million years.

#theydraggedmein #stereksanta23

[bbreaddog]

Tagged by @jmrothwell! 💕

Are you named after anyone?

I’m not entirely sure… I have a very vague memory of my mum telling me my English name came about bc it sounded similar to a Chinese singer… but I don’t trust my memory and I’m too afraid to ask again 😬

I don’t think I’m named after anyone re: my Chinese name. Digressing here but was recently reminded that it’s a typically masculine name and that made me feel something… my English name is quite feminine so…

Wondering how my parents came to that conclusion when naming me… wondering if they knew from the start that I had both masculine and feminine energy and needed my names to reflect that or something… much to think about

When was the last time you cried?

Last night 🥲

Do you have kids?

I don’t have my own, but sometimes I refer to my students as my kids. Not for sentimental reasons tho, it’s just easier to say less syllables 👍

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

No, not at all (deadpan) (lying) (so much)

Sometimes I will deliver things in a way where even I can’t tell whether I’m being sarcastic or not

What sports do you play/have played?

God, my school valued sports so much that I’ve probably tried every sport under the sun.

Ones I regularly trained in at school: tennis, basketball, softball, netball, table tennis, swimming

At uni (all dance genres): tap, jazz, ballet

I did yoga and Pilates for a bit after graduating, but I haven’t been able to do much physical activity the past two years for health reasons 🥲 I would so love to be able to do dance classes again. I really found my groove in third year uni about it and I miss that a lot

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Idk, their clothes I guess

What’s your eye colour?

Rich soil, calligrapher’s ink, a stargazer’s dream. The distance between our feet and the ground. The part of the ocean that lets no light because she loves us too much. The place in time that promises safety, protection, stability.

Endless, endless, and full of possibilities.

(Let me romanticise my black eyes, dammit)

Scary movies or happy ending?

Happy endings for SURE. I absolutely cannot do anything scary. I can’t even watch The Owl House bc the monsters in it look too scary 😭 I’ve been recommended it so many times by so many people, but I just cannot 😭😭😭

Any special talents?

Being naturally good with kids? I know I’m a teacher and this will sound really awful, but I………..don’t actually like kids. Obviously I still treat them with kindness and respect, and I can tolerate them enough to do my job properly. I can (and do) bond with them and form meaningful relationships with them. Takes a village to raise a child, and I’m part of the village, y’know?

Idk what it is, but kids just like me for some reason, without me having to really try. I find just being my usual sarcastic self who doesn’t hide when I’m pissed off is somehow very charming for kids

Jokes aside, it’s definitely a skill I’ve had to develop and refine, especially for teaching. But I’ve just been naturally good with kids since forever—I think being part of the eldest cousins pack in my family has helped a lot in that regard, bc most of my cousins are 8+ years younger than me. So, experience, I guess.

Where were you born?

In a hospital

What are your hobbies?

I am in dire need of new hobbies that aren’t physically taxing on my arm, but currently:

Drawing, reading, writing, baking, singing, playing violin or ukulele, sewing/patching

And this……is technically one of my jobs but I also just do it for fun: acting/scene/script analyses

Gif makers I am making out with you so hard bc i do so much acting analysis from watching individual gifs. IT’S JUST. SO GOOD. EVERY CHOICE IS DELIBERATE, and you can see that in a 2 second gif. You won’t believe how much you can take away from a fleeting, seemingly insignificant moment in a piece of cinema memorialised into a gif lovingly made by a passionate fan. Gifsets are arguably what got me into acting in the first place

So like obviously having a degree in acting means i am also just a huge huge nerd about scene/script analysis too, and it’s so TASTY being able to draw up a whole character profile, backstory, personality, objectives and obstacles, and so many more minute details. From like. A 3-word sentence spoken by a background character that never comes up again. IT’S SO GOOD. I could keep going on about this but this is also getting very long so I shall end it here

I JUST REALLY LOVE ACTING 😭

Do you have pets?

My dog :-) and 3 very perseverant fishies 💕

How tall are you?

Enough to reach the top of a door frame on my tippy toes

Favourite subject in school

Studio Art, but only bc my school cut the Drama dept while I was there :/ I did still really love Studio tho—maybe too much? Idk it definitely contributed to my arm issues bc I had to do a folio each for both Art and Studio Art (two diff subjects)

Dream job

No job. I do whatever I want. I heal whenever I need. I live free of capitalistic responsibilities. I live. I live. I live.

I tag (no pressure to do this): @noworneverphantom @fiddlepickdouglas @drifting-in-otter-space @badsalmonella

#mine #tag game #thanks for tagging <3 #it has been a day and an age since I’ve had any energy to do anything like this #I’ve taken the first week of term off this week bc i am still. having major major health issues. and it is not fun #it’s not relaxing if you’re thinking about what you could be doing is it? #yeah… it’s hard #re: last question ‘dream job’ <- if i absolutely had to choose it would be acting for sure #but between teaching and my health… it’s very rare that I’ll be able to do anything super meaningful career-wise in acting #I’ve turned down so many auditions to the point where my agent no longer gives me anything #maybe like one brief every 6 months now #it’s… sad. i love acting so much #but even if i quit teaching. it’s not a stable career. there’s no guarantee of a job #and it’s expensive being an actor #even more so being a disabled actor #and i like teaching. there’s a lot to gain from it. maybe not financially lol but personally. there’s a lot I’ve learnt that i can apply to #many other areas of life. including acting. so there’s that. #but teaching is not my forever job. i feel like. my health isn’t even cut out for teaching #I’ve had to take so many weeks off. i always feel guilty for leaving my kids when i do #it’s hard not to feel responsible for them even tho I’m only 30 minutes of their weekly schedule #there’s a lot to. unpack here. but we don’t have time for that #this is supposed to be a fun lil tag game but it’s 11:40pm so I’m shifting into unfiltered mode #alright well there’s that #this was legitimately fun to do tho even after all that #i love being tagged in things. even if i don’t get a chance to get to them #pls tag me in more things #<3 #personal

[isaac-morey]

Task 12 -- Background NPC: Write about a moment of your character’s life from the perspective of an NPC character.

TW: Reference to toxic relationships

The boxes were packed, stacked around the room and making a problem of themselves since he had to weave around them to reach the couch, all sticking up like the crooked teeth of tombstones in the small, otherwise cozy, colorful space.

Home sweet home, invaded by those offensive boxes so bland against the backdrop of everything else in the cheerful, mostly-magically decorated space.

Lacroix didn't like it, but he hadn't really been subtle about the opinion the past week and it felt like he wasn't gaining much ground in voicing it.

Not that it stopped him.

"Not to be that person," he mumbled, crashing onto the couch like a corpse, all gangly limbs hanging off the sides, or across the arm of the sofa since that's where his knees had ended up, toes of his boots not quite reaching the ground from where they dangled. "But, yeah, I'm that person; you sure this is a good idea?"

It hadn't been when Isaac had voiced it, Lacroix thought, all bubbly energy and excitement, it still wasn't now that the boxes were packed and the impending hour was upon them.

He was watching his best friend dig his own grave; which coincidentally wasn't that much fun when you really didn't want to see a train wreck if the wreck was your friend's emotional well being.

Isaac hadn't stopped scurrying around their apartment - soon to be his apartment he supposed - even when the question was voiced. There was just too much energy to be contained in that bundle of goodwill in motion shaped like a person.

It wasn't that Lacroix was upset, mind you, that Isaac was getting ready to move in with someone else, it was just that the someone else in question was, in a word, awful.

His word, yes, but he had eyes; the word fit.

Snippy, sneaky, judgy, demanding and awful.

Probably a few other adjectives.

Lacroix tuned back in, passive expression twisting into a frown while Isaac chattered on about how things would be fine, and this was an important step in his relationship with Max and all the other Isaac nonsense that usually was comically pleasant to hear but it wasn't then.

Like, objectively, sure, love was blind and Lacroix knew that, or assumed anyway since he didn't have any personal insight on the topic, but love was apparently awfully stupid as well.

It made him want to drag his fingers through the violet strands of his hair and scream over the sheer ridiculousness of it all and plead with Isaac to have some common sense.

The faith his friend had in people was often endearing, after all they were friends even with Isaac knowing about his path in sorcerery and that said a lot about the guy, but sometimes he wondered exactly where the other man's brain was at.

Or at least his sense of self-preservation.

"You know if it gets messy you can just-" he lifted a hand to motion vaguely around them, the strap of leather and spikes serving as a bracelet around his wrist clicking softly with the gesture.

Come back, he meant.

"It'll be fine, it'll be great, actually." Isaac flashed that grin, the one that convinced the world everything he said was right, that his sheer determined optimism would make it true.

But then Isaac hesitated, if only for a second, some question in his eyes that never reached his lips and Lacroix shut his own eyes an instant, wondering how best to say it - stop, just stop, I know you and I know this and I hear the yelling and just stop all this now because what do you have to prove by trying to make it work - when Isaac didn't know how to hear the words or see the ugly little warning signs.

The hesitance didn't last long enough, that was always the problem. The excuses lasted out longer.

"Doesn't change the fact." Lacroix replied, wondering if he pushed all the boxes into the other room and they both pretended like they didn't exist if Isaac would just sit down, they'd argue a bit over what to watch or what video game to play for a while, eventually just stay up until late and Isaac would complain about how he had to teach in the morning and he wasn't going to have time to sleep before and all that moving business would go away.

And Max wouldn't matter.

But it wouldn't happen, and he didn't like watching that destruction.

"You can always come back, just in case, you know? Living together is rough on a relationship." Lacroix ventured, as though trying to be delicate about it and not sound like he thought it would fail.

A lie; he hoped it did.

He hoped Isaac could do what he kept offering to help him to do; walk away from all of that. Or run. Whatever. It was the away from it that mattered.

He couldn't catch it, prove it, but the feeling stuck with him; he didn't like Max.

Too bad Isaac had decided this was the person the sun shines on, never seeing the way something infectious lingered at the edge of the light.

Isaac was too good to see things like that, or too willingly blind to it; Lacroix didn't know which was more true.

"Come on, you don't have to worry about that; this is just the start Max and I need for things to get better again." Isaac reasoned, remaining at the edge of the couch rather than sitting down, not allowing himself the possibility of changing his mind.

He looked happy, Lacroix reflected, wishing desperately that weren't the case.

#isaac inspo #tw: toxic relationships #Lacroix #listen i have deep feelings about Isaac's uni bestie and camden buddy #so here we are

[worksinprogress1]

This was the moment that William had been waiting for. It was time to turn his son into his partner in crime.

William unlocked the door. The room behind it was the same size as the one before, and covered floor-to-ceiling with erased but well-used blackboards on which he’d planned many a murder. It sported a beat-up coach and coffee table, a cooler, two man-shaped punching bags with several puncture wounds and a large knife hanging out of one of them, and a desk. A few mechanical parts were strewn across the floor and there were a few empty cans on the table. It looked lived-in, because William had spent a lot of time here alone.

Michael cautiously pulled the chef’s knife out of the punching bag.

“Go on. Give it a stab,” William offered. “I know you want to.”

Michael stabbed the dummy so hard that it fell to the ground, an expression of naughty glee on his face. William beamed with pride.

William went to get himself a beer from the cooler. “It gets exhausting pretending to be the good guy, doesn’t it? Well, I don’t want us to have to pretend around each other anymore. I know you’re just like me. The boxing and the working out help, but no amount of either can kill that drive to go out and hunt. Especially when I’m a few years without.” William was pacing around the relatively small room and death-gripping his can. He knew he ought to slow down so not to make Michael nervous, but he was so amped up.

“Without...?” Michael asked.

“Without letting the inner beast out. Ever since I was little, I couldn’t help but do awful things. To my sisters, to my dog, to my friends. I was just born wrong. But thanks to the remnant, I have a way to kill and still be right with myself and others. I’ve killed eight children, and I will kill more. I don’t have to be right with God because I’ll never meet him. Michael, I’ve been wanting to tell you this for years. We’re going to have so much fun together!”

Michael just stood there, stunned.

William’s face fell. This wasn’t the reaction he’d wanted. “Okay, yeah, that’s probably the reaction I would have had at your age, too. But it’s necessary to get the remnant, so you don’t have to feel bad about it. And it’ll be fun. We’re going to plan murders together, and lure in the victims, and I’ll let you stab them with my best knife while I gather the remnant, and we’ll laugh about it all night long while hiding the body and washing away the blood. Doesn’t that sound great?”

“Yeah,” Michael deadpanned. There was a stony look on his face, and William knew that look. It was his ‘I’m trying not to think too hard about this because it’s freaking me out’ look. Combined with his 'trying to end the conversation' voice. Clearly, Mike needed some time to process before he would come around.

“God, now I feel like I ruined the mood. Well, maybe it’s time that I took you home. Come on. It was a good day, wasn’t it?”

William led them back through his soul communications room. “Yeah... I can’t wait to see Liz and Evan again,” Michael said nervously.

“Me neither.”

They didn’t speak again until they were in the privacy of William’s car and he’d pulled away from the warehouse. “Oh, and Michael? I need you to lie to the police again. It’s just for theft this time. Tell them that I was at a meeting with your teacher at 3 pm... wait, no, they could call the school. Tell them that I was taking you to a private dentist in Hildale. You don’t remember which one. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Thank you.”

William stopped at a red light and looked over to Michael. He looked vaguely ill. William turned his attention back to the road.

Coming to terms with myself was hard for me, too. He’ll come around. I know him. By the time I put a knife in his hand, he’ll be thirsty for blood.

---

The next month was packed with lessons for Michael. One day while they were home, his dad had surprised him by stabbing himself while they were preparing dinner together. He’d laughed about it. “Thank God for remnant,” he’d said. And then he’d mentioned that it was a good opportunity to teach Michael how to wash off bloodstains. And that’s what he’d done right after bandaging himself up.

The memory of scrubbing blood from his father’s shirt with harsh bleach as William stood there shirtless and critiquing him would be burned into his mind for years.

It hurt. He’d thought his dad was a great person, strong and controlled and charismatic, and was teaching him to be the same out of fatherly love. He’d thought that he was the first one to realize that he wasn’t a killer, just a teenager in need of guidance. But William was just a monster who could put up a front, and he’d only given Michael all that attention because he thought he could be one, too.

Could he? William was telling him stories about his own childhood, and Michael did see himself in the tamer ones- they’d both cut off their sleeping sisters’ hair before picture day and tormented younger kids for fun. What did that say about their shared genetic code? Michael often thought back to the Bite and tried to think of whether he felt anything positive after the robot had bitten down. He remembered only numb, paralyzing terror.

He remembered taking out his upset- and honestly, the loss of the person he’d usually be tormenting in times of stress- by beating up his classmates. Just any of them that he could find alone. But he wasn’t like that anymore. A while ago, he would have said that his dad had helped him grow out of it.

Some of William's stories were awful. How he’d abused his dog at ten. Began selling drugs at fourteen. Michael wasn’t that. It took a few weeks, but he became certain that he’d just been a maladjusted teenager lashing out, not the monster his dad was at his age. And he couldn’t kill someone. He didn’t want to get in the way of his dad’s research- preventing premature death was a noble cause, and in spite of everything, he didn’t want to disappoint his dad. But he couldn’t stand the thought of reliving the worst moment of his life.

---

William drove them around lower-class neighbourhoods, scouting for a victim.

“See that little girl, Michael?” William asked, pointing at a redhead, seemingly six at the most and covered in freckles, playing in a plastic pool in the front yard. “She’s the one. We’ve seen her three times, and she’s always been alone. No parents in sight. Latchkey kid. Now, I’ve thinking for the date, how’s about your birthday?”

“Sure,”  Michael said wearily. “Actually, Dad... I don’t think I can do this. I’m sorry.”

William sighed as they pulled out of the neighbourhood. William could tell that Michael was struggling to accept what they were, but he kept hoping that if he kept acting casual about the whole murder thing, Michael would realize it was no big deal. “Well, I certainly hope that you’ll at least try it. I’ll tell you what: we’ll arrange this little killing, I’ll put the knife in your hands, and if you aren’t feeling it, you can go into another room and I’ll take you somewhere else afterwards. You having a weak stomach isn’t the end of the world- there’s plenty of ways you can help with my research. But I really think that once you get that knife in your hands, you’ll feel it.”

“I really don’t think so. I had nightmares for a week after the Bite,” Michael admitted. “I'm just not made of the same stuff as you. I still want to help with your research, though.”

Without speaking, William drove out of the city and towards a secluded, forested area. He didn’t want to have to do this, but it was time.

“Are you going to kill me?” he whispered, eyes wide.

William parked the car in an area hidden by trees. “No. But I have to tell you a story. After your mother and I divorced, I entered a peaceful period in my life. A difficult one, to be sure- the business was in its early stages and I was raising three kids as a single dad and all that- but it was peaceful. There was a moment- between when you were eight and when you were twelve- where I thought humans could change. Henry had his wife and kids and friends and all that. And I was doing my best as a father, a friend, and a member of the community. He was happy and I was good, and I thought it would stay that way.

“But it didn’t change us. Want to know what happened next? I let my jealousy take over. It had been easy for Henry. His family was still together, and it was taking him away from me. Me, the person who made him. I knew it was the wrong way to think, but I couldn’t help but imagine how easily he could be undone. I knew he was sensitive. His wife always dropped his daughter off a few doors from the Pizzeria... I kept thinking about how easy it would be to just lock the door, offer to take her in through the back ally, and kill her. I never thought that I actually would, but one day, when the rain was pouring down and no one else was around, couldn’t help myself. It felt amazing. And it broke Henry apart. It’s been five years and he still barely leaves the house. He doesn’t even visit his ex-wife and son. And you know, both of our parents tried to beat it out of us when we were kids, but didn’t change a damn thing! He’s miserable and I’m evil, because that’s what we are and that’s what we’re destined to be.”

By the end of his rant, sweat was trickling down William’s forehead. He looked in the rearview mirror and saw how emotionally exhausted he looked. He shifted uncomfortably looked over to Michael, who was too shook up to speak.

“So. What I’m saying is, it’s fine if you don’t want to kill someone. I’m still going to put that knife in your hand and see what happens, but if nothing does, so be it. I can see how killing your brother might’ve put you off the idea. But don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re good. And when the thoughts of doing something terrible again come back to you, tell me so I can give you an outlet. You got it?”

“You killed Charlie,” Michael said.

“Yes. What of it?” William replied, wiping off his forehead.

“Doesn’t it make you feel bad that you made him like this? You kind of took Sammy’s dad away from him.”

William sighed. “Look, I know he seemed like a happy guy when you were a kid, but Henry’s a mess, even if the stars aligned and he wasn’t for a while. He was a mess in his youth, and something was going to put him back in that state whether it was Charlie or not.”

Michael nodded, but for some reason, William couldn’t trust that he understood. William started up the car and started towards home. It was a few minutes before he spoke up again. “Look... when Charlie first possessed that robot... I knew that I could do something good that no one else would be willing to. Even though I’d failed to be good every time I’d ever tried. Just be a part of the good thing with me, alright? Instead of murdering the next Evan. It’s either living forever or burning in Hell for us.”

“You’re right. I'll do it,” Michael said, and he didn’t sound like he just wanted the conversation to end. William finally relaxed a little.

“Thanks. I know that it’s not easy to accept this, but it’s better this way.”

“You’re right, Dad. Thanks for helping to prepare me for myself instead of trying to change me. Maybe one day I will be ready to kill someone. It’s in my blood. Just like mechanics.” He was smiling at him.

“You’re the best, son.”

---

Michael didn’t sleep that night. Adrenaline was rushing through his body, telling him to move, but he needed to wait to make sure his dad would be asleep. It was 1 AM when he nabbed his father’s car keys and headed out for Henry’s house.

Was he really going to do this? He had half a mind to just drive by it and go home, but as soon the headlights hit that yard- the yard he remembered playing in with Charlie and his siblings and was now overgrown and full of metal debris, he knew he had to. He couldn’t go back home with no plan except to pretend to be a potential killer and keep what he knew hidden away.

His father had broken this man. It wouldn’t fix him to get Charlie back. It wouldn’t bring his family back together, and who knew if he was even fit to raise her now? Michael couldn’t support doing this kind of damage to people, no matter the payoff.

The windows were boarded off, but as Michael got closer, he saw a trickle of light coming out from them. William had often said that Henry was nocturnal. So, Michael gave the door a knock. About half a minute later, Henry opened it.

“Michael? What are you doing here so late?” Henry asked. The look of concern on his face suggested to Michael that he wasn’t hiding his upset very well.

“I- I don’t... I have a lot to tell you. Dad is a murderer and he wants to bring people back to life... God, it’s such a mess, I don’t where to start...”

“Come in. Sit down. I’ll make some tea, and then you can try to explain it to me.”

As the kettle boiled, Michael took in the environment of Henry’s house. He hadn’t been there since Charlie died, and it had been much more cheerful then: neat, decently decorated, children’s drawings on the fridge. A normal home for a happy family. Now, it looked like a garage with oil-stained furniture in it. There were bottles and cans on the floor along with strange-looking incomplete robot creations, causing the room to smell like metal, oil and alcohol. The walls were blank and empty. It didn’t feel like a place meant to be lived in, let alone to have guests. Still, the layout was familiar enough to make Michael remember happier times.

The kettle boiled, and Henry poured out the tea and handed a cup to Michael, who gripped the warm cup in both hands to steady himself.

“So... what is it? I’m listening.”

Michael took a deep breath. “I guess I ought to start at the beginning."

He told Henry everything about William’s strange behaviour since the Bite. How Michael had thought he was just trying to set him on the right path. How he’d been wrong. He didn’t leave out that he’d lied to the police either- once after knowing that his father was guilty. More importantly, he told Henry about the murder William wanted him to commit.

Strangely, none of it seemed to shock Henry. It made him seem more depressed and resigned. “I kind of figured, honestly. What with all those incidents... I knew I should have quit my job, or asked more questions or something... I wish I’d acted a lot sooner.”

“We’ve both made mistakes. The question is, what can we do?” Michael asked.

Henry thought that over. “Well, you’re seventeen, right?”

“Yeah.”

“How long until your birthday?”

“About a month and a half.”

“Okay. Well, I don’t want to take your father to court while you’re living with him. It sounds like he might hurt you. And if you run away before then, he might accuse me of kidnapping you. So here’s what we do: stay with your dad. Gather all the evidence you can. Then, the night before your 18th, you can come live with me. We’ll call the police on whatever location he tells you the murder will be at so it doesn’t happen, and after that, we’ll get him arrested.”

“Thank you,” Michael said, trying not to think about how everything in his life was about to change.

[senoleaf]

Hey @hauntinghyrule ! Surprise surprise, I’m your Secret Santa!!

Happy Holidays! You wanted some romantic Vio and Shadow, so here you have ‘em holding hands and exchanging presents!

Hope you like it! :)

Also, thanks to @imaginefourswords for hosting this, it was quite a lot of fun!

#four swords #vio link #shadow link #legend of zelda #fsss2021 #four swords secret santa #four swords secret santa 2021 #i pretty much never draw romantic stuff so i hope it’s good!! #had a lot of fun trying for a vague pack ground too! #i haven’t drawn anything in a while either so i’m really grateful i participated haha #helped me get a bit back into it! #i know this is close to being the 20th #that’s on me i’m very sorry ); #it’s still the 19th here tho hehe #oh and look at shadow being creative #he only got the rose bc it reminded him of vio hehe #art #fanart #digital art #sen draws

[delicrieux]

—MAKE YOU SAY “OH” EXTRAS: TINDER

extra meaning non-canonical occurrence; can be placed anywhere in the “make you say oh” timeline after couple (cha. 14) and before the final “oh”. 

pairing—corpse husband x f!reader warnings—tinder profiles, tw: men, swearing.  word count—2.6k. format— written. ─── ❥ req by nonnie​:  y/n makes a youtube vid/live stream where she's just swiping through her tinder acc and corpse literally blocks her lmao

author’s note—akldsljfs this was such a funny idea i could not not write it lmao

ultimate masterlist. myso masterlist

You have pulled the biggest brain move by setting up both a facecam and a screen recorder on your phone. All is beautifully displayed and visible during the stream. Your fanbase is particularly intrigued on what exactly are you planning on doing today, seeing as your tweet of “strea” had been a bit vague, if not downright ominous. No emojis. No elaboration. You couldn’t even be bothered to finish the word. Truly, a mystery. Everyone tuned in and are currently waiting with bated breath.

A few of your fans must sense upcoming doom because the overall mood in the chat turns from optimistically intrigued to...evil. It’s an entity all on it’s own now, clawing at you through the screen with various renditions of laughter and devil emojis. A few eggplants thrown in there for good measure, accompanied, naturally, by the scandalous water drops. At first the common consensus is that you’re biting the bullet and going through your camera roll on stream. Definitely an idea worth considering, though you frankly don’t know what lies at the start of the 11k photograph journey, and you are afraid to check in public. Could be a harmless meme, could be a salacious pic you had saved of an OF star. It’s really a gamble. Either way, you would definitely get banned. You might still get banned. Why do you insist on doing shit like this?

Because it’s funny. Because you’re kinda stupid. Because it’s just so absolutely laughably easy to do.

A smile quirks your lips, and while it is not explicitly smug, the look in your eyes sure is, “Greetings,” You utter lowly, dimming the lights--the budget for this stream! Ugh, you went all out, “my children.”

mother i crave violence

sensing evil energy rn!!

i do not claim the energy in this video for myself or anyone else watching this 💖💖

^with peace and love shut the fuck up

“I know y’all lowkey hoes-” Upon your words the chat splits into two: one side eagerly agrees (even shares a few OF accounts! How helpful, supporting small businesses!), whilst the other feverishly insists on innocence. You make a face stuck somewhere between offended and bewildered, “Now c'mon now-I know you. I know you all. We’re the same, don’t-what was that?”

You try to scroll back to the comment but it’s loss in the sea of incoming messages, “I swear to God I just saw-”

Corpse_Husband: i love late night streams it’s not like i have anything better to do.

“COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPSE!!!!” 

rip headphone users

i cant feel my face when im with you by the weeknd but instead of face its my fucking ears

yall think full vol on pc is better?my parents woke up 😭😭😭😭

To think he’s spending his last waking moments for today with watching you (he probably still would have anyway, because you do not posses an ounce of shame or self-control and pester him relentlessly)! It makes your heart sing, and suddenly, a traitorous, fun hating idea barges it’s way through the crowd of incoherent buzzing and states: don’t do this. For some reason it also has the voice of Rae. As if that would work in guilt-tripping you- Rae never succeed, and her fictitious rendition in mind won’t fare much better either.

Still, you thought about it. That must count for something. Corpse will understand, won’t he? Why don’t you want to upset it in the first place? Men look so funny when they lose their shit, like hello, don’t you have anything better to do? But the image of Corpse just sitting there, hurt, distraught, leaving you on seen because he’s in his sad boy hours leaves a sour taste in your mouth. 

queen rly went from  🥺😊 to 😕 u ok bbgirl?

Corpse_Husband: no pouts cutie

akjdjoeijdfse cUTIE??? deadass boutta r.i.p.

Well that succeeded in eliminating everything from mind, doubts included. If this was an anime, the scenery would shift into something roseate, with flowers and bubbles and sparkles all around you along with a halo or two. Alas, not an anime, rather reality. The led-lights, however, seemingly possessing a will of their own, slowly turn from deep violet to pink. You smile brightly, like the absolute dumbass you are, and you are met with a ray of heart and blushing emojis. You are just so cute, a real cutie! Still in your disguise adorable state, you swipe your finger on your phone screen, the grin never leaving your lips.

There, among the plethora of apps, nestled sits a red square with a white fire plastered on it. The delicate calligraphy on the bottom reads: TINDER.

The mood changes once again- you’re giving the roaches emotional instability by how quickly everything flips over- and the chat spams eggplants vigorously; some, of course, bravely fight against the thirst.

nooooooo i thought y/n is gonna stream in a god honoring way!!!

^pack it up girl defined

“So, Charlie and I-” You note a few awfully curious comments and squint, “-yes, we talk a lot. Charlie is a really good friend of mine. We’re best friends. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. The whole fucking family tree-no, that sounds weird. Delete. Anyway, Charlie, being the absolute fucker he is, said, hey, you know what would be funny? And I was like, nooo, what would be funny, Charlie? And he says to me, he says, says, making fun of men on Tinder. And if y’all need any more proof that Charlie and I are platonic soulmates, then dunno, my children, my roaches, I dunno-I dunno what more to give you.”

You can’t be bothered reading the comments, there’s too damn many. You also need to save your reading comprehension for the actual bios. It has a time limit, that darn thing. 

“Okay, so I made a profile earlier, but I hadn’t swiped on anyone yet-” Despite the fact, Tinder helpfully informs you that already 99+ people have swiped right on you, “So, this is me,” You show the pictures you have of yourself, and damn, not to be a conceited narcissist, but you look really good. Like if you saw yourself on Tinder, you’d super like instantly. “Uhm, so, my bio-my bio says: let’s sauce in the tub together, ya dig? splishy splashy, giggle giggle.” 

i cant believe we are witnessing y/n trying to form a coherent sentence live 

shes trying give her time

ya dig??? y not capeesh

what scene from the godfather is this lol?

“My anthem, is,” You laugh, covering your lips with your hand, “Corpsie, this is form you-” Proudly, you show that indeed, Corpse’s E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE is listed as your anthem on Spotify, “Hehe.” Yes, you say that aloud.

Corpse_Husband: you’re killing me Corpse_Husband: thanks baby Corpse_Husband: now delete tinder ❤︎

You ignore his last quip, deciding it’s finally time to get this show on the road, “Right, let’s do this shit. I’m not actually going to swipe on any guys that look, uh, decent? Yuck, can’t believe I just said that, uhm, because I-because I feel like some actually deserve a chance with someone? I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, as I am currently in a long distance relationship with Chrollo. So I’m just gonna swipe on, like, frat boy assholes. Because I don’t care if I hurt their feelings. Quite frankly I don’t think they possess them in the first place.”

The chat voices their agreements. With the ground rules set, you, giddy, click on the first profile.

Does Tinder know what you’re doing, your plan? The FBI agent watching you through your phone must be working overtime, bless his heart. They must, because the the first guy to meet you is named Jason, and there he is, blond hair and blue eyes, holding up a fish the size of his torso. Marginally adequate in looks, pretty good muscles. A solid 7 bordering on 8. He’s the same age as you, 15 miles away, and he studies at some college you don’t care enough to look up. Bio reads:

I like to drive fast. Fishing is my passion, but if you can’t catch me by the ocean, you’ll catch me catching waves, bro! Love a good gym date. You do squats, and I’ll keep a close eye to make sure you’re doing it correctly ;) You probably saw me at a party. Leader of the The Phi Kappa Psi. I’m a Gemini, if that matters lol.

You, of course, read it aloud, dramatically; provide some constructive criticism-he seems nice, but he’s a Gemini, so naturally, you can’t trust him at all! Also, that gym date session leaves little to be desired. With your rant done, you swipe right, and shocker! (not), it’s an instant match.

“Okie, I still wanna swipe of some profiles, so I’ll see what he’ll text later-” For a second you wonder the legalities of this stream, but you’re having too much fun to think of it further, “guys, I won't get sued, right?”

NOW she considers it

well....

if you do, we’ll kickstart your lawyer dw <3

Onto the next profile. Kevin, 25, is seen fixing his car- or, you assume he’s mid-fixing it, you don’t really know why else he’d hold a wrench and be covered in oil. He’s shirtless, and the caveman part of your brain echoes something closely resembling AWOOOGA!, but...but!...blonde hair, blue eyes. You pout again, “I don’t...I don’t really like blond boys, ya know? With the blue eyes and all, it’s just not my thing, uhm, unless it’s like-like...Armin from Attack on Titan. Else I don’t care.”

Onto the bio:

You have to treat a car like you treat a woman: go on long rides, take the lead, but most importantly, keep her oiled up 😜 

“What the fuck did I just read?”

The chat is equally confused. You swipe right anyway- another match. Too easy.

The stream continues without incident for a solid thirty minutes- all of your matches, expect a few that genuinely looked like normal dudes that really couldn’t write a decent bio to save their lives, had been blond hair blue eyed gym rats with ranging forms of misogyny. Some opened with asking for nudes out right, some asked about your day first before asking for nudes. You prefer the former. Straight to the point! You admire the gall. 

But then, down the forty-five minute mark a profile popped up that made you still by your phone, your smile dying as your eyes bulged. Dear God. Lord in heaven. Who is this demonspiit lookalike and why is he so fucking hot? The neck tats, the skateboard, the clothes- holy shit, you gotta close your mouth before some drool dribbles out.

No bio, just his name, Tyler, and that he’s 23.

“He boutta be 23 in me.” You mutter, swiping right with lightning speed.

WHAT DID SHE SAYYYYY?????????

tyler is y/ns karma for relentlessly mocking that one guy that had a whole ass list on what his “female” partner should be

^he deserved it and also tyler seems like a typical fuckboi y/n grow a braincell

look at mom 🥺 her eyes are sparkling

It wasn’t a match right away. You somehow expected as much, but it still upset you. Simp behavior, pathetic. The stream continued bravely, and when Tyler messaged you a simple “yo” you totally didn’t sequel. You didn’t manage to text him back on stream: texting all those guys that you didn’t really find all that attractive was easy, but this...You’re a sucker for a man who radiates red flag energy. His whole profile is a red flag. He might just be a red flag himself.

What can you do? Suddenly becoming color blind is not easy. Once the stream ends, you unmatch with everyone expect Tyler. He you chat with for a bit, but a sudden craving for different company makes you abandon him, too. You don’t feel too heartbroken for him- you’re certain there’s already too many girls in his dms. You wish them luck.

Happily, you delete Tinder. You go to Twitter, notice you’re trending again- look at you go! Queen shit- and as you compose a thank you tweet, something strange happens. You go to text Corpse, but when you click on his profile you grow cold.

YOU’RE BLOCKED. You can’t follow or see @/Corpse_Husband ‘s Tweets. 

...Pardon? You hop onto Instragram and-also blocked. Seriously? And you thought you’re one petty bitch. Corpse is seriously prissy about everything. Damn, if he didn’t like your stream, he could’ve just said so. Didn’t need to, like, block you from his internet existence. So not cool.

You try texting him but no text go through. Well how will you let him know you deleted Tinder just like he asked? You relieve your frustrations by punching your pillow a few times. Later, you apologize to her, you didn’t mean to hurt her, it’s not her, it’s you. Fuck, 5 minutes of exile and you’re already loosing your mind.

“Raeeeeeeeeeeee!” You whine loudly. It’s roughly 2am now, but you don’t care. You’re too heartbroken to care. There’s a thump from her room, but nothing else, “Raeeeeeeeee!!!” You wail, wallowing in self-pity on your bed. You hear a very loud, very annoyed sigh from her room, followed by angry marching. Your door is abruptly thrown open, and in the dim, colorful light you see her scowl.

“What?” She grits.

“Can you please tell Corpse to unblock me from everything?”

“What did you do now?”

“I made fun of men on Tinder.”

She pauses, “...That doesn’t sound so bad.” She surmises, voice laced with suspicion, “What else?”

“...There was one really hot guy that I kinda sorta talked to after--”

“Y/n.”

“-But I totally deleted Tinder and honestly he was pretty boring, so, like, uhm, please?”

She sighs, the servery of which implies she is holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and instantly you know that you won. She taps away at her phone, “You owe me one.” She states, and before you can reply, she exits your room and slams the door behind her.

Grinning, you text his phone again. The message goes through, oh gosh, you’re so relieved you feel like crying. This has been, officially, the worst five minutes of your life.

You Y DID U BLOCK ME LOSER!!! MAJOR LOSER ALERT!! I DELETED EVERYTHING IT WAS A JOKE r u still mad at me? y u always mad at me i never do anything:(

my husband You’re my baby, how do you think I’ll react when I see you publicly simping for some asshole on Tinder?

Oh no, he used the words, he delivered the killing blow. You’re finished. Your heart can’t take such a workout. 

Not that you would ever admit it to him, though!

You hehe ur jellyyyy u always dis jealous hehe?

my husband Not jealous.

Yeah, you might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but even you know that’s a lie. You send him an array of kissy emojis that he doesn’t have the decency to reply to. Then, completely unprompted and dead serious, you send him a simple voice memo, saying: “You really have nothing to worry about, you know? You’re my favorite, Corpsie.”

He responds via text, reiterating that he’s not fucking jealous and that he just doesn’t like when you show such outward interest in anyone but it’s not like he cares or anything. It’s just really, like, weeeeird to see his baby simping for another man like that totally ruins the whole dynamic!!! It was only natural that he should block you on every social media platform, including his personal number (which, like, was completely necessary! Doesn’t matter that his viewers can’t see it, it’s gotta be super believable!), and inform his followers of that, because it’s all a joke, like, for the dynamic, that Youtube grind, you know? Ya dig? No personal feelings were involved at all. He totally wasn’t upset that you found someone else cute, no way!

my husband I’m not jealous. Lol.

You ik u repeated tht like 50 times  u trynna convince me or??? lmao

my husband No comment. ...You don’t actually talk to anyone else like we’re talking, right?

You no one else calls me their baby if thts wat ur wondering at least not to my knowledge lol im all urs

my husband That makes me very happy to hear:)

Yeah, it makes you very happy, too.

hope you liked it!! xx

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse #corpse x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #myso #make you say oh #imagine #imagines

[dr3amofagame]

so... the red banquet, huh?

im not going to lie, i was cheering on the eggpire the entire time (/lh) - what can i say, something abt the demon possessed resident evil crew just speaks to my heart. theyre FUN, ok? 

anyway, a lot of people were theorizing abt what c!dream showing up at the banquet could look like - and, well, i thought i’d write my version of it. this takes place in the “guard dog au” developed primarily by a gc im in on twitter (@stabbysideblog being the main originator of it, do check sunny out !!) - the basic premise is post-getting the revive book from c!dream, c!quackity continues to get his, uh, “use” out of him by basically treating him as a bodyguard/guard dog as he goes around the server - which should probably give you a pretty good idea of how this is going to go :] 

tws: death, grief, implied torture, starvation, abuse, blood, murder, unhealthy relationship, dehumanization, possession, trauma, mental illness, violence, dark content, dark imagery, emotional distress, mental instability, pandora’s vault/prison arc, c!quackity critical (not really, but a very dark portrayal of him) 

A strangled sob claws its way up Puffy’s throat as she watches Foolish fall.

He drops in a spray of golden ichor in the crimson, brilliant green eyes trained on hers, jaw slack in horror, pain, dipping to the ground and whiting out before he’s even fully collapsed. The others’ screams hardly even meet her ears; all she can see is her son, falling, her son, dying, her son, that same sunlit kindness still held in the curve of his lips in this room that knows nothing but pain and betrayal, gone gone gone gone-

Because of her.

Ant’s still staring at her, pupils thinned to needles from the brightness of the lava at their backs, ears alert but stance entirely calm as he twirls his sword, still dripping gold. His mouth is moving but she cannot hear anything above the ring ring ringing in her ears, the world swirling and blurring dangerously from the tears gathering in her eyes and spilling over her cheeks, Ant’s eyes polished rubies where there had once been a cloudless sky. Bad gestures at the crowd, pushed back towards the lava’s fire in their fear, leaving her to stand in the middle of the room as one desperate dying scream, the egg, standing as a silent witness to it all-

“Bad-” a flash of blue, and there’s someone standing in front of her, shoulders pulled back, a diamond sword glittering their right hand, “Stop it.”

“Quackity.”’

Bad snarls, tail whipping back and forth; Puffy takes a step back, then another, shoulders still shaking in grief for her son, for her friends, for everyone who’s about to lose their lives in this twisted realm of crimson and hellfire. There is no fear on Quackity’s face though he stands unarmored, and for the first time in this awful day something like worry flashes over Bad’s face. There’s history here, she realizes - what did Bad say about Quackity attacking? - but none of this is making sense, not the self-assured way Quackity is carrying himself, wings relaxed and folded at his back, not the simmering unease making itself known in the foreign cadence of Bad’s voice.

“Oh my gosh, look at what you’ve done,” Quackity says, voice almost patronizing, like a parent stumbling in on the mess their child has made out of their bedroom, “this is impressive, I’m not going to lie, this is quite impressive.” Puffy swallows thickly, hears the shuddering gasp of someone behind her - Fundy, probably, or Sam - as Quackity’s voice drops. “You have to stop right now.”

“Stop?”

“This whole Egg thing is just getting out of control - you just killed a man,” Quackity stalks across the netherbrick floor like he has all the time in the world, ignoring the crossbows that the Eggpire has trained on his back, guarded only by the off-white shirt he’s wearing, an untied tie hanging limply around his neck. She sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth - my son, they killed my son, she means to say, but the words stick to the walls of her throat and only escape her lungs in another series of wracking sobs. “Is that what you wanted to do, Bad?”

He laughs - laughs, of all things, and there is something here that Puffy is missing, that isn’t clicking through the muddied fog of grief hanging grey and suffocating around her head, but Quackity is speaking again and she can’t think about it all, not now, “-and I’m not gonna have it anymore, Bad.”

He slips over by the crowd, eyes glancing all of them huddled in one fearful mob over the tables, eyes dark and daring and cold; the Eggpire keeps their eyes trained on him, Bad’s eyebrows furrowed, Ant’s muzzle twisted in a snarl. Puffy watches, their words passing over her like water skidding against the surface of a rock splitting a stream in two, heart thudding in her ears, marking out the heartsick beats in this poisoned melody - one-two, her-son, her-son, her-son-

He stops in front of her in the middle of monologuing, eyes trained on her own like he’s trying to tell her something. His eyes flick down and she follows their gaze to his other hand, the one not clasped around a sword handle, watches as he gestures vaguely in the direction of the Eggpire. She frowns, confusion cutting through the grief - what is he trying to say? - and Quackity sighs, index finger slashing in the air in the shape of what might be an A as he spins on his heel to walk back towards Bad and the others.

“So how about we just stop playing?”

Quackity smiles, teeth white and glittering from the lava’s glow even as the Eggpire surrounds him, pushes him back against the wall. Bad seems to hesitate, hand clasped around the trigger of a crossbow he keeps pointed at the other’s head; when he speaks, he almost sounds mournful.

“I can’t,” he mutters, quiet, stepping forwards as his shoulders straighten, pushing Quackity back in a motion that the others are quick to follow. Puffy watches, an awful sinking feeling falling through the hole left in her chest by the sight of her son, falling, her son, dead - watches as Quackity’s wings open, shine golden in the lava’s light - what is he planning?

“You know why I can’t stop.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh through his lungs, “Bad- you and all your buddies here, drop your weapons, and leave. Let all of these people go.”

“Or what?” Ant’s voice is sharp, but Quackity barely pays him a second thought, swinging a glare at his head and cutting him off.

“I’m not talking to you,” he laughs, dismissive, “I’m talking to Bad.”

“No-” Puffy watches as Bad’s hand tightens on his crossbow, punctuating the word with a step forward. “You put your weapon down. If you wanted to stop us?” He’s too close to Quackity for Puffy to make out either of their faces, crossbow bolt aimed and ready to send straight through his skull. She stiffens, sees from the corner of her eye as the ones beside her look away, and resigns herself to the inevitable spray of blood on brick - not again not again don’t make me watch again - “You should’ve brought more than just yourself.”

Quackity laughs.

“I did,” his voice is dangerous in its levity, making Bad, then the rest of the Eggpire step back as his wings spread open further, watching with bated breath and wide eyes as a swarm of white descends from a hidden hole in the wall, “Or, well, I did the next best thing. I brought my worst enemy.”

“What?”

“Alright Quackity, where’s this Egg thing?”

Technoblade jumps down into the room in a familiar purple-black blur of expertly enchanted netherite armor, form impeccable despite the seeming exhaustion in his voice. At his feet, a pack of wolves gather, pace, muscles coiled and clearly ready to strike; he rolls his shoulders back, signature fireworks loaded into his crossbow, and the crowd behind Puffy immediately breaks into shocked murmuring and soft cheers.

On Quackity’s other side, someone else flips into the room, wearing a suit of all things, crisp and well-pressed; Purpled grins, entirely too gleeful as the Eggpire presses back further, held off by the dogs swarming and growling at their feet.

“Purpled- we hired you!”

“To be frank with you, Bad, a sword appears in Purpled’s hand and he flips it casually, blade thin and gleaming, “Quackity just had the better price.”

“We- we still outnumber you!” Bad’s voice is a near-scream in its desperation, his tail lashing back and forth as he shifts his weight forward, “It’s four against three- we’ll still win-” Despite herself, Puffy’s mind spins; either way, they’re still at a disadvantage from sheer numbers alone, never mind Quackity’s lack of armor. Maybe if they all work together, they’ll be able to sufficiently stop them, but there’s no way she can see this ending in anything less than a bloodbath-

“I didn’t want for it to come to this, Bad,” Quackity’s voice drops low and sweet, the sincerity in his tone belied by his glittering eyes and jagged grin. The shift in tone sends a shiver down her back, has even his allies shifting uncomfortably in what seems to be confusion - Puffy catches something like a murmured no from Sam, behind her, before Quackity whistles, loud.

It all happens too fast for her to follow; one moment, the Eggpire is standing, weapons raised and ready to fight; the next, and there is a new netherite-clad figure in the middle of the room, signature sparks of purple from a pearl still glittering around them, axe buried into Antfrost’s chest. The room devolves into shrieks as his body dissolves, Bad gasping sharply and something dark bubbling in Puffy’s chest - good - as the newcomer in the room moves over to Ponk, bloodstained axe swinging in a downward arc, only barely stopped in time by a diamond sword catching on the crook of the blade.

“Go!” Quackity’s voice rings out above the chaos, and Techno and Purpled - seemingly shaken from their shock - fly into motion, fireworks bursting in flashes of red and black that send Puffy blinking out stars from her eyes, Purpled moving to match blows against Hannah and Techno’s army biting at the ankles of the Eggpire leader. Around her, people scream in relief, cheering as the Eggpire, clad in eggshell-blue, are pushed back one by one, hindered by a shifting wave of teeth and claws and clashing blades and netherite moving smoothly over the uneven floor - Bad screams, “RETREAT!”, and they disappear into the wall.

Purpled curses; “I’m going after them.” Puffy watches, still reeling, as he dives into the corridor that Bad had revealed, a flash of purple and blue melting into the shadows; the mystery figure - still hauling a heavy, bloodstained axe, nearly dragging against the floor - moves forward as to follow.

Quackity snaps his fingers, and the figure stops, turns, immediately moving to the winged man’s side. Behind her, Puffy can make out cheers, gasping, hysterical sounds of relief; she can’t join them, feels nothing but the shuddering weight of her grief pressing further on her lungs as the adrenaline fades, head dizzy with Foolish’ sharp gasp in pain, Ant’s yowl of agony. Her eyes flick to the side, catch on Sam pacing, muttering under his breath; when his eyes meet hers, they widen in something like - alarm?

She shakes her head; she can’t think about all of that, right now. Her hooves stumble over the vines and rot strewn over the floor, carrying her forward to the glitter of gold on red, to where her son had fallen and she could do no more but watch with a scream caught between her teeth.

A hand lands on her shoulder- “I’m sorry we couldn’t make it in time.”

She whirls around; Quackity’s looking down at her, face twisted in sympathy. Behind him, the armored stranger looms, hair long and tangled, helmet keeping their face in shadow and hiding their features from view. There’s something distantly familiar to them, in the way they shift from one foot to the other, something that makes her eyes narrow and throat tighten-

“Who are you?” The words tumble from her mouth, making Quackity freeze, jaw snapping shut, the figure behind him tensing almost imperceptibly under their armor. “Who-”

Quackity’s eyes are dark, piercing; she can’t read them, the flat line of his mouth as confusing as it is frustrating. His eyes flick up to somewhere over her shoulder before moving back to her own

“How rude of me,” He smiles, gold tooth glinting, “I didn’t even introduce our special guest.”

His right wing presses against their back, and they drop, immediately, to their knees, making her step back in shock. Quackity’s hand slips easily under the edge of their helmet, ripping it off with little care and letting their hair fall in a wave of dusty browns over their face; he pulls the strands back roughly, revealing the paleness to their skin, the hollows in their cheeks-

“Dream?”

Her breath shudders in her chest, eyes snapping up to Quackity, still smiling, hand still pressed against the back of his skull. Dream’s face is pale, thin, clawed with new scars that highlight the jut of his cheekbones and the dullness of his eyes. He looks up at her, eyes glassy, skin almost grey, and for a moment she’s looking at Foolish, eyes unseeing in death, the luster of his skin stolen like the air from his lungs, and she nearly screams.

“Puffy, Puffy,” Quackity murmurs, almost kind, “It’s alright, see? Everything’s fine now.”

“He- he’s supposed to be in prison,” she hisses, not missing how he flinches, not missing how even that is hindered by the hand braced against his head. He looks strangely small kneeling at Quackity’s side, dwarfed by the netherite he’s wearing; even with an axe strapped to his back, the blade still wet with crimson and reeking of iron and decay, he hardly looks like the villain that had terrorized the server, the son she could no longer recognize in the midst of the bridges he burned.

“Oh- don’t worry about him,” Quackity shrugs, wings fluttering, “It’s all being done with the Warden’s permission, Puffy, I know what I’m doing.” As if to prove his point, his hand tightens on the other’s hair, tugging his head back by the roots; Dream hardly even reacts, simply letting himself be manhandled, throat bare and exposed to the air, similarly criss-crossed by scars. “He’s perfectly well-behaved now, you see?”

Her throat closes, the pit in her gut torn open by the sight of her son with a blade skewered through his heart only growing wider, hungrier, by the dullness in the eyes of the other. Foolish’ death had happened too fast for her to react: one moment, he was staring at her, eyes mournful in goodbye; the next, he was a tumble of gold and green and blue against the floor, half of his name still not having left her lips. Dream’s head swivels to hers, face entirely blank; there is nothing quick written in the gauntness of his face, more scar tissue than skin, in the shadows under his eyes or how they seem to stare, unseeing, in the long, knotted strands of hair twisted over Quackity’s knuckles. He looks like he’s been dying, slowly, for months, and the screaming cry of YOU FAILED ringing in her head in Ant’s voice only grows louder.

“What did you-” the words scrape roughly against the inside of her mouth, “What did you do?”

Quackity shrugs, letting go, and Dream’s head tips forward to stare at the floor. “What had to be done.”

He clicks his fingers again, and Dream stands, falling behind Quackity with his shoulders pulled up to his ears. Quackity hands him back his helmet, keeping his hand stretched out, palm up, even after Dream takes the netherite and fastens it back over his head. Puffy watches, heart stuck in her throat, as Dream fiddles with something by his throat, pulls out a thick coil of iron chains, pressing the end to Quackity’s outstretched hand - the other side, she realizes, fastened around his neck.

Her breath stutters when he looks back at Quackity, gut roiling at the familiarity - it’s an imperfect copy of the way he used to look at her, a skittish shadow at her tail, all awkward smiles and fidgeting hands. Only now, his eyes don’t dance with the same light, his lungs shivering in fear instead of wheezing laughter; she watches as his head follows Quackity like he’s the only person in the room, a duckling imprinted on the nearest person and ready to follow to the ends of the world and further, and her heart shatters all over again.

“Anyway,” Quackity’s eyes soften, lips curled in sympathy, “My condolences, Puffy, for your son. It really is a tragedy.”

She watches him leave with tears in her eyes, a sob once again caught in her throat. The images overlap - Foolish, smiling under the sun’s glow, sitting on the roof of his summer home - Dream, grinning in the treetops, eyes as green as the leaves surrounding him - Foolish, falling in a spray of ichor and a gasp of pain, Dream, grey-eyed and silent, dead as the crimson rot surrounding his beaten body-

My condolences for your son, Quackity’s words echo in her skull, and not for the first time, she laughs miserably, tears falling from her eyes.

Which one?

#tw death #tw grief #tw torture #tw injuries #tw blood #tw violence #tw abuse #tw mental illness #tw mental instability #tw dark content #tw dark imagery #tw starvation #tw unhealthy relationship #tw toxic relationship #tw dehumanization #tw trauma #tw emotional distress #tw possession #pandora's vault #prison arc #c!quackity critical #-> my writing #queue <3 #long post #my writing :D

[jenohi]

Let Me Love You

"Smoke and Mirrors keep us waiting on a miracle."

“My cousin Y/N is transferring here to SMU. My parents asked me to stay with her and take care of her, so she and I decided to share an apartment. I know we planned to stay here for all 4 years of college but my parents were adamant.” Taeil said to his friends apologetically.

Yuta got up from the table and scoffed. He would never openly admit it to anybody but in the past year he had gotten really attached to his friends, the members of their new secret society, NCT. After their first semester, they had agreed to rent a house together on the edge of campus that they would all stay in for the next seven semesters of university. “How old is she? 12? She’s a university student, why does she need to be babysat by you?”

The other members eyed Yuta wearily, he definitely had the shortest temper out of all of them. After a long pause, Taeyong decided on a resolution. “That’s okay Taeil, we understand. Just remember we’ll always have a room open for you. You’re still a member of NCT. Every Sunday at 8 we’ll still meet here if that works for everybody?”

Taeyong looked around the table and was satisfied when everybody nodded, the last person he saw was Yuta. Yuta wasn’t happy about this, but he knew it wasn’t really his place to tell his friend not to move out. So eventually, he nodded his head in agreement as well and Taeyong smiled. He didn’t see it but Taeil smiled and breathed a sigh of relief as well.

‘In all 21 years of my life, I have never met someone as infuriating as Nakamoto Yuta.’ You thought as you tossed the left over trash from your cousin and his teammate, friend? You weren't exactly sure what their relationship was. When the Moon cousins had initially agreed to share an apartment together in the city just outside their university, the last thing You expected was to have to deal with a constant stream of rowdy boys constantly going in and out of their apartment.

After piling all the leftover dishes into the sink, You turned on the faucet and began to start washing the dishes. You only looked up and smiled when Taeil spoke to you, about to leave their place “Hey Y/N, thanks for making us dinner. It was really yummy!”

Yuta didn’t say anything. He could sense that You always had some kind of edge against him. It bothered him a little bit, but not enough for him to do anything about it. Whenever he came to hang out with Taeil at his place, you usually stayed out of the way so although your presence may have been uncomfortable. It had never outright inconvenienced him.

Once the two had left, You made your way to the balcony of their apartment. You shrieked when you breathed in the remnants of the cigarette smoke in the air. You looked down to see two cigarette butts in the ashtray that had not been properly snuffed out. You picked them up and tossed them on the ground and stomped on them to snuff them out.

You didn’t have an issue with smoking, you even smoked a cigarette or two in the times you were most stressed out but there were few things you hated more than the smell of cigarettes. After snuffing out the butts, you stormed back into the apartment and picked up your phone to call Taeil.

“Hey, I thought I told you to make sure you take care of the cigarettes and the smell when you’re done smoking them!” You yelled into the phone as soon as your cousin answered. “Look, I don’t have an issue with it, but I don’t want to accidentally burn down our entire apartment complex and you know I hate the smell when you smoke too much.”

You stopped your rant when you realized your cousin hadn’t said anything. Taeil was sweet and usually he would have said something to apologize by now. You looked down at your phone, his name was on the caller ID. You brought the phone back up to your ear “Taeil?”

“Not Taeil. This is Yuta.”

“Yuta? Where’s Taeil? Why are you answering his phone? Can you put him on the line?”

There was a pause, You could hear vague mutterings from the phone before Yuta’s voice was back on the line. “Taeil’s busy right now.”

You heard a groan that sounded like someone got hit and then a bunch of voices that followed in an ‘ooh’. Then you heard a voice that sounded suspiciously like your cousin scream. “Is that Taeil? Is he okay?”

“I’ll let him know you called. I gotta go now. Bye.” Yuta said quickly, trying to end the conversation.

“Wait!” You shrieked before he could hang up. “What’s going on? Where are you guys?”

You narrowed your eyes as you heard Yuta scoff into the phone “your cousin Taeil is a grown-ass man. You don’t have to worry about him alright?”

“But-”

“Are you busy tonight?”

“What?”

“There’s a party tonight at my house. Come, starts at 11:30 PM.”

“No, I don’t want to go to a party. It’s a Tuesday! Is Taeil okay? That sounded like him earlier.”

“If you want to check on your beloved cousin, come to my party. He’ll be there. Loosen up a little bit, it’ll be fun.”

“Um, I’ll think about it.”

“Great.” Yuta said, hanging up before You could say anything else. You stared at your phone, what in the world had just happened? You looked at the clock to see that it was 10:30. You had an hour to decide if you would actually go to the party or not. Who else was going to be there?

You didn’t know very many people since you had just transferred to SMU, so maybe it was a good idea to go to this party and socialize a little bit. You could take the opportunity to potentially make some friends.

Just as You was about to finish touching up your make-up, your phone pinged. You picked it up to see that it was an address from an unknown number. You tapped on the address to see where it was, as you were doing so, you saw a notification of another message. ‘This is Yuta btw.’

The house was on the very edge of campus and close enough that you could just walk there. You were surprised to see that there were already crowds of people both inside and outside the house. There were colorful lights flashing from outside the house.

‘How the heck am I actually supposed to meet anybody like this?’ You asked herself. You took a deep breath and made her way up the stairs and into the packed house. You threaded through the crowd of people dawdling in the foyer, pushing her way to find some space. Eventually, you made her way into the kitchen and breathed a sigh of relief once you had some space to herself.

There was a whole bunch of opened bottles of alcohol and stacks of cups laid out on the island in the middle of the kitchen. You moved closer to the island and started reading the labels of the bottles. In Germany you didn’t go to very many parties, if you wanted to drink you would just go to the bar and order a beer. But you didn’t see any kind of drink you recognized here.

“Do you need help?” a melodic voice asked her. You turned around to see a fairy like girl approach her. You didn’t say anything as the girl grabbed the cup from her hand.

“Do you like Coca Cola?” the girl asked. You nodded and you grabbed a large glass bottle and started pouring the liquid into the plastic cup and then you grabbed the large bottle of Coca Cola resting on the island and poured it into the cup before handing the cup back to You.

“I’m Selena by the way.” Now that You could see her up close, she really did look like a fairy. You didn’t comment on the fact that her hair seemed kinda messy or that her lipstick was obviously smeared.

“Nice to meet you Selena, I’m You.”

Just as Selena was about to respond, a pair of arms wrapped around her waist effectively cutting off the conversation. You were shocked to see that it was Taeil who had his arms wrapped around Selena, he was currently whispering something into her ear that made her giggle.

When Taeil looked up, his eyebrows jumped up to see You standing there. “Hey Y/N, I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Uh yeah, it was kind of last minute. Yuta invited me actually.”

At this, Taeil’s eyebrows rose even higher. He knew that the two had always been at odds with each other. “Yuta?”

As if he were summoned by the devil himself, Yuta appeared in the kitchen. He strode over to the other side of the kitchen island and started digging through the bottles. Cursing when he couldn’t find whatever bottle he was looking for. He paused when he spotted the drink in You’s hand.

“What are you drinking?” he asked. His eyes looked up, one side of his lips pulling up into a smirk when he recognized You. “So the prissy princess finally decided to show her face to the lowly commoners.”

“I’m not a prissy princess.” You said. You looked down at your cup and then over at Selena, you had no idea what drink the girl had made for you.

“Sorry Yuta. I used the last of the rum to make her a rum and coke.” Selena said, a smirk painted on her face. You tried not to appear too nosy when you looked over at Selena to see her leaning into Taeil. Did Taeil have a girlfriend that You didn’t know about?

It was obvious that Yuta was dissatisfied. He stared you down and when you finally turned your attention to him, he looked down at the drink. “Are you going to drink that?”

You looked down at the cup again, startled, then looked back up at Yuta. “Uh, yeah but you can have some if you’d like.”

You handed him your red solo cup over the kitchen island. Yuta plucked it from your hand and took a slug of it before dropping it back into your hand. “It's good. Try it.”

He drank a lot, half of the cup was empty. You lifted the cup to your face and took a sip, you tried not to make a face as you tasted the bitter rum. This is what people drank at parties?

“What do you think?”

“It’s alright.” You said. It tasted horrible and you didn’t want it anymore. But you didn’t want to offend Selena.

“Liar.” Yuta said, he scoffed as he grabbed the cup from your hands and drank the rest of it.

“I’m not lying!” You said, looking over to make sure you didn’t offend Selena. You were shocked to see that Selena and your cousin had disappeared. “Okay, maybe I lied a little bit.”

Yuta tossed his head back and laughed. “Loosen up. You look so uncomfortable. This is a party, go have fun.”

“I’ve never been to a party before. Everyone is already so...drunk.” You said.

Suddenly everything made sense to Yuta, why the darn girl was always so uptight and prissy all the time. He made his way around the kitchen island and stood in front of You before placing one arm on each side of you and leaning down “they didn’t have parties back wherever you came from?”

What was he doing? You thought. You leaned back as far as you could, the expression on Yuta’s face was smug and you weren't sure what he was going to do. Out of all of Taeil’s friends, you heard that Yuta was the wildest and most spontaneous. “In Germany we just go to bars and drink beer. I’ve never gone to an event so...wild.”

“You think this is wild?” Yuta asked. “Have you checked out the basement yet?”

You shook your head. Yuta grinned, almost maniacally and grabbed one of your wrists and tugged you behind him, pulling you through crowds of people. Unlike how you had to push your way between groups of people earlier, the crowds seemed to part for Yuta and wherever he went eyes followed him.

Instead of pulling you downstairs like you expected, he pulled you up a set of stairs and pulled you into an empty room. You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down. Both You and Yuta could tell that you had been tense and uncomfortable since you had stepped into the house.

“Pick your poison.” Yuta said, pulling open a fridge he had set aside in the corner of his room. “These are all my drinks. This is the good stuff that we don’t share at parties.”

“Wow, you’re letting me have exclusive access?” You said, in an almost mocking tone. Yuta raised an eyebrow.

You bent down to look to see what was in the fridge. You smiled in delight when you saw your favorite brand of beer. You grabbed a bottle and held it against the edge of the fridge and smacked the top with your hand to take off the cap. Yuta didn’t say anything but he was impressed, this was the first time he had seen You behave this way.

Yuta couldn’t say anything when You tossed your head back to take a sip of beer. You made it look like a beer commercial. After a couple more delicate sips, Yuta grabbed one of your arms and pulled you close so that you stood in between his legs and your ear was right up against his mouth.

“Chug it.” he said. You looked at him with your eyebrows raised. Yuta raised his eyebrows in return.

You shouldn’t chug it. That would be unclassy. You thought. But why did you kind of want to? You looked Yuta in the eyes and narrowed your eyes, what was he playing at? The corner of Yuta’s lips pulled up into his trademark smirk as he opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of the same beer and used his teeth to pop the top off.

Yuta pulled the bottle you drank from out of his hand and replaced it with the one you just opened. He put your already opened one on the desk and grabbed another one before biting on the cap again and spitting out the cap. He clinked the two newly opened bottles together, and lifted his bottle up to his lips.

“I’ll do it with you.” Yuta said.

With the bottle at his lips, Yuta gave you the most taunting expression. He was challenging you, and You never refused a challenge. You brought your bottle to your lips and started pouring the beer back down your throat.

Yuta was both mildly surprised and mildly amused to see how quickly You had finished your beer. In fact, you had finished your bottle before he had finished his. As soon as you finished your first bottle, he picked up the bottle you drank from earlier that was sitting on his desk and handed it to your.

You gave him a look before placing down the bottle you had finished and taking the one you had drank from earlier and tossing it back down your throat as well.

Two beers wasn’t enough to get you blackout drunk. But it was certainly enough for you to start feeling a buzz.

Yuta waited for you to finish your second beer and once you did he took the bottle from you and grinned at you. You grinned back like a loon and with a satisfied grin Yuta grabbed your wrist again and pulled you behind him.

This time, he did pull you down to the basement. And it was wild. It was dark and the lights were colorful. There were people everywhere and this time people did not part for Yuta. People were dancing, or wobbling goofily. The sight was amusing.

You didn’t even notice that you had let go of Yuta’s hand. You found yourself swaying along to the loud beats of the song. You didn’t know who was around you or exactly where you were but you were having fun. Honestly, it was kind of gross as it was super hot and there were at least 5 people pressed up against you but never had you let herself experience this kind of situation.

Yuta cursed when he noticed that You were no longer with him. You would be fine on your own right? He needed to find Taeyong and take care of some things really quick.

You spotted Taeil near a makeshift bar and grinned, you pushed through the people and made your way over to him grinning. He grinned back and waved at you. When you were close enough, he approached you “are you having fun?”

You nodded, dancing along to the beat. “I didn’t think I would but I’m actually enjoying this. I could use a drink though, it’s kind of hot down here.”

Taeil nodded and brought out another red solo cup. “The only thing we have down here is jungle juice. It’s pretty much just cheap wine with juice, but it does the job.”

You took a sip and was delighted to find that it tasted pretty much just like juice and you drank the rest of the cup and before handing it back to Taeil for him to refill. The surprise was evident on his face “I didn’t know you liked these kinds of events. I should have invited you earlier.”

“No it’s okay. I’ve never really been to an event like this before and I don’t think I’d like it. But today I am loosening up.” You declared. You grabbed the cup and wandered off into the crowd of people.

The alcohol was starting to hit you and the people around you were starting to blur. You suddenly felt nauseous when you felt someone grab you by the wrist and jerk you around. When you looked up you saw that it was Yuta.

“Yuta!”

“What’s that in your hand? Where did you get that?” he asked. He tried to grab the cup from you but you kept moving it away from him. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to accept drinks from strangers? Are you stupid?”

You shoved him away, shocked into sobriety by his words. You moved to walk away from him. You thought maybe you had read Yuta wrong and maybe he wasn’t so infuriating but actually he was infuriating and a jerk.

Undeterred, Yuta followed you and grabbed your again. This time he did manage to grab the cup from your hands and he tossed it in a trash can that was sitting in the corner of the basement.

“Hey! What are you doing?” You shrieked.

“What are you doing? Where did you get that drink? It could be roofied.” he yelled.

“What is your problem? I got that from Taeil. You know? My cousin?” You yelled back. This time Yuta had no words. You rolled your eyes and scoffed, you placed both hands on his chest and leaned close to speak in his ear.

“Get lost.”

You used both hands to push him back into the crowd and stepped away from him. You found the staircase that led you back to the main floor and made your way up. This isn't fun anymore. The party was over. Taeil was fine.

“What’s your problem?” Yuta yelled from behind you. You whirled around him and stomped back to him and stood so that you were standing right in front of him nose to nose.

“No. What’s your problem? You invited me to this party. You gave me a drink too! Why are you overreacting over Taeil giving me a drink?”

He followed you out of the NCT house. “Aw, did I make the prissy princess upset? I’m so sorry. Whatever will I do?”

“What’s wrong with you?” You screamed once you were both far enough from the NCT house. You were incredibly irritated, tired, and frustrated.

“What do you have against me? Ever since you’ve arrived at SMU all you’ve done is be such a bitch. To me. And specifically me. Trust me, I’ve noticed.”

You paused. You didn’t realize that Yuta had noticed. You looked away and tried to think of what to say. You couldn’t come up with the right thing to say so you just settled with “sorry.”

“Sorry? You think I’m gonna let you get off with a sorry?” Yuta scoffed. He walked up to you this time, and looked down at you.

“What do you want then?” You asked, not backing down.

“You.” Yuta said, and for a moment it was dead silent. Then Yuta threw his head back and cackled. “That’s what you thought I was gonna say right?”

He didn’t even notice that you had turned around and stormed off back towards the direction of your apartment. He followed you back to your apartment, but he didn’t bother to chase after you. He strolled casually back towards your apartment jingling your keys in his pocket.

As soon as you reached your apartment and reached into your pocket for your keys you cursed when you realized they weren’t on you. You patted your other pockets and fished out your phone hoping that Taeil was still awake. You dialed his number.

“Looking for these?” You heard Yuta say from behind you as he jingled your keys in front of your face.

Just as you reached up to snatch them from him, he moved to hold them behind his back.

“Give those back to me. I want to go home and sleep. This night sucks.”

“No.”

You whined. “Why?”

“Tell me what I did wrong.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry for being a bitch can I have my keys back?”

Yuta looked unimpressed.

“Fine. I’ll tell you why I’ve been rude to you, but can we do it inside? You’ll probably think it’s really stupid once you hear.”

“Okay. Move.”

You moved away from the door, and watched as he unlocked the door and pushed it open. You stepped inside when he gestured for you to go in. He stepped in after you and shut the door behind you both as you both took off your shoes and stepped into the apartment. Once the two of you were situated on opposite ends of the couch facing each other you spoke.

“The first few times you visited our apartment I got the impression that you were upset with me. That you didn’t want me around. So naturally, I decided to act back. Plus, whenever you come here you and Taeil leave this place a mess. The other guys either clean up after themselves or it’s not so bad and Taeil cleans it up himself.”

Yuta didn’t say anything for a few moments. “The truth is, I didn’t want you here. At first.”

“Great.” you said, turning away from him and getting up from the couch. “Get out.”

“Wait.” Yuta said, grabbing your hand before you could leave. “At first. At first, I didn’t want you here. The truth is your cousin is awesome, before you came we and a few other guys lived together and they’re the closest friends I’ve ever had. We were, we are a brotherhood. And I was concerned about what you coming here and Taeil moving out would do to the dynamic of our friendship.”

“So what?” You asked, turning around to look at him. “What changed?”

Yuta didn’t answer and you were getting annoyed. So you tried to tug your hand out of his. But he didn’t let go. Instead when you tried pulling your hand out of his a second time, he pulled you forward, so hard you fell into his lap.

“I realized I was being really dumb. I realized that Taeil’s cousin is really cool and I started to get jealous that she treated all the other brothers better than me. Then...I started to develop feelings for Taeil’s hot prissy cousin from Germany.”

You didn’t say anything as you were straddled on Yuta’s lap. His forehead was pressed against yours and you could feel his eyes looking at yours, trying to make eye contact you. But you were unsure of how to feel, you kept your eyes looking downward. How had things shifted so suddenly? What was this feeling?

Before Yuta could second guess himself he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours. He stayed like that, holding his breath and hoping you wouldn’t push him away. When you lifted an arm around his shoulders and moved your lips against him he breathed a sigh of relief and wrapped his arms around your torso and pulled you in so that your bodies were melded together.

When you ran out of breath you pulled your lips from his and leaned back to catch your breath. Yuta moved one arm from your waist up so that his hand held the side of your head. You leaned your head into it and he leaned forward and began to kiss down from behind your ear to your collarbones.

“I-, we should stop.” you were confused and you were tired. How had things escalated so quickly?

Yuta stopped and lifted his head up. He moved his arm back down so that both arms tightly gripped your waist, holding you against him. You moved your hands to his biceps and tried to push yourself out of his grip. “Let me go.”

“Don’t you think that we should talk about it?”

“No. I want to sleep.” You said, still looking away from him and avoiding his gaze.

He lifted you up wordlessly, you gave up on trying to fight out of his grip and wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. You tucked your face into his neck.

“Don’t fall asleep.” Yuta said as he fell back on your bed, still carrying you. “The way we are, we still have a million miles ahead of us.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Please, Yuta. I need to sleep and I need to think.”

You were saying one thing, but your face was still tucked into Yuta’s neck and your limbs were still wrapped around Yuta’s body.

“Can I stay?” Yuta asked quietly. The truth was, he was nervous and worried that he had come on too strong, that he had played his cards wrong. But he breathed a sigh of relief when he heard you say.

“Yeah.”

The last thing you heard as Yuta lifted both of you up and under the covers was “don’t you give up. Let me love you.”

#yuta #nakamoto yuta #yutanet #yuta x reader #yuta oneshot #yuta angst #yuta fluff #nct #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct angst #nct fluff #nct blurbs #nct drabbles #nct 127 #nct oneshot #nct x reader #frat nct #nct frat #yuta nakamoto x reader #yuta nakamoto scenarios #neowritingsnet #cznnet #nct yuta #nct writing #nct writers

[iamasphodelknox]

Suptober Day 2: No Vacancy

“Is there a festival in town or something?” Dean groaned, gripping his hands on Baby’s wheel like he could wish an empty motel to spring up into existence. He’d been looking forward to a real bed after eight hours driving Baby across the country but the flashing red “No Vacancy” sign at the Barely There Inn was the fourth one they’d seen in the last half hour. 

Honestly, he was getting too old for this.

Cas humphed next to him, quietly munching on a homemade granola bar Dean had made from the pumpkins and apples in Cas’s garden. He’d been quiet for most of the drive, unless he was answering a question Dean tossed his way when Zep wasn’t enough to fill the silence. 

Dean could practically hear Sam’s voice in his head. You have to talk to him and get your head out of your ass, Dean! You can’t get to where you want to be with him without opening up a little! Dean was trying, alright? Talking was hard when it meant being vulnerable, especially when your companion was the guy you were in love with but in denial about. But Cas had seemed willing enough to go on this case with Dean, since Sam was holding down the phones at the bunker for some of the younger hunters. Cas had even made a comment that it’d be nice for them to get out of town together for a bit.

Dean drove a little further down the highway, spotting another sign just ahead. 

“KOA?” Cas read out loud as they passed the sign. “What’s KOA?” 

Dean felt his heart give a twinge. He hadn’t ever stayed at a KOA, not in all of his and Sam’s treks across the country. Not since… he shook his head once to himself.

“Kampgrounds of America,” Dean muttered. He gripped Baby’s steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. 

“Dean,” Cas turned in his seat, looking back at the sign behind them. “We can camp. It’s not a motel bed, but…”

“No way, Cas,” Dean said, his voice rougher than he meant, rougher than he’d usually be. “No camping.” 

“Dean, we don’t have any other options,” Cas said, annoyingly patient. “And it’s more comfortable than sleeping in the car.” 

“Don’t…” Dean started but Cas cut him off. 

“I’m not mocking your car, Dean,” Cas said with a placating hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I’m being practical. And isn’t camping something humans do for fun? We should try it.” Cas almost sounded excited.

“What’s fun about getting your balls frozen off?” Dean grunted. He could practically feel Cas roll his eyes at him. “We don’t even have a tent.” 

“I’ll build us a shelter,” Cas said as if it was the easiest thing in the world. “Turn the car around.” 

Dean paused just for a moment, debating about how far he wanted to push it. But Cas had a point. He glanced sideways at Cas and met Cas’s eyes. Damn. He couldn’t say no to his angel no matter how hard he tried. 

Considering Cas wasn’t even his, Dean didn’t know what that made him. Whipped? A sucker? Hopeless? He was sure Sam would use all those terms to describe Dean’s feelings for Cas.

With a dramatic sigh, Dean turned Baby around and drove back to the KOA. It was just after sunset, the barest tint of sunlight just disappearing beneath the trees. 

Dean pulled up to the booth at the entrance, his stomach in knots. He hadn’t been camping since he was five. Hell, he didn’t even have a sleeping bag. But Cas was right. It was worth a shot. 

Dean rolled down the window and was greeted by an unnervingly peppy teenager dressed in a bright yellow shirt, with KOA in red lettering on the shoulder. She grinned at them like it was her purpose in life.

“Hi, welcome! Do you have a reservation?” She spoke in such a way that all her words blended together due to enthusiasm. 

“Uh…” Dean paused. He hadn’t actually thought that part through. How charming did he need to be? Did he need to flirt his way to a campsite? Cas leaned over him, his shoulder tucking into Dean’s chest. 

“Do you have any openings?” Cas asked, suddenly turning into the smooth one in this operation. Dean swallowed, trying not to do anything awkward, like bury his nose in Cas’s neck or something.

The young woman smiled and nodded. “We’re pretty packed tonight, but you guys are lucky. We have one tent site left. How many nights are you wanting to stay?” 

“Just tonight,” Dean grunted, disconcerted by Cas’s… calmness in this whole thing. How was Cas being better at being a human than Dean? 

“That’ll be thirty dollars then,” Peppy-Teen said. Dean passed over the cash and took the map she handed him. 

“Bathrooms are by this building,” she said, circling a spot on the map with a red pen. Cas and Dean watched as she drew a line from the circle to another spot on the map. “This is your campsite.” 

She drew another line from the campsite to what was presumably their current location at the entrance. “Just follow the road to campsite 49. You can’t miss it.” 

“Thank you very much,” Cas said with one of his wide grins, still leaning into Dean like this was something they did every day. Camping, road tripping, just the two of them. 

Dean nodded, smiled - or was it a grimace? - and they bid Peppy-Teen goodnight. Cas pulled away, sitting back in the passenger seat and Dean swallowed down the desire to pull Cas back into his chest. 

Dean drove Baby forward, following the signs, past a playground, the entrance to a lake, what looked like a cafeteria of some sort, a group having a huge bonfire, and finally, three identical mobile homes in a row, to get to site #49. Dean carefully pulled Baby into the parking spot and turned off the motor.

They sat for a moment in perfect silence, the faint singing of some camping song Dean had known a long time ago filtering through the windows. 

“Dean,” Cas said. “Are we going to get out of the car?” 

Dean started, nodded, and opened the door, climbing out of the car. The campsite itself was nice. There was a picnic table, a fire pit, and even an electricity hookup by the parking spot. Not too bad, Dean thought to himself. If they even had camping gear. Or actually went camping. 

It took Dean a moment to realize that Cas was bustling around the campsite gathering sticks and twigs like he was burrowing in for winter. Or planning a massive bonfire of their own. 

“Cas, what’re you doing?” Dean asked, still frozen by the driver’s door. 

“We’ll build an A-frame,” Cas said, passing a bundle of sticks to Dean. “There’s that tarp in the trunk and I think Sam tucked a safety blanket in the glovebox. We’ll use those as insulation and for something to sleep on. With a small fire at the entrance, we should be nice and warm.” 

“Did you take a survival class or something?” Dean asked, still standing still. Maybe it was shock preventing his feet from moving and not the battle of distinct, sentimental emotions from when he was five piling onto his heart after too long of being ignored. 

Cas nodded vaguely. “Online.” 

“Huh,” Dean said. Cas took classes online? What else did Dean not know… first the garden, now online classes? 

Cas bustled about a little longer, piling up sticks and twigs and moss at Dean’s feet like a pyre. Finally, he put the last bundle down on the ground and stood with his hands on his hips, looking pleased with himself. 

“So,” Dean said, clearing his throat, “how does all this become a tent?” 

Cas grinned good-naturedly at Dean. “I’ll show you.”

And that was how Dean learned to build an emergency shelter. Which, honestly, was something he should have earned from his dad considering he grew up on the road. Why hadn’t they ever camped? It had been something his parents loved. 

Cas walked Dean through setting up the A-frame, then draping piles of sticks, twigs, leaves and moss over it to essentially form a natural tent. There was just enough room for the two of them to sleep side by side. 

They built the A-frame close to the fire pit. Dean ran back to Baby’s trunk to grab lighting fluid and matches, piling up wood in the fire pit with no finesse. A hand on his arm stopped him from pouring the whole bottle of lighting fluid on the pile. 

“Actually,” Cas said, his eyes sparkling, “I want to try lighting a fire with just the matches.” 

He looked so giddy and excited, Dean just handed him the matches. 

It took several tries and a lot of twigs, but eventually, they had a comfortable fire. They sat side by side on a log, munching on apple muffins Dean had made with apples from Cas’s garden. Dean felt Cas’s heat all along his side and whenever their shoulders brushed, Dean fought the urge to just lean into Cas without reservation. 

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said into the silence. “For humoring me.” 

Dean shrugged and this time their shoulders stayed touching. “It’s no problem, Cas.” 

And it wasn’t, not really. Sitting out by a fire, watching the stars, getting to just be, with Cas, for once. Maybe it wasn’t as hard as Dean thought. Maybe getting to where he wanted to be with Cas, with them together, didn’t have to be as insurmountable or as impossible as he feared. Sam did tell him to just talk to Cas, to just be himself and let some of his walls down.

Dean swallowed. He could try. 

“I…” Dean started, twisting fingers together, “I haven’t been camping since my mom was alive. I forgot how nice it can be.” 

Cas didn’t reply right away. Dean could feel Cas looking at him, digesting his statement and all it meant. Cas leaned a bit more into Dean’s shoulder and carefully rested a hand on Dean’s knee. A knot undid itself in Dean’s heart. 

“It is,” Cas said, his voice warming Dean down to his toes. “It’s very nice indeed.”

Read the whole fic as I post chapters throughout Suptober on AO3! Link in comments. :)

#suptober21 #Destiel #Destiel fanfic #camping #kampgrounds of america #building fire #stargazing #bonding over muffins #fluff

[jadedxrealityw]

-Chapstick- Pansy Parkinson x Female Reader

    ☼-☪-☼

   Kody: the lesbians have risen

  Request: pansy x reader where they are friends & reader loves chapsticks very much because chapped lips also the taste and the smell are cute ?? and then she has different variants of it. Pans could smell it sometimes when she purposely gets closer, got curious one time and asked for it and she casually gave it. One time Pans asked what flavour was the one on her lips right now because it's different from the usual??? and reader was like see for yourself and then they ki- IM SO GAY FOR PANSY PARKINSON - 💐

  House: Slytherin

  Possible Triggers / Warnings: lesbian power couple baby, cursing, y/n being a bottom, making out. 

    ☼-☪-☼

   since day one you had been best friends with Pansy Parkinson. Even in your small little friend group that consisted of Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott, you just gravitated towards Pansy more. Maybe it was because you were both girls or the fact that you had met her first.

   throughout your school years you and Pansy were like a power duo. Some were scared, some wanted your title, and the rest despised you both. Even with all the popularity you weren’t mean or cude to people who didn’t deserve it. Kill them with kindness is what you’d always say.

   around your 6th year is when you enveloped your slight chapstick addiction. You had noticed your lips become more flaking and chapped as you grew up so over the summer when you visited america you bought a pack with a variety of different flavors. 

   Pansy made fun of you at first because of how quickly you had started to buy more and more until you had a collection. After all the teasing you two developed a sort of game you could say. Anytime Pansy could smell the chapstick on you she would try and guess what scent it was.

   at first it was cute and friendly, but out of nowhere she would grab your face and bring it close to hers so she could smell the chapstick. It would be so sudden and make your stomach twist in a way you had never felt before, especially when she would send you a wink after she backed away. 

   after a lot of thinking and ‘therapy’ sessions with Theo you had come to the conclusion that you had fell for your best friend. It was very cheesy, but it was true. Pansy Parkinson had stolen your heart and you terrified at the power she held over you.

    ☼-☪-☼

   7th year

   you were practically running towards the field, hoping the outfit you chose would keep you warm enough in the nippy weather. You did not want to be late to Draco and Blaises quidditch match against Gryffindor. Of course you cheered on your friends, who wouldn’t?

   you began to climb up the stairs to make your way into the stands. Once you make it to the top you gaze through the crowd and spot the familiar black haired female leaning back to look up at the sky. She looked very focused on something in the sky.

   Pansy was wearing a large black sweater with some kind of white t-shirt sticking out from the bottom with matching black pants and shoes. She looked in casual clothes- in anything really. You make your way through the crowd, pushing past a couple people while mumbling ‘excuse me’ and such.

   you take a seat next to Pansy who looks back down to face you “Thought you weren’t gonna show. You look nice by the way” she comments and you shake your head. You were wearing a black crop with matching pants and a oversized navy blue hoodie. 

   your stomach twist like many times before. “Thanks” you reply before suddenly realizing you were missing a friend “Where’s Theo?” you ask. Pansy lifts up her hand to point in front of her. You follow her finger until you spot the back of Theos head “He wanted to be closer to watch Blaise”

   you nod once before you heard Lee Jordan begin the announcements.

    ☼-☪-☼

   while watching a breeze blew past you and towards Pansy. The Slytherin girls nose scrunched up as she smelled something, something fruity? (because your gay duh) She turns to look at you, brown eyes narrowed. You felt her eyes on you and face her “What?-” 

   Pansy grabs your face with both of her hands. You could feel the cold metal of the rings she wore against your cheek. Pansy leans in close, her nose centimeters from your mouth. You could hear her sniff as your face began to feel hot. 

   she was so close. The smell of hrt minty breath from her gum she had been chewing made everything in your body flare up. It was only a second, but felt like hours before she pulled away “Your wearing strawberry” Pansy had a cocky smirk on her face as she spoke, her hands slowly falling from your face

   you blink mindlessly as you reach into the packet of your jacket. You pull out the tube of strawberry chapstick. Pansy’s smirk only grows wider “Knew it, what's my prize?” she asked. Your face twist a bit. A prize? She had never asked for one before.

   “What do you want?”

   “A Kiss”

   your mouth opens a bit to speak, but you choke on your words instead. Pansy lets out a chuckle and turns to face forward again “I’m only kidding”

    ☼-☪-☼

   you were walking alongside Pansy, Theo, Draco and Blaise. You were all leaving the quidditch field and head back to the common room. Slytherin had won and the team was going out for butterbeer at the three broomsticks. Draco and Blaise had opted out saying they wanted to celebrate with close friends.

   just you guys, how sweet.

   “So- did Y/n and Pans. I flew past you guys and for a brief second and i swore i saw you guys making out” Draco spoke making Blaise and Theo laugh. “You guys were what now? I knew you were close, but no that close damn” Draco adds were made the boys laugh even harder.

   you roll your eyes playfully and walk behind behind Draco. He doesn’t see you as you wack the back of his head “Ow!” he exclaimed. Pansy chuckles “We were not making out by the way. I was smelling her chapstick” she explains. The boys nod and silence consumes you all after that.

   that is until Theo speaks up “That’s still gay”

    ☼-☪-☼

   you all spent the night together, talking, goofing around, and drinking firewhiskey. It was a fun idea at the time, but you all got wasted more than you’d like to admit. Your E/c eyes open slowly and your met with skin? You lift your head up, you were laying on top of Pansy.

   Y/n.exe has stopped working

   she was wearing her black flannel pants as well as her matching sports bra. Your heart might have stopped right then and there. You look down at what you were wearing and noticed you only had your undergarments and Pansy’s sweater that she had worn at the game. 

   before having time to freak the hell out you heard the black haired girl mumble under you “morning” she mumbles, her eyes opening slowly. You give her a half smile before sitting up “Um- how did- how did i end up here?” you ask. Pansy uses her elbows to prop herself up.

   she pushes her bangs from her face. They had began to grow over her eyes, but refused to cut them after you said you liked them longer. “You got a bit tipsy so i brought you here to rest. As well as those three” she says and points to the floor. You raise a brow and crawl to the edge of the bed.

   on the floor was Blaise and Theo cuddling on the ground. Cute. Draco was laying next to Blaise curled up in a ball with a blanket over him. Also cute. “Damn, i guess you played mom for a bit huh?” you joke, sitting back down on the bed. 

   Pansy shrugs her shoulders “You could say that. Your hug things in your sleep, did you know that?”

   “I’m sorry what?”

    ☼-☪-☼

   later in the day you were in your own dorm room studying for an exam in charms you had the next day. While writing down a few notes you heard your door open. You place the quill down and turn in your chair to see Pansy at the door. 

   she had on a black t-shirt with a sheer long sleeve one underneath, black pants with a white dragon that stopped above her ankles and black socks with checkered vans. Pansy had a plate of food in each hand “Theo told me you hadn’t eaten lunch yet so i brought you some.”

   “You look cute by the way” she adds with a wink

   you smile lightly and pat the chair next to yours “I’m guessing you came to eat with me as well?” you ask and she nods, taking a seat. She places the plate of food in front of you and places her down as well. Pansy began to move your textbooks around as you reached into the pocket off your black jeans.

   you pulled out your new chapstick ‘fruit punch’ and took off the cap. You smear it on your bottom lip before popping the cap back on and into your pocket while rubbing both your lips together to apply it evenly. Pansy smells something fruity again and smiles lightly.

   except for this smelt different. Way different. Nothing you had worn before.

   Pansy looks at you as you grab a fork with a amused smirk “New chapstick?” she asked. You noticed her playful tone. Turning in your sea you face Pansy “Maybe, maybe not” you say vaguely, shrugging your shoulders. Pansy rolls her eyes and faces you too.

   like last time she reaches up and grabs your face, pulling it close to hers. You hear her sniff just like before, but this time her eyebrows furrow “What the fuck is that?” she asks, making you laugh quietly “Can’t figure it out?” you tease. Her brown eyes narrow into a glare “Shut up” she hisses.

   what a baby

   Pansy stays like that for a couple seconds before exhaling loudly “What the hell is it” she grumbles. A risky idea popped into your mind in an instant. It was dumb, but you were so tired of just being friends with her. You were willing to risk it all in one question.

   “See for yourself then”

   you couldn’t really remember much between the the couple seconds of silence. All you remember is Pansy’s lips on your feverishly. She leaned into kiss you deeper, making you almost fall out the chair. She was not taking it slow in the slightest.

   As Pansy’s mouth moves against yours she leans down and uses her hands to scoop up your thighs. She lifts you up and you wrap your arms around her waist tightly, making Pansy let out a muffled noise. You felt a hard surface hit your back and assumed Pansy had leant you against the wall.

   Pansy ran her tongue against your bottom lip. You open your mouth slightly for her and Pansy’s tongue slipped into your mouth instantly. You felt a cold piece of metal on your tongue that connected to hers. It took you a second to process what it was.

   she had a tongue piercing

   “You have a tongue piercing?” you ask between hot kisses. You feel her smirk against your lips as one hand traces circles on your exposed stomach. She pulls away for a moment “Yeah. Problem?” she questions, panting slightly. You shake your head quickly “Nope- it’s just really hot”

    ☼-☪-☼

   an hour later

   “You owe me ten galleons” Draco spoke.

   Blaise groans and reaches into his pocket to dig out the money and place it in his hands “Yeah, yeah whatever” he grumbles.

   Theo smiles happily “I’m so happy for them!”

   Draco nods slowly “I’m pretty sure the whole house heard them though”

    ☼-☪-☼

   Taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @sonbelleame @dracosathenaeum @pxroxide-prinxcesss 

    ☼-☪-☼

   Kody- lesbian things lesbian things. Anyways request are open, peace.

#lesbian pansy #pansy parkinson #pansy parkinson x reader #pansy parkinson x you #pansy parkinson x y/n #pansy parkinson x fem!reader #pansy parkinson x female reader #pansy parkinson x slytherin!reader #slytherin #x fem!reader #x female reader #x you #x y/n #x reader #imagine #imagines #oneshot #one shot #one shots #harry potter #harry potter oneshot #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #theodore nott

[unholyobsessions]

K9 Approval

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Description: Spencer starts crushing on the cute dog handler

Requested: Yes 

A/N: Not really falling in love, more of a meet cute but I am considering writing a short blurb as pt2 who knows

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, typical criminal minds stuff

Word Count: 1.8k

Masterlist 

It’s a pretty standard case. Spencer wishes he didn’t have to classify a number of women getting kidnapped and murdered as ‘standard’ but there is nothing particularly strange about it. The good thing (well not exactly good, more like convenient) is that it’s a local case and he is able to go home to his apartment every night. 

When he arrives to the BAU on their third day on the case he knows as soon as he looks at Hotch that this case just became anything but standard. 

“He sent a note,” his boss speaks and all color drains from his face. A note can either be extremely helpful, or extremely dangerous. He rushes to follow Hotch into the round table room where the rest of the team is crowded over a lined sheet of paper. 

I’ve always enjoyed a nice walk in the park. Especially those with lots of trees. Makes it easy to hide from the monsters crawling in the dark. It’s also easy for the monsters to hide their secrets. Can you find my secret? I’ll give you a hint. She’s no longer breathing. 

Spencer’s brain immediately tries to find any codes that could be hidden within the words but comes up with nothing. He picks up the plastic bag the paper is in and starts to read the note again. 

“Reid what can you tell us?” Hotch asks, arms crossed over his chest. 

“There is a lot of abbreviation. I’ve instead of I have. Lots instead of a lot. It’s casual, almost nonchalant. The pen is pressed lightly against the paper, which shows that he was calm as he wrote it. He’s confident, not worried about getting caught.” Spencer explains his findings without looking up. “Garcia are there any parks within the geographical comfort zone?” 

Garcia immediately starts typing away on her computer, not needing to look at the keyboard to click the correct keys. In a matter of seconds she’s speaking the location of two parks, both conveniently placed in the center of the comfort zone. 

“We need to get two teams of search dogs in each park. Morgan, Reid, and Prentiss go to the one on fifth avenue. Rossi and JJ you’re with me at the park on eighth. We need to find her.” 

. . . 

Arriving about twenty minutes later, the park was already crowded with search dogs and their handlers. Spencer crinkled his nose, never particularly excited to work with the dogs. He was vaguely listening to whatever Morgan was saying next to him as he let his eyes scan over the park. 

There were certainly a lot of trees and it seemed like the place children would enjoy playing hide and seek in. It wasn’t huge but it was certainly bigger than the average park and the lack of street lamps surrounding the area would have certainly made it easy for the unsub to sneak around at night. 

As he kept looking over the area, his eyes caught sight of you and the breath was knocked from his lungs. 

You have always loved animals, dogs in particular, and you have known since you were young that you wanted to be able to work with them when you were older. However, eight-year-old you never expected to look for dead bodies for a living, well you look for living people too. And technically you don’t do this for a living, you’re a veterinarian who happens to spend her time volunteering in search and rescue missions. 

The decision to start volunteering as a search dog handler came after a girl in your college went missing. Everything was okay and she was thankfully found unharmed but it was two days of your campus being crowded with search dogs. You talked to one of the officers about the job and after a few short minutes of conversation you were instantly hooked. Five years later and you cannot bring yourself to regret your choice. 

You remember when you got Ash, a gorgeous German Shepard, after your first training session. He was only three months old and the perfect age to start his training. It required you to spend all of your free time playing hide and seek in your small, one bedroom apartment, which is not as fun as it sounds after a few weeks. 

In the end it was all worth it since you are able to help people and it got you a new best friend. 

You walk around the park with a tight hold on Ash’s leash. You got the call about fifteen minutes prior and you are thankful that it is your day off from the vet. You keep your eyes on your dog, making sure to look out for any change in his behavior that may indicate that he found something. 

The small hesitation in his step was enough to make you stop walking. He started rounding one of the trees, sniffing the ground before looking up at you and giving a loud bark. 

You call Hank, one of the members of the team that is carrying the shovel over. “I think we got something.” 

Your voice not only attracted the search team, but also three FBI agents. A few seconds later there was a small crowd gathered around you as Ash used his paws to help Hank dig the hole. Once the body has been uncovered you lead Ash away from the crowd, your hand going into the fanny pack strapped around your waist. 

“Good job,” you say as you kneel next to him. You hold out the treat and he excitedly licks it off your hand. You can’t stop the smile that comes on your face even though it’s not the most appropriate reaction considering the situation. You feel a pair of eyes on you and you look up to see one of the FBI agents staring at you. He looks embarrassed at getting caught and you wave him over. He does so cautiously, keeping his eyes on Ash. 

“Hi,” he says once he gets within speaking distance. You stand up and dust your hands on the fabric of your jeans. 

“Hey, you’re from the BAU right?” You already know that he’s from the BAU, your team leader having had told you so as soon as you arrived. But he’s cute and you need a way to start a conversation. 

“Yes. I’m Dr. Reid. Uh I mean Spencer…you don’t have to call me doctor.” He looks away bashfully and you smile, finding the blush creeping up his neck endearing. 

“Well Spencer, I’m y/n.” You introduce yourself. You notice that he hasn’t taken his eyes off of Ash, who is looking up at you as if waiting for you to introduce him. “Everything okay?” 

“What? Oh yeah it’s just that dogs don’t particularly enjoy my presence. They actually kinda resent it.” He says it so casually and you are sure that this isn’t the first time he’s had to say it. He looks just about ready to run away if the need arises and he does look a tad surprised to see that Ash isn’t attacking him already. 

“Nonsense. Ash is a sweetheart and loves meeting new people. Come on,” you gesture for him to come closer with your hand. What you say is true, however Ash does look a little more vigilant than he usually does, as if he senses a threat in the FBI agent but won’t act upon it without your command. You don’t comment on it though, assuming this will only make Spencer more hesitant. Spencer approaches slowly, afraid that the dog will start barking at him. Once he’s standing next to you, you hear him audibly gulp. “Hold out your hand.” He does as you say, placing his hand out in front of him and toward Ash. 

Ash looks at you for confirmation and at the small nod of your head he leans forward, sniffing the stranger’s hand. Spencer looks completely terrified of the situation and after a few seconds, Ash leans back. Spencer is about to retreat his hand but you stop him, knowing that everything is riding on Ash’s next move. Ash lifts his left paw off the ground and places it on top of Spencer’s hand, barking once and you let out a relived sigh. If he had refused to shake Spencer’s hand and barked twice, it would have been a done deal, because even though you are attracted to him, if Ash disproves then it can’t happen. 

You smile and nudge Spencer slightly. “See, you just got the Ash stamp of approval.” The laugh that leaves his lips makes your heart flutter and you scold yourself. You just met him, get it together. 

You see the grimace on his face once Ash removes his paw and leaves a good amount of dirt on his hand. You reach into the fanny pack and take out a small pack of wipes and a small bottle of hand sanitizer, always prepared. He looks grateful at the items, immediately taking a wipe and running it against his palm. Once he’s done he turns back to look at you. Ash has settled down at your feet, happily wagging his tail and sniffing Spencer’s shoes. 

“Does this stamp of approval allow me to ask for your number?” He asks it so casually and it is such a contrast from the shy man a few second before that it takes you completely by surprise. It takes a second for your brain to properly process the question and now you are the one stuttering. Once it catches up, you turn to him with a grin. 

“Definitely.” You grab your phone from your pocket and hand it to him and he does the same, both of you typing your contact information. You stare at each other with matching grins but are inevitably broken out of your daze by a voice calling out for Spencer. 

“Reid, Hotch wants us back at the BAU. You can flirt with the pretty dog handler later.” The dark skinned agent yells across the park.

Spencer blushes furiously and turns back to you, barely stuttering out, “I have to go.” 

You nod your head in understanding. “I’ll talk to you later Spencer.” 

“Definitely.” You are pleasantly surprised when he leans down and pets Ash a couple times. “Bye Ash.” 

You keep looking at him as he walks away, too distracted to notice the new presence beside you. 

“Got a date?” Hank asks. 

You shove his shoulder, trying to feign annoyance but the large smile on your face betrays you. “Shut up.” Ash barks up at you, seemingly wanting to join in on the teasing and Hank laughs, lowering his hand to high five Ash. “I hate both of you,” you reply with a frown. 

Your façade breaks when your phone chimes with a new notification. You grin at the screen, the text sending butterflies to your stomach. 

Want to get coffee on Saturday? 

Tilting your phone away from the prying eyes of your team leader and furry friend, you type out a reply. 

It’s a date

#spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #mgg #mgg blurb #mgg x reader #mgg drabble #mgg imagine #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #Mathew Gray Gubler #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine

[agoldengalaxy]

deny, deny, deny

read on Ao3

5 times someone told Sam and Bucky they cared about each other, and the 1 time they showed it.

--

1.

“You two bicker a lot,” Dr. Raynor says, eyeing the two men who sit, fuming, on the other side of her desk. “If you won’t speak to each other, then tell me this, instead. James, why would you ignore Sam’s texts?”

Bucky grumbles something under his breath. Sam seems genuinely curious to hear the answer. Raynor glares until Bucky sighs and repeats himself, staring at the floor. “Didn’t wanna bother ‘im.”

“What? I was the one texting you, Bucky! Why would I -”

“Just drop it, Sam.”

“…Fine.”

Folding her hands on her desk, Raynor sighs. She can’t be certain, but Bucky has been her client for a few months now, and she knows it takes a long time for him to tell the truth. In this case, however, she thinks the truth is there, as a small part of it. The way that the tips of his ears redden tell her that there must be more to it.

She isn’t blind. She has a feeling she might know that answer. So she leans forward a little. “Good. Thank you for that answer, James.” Her gaze slides to Sam, whose arms are crossed over his chest as he looks toward the wall. “How does that make you feel, Sam?”

He scoffs. “After everything I’ve done for him, he still -”

“You shouldn’t have given up the shield, Sam.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Gentlemen, please,” Raynor interrupts, feeling a headache coming on. She blows out a breath. “You’re both big boys now. You can handle this -“ she gestures vaguely, because she knows that they don’t quite understand yet, “- if you just talk to each other. Emotions are powerful things, you can’t ignore them forever.”

Bucky groans. Sam huffs.

They don’t get it. She’s not sure she wants to see them flounder, but she should put it out there, anyway. She leans forward. “Emotions including love, that you may have buried deep below.”

For a split second, she is met with stunned silence, before they both erupt, loudly. Denying, denying, denying, pushing the feelings down even deeper than they had been before despite the way that they fluster.

It’s okay, she tells herself. Deep breath in and out. They’ll accept it soon, someday.

Still, she shakes her head, effectively cutting them off. “No matter what kind of love it is, you care about each other. And that’s the bottom line. Once you cross it, things’ll be a whole lot easier.”

Sam looks at his lap, blinking. Bucky’s cheeks flush pink.

Raynor needs a drink.

2.

“This is really easy for you, isn’t it? All that serum runnin’ through your veins.” John hates the man standing in front of him. Maybe, in another life, they could have been friends. But the stubbornness just pisses him off, so he goes for Bucky’s weakness. He knows Bucky can take being insulted, but there is one thing he won’t accept. “Barnes, your partner needs backup in there.”

He watches Bucky’s cold stare waver, if only for a moment. John takes that opportunity to stand his ground, glancing behind Bucky, to that open door he wants to go through so desperately. Karli is right there, and the only thing standing in his way now is Barnes, and his stupid loyalty to Sam.

Bucky thinks so highly of Sam, he doesn’t have any other choice but to use that one weakness.

So they lock eyes again. “I know you care about him. Do you really want his blood on your hands?”

Beside him, Lemar shifts his weight from one foot to the other as Bucky looks down for a split second. John knows what it’s like. He’d never leave Lemar behind, though he knows with Sam and Bucky, things are a little different. He can feel Zemo’s eyes boring into them now, clearly amused. They wait.

Bucky’s jaw is clenched, every inch of him now rigid. John knows the feeling, and knows perhaps it might have been unfair to put him in that position; he knows he would stop at nothing if it were his wife in that room. That’s almost the equivalent of what Bucky must have been thinking.

But the ends justify the means.

Drawing in a sharp breath, Bucky turns around, his shoulders still tight, and John exchanges a look with Lemar as he speaks. “You’re right. We should help him.”

John’s grip on the shield tightens. Lemar grins. “Maybe you should tell him how you feel,” he suggests as they start up the stairs.

Bucky ignores them both, readying for the fight.

3.

“Super soldiers cannot be allowed to exist.”

“Isn’t that how gods talk?” Sam asks, cool and collected as ever. “And if that’s how you feel, then what about Bucky?”

Zemo carefully removes the ice pack from his forehead, weighing it in his hand as he sits up. He doesn’t know how to feel about Bucky just yet. For now, that question doesn’t have an answer. For now, Steve Rogers is the only exception, and he can’t imagine that changing anytime soon.

Still, he has to have some kind of fun, right?

So he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, tilting his head to get a better look at the man sitting at the table, and shrugs. “Why don’t you tell me?”

Sam blinks, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“Come now, Sam, I always thought you were an intelligent individual,” he replies, only slightly teasing. He does like Sam. He’s righteous, level-headed, and doesn’t make any stupid decisions. Except, perhaps, the person he might have chosen to love. “What do you think of James?”

“Is this a trick question?”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

Nodding, the other smiles and looks down, gathering his thoughts. “I think he’s annoyin’ as hell,” he answers slowly. “But...he’s passionate, smart, a big softie deep down...and he always does the right thing even though he’s hurting, too.” He pauses, then adds, “I still can’t tell if breakin’ you out of jail counts as the right thing, though.”

Zemo smirks, leaning back a little, tossing the ice pack from one hand to the other. “You know, when I first met my wife, she hated my guts.”

“Can’t say I blame her, Zemo.”

He chuckles, somewhat sadly, then continues. “These fights that you and James have, over the small things, they are nothing more than just couple’s quarrels.”

Sam’s eyes widen and he turns to look at him fully, as if he’s lost his mind. “What the hell are you talkin’ about? Bucky and I are just -”

“Just what, Sam?” Zemo tilts his head, as if challenging him. This is exactly the reaction he had been hoping for. It isn’t often the calm and collected Sam Wilson loses his cool, and Zemo likes to know he’s one of the ones who can get a rise out of him. “Friends, partners, all these terms you both throw around…” He thinks back to that look on Bucky’s face when John had challenged him, and his smile returns. “Perhaps you ought to think about what you truly want.”

And okay, maybe it isn’t just wanting to get a reaction from Sam. Maybe Zemo has seen the good in both of them, and thinks, perhaps, they ought to be happy, for once. His own partner is long gone, but it isn’t too late for Sam and Bucky.

Sam opens his mouth to respond, but he is cut off by the heavy sound of the door opening, and he immediately falls silent as Bucky walks in, with news that the Dora Milaje are after Zemo. Although Sam recovers quickly, staring at his laptop, Zemo side-eyes him, wondering if he might be blushing.

So Zemo stands up, shaking his head. How juvenile.

4.

Sarah leans against the truck, wiping sweat from her forehead. It’s been hours, and she still can’t believe Sam has managed to pull off receiving this much help. She knows their parents did a lot of favors, but she never could have imagined it would pay off this much one day.

She’s already made up her mind. She can’t sell this boat. It means so much to her, and to Sam.

Her gaze drifts toward the dock, where Bucky is helping Sam carry some things to Carlos. She’s almost certain they’re bickering again, but as they walk, their shoulders almost touch. Sam smiles. It’s something she hadn’t realized she had missed so much.

Seeing her brother smile, and seeing the reason for that smile, is all the evidence she needs to agree to let Bucky crash on her couch. The sun is already dipping closer and closer to the horizon, and she knows people will begin returning home soon. Personally, she has to get the boys to bed. But she lets herself enjoy this moment as long as she can.

When Sam and Bucky place down their loads, Sarah whistles, getting their attention to wave Sam over. Bucky seems to think about following, but is soon distracted by AJ and Cass, excited to meet their uncle’s ‘cool friend.’ Sam chuckles as he tells them to behave, then makes his way over to his sister, a huge grin on his face.

“What’d I tell you? I knew we could make it work,” he says, spreading his hands. Just as confident as ever, she supposes. She rolls her eyes, but for some reason, she can’t stop smiling, and his grin fades a little. “What’re you lookin’ at me like that for?”

Sarah shakes her head. “Nothing. I just missed seeing you so happy,” she admits, because although they tease each other, although they bicker, she loves him. She has no trouble admitting she cares. Seeing the confusion on his face, she hops up to sit on the back of the truck, folding her hands in her lap. “You were gone. For a really long time. And that’s okay, I know what you had to do.” A pause. “When you came back all sad-puppy-dog in the rain that first night, my heart broke. I guess I’m just trying to say I’m glad my brother’s back.”

There’s another pause until Sam comes to sit beside her, so that their shoulders touch. He nods. “It’s been a rough couple years,” he murmurs, and she nods. It has been for both of them.

They gaze at the boys, who are excitedly coaxing Bucky to flex his metal arm, who has a confused look on his face as per usual. Sarah rests her head on Sam’s shoulder, just grateful to know she’s no longer so alone. And then she sits up, turning to face him.

“But enough of that sappy stuff,” she says. “Tell me about Bucky.”

He groans. “Don’t tell me his awful attempt at flirting was actually successful.”

“What?” Pulling a face, she shakes her head. “No, not that. Tell me about him. A guy that makes you smile that much is probably one worth keepin’ around.” She nudges his shoulder and he chuckles a little, his gaze returning to the man in question.

“You’re the second person who’s asked me about him recently.” He seems to collect his thoughts for a moment. “...He reminds me a lot of Riley, sometimes.”

Sarah nods, having expected something like that. “Is it the same?” Sam and Riley had always been close, but she had never seen them get physically close the way that Sam and Bucky did. Sam shakes his head.

“Some things are better. Some things are...more annoying.”

“It’s okay,” she assures, patting his shoulder as she slides off the truck to stand up. “In case you were wonderin’, I still know everything, and I also happen to know he feels exactly the same about you. He cares about you, and I know you care, too, so it’s up to you to do somethin’ with it.” She grins as a stunned look appears on his face, walking away before he can even think of something to reply with.

She hopes they can get their heads out of their asses and realize it. After all, having Bucky around could be pretty helpful.

5.

“I’m sorry for how things ended down there.” A lie. “But for what it’s worth, suit looks good on you.”

Things had gotten dangerously close for Sharon. Too close. Luckily, though, Sam and Bucky haven’t found out the truth. If they had...well, she doesn’t want to think about what she would have to do if that were the case.

But here he is, their new Captain America, standing there in front of her with a soft chuckle and a slight nod. “Thanks.”

“All right, look, can we get out of here, please?” Bucky interjects, sounding...somewhat annoyed, for some reason. Her abdomen hurts terribly, but it’s not like she can’t handle a single gunshot wound. Still, standing around probably isn’t going to do her any good, so she nods and lets Bucky guide her.

They walk in silence for a little while until she looks at him. His gaze is fixed ahead, maybe lost in thought about something. Her eyes narrow a little. “What was that all about?”

“What was what all about?”

“I mean, you basically cut Sam off. Why’d you wanna leave so bad?” Her interest is peaked when she notices that, despite the fact that his expression barely changes, his ears redden.

Bucky clears his throat. “In case you forgot, you’re kind of bleeding out here, Sharon.”

She huffs. “I told you, I’m fine.” Watching him for a moment, she attempts to piece the puzzle together. His eyes hadn’t left Sam since he returned with Karli’s body. Back at her apartment, he’d seemed almost angry when she had complimented Sam without his shirt on. It dawns on her and she smirks. “Oh, don’t tell me you have a crush.”

His ears redden further. She guessed right.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I like you?” Deflecting the accusation and dissing her all in one go. She’s almost impressed.

“We both know I’m not talking about myself.” She grabs his arm, and they both stop walking. He won’t look her in the eye. “Hey, it’s okay, all right? Your secret’s safe with me.” Of course, unless he gets in her way. That’s a bridge she’ll cross if it comes to it. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s a great candidate for you.”

Bucky frowns, shaking his head a little. “...I don’t wanna talk about this.”

Sighing, she nods. “Of course you don’t. Look, you should just go for it. What do you have to lose?”

A flicker of pain flashes across his face. “Everything,” he mumbles, almost inaudibly.

“Sam wouldn’t leave you if he didn’t feel the same. You shouldn’t hide from him.” She winces, then, not quite sure why she’s giving him advice. If he knew the truth, he’d have left her to die. But she doesn’t dwell on that, feeling his hand on her arm to ground her, and they begin walking again.

Bucky doesn’t say anything else, and neither does Sharon. She might have gone down a different path a long time ago, but she still thinks they both deserve to be happy.

Unless, of course, they get in her way.

+1

It’s late when Bucky comes to Sam’s door, knocking quietly before opening it to stand in the doorway, offering a beer out to him. “Fresh air?”

Sam accepts, and they walk outside together, footsteps sounding in tandem on the empty dock. A fresh sea breeze whips past, but not enough for either of them to get cold, the smell of salt filling their noses and the last couple cries of the seagulls before they settle in for the night.

They stop in front of the boat, admiring the work they had done on it together. Sam breaks the silence first. “Thanks for helpin’ out. With everything.”

Bucky looks at him and nods. “You’re welcome.” A pause. “It’s nice here, you know. Quiet. Nothing like New York.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Yeah, I think it is.”

They gaze at each other for a moment before turning to their bottles. Silence is filled by the quiet crashing of waves in the distance. There’s a tension there that hadn’t been there before; an unspoken understanding of the situation.

Sam looks at Bucky, noticing the way the shadows under his eyes look a little lighter than they had been before. Bucky’s jaw is clenched, showcasing the stubble he’s been letting grow out, and Sam can’t help but think he looks princely.

And Bucky looks at Sam, at the way the moonlight so perfectly etches his features, his eyes bright as they stare back at him. He remembers the way Sam’s eyes crinkle when he smiles, how he reminds him of a sunshine that had pulled him from the deep, dark abyss he had been stuck in after Steve left.

They aren’t sure how long they’ve been standing there, quietly. Two words tear from Bucky’s throat, like he has no choice in the matter. “Sam, I…-”

Instead of answering, Sam steps closer, cupping one of Bucky’s cheeks, smashing their lips together. It’s rough but sweet.  Sam tastes like vanilla. Bucky tastes like beer. And nothing has ever felt so right before.

Sam pulls away and chuckles. “I hope that was what you were gonna say.”

Bucky smiles, though his face is bright red, placing a hand on Sam’s hip to pull him closer. “Somethin’ like that. Want to say it again?”

“I like that idea.”

They suppose they can put the promise of ‘going their separate ways’ on hold for a little while.

#marvel #mcu #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #they're in love but stubborn your honor #anyways #everyone knew they were in love even before they admitted it ty #my writing #agoldengalaxy #my post

[let-love-run-red]

Bro, those two garcello fics were amazing. Absolutely stunning!. Also hi I'm panic anon, one of the ones who suggested the mercello story. I guess I'll be the one giving you fantasy themed requests lol. Maybe a story with a s/o explorer gets herself caught in a mess when she runs into naga! Garcello and naga! Annie? Like they tried to eat her until she explains what she's doing, gar softens up about it and they both learn about humans while she learns about them? It'd be real cool if ya did this

Hi panic anon! It's nice to meet you, this one was a lot of fun, and a bit challenging because I had never heard of Naga's before now haha, I hope you enjoy it!

***

Nobody had been in this part of the forest in centuries. The locals had stories of an ancient temple, hidden somewhere in the jungle, swallowed by the trees and slowly being reclaimed by nature. They told tales of fearsome guardians of the temple, giant snakes that could swallow the moon whole  and with enough venom in one fang to kill a herd of elephants.

But the people here were superstitious, and their stories of ancient beasts never held any water. However there was evidence in old texts that the temple existed, and that was the reason you were out here. You had been in this jungle for days on end, trekking during dusk and dawn, resting during the deepest parts of night and hottest parts of the day.

You began to see evidence of the temple. Cracked stones that could be a road, pillars what were definitely man made, and large tracks in the dirt that could be from someone dragging stone through the dirt long ago. You were so close to finding it, but it would have to wait until morning.

***

When you woke you weren't in your camp. It took you a moment to register that you weren't ticked safely in your tent, but rather hanging, upside down, from somewhere. You panicked for a moment, letting out a distressed sound and trying to pull your hands free. They were tied tightly behind your back and through your belt while you hung by your feet.

"What, what's happening?" You mumbled to yourself, looking up, well, down, towards the ground. There were those same strange tracks on the ground below you and you heard a low growling sound.

"What do you want?" You heard a strange voice ask. You looked around yourself as well as you could and saw someone hanging upside down next to yourself. He had teal green hair and soft brown eyes. But he wasn't tied, instead he had his arms crossed in front of him as he tilted his head.

"Why are you here?" He asked. You cleared your throat. You were starting to get a headache from being upside down so long.

"I, I was just," You looked down, or up, to where you were tied and looked to him expecting to see the same sort of vines holding him up. Instead what you saw shocked you.

He was a snake, from the waist down he had no legs. Where he should have legs like any normal person there was instead a long muscular snake body covered in black scales with green diamonds down his back. He was looped around the same large pillar you were hanging from. He was so large that his tail draped on the ground beneath you. You pulled yourself back and your mouth dropped open.

"W-what are you?" You asked, trying desperately to free your hands. He let out a deep chuckle and dropped down from the pillar, landing on the ground below. He had chains looped around his waist that jingled against his scales and he circled you, his head now level with yours.

"I'm one of the guardians of this temple," He bared his teeth, huge fangs that glowed green with venom, "and you are trespassing." He hissed in your face. You squeezed your eyes shut and grimaced, trying to pull yourself back. This was it, you should have heeded the warning of the locals. But, naga's? You had only heard vague myths of them, there wasn't even an inkling of him existing.

"Garcello?" Another voice called from somewhere within the temple. He paused and turned around and another person, no, naga, appeared around the corner. She was younger, with dark hair and red scales with the same black diamond patterns down her back. She turned to see you hanging from the pillar and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Garcello." She said with a bit of bite in her voice. His shoulders slumped and he rolled his eyes.

"Annie." He greeted her with the same level of bite. She moved closer and reached up, untying your hands from behind your back. He scowled and she turned to face him. You tried to focus on keeping your breathing and heartbeat as calm as you could.

"Untie her legs." Annie said to him. Garcello crossed his arms and lifted his chin.

"She got too close to the temple, Annie we're supposed to be Guardians." He said. His tail dragged across the floor, almost as if he was agitated, and his scales rattled against the stones. Annie sighed and reached up, trying to reach the ropes on your ankles.

"Garcello, there is nothing left here to protect." She said softly as she fell back to her usual height. She approached the other naga and rested her hand gently on his shoulder. He let out a huff, uncrossing his arms and approaching you. He reached up and untied your legs, catching you as you fell and flipping you upright to set you on your feet.

You had to pause and tried to steady yourself. You stumbled back, tripping over his tail and landing draped over his back. He was warm for a snake, you doubted he would have to bask like normal reptiles to keep himself warm, which explained why nobody had seen either of them. They likely lived underground. Under the temple. You took a moment and steadied yourself while laying over his back. He allowed it, although begrudgingly. You finally stood and he moved his body so that it coiled around you. Not tightly, just enough that to leave you would have to step over him.

"Are you alright now?" He asked. You nodded, regretting it as you felt dizzy almost immediately. You stumbled again and nearly fell backwards when he tightened his tail and caught you, holding you upright.

"I'm sorry, we're supposed to guard this temple." Annie said, folding her hands in front of her. "You're the first person to find it in years." She finished. You nodded, slowly this time, resting your hands on Garcello's tail around your waist. You took a deep breath and Garcello loosened his tail, letting it drop back to the ground.

"I'm just an explorer, I just wanted to see it. And document it, it's a big part of the history of this culture." You explained. Annie nodded and looked to Garcello. He made a low clicking sound in the back of his throat and she returned the sound before looking back to you.

"We can make you a deal," She said. "you're the first person here in over a century, and we've never met a human before." She continued. You paused, looking between she and Garcello.

"We'll take you around the temple, if you agree to teach us about humans." He said, moving so he was next to Annie. You were wary. He had kidnapped you, tied you up, and now they were going to release you, when you'd done nothing. You nodded your agreement, clearing your throat.

"I can do that." You said. Annie and Garcello smiled, though Garcello quickly let his face fall to normal as he scratched the stubble on his chin.

"But," You started. Annie's smile faded as she tilted her head. "I need you to take me back and let me pack up my camp." You continued. Annie and Garcello tilted their heads and looked to each other in confusion.

"I don't feel right, just leaving all my things in the jungle. They don't belong there." You shook your head. Garcello smiled and approached you, stopping so he was next to you.

"I'll take you back there then. Let's go."

#let-love-run-red #garcello request #garcello ask #garcellofnf #garcello fanfiction #garcello x female reader #garcello x you #garcello friday night funkin' #garcello supremacy #garcello my beloved #garcello #garcello x reader #garcello fnf #fnf garcello #garcello friday night funkin #garcello mod #garcello smoke em out struggle #friday night funkin garcello #rip garcello #friday night funkin #smoke em out struggle #naga!garcello #garcello and annie #platonic garcello & annie #garcello and annie platonic #garcello & annie #annie fnf #annie mod #naga!annie

[kuroopaisen]

the in-between | i (kuroo tetsurou)

➵  it took you and kuroo 24,000 words and 69 pages of pure behemoth far too long to learn that love was never singularly defined. it can be both striking and understated, sudden and unhurried, gentle and all-consuming. and most of all, it can be anything else in-between.

wc: 9k (part 1 of 3)

warnings: f!reader, good old f2l (do i write anything else?), depictions of anxiety & depression, cursing

 a/n: i cannot thank @w-yuren enough for all the love and care she poured into beta-ing this :( i’m honestly so touched you worked through this absolute monstrosity w me (and put up w my incoherence) ren u deserve the world <3 (also @jupiturde erin ilysm thank you for reading this over So Many times you’re incredible!!) 

m. list | ch. 1 ↠ ch. 2 

"I'll help you," Kuroo sighed. "On one condition."

The scant bit of confidence you’d worked up was starting to crumble. You clenched your fists, steeling yourself. At this point, you're willing to do just about anything.

"Manage the volleyball team for a while."

Your face fell. "What, really?"

"Mhm," Kuroo nodded, still slouched over his desk.

"You're kidding, right?"

He shook his head. "Nuh-uh."

This wasn't quite how you’d expected the situation to go. And quite frankly, you were just upset that you were even in this situation in the first place. But, who wouldn't be?

Begging Kuroo Tetsurou to help you with chemistry wasn’t a situation you’d envisioned yourself ending up in. But, something had to be done about those abysmal exam marks. Your grades in everything else were fine; good, even. Certainly high enough to earn you your spot in Class 5. But that chemistry grade was something to be concerned about. Your homeroom teacher had warned you as much on the very first day of the school year.

And for the handful of weeks since, you’d been driving yourself mad trying to think of a solution. Hard work had only gotten you so far, and none of your friends felt they were competent enough to tutor you. You needed help – desperately.

So there you stood, in front of the desk of a boy you’d never had a proper conversation with before, asking for his help – all while uncomfortably aware that this was cutting into his lunch break.

You hadn’t quite known what to expect from this interaction. You weren't really friends, after all; you’d been vaguely aware of him over this past year and a bit, but knew little, if anything, about him. All you knew was that he was topping the grade when it came to chemistry, and therefore, turning to him in this time of need might help.

You hadn't expected this ultimatum.

"Why?"

It was a genuine question.

"Hm?"

"Why ask me to be your manager?" You asked, tilting your head at him. "I know nothing about volleyball."

"You'll learn."

You frowned. "This is the only way you'll tutor me?"

"It's not the only way," Kuroo shrugged, raising an eyebrow at you. "But it'd certainly bump it up my priority list."

The worst thing was that it didn't even seem like he was trying to be a dick.

Right, you thought. Pros and cons.

Cons: being a manager would eat up a lot of your time. Presumably. Maybe. You didn't have any real idea.

Also, it would mean spending a lot more time around sweaty boys. That sounded kind of gross.

And what time did practice finish? Walking home after sunset was always a little scary. Certainly scary enough to stoke a bit of anxiety.  

More importantly, it sounded like responsibility. Maybe you were overestimating just what being a manager meant, but it sounded like there was plenty of stuff you could mess up.

Pros: it'd look really, really good on your college applications.

Just like a passing chemistry grade would. Which you weren't going to get all on your own.

“It doesn’t have to be for long,” he offered, raising an eyebrow at you. “Just a couple of months. And I’ll be your resource to use as you please.”

You blinked at him, baffled at his choice of phrasing.

“How about you just drop by practice this afternoon?” He suggested, balancing his chin on his fist. “You can get a feel for it.”

You sighed.

“Alright.”

You were willing to do just about anything, after all.

✧ ✧ ✧

Teenage boys, no matter how polite or kind or accommodating, are always scary in packs.

That little revelation came to mind as you pressed yourself meekly against the wall of the gym, watching a gaggle of boys running back and forth, jumping and hitting and shouting. Part of you wanted to melt into the wall, hoping that none of these giants would pay you much attention.  

You’re painfully aware of one of them staring at you; a first-year, judging by his use of honorifics. He’s tallish, but not enough to be scary, with close-cropped hair and grumpy eyebrows. There’s a certain intensity to him – he seemed like the sort of person with too much tenacity for his own good. 

And yet, he seemed terrified of you. Was he the sort of boy who couldn’t talk to girls?

You smiled to yourself. Such dichotomy in one personality, huh?

There was another boy that caught your eye. A quiet one, with chin-length black hair who seemed to want to sink into the ground. He didn’t look like the sort of boy you’d expect to find on a high school sports team. He was a little shorter than everyone else – except for Yaku, who’d greeted you quite amiably when you’d first arrived.  

But Yaku seemed like he wanted to be there. Like he enjoyed it. This kid? He looked like he just wanted to melt into the shadows. He always flinched whenever anyone called out to him. Hell, he seemed to flinch even when someone so much as looked at him. Was he okay? Should you ask if he’s okay? Should you point him out to Kuroo? But Kuroo had already spoken to him a few times…

Well, checking in with people’s well-being would be part of your job as a manager, right? It’d be your duty to make sure that the club members were doing okay. 

But practice was still going. You’d have to put a pin in that thought.  

The third years were frightening, as expected. But, you felt as though your upperclassmen would always be somewhat scary. The captain had traded a handful of words with you – hellos, nice to meet yous, a what are you even doing here – but he hadn’t made any particular point to help you out.

That job was left to the coach, who, thankfully, seemed quite kind. You had said very little to him, but you could tell that he loved his job just from the serene smile that graced his face as he watched his team go at it.  

Practice was over before you knew it. The sun was setting outside the windows, the sky blushing orange. You bit your lip. Maybe you’d be able to get home before it got too dark…

You sighed, turning your gaze back to the gym floor. Maybe you should try talking to one of the boys… Yaku had always been friendly. Maybe he’d tolerate a conversation with you? Oh, what about Kai? He’d been very quiet, but he seemed nice… There was Kuroo, too…

You pressed your lips together, eyes scanning over the gaggle of boys in front of you as your mind ran through the pros and cons all at once.

You frowned. The third years were yapping at that quiet boy; whatever they were saying, it didn’t seem exactly friendly. You froze. Should you do something? Was this normal? Was it a problem? He looked terrified – not that he showed it outright, but it was in his eyes.

Kuroo was standing behind him, saying something to one of the third years. You couldn’t quite hear them, but Kuroo’s expression was… cold. Not confrontational, just unyielding. Whatever he’d said, the third years stalked away.

You watched closely as Kuroo’s expression softened as he looked at the shorter boy. He looked concerned. Were they friends?

“Oi, manager chick!”

You cringed. It’s one of the third years – not the captain, but someone you’d noted had quite the nasty serve.

“Help clean up!”

“Right!” You gave a quick half-bow, your head flicking around almost frantically as you looked for something to do.  

You settled for collecting stray balls, rushing them back to the ball bins. All the while you watched the sky darken beyond the gym windows – and with it, your anxiety began to blossom.

By the time you were picking up your bag to go home, the sky was positively black. You bit your lip as you stared out the gym windows, your eyebrows a little furrowed.

“Hey.”

You looked up, a little startled. Kuroo, forehead slick with sweat and cheeks tinged red from exertion. You resisted the urge to scrunch up your nose. Being this close to a sweaty teenage boy wasn’t high on your priorities list.

“What’d you think?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck with a towel.

You shrugged. “Seems intense.”

“But you don’t hate it, right?” He smiled. It’s hopeful. Almost pitifully so.

You bit the inside of your cheek. In truth, you didn’t. There’s something quite fun about watching them play volleyball up close. They all got so into it. It was always nice, watching people care about something so deeply that enjoyment seeped through every part of their being.

“We’ll see,” you said. “Maybe I’ll come back tomorrow.”

He smiled brightly at that half-promise. Brightly enough that you knew you didn’t want to let him down.

This side of him was already a far cry from that trickster-like figure you’d negotiated with this morning.

“Hey, uh…” He cleared his throat, one hand finding its way to the back of his head. “I was wondering… did you need me to walk you home? I know it’s getting kind of late, so…”

You felt something that’s not quite elation, but certainly a bit more intense than relief. Tokyo’s a safe enough place, yes, but that fact’s never enough to quell the anxiety you’d always felt from walking home in the dark.

“If it’s not too much trouble.” You tried to make your smile look relaxed and natural, but you knew some hint of tension had made its way in there.

“Cool,” Kuroo said, giving you a little nod as his eyes scanned your face. He relaxed his shoulders a bit, slouching down a little. Was he… trying to make himself smaller? “But, uh… where do you live?”

By some miracle, it’s not all that far from his place. You caught the relief on his face, even if he made an effort to hide it. Would he really have walked you all the way to your house, even if it wasn’t in the same area?

He didn’t give you time to think about it, turning around and waving a hand in the air.

“Hey, Kenma!”

Your brows rose instinctively as the shy kid scurried over, head hunched down and hands stuffed into his pockets.

“This is Kenma,” Kuroo smiled, nodding at him. “He’s my next-door neighbour.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you smiled, tilting your head at him.

“Yeah,” Kenma nodded in a quiet response, not quite able to meet your eyes. You didn’t press it. You offered him your name quickly, a bit like an afterthought, but Kenma gave you a little nod in recognition.

“You guys ready to go?” Kuroo looked between the both of you, tilting his head at the door.

You glanced over at Kenma. He didn’t glance back.

“Yeah,” you nodded, relieved that you wouldn’t have to walk the dark streets on your own.

✉

[YOU] 7:21 PM: hello! Is this kuroo?

[Kuroo] 7:34 PM: you got it

[YOU] 7:36 PM: thank goodness! I just wanted to say, thank you for walking me home today. I was a bit worried about it, but I didn’t want to impose

[Kuroo] 7:38 PM: not a problem. I’m more than happy to do it again tomorrow

[Kuroo] 7:38 PM: since you are coming to practice, right?

[YOU] 7:40 PM: Sure :)

✧ ✧ ✧

Kuroo Tetsurou hadn’t been what you’d expected.

For one thing, he’d actually made good on your deal. You’d half-expected him to bail on tutoring you – though you couldn’t exactly say why. But, you supposed it would be hard for him to dodge the ire of his club manager. Regardless, he dedicated most afternoons to helping you study.

You’d meet up in the library before practice and you’d always start with chemistry. He was actually kind of good at explaining the concepts to you in a way you understood, without all the bells and whistles. He had a way of simplifying the concepts to their bare bones. That’s not to say that it wasn’t difficult; you still felt like you’d been left far, far behind. But, Kuroo was something of a comfort.

Somehow, you’d end up working on other subjects. Apparently, Kuroo’s surprisingly bad at literature. He was doing well enough, but it was something he just couldn’t wrap his head around. Maybe you’d been a bit gung-ho about offering your help, but you were just glad you finally had something to offer in this arrangement. Even though you were still managing the volleyball team, overwhelming as that could be sometimes.

But, you’d made a deal, and the whole manager business was less scary than you’d first thought. And you felt that with time, you’d get the hang of it. Maybe.

More often than not, your study session before practice wasn’t enough time to cover all the content you needed. So, sometimes, you’d continue it after practice, holed up in the library until you got kicked out. Kenma usually stuck with you guys, sitting in the corner with whatever game console he’d brought that day.

And without fail, Kuroo walked you all the way to your house every night. And during those walks, you talked. Rather animatedly.

“What I’m saying is that the divide between the arts and the sciences is arbitrary,” Kuroo shrugged, raising an eyebrow. “When they work together, incredible things happen. Genuine art happens.” He cocked his head at you, that perceptive grin of his spread across his face. “You’d really disagree with me on that?”

“I didn’t say I disagree,” you grinned. “I’m just surprised that you’re not one of those sciencey people who thinks that the arts are worthless.”

He scoffed at that, shaking his head. “Excuse you. I’ve got more nuance than that.”

“Sorry for doubting you,” you giggled.

“You better be.”

The thing you’d been most surprised about, above everything else, was just how enjoyable it was to talk to him. How easy it was to get lost in a conversation that most of your other friends might get bored by. It’s not that your other friends treated you badly, but Kuroo had a way of naturally drawing out your thoughts, and he usually treated them with enough respect to engage with them. Of course, there were times when he loved to tease, and you’d learnt to not take it too personally.

Kuroo Tetsurou was far more interesting than you’d first given him credit for. And you felt kind of bad for that. You’d known he wasn’t just some dumb jock – he wasn’t topping chemistry for nothing – but you hadn’t expected him to be so… clever. So playful. So fun to talk to.

You were beginning to feel that maybe, just maybe, he was someone you could end up being quite close to.

✉

[YOU] 10:41 PM: hey, kuroo?

[Kuroo] 10:46 PM: what's up?

[YOU] 10:47 PM: i was just wondering, why did you ask me to become manager?

[Kuroo] 10:48 PM: oh ahaha

[Kuroo] 10:48 PM: i thought having an extra pair of hands around would help the coach out a bit

[YOU] 10:48 PM: wait really

[YOU] 10:48 PM: that's it?

[Kuroo] 10:50 PM: ??????

[YOU] 10:51 PM: you were so seedy about it!

[Kuroo] 10:51 PM: was i?

[YOU] 10:52 PM: i–

[Kuroo] 10:53 PM: :)

✧ ✧ ✧

“Kenma wants to quit.”

Your head shot up, turning to Kuroo with wide eyes. “What?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, one hand raking through his hair. “The third years have been giving him a really rough time.” He bit his lip, glancing at you. “You’ve seen it yourself.”

You swallowed. “I hoped I was just being too sensitive, but…”

Kuroo groaned, running a hand down his face. “They’re such assholes.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, unsure of what to say. The third years had almost made you want to quit in the early days. They were scary, sharp, unrelenting. But they’d left you alone pretty quickly once you’d settled into the thrum of your responsibilities.

Kenma hadn’t been so lucky.

“Is he okay?” You murmured, brows knitted together. “I mean, I know he’s getting picked on, but is he… is he… I don’t know…”

“I get it,” Kuroo sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know. He doesn’t really talk about that sort of stuff.”

You set your pen down on the dining table, shifting in your chair to face him directly.

Practice had been cancelled for the afternoon, and Kuroo had bustled you out of school before you even had a chance to ask why. You’d been surprised when he had asked if the two of you could study at your place that afternoon – and some part of you had dreaded what your parents might say about you bringing a boy home – but you’d conceded. He’d seemed stuck in his head; something not unusual for him, but he’d been just withdrawn enough to pique your concern.

This must’ve been why.

“I just don’t know what to do,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. “I don’t want to push him too hard or anything, but I don’t think he’s making the right choice.”

You bit your lip.

“Why?” You asked, feeling bold.

“Huh?”

“Tell me why you don’t want him to quit,” you said. “Other than the obvious.” You sat up a little straighter, grabbing your notebook and picking up your pen. “We can brainstorm together.”

“Other than the obvious?” He tilted his head at you.

“You know,” you shrugged. “I know you want him to stay around because he’s your best friend, but... there’s more to it, right?”

“Well…” Kuroo swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck as he leant back in his chair.  “We’re not gonna get very far without him.”

You scribbled that down quickly. “Why’s that?”

“He’s a good strategist,” Kuroo said carefully, “And he’s great at running through all the potential outcomes on the spot. And nobody on the team’s as observant as he is.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you transcribed. You weren’t narcissistic enough to think you knew Kenma better than Kuroo did. Nor did you want to presume you were closer to the second-year than you actually were. But you wanted to help.

“Why don’t you… explain that to him?” You asked, peering down at your notebook.

“What do you mean?”

“Like… just tell him the logical reasons you want him to stick around,” you shrugged. “I think he’d respond well to that.”

“I guess…” Kuroo pursed his lips, looking at you with a frown.

“What I’m trying to say is that… maybe putting it into terms that’ll resonate with him is the best way to go.” You weren’t quite sure if your point was getting across. You just had to hope that he understood.

“I get you,” he nodded, crossing his arms. “I dunno if it’ll work though.”

“He’ll listen to you,” you mused, propping your hand on your chin.  

“Huh?”

“It’s obvious you mean a lot to him,” you shrugged. “Even if he doesn’t really use his words to express that.”

Kuroo blinked at you, a touch of pink to his cheeks.

“I mean, he’s stuck it out with volleyball this long, hasn’t he?” You smiled at him, watching his cheeks grow even pinker. “That’s because of you.”

He cleared his throat as he looked down at his lap. It was strange to see him so… speechless. He was the sort of person that always had a comeback. You were never able to get a one up on him. Sincerity, however, seemed to be his hamartia.

“I just… I wanna go as far as I can with this team,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “You know, me and the other second years… when we first joined the team, we were asked about our goals.”

He sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “We all said that we wanted to win nationals.”

He wasn’t quite sure why he was telling you all this. He didn’t know where it came from. But he knew he’s grateful to be able to just talk. To share this with someone.

“Yaku and I used to fight all the time,” he smiled sheepishly, casting his gaze at you.

“I can see that,” you giggled. There was always a little fire between the two of them; it’d given you a good laugh many times.

“It was kind of stupid, but… we got over it. We learned to work together,” Kuroo sighed.

“I feel bad for poor Kai,” you smiled.

Kuroo laughed. “Yeah…” He sighed as he leaned over the table, resting his chin on his folded arms. “Nekoma used to be hot shit, you know.”

“Did we?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Made it to nationals a couple of times. But, we sort of… fell off. We haven’t been as good as we could be for a while. And… I want to change that.”

He pressed his lips together, his brows furrowing. “We can’t do that if we don’t work together. And I know that sounds obvious, but… we need to focus on our teamwork more. We’ll only be great if we all learn to rely on and trust each other. We’ve gotta make the best use of all our strengths while covering our weaknesses.”

You nodded, making a little noise of agreement. You couldn’t help but smile as you listened to him. This side of Kuroo – this genuine, honest one – was quickly becoming your favourite.  

“Sorry,” he chuckled, sitting up straight. “Didn’t mean to ramble at you there.”

“No, no, it’s fine!” You shook your head. “Ramble all you’d like.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you for that, but he was smiling.

“Hey, Kuroo?” Normally, you wouldn’t have thought to ask the questions that were currently poking at the back of your mind. But he’d just been so honest, so open with you in a way he’d never been before. Maybe it was okay to be a little bit curious. Just this once.

“Hm?”

“I have a genuine question,” you said, folding your hands in your lap.

He looked at you, pouting a little.

“Why volleyball?”

He bit the inside of his cheek, brow creased ever so slightly. Usually, he’d just dodge a conversation like this; not because he was particularly embarrassed by it or anything like that, but because he didn’t want to talk about himself too much. He didn’t want to be rude and dominate the conversation.

But, you were asking. And, you seemed genuinely interested.

A little bit of sincerity wouldn’t hurt, right?

“My family moved here when I was pretty young,” he said, shrugging. “And I didn’t really… know how to make friends. Before I moved, I’d been part of a volleyball team. All my friends were on it, and… I had to move away from them.”

It was a little strange, trying to pull up all these memories. And trying to condense them was harder than he’d expected. “When I first met Kenma, we just played video games. I didn’t really… know how to talk to him. But he agreed to play volleyball with me, and that made things so much easier. I had something to talk about.”

You smiled to yourself, the image of a shy little Kuroo more endearing than it should be.

“I even convinced him to go to a weekend class with me,” he smiled, looking down. “You know, I even remember when I first met Coach Nekomata.”

“Huh?” You frowned.

“The old coach who used to work here. Rumour is he’ll come out of retirement sometime soon,” he smiled. 

You nodded, even though you didn’t quite understand. 

We bumped into him at one of those classes,” Kuroo said. “He told me, ‘do what you love, and success will come.’ I still think about that.”

Do what you love, and success will come. Yeah, that definitely sounded like something that’d resonate with Kuroo.

“Anyway, I joined the team in middle school, and that made it a lot easier to make friends,” Kuroo shrugged. “I don’t know. I love volleyball. Have for as long as I can remember. It’s fun. And… it helped me connect with people, even when… even when I couldn’t find the right words.”

He looked at you, a bit more tentative than usual. But, you were smiling, your chin propped up on one of your palms as you listened to him talk.

“Believe it or not, but I was a really shy kid.” He didn’t know why he’s still talking. And honestly, he’s a little embarrassed by it. But, you’re still listening. And for that, he’s grateful.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” you grinned.

His eyes widened a little. “Huh?”

“You think so much,” you mused, looking upwards. “But, like… in the way introverts do, you know?” You blushed, looking down at your hands. “Well, I mean… I tend to overthink everything I say, right?”

“No, really?” Kuroo gasped, covering his mouth with one hand.

“Shush,” you shot him a half-glare, suppressing the urge to stick your tongue out at him like a child. “It’s just that… I see a little bit of that in you, too. Not… massively, but it’s there.”  

You couldn’t quite read his expression. It wasn’t one you’d seen before. And honestly, he wouldn’t know how to describe it himself. He was caught between the relief at being seen, at being understood, and the embarrassment of being called out. People didn’t tend to pick up on that part of him – and yet, you had.

He wasn’t used to being the one getting read.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I really didn’t mean to ramble so much.”

“Oi,” you giggled, “I said it’s fine, didn’t I?”

He raised an eyebrow at you.

“It’s nice that you care so much about the game.” You were smiling at him. Nothing unusual. But the look in your eyes was so genuine, so bright that he could feel his face burning up from looking at it.

“Yeah,” he smiled, breaking eye contact with you. God, he really didn’t know what to do in conversations like these. “Anyway, should we get back to chem?”

✉

[closet introvert] 9:22 PM: so

[YOU] 9:25 PM: so

[closet introvert] 9:25 PM: i think i’m gonna try to talk to kenma after school tomorrow

✧ ✧ ✧

If there was one thing you were fairly decent at as manager, it was looking after the first and second years. Bit by bit, you’d worked up an adequate rapport with each of them, and you had most of their personalities sorted out. Most importantly, you knew what to do when they were down.

You just had to let Yaku rant – let him shout and gripe and swear, and he’d be okay. Kai liked a constructive conversation, had in soft, measured tones, and offering a solution or two. Yamamoto wanted fire and conviction, a challenge to do better, to be better. Fukunaga liked a distraction, something to take his mind off of whatever was bothering him. Kenma liked to be left alone to sort things out for himself – but you were permitted to make him a care package or two.

You’d known Kuroo long enough by now to know that he was rather reticent when it came to his own feelings. He wasn’t the sort to talk about them upfront; you had to peer at the silences and the spaces between his words to find out what he really meant. You had to look at his behaviour; he was never too straightforward. That sort of thing seemed to overwhelm him.

That presented a bit of a problem. If he didn’t want to talk about his feelings, he simply wouldn’t. He’d deflect the conversation, or downplay how he was feeling. Sometimes he gave you bits and pieces, but he rarely spilled his true thoughts and feelings. They were exceedingly difficult to draw out of him – he had to offer them up himself. And most of the time, he bounced back pretty quickly from his more melancholic moods on his own.  

But not today.

Kuroo wasn’t exactly loud. At least, not in the same way Yamamoto was – or that rambunctious wing spiker from Fukurodani. It was well within Kuroo’s abilities to be obnoxious, but he wasn’t loud. But even for him, he was being uncharacteristically quiet today.

Practice had gone fine, as far as you could tell. Nothing had gone obviously wrong, and nobody had gotten injured. From your perspective, things had even gone well. Admittedly, your knowledge of volleyball didn’t run particularly deep just yet, but you were trying your best.

Kuroo was usually so bright after practice, always grinning or cackling at something despite his exhaustion. Half the time he’d point things out to you, explaining certain moves they’d practised or formations they were trying out.

But today, he’d just picked up his bag dourly, waiting at the door for you and Kenma to leave. He’d said very little on the walk to the train station when usually he’d be rambling about something or other. You and Kenma exchanged a look; he was just as concerned as you were.

And just like you, he didn’t know how to breach the conversation.

“So… how do they even work?” You asked, blinking down at Kenma’s DS screen.

You couldn’t stand the silence for much longer. And you knew that a sure-fire way to get Kenma talking was by asking him about video games – especially optimization.

“EVs are gained by defeating specific Pokemon,” Kenma murmured. “If you defeat a Pokemon with naturally high HP like Chansey, you’ll gain EVs towards your own HP. However, you can only gain 252 EV’s towards any one stat.”

You nodded, opting to let him ramble. Usually, Kuroo would’ve led the conversation between the three of you. But, you’d valiantly taken that task up yourself today – and the easiest way to help things go smoothly was to get Kenma on a roll.

“You can gain a maximum of five-hundred and twelve total, so realistically you can only optimise two stats at a time,” he continued, eyes still glued to his screen. You took a moment to glance at Kuroo. He was staring out the window of the train, his expression worryingly forlorn. Was he even listening?

“IVs are a Pokemon’s innate capabilities.” Kenma was still going. You made an affirmative noise in the back of your throat, nodding. “A Pokemon with a high attack IV will have a naturally higher attack stat than a Pokemon with a low attack IV, even at the same level.”

On the one hand, it was nice to know that Kenma was comfortable enough with you to ramble like this. It was also nice to see Kenma talking freely; a rare and precious sight.

On the other hand, it just made you more stressed about Kuroo. He hadn’t breathed a word the entire ride. He hadn’t even taken a moment to gaze fondly at Kenma while he was rambling. And he always did that when Kenma was on a roll.

You managed to ask enough questions to fill the distance to Kenma’s house. He was speaking more than usual. That much was obvious, yes – but even for a Kenma that was geeking out, this was unusual.

And with the way his gaze kept flicking to Kuroo, you knew it was because he was truly, deeply concerned.

Kuroo still made somewhat of an effort to say goodbye to Kenma, despite his mood. The usual “make sure you don’t go to sleep too late, okay?” and “make sure you drink enough water, so you don’t get a headache.”

But before Kenma walked through his front door, he looked at you. And when you looked back, he held eye contact. Then he looked very pointedly at Kuroo, who was staring up at the sky. By the time you turned to look at Kenma again, he was already scurrying through his front door.

“You ready?” Kuroo asked, now looking at you.

You nodded, half-jogging to join him on the street. Even today, even when it seemed like he just wanted to go home and sleep, he was still walking you home. Sure, your house wasn’t all that far from his, but he still went out of his way every night, just to make sure you felt comfortable.

That quiet thoughtfulness was part of who he was. You’d seen him direct it at Kenma all the time.

The same Kenma who’d just sent you a silent plea.

The Kenma, who never looked you in the eyes for longer than half a second.

The Kenma, who had just asked you to speak to his best friend.

That was all the push you needed.

“Hey, Kuroo?” You murmured.

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?” You asked.

Kuroo looked at you, one eyebrow raised. He was torn.

Should he really burden you with this? Was it right for him to worry you again?

But you’re looking at him with such genuine concern, such genuine care. And the advice you’d given him when he was worried about Kenma had been both helpful and effective. And surely, you wouldn’t have asked that question if you didn’t want a proper answer, right?

Fuck it, he thought.

“I feel like I’m not measuring up,” he sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “My blocking hasn’t been improving. And I don’t know why. I’ve been trying to work on my read blocking but I just can’t get it down. I can’t even fix the problem because I don’t know what the problem is.”

He took a deep breath, his steps slowing to a stop. “I convinced Kenma to stay on, but I’m not a team-mate he can be proud of.”

“Kuroo…”

You looked at him, cloaked in the shadows of the street. His gaze was cast at the ground, his brow furrowed and the smallest of pouts on his lips. You wanted to hug him, but you weren’t sure if that’d help.

You didn’t quite know what to say. You knew what it was like to get caught up in your own insecurities – you were sure most people did. You knew he couldn’t see himself the way you saw him; tenacious, hard-working, passionate.

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” you murmured. No, that was too soft – too wishy-washy. “I know that it… seems kind of silly for me to say, but you are.”

You clenched your fists to steel yourself, taking a step closer to him. That got his attention – he looked up at you, eyes slightly wide.

“You feel like you’re not measuring up, or that you’re not improving… but I don’t see it that way.” It was true. You watched him push himself harder each and every day, improving little by little. And when he wasn’t, he’d learn from those mistakes.

“It must be easy to lose yourself on the court, but from where I’m standing… you’re improving every day.” Your eyes searched his face, looking for any indication that your words were having some kind of impact.

“And… you don’t need to be the world’s best middle blocker, you know?” You said, tilting your head at him. “You’re good, Kuroo. And you know you’ve got space to improve – that’s your strength. That makes you a team-mate worth being proud of.”

He was staring at you, eyes still wide. The dim light of the street hid the blush on his cheeks. For that, he was thankful.

“Uh…” He felt like he should say something. But he didn’t quite know what. ‘Thank you’ would’ve been the natural response, but those words just wouldn’t come.

“Sorry,” you blushed, your nerves finally catching up with you as you looked away from him. “I didn’t mean to… push your boundaries or anything like that, but… if you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”

Had you overstepped his boundaries? Had you made him uncomfortable? Those questions plagued you for the rest of the way home, Kuroo still quiet and reticent at your side.

You hadn’t overstepped his boundaries at all. Kuroo just couldn’t find the right words, even as you closed the distance to your house.

In all honesty, he’s touched. Touched that you cared so much. Touched that you reached out, even though he could tell how nervous you were. Touched that you were paying that much attention.

As he walked through the door of his own home, he couldn’t get the image of you looking up at him so resolutely out of his head.

He’d have to thank some deity above for the fact you were bad at chemistry, wouldn’t he?  

✉

[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:57 PM: hey so uh

[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:57 PM: i just wanted to say thanks

[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:58 PM: for listening to me be all emotional like that

[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:58 PM: i put a lot on you but you were really nice about it

[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:59 PM: so yeah

[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:59 PM: thanks

[YOU] 10:59 PM: NO! DON’T APOLOGISE!

[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:59 PM: !?!?!?!

[YOU] 11:00 PM: honestly, i don’t mind! and i’m happy to listen :(

[YOU] 11:00 PM: i’m here if you need to talk to anyone, okay?

[japan’s okayest tutor] 11:04 PM: you too

✧ ✧ ✧

You were alone.

Your sobs were the only sound fracturing the fragile silence of the empty gym as you slumped against the wall, your knees brought up to your chest.

Why did you have to fuck up so bad? You’d managed to survive your first year with no drama, the only cause of concern being your studies. They were overwhelming enough  to deal with on their own. You’d certainly felt down about your grades and whatnot before, but those ruts were a little easier to pull yourself out of. ‘They’re just grades,’ you’d try and tell yourself. ‘You can improve next time. And they don’t define you as a person.’ Even if you didn’t quite believe any of that, it was nice to have some rhetoric to at least attempt to counteract those thoughts.

But now? Now you truly felt alone. Like no-one cared about you.

You felt like you deserved it. Like anyone who cared about you was wasting their time. Like you were taking up their time and attention undeservedly.

It was all too overwhelming.

The pain choked you. Every thought, every feeling you’d been trying to fend off for so long ripped through you like an arrow.

Fuck, why couldn’t you just hold yourself together? Why did you have to be so weak?

You let go. And you cried. And cried. And cried.

The sound shattered the vacuous silence of the gym. You weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting there, letting your sobs rack through your body.

Your throat was sore.

Your eyes stung.

You were alone.

And you deserved it.

“Woah.”

You froze. You knew that voice.

“Hey.” Kuroo knelt in front of you, his hands finding their way to your forearms. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He was knelt in front of you, eyebrows knitted together as his eyes roamed your face.

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. Shit, why was he here? Why hadn’t he just headed home?

You didn’t want anyone to see you like this. You didn’t want to worry them.

Kuroo’s arms found their way around you, coaxing you gently towards his chest. You collapsed into him, burying your face in his chest.

Fuck, that didn’t help at all. Your sobs came with more voracity, rawer and harsher than they had been.

He just held you, chin propped on your head and one hand rubbing your back. He didn’t say anything; he knew you didn’t need that right now. He knew that in moments like this, it was nice just to be held. To feel like someone’s there.

And then slowly, breath by breath, everything seemed to calm. Your sobs grew softer and softer against his chest, his gentle hums setting a new rhythm for your fractured mind. He was grounding you; each touch, each sound was an attempt to bring you back down to earth. You could tell it wasn’t the most comfortable position for him, crouched awkwardly in front of you while holding you to his chest, but he stayed. 

He stayed until your breathing had levelled out, and your grip on his shirt had loosened.

“There you go,” Kuroo murmured, letting you go. He shifted to sit next to you, and you immediately missed his warmth. You found a little comfort as he looped an arm around your shoulder.  

You took a long, shaky breath. You weren’t sure how long you’d keep it together for, but you were glad for the reprieve.

“What are you doing here?” You sniffed, rubbing your nose with the back of your hand. He shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t have made him worry about you.

“You didn’t show up for our little study session,” he said, eyebrows knitted together. “I tried texting you, but you didn’t respond. And I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

Shit. You’d forgotten to tell him you’d ‘headed home early.’

“I was worried about you,” he murmured, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

You swallowed roughly, the guilt bubbling up in your chest.

“I’m sorry–”

“No.” Kuroo shook his head. “Don’t apologize. If you need to get it out, you need to get it out.”

You bit your lip, looking down at your hands. Your knuckles blanched pale as you clenched the fabric of your skirt.

“And,” he swallowed, “if you need to talk to someone… I’m here.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt everything rush back. The fight. The loneliness. The insomnia.

Kuroo didn’t need to hear this. And you didn’t want to burden him with this.

But God, you needed to talk to someone.  

“I- I had an argument with Hana,” you sniffed, fingers playing with the hem of your jacket.

You could barely remember how it started. Something stupid, probably. Something immature. But it had blown way out of proportion, and she wasn’t speaking to you anymore. You’d been spending your lunchtimes alone, behind the gym or in an empty classroom. You didn’t have the strength to face the rest of your friends, nor did you know what she’d been telling them.

It had struck at the worst possible time, too. The usual anxieties about grades and the future had been compounding recently. You’d been a bit more down than usual, and this whole Hana debacle had exacerbated that. You were usually able to manage feelings like this, finding ways to keep your head above water.

But not this time.

“I just,” you swallowed, squeezing your eyes shut. “I just feel like something’s missing. And, and I’m… there’s… there’s this gap in my heart, and I don’t know how to stop feeling so empty.”

You took a deep breath, feeling it tremble through your body. “But… but I also just feel so numb.”

And all of it, even the numbness, was overwhelming. No matter how desperately you tried to distract yourself, you couldn’t. Nothing worked. You’d lost too many nights sitting at the bottom of your shower, letting the water run down your back as your mind ran in the same repeating circles.

You were exhausted.

“And part of me,” you swallowed, your throat rough and dry as your emotions tried to hammer themselves into something coherent. “Part of me feels like… like it’s wrong to feel like this.”

God, that felt stupid. Stupid, but true. On top of everything, you felt defunct.

And frankly, you couldn’t say why. Was it shame? Guilt? Something else?

“Hey.” Kuroo’s voice was low, almost soft as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “You’re gonna feel what you’re gonna feel,” he murmured, “You shouldn’t feel guilty about that, okay?”

He felt you tremble as you tried to take a deep breath.

He knew that your pain wasn’t a one-to-one reflection of his own. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to understand exactly what you were going through.

But he knew what it was like to be a small child, so afraid, so alone, without an understanding of what was really going on around him.

He knew what it was like to feel as if something was missing, like there was a constant gap in your heart. He’d felt that way when his parents had split up. He’d only been a kid, too young to properly comprehend why that had been happening.

All he had known was that his family had crumbled to pieces around him. And then his mother was gone, half a world away with little more than a kiss on his forehead as a goodbye. He hadn’t been ready for it. He had felt like he might never be.

That feeling of separation had followed him, even into his teen years. It was quieter now, a half-whisper on the bad days. Usually, he could ignore it, setting his mind to more productive concerns. But, it never quite disappeared.

Kuroo knew what it was like to be lonely.

And he hated seeing you go through the exact same thing.

Lonely. Afraid. Probably hoping that someone, somewhere, would acknowledge your pain.

That was the worst part. Wanting your suffering to be known. Wanting someone to look at all of it, to see it for what it was. But no matter how palpable that desire was, how desperately you wanted it, it was too terrifying. To speak up was to be a burden. To speak up was to expose yourself to pity; and that was always the last thing you needed.

Pity’s useless. All you were asking for, all you really wanted was understanding. Acknowledgment. To have someone see.

He knew exactly what that was like.

“You, uh…” The sentiment caught in his throat, somehow both persistent and reticent.

“You don’t have to do this alone.”

They were the very words he’d wished someone had said to him all those years ago. The words he’d wanted someone to offer him, a child who didn’t know how to reach out. To cry out for help.

And in that moment, with his arms around the manager who had looked after him and his boys so well, Kuroo felt that call.

✉

[passable at best] 8:30 PM: hey

[passable at best] 8:30 PM: how are you feeling?

[YOU] 8:45 PM: alright

[YOU] 8:45 PM: i ate dinner and i’ve just been watching youtube

[YOU] 8:46 PM: and i’ve been drinking a lot of water

[passable at best] 8:46 PM: i’m glad to hear that

[passable at best] 8:46 PM: make sure you get an early night, yeah?

[YOU] 8:47 PM: i’ll try

[passable at best] 8:47 PM: and if you need anything, please text me

✧ ✧ ✧

"Come to the temple with me."

The surprise was evident on your face. You’re glad he couldn’t see you. "What… just us?"

"Yeah." There's a pause. An almost painful one. "I couldn't get Kenma to leave the house, so…"

You pretended you weren’t disappointed. If anyone could see you, they wouldn't be convinced.

"Oh, well, uh…" Your fists curled into your nightgown. "Sure."

"Great!" You could hear the smile in his voice. It's the one you like best; full of sunlight, pure and whole. The one that reached his eyes. "I'll, uh… see you at eight?"

Usually, if someone had called you at seven-thirty in the morning, you would've simply ignored them. But when you’d seen that it was him, you’d answered immediately. The lack of hesitation was almost frightening.

There was no reason that your fondness for a certain Kuroo Tetsurou should scare you. You just knew that you adored the guy. In less than a year, he’d become one of your favourite people. And, he’d been such a solid support for you. Of course you’d go to the temple with him.  

But as you stood at the temple steps, swallowed up by a coat and two jumpers, you wondered if anyone was worth being this cold for.

“Sorry I’m late.”

You glared up at him, nose embarrassingly red.

“What?” He groaned, hands dug deep in his pockets.

“It’s cold.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“It’s eight in the morning.”

“Hey,” he grinned, reaching up and ruffling your hair with a gloved hand. “You could’ve said no.”

You huffed. Unfortunately, he was right.

“Well, I’m touched,” he chuckled, looking up at the sky. “It’s a nice morning, though.” He looked back down at you with a grin. He was far too peppy for this hour of the morning. “You ready?”

The walk up the steps was almost laborious, given just how cold it was. Your breath misted in front of you as you told each other about your first dreams of the year; he’s still regaling a tale about Kenma turning into a dragon with five heads and chasing him through the streets of Tokyo by the time you reach the fortunes.

You tried to shake off the superstitious jitters as you carefully chose one of the knots on the string. Kuroo showed much less care.

As you read the fortune written out on your strip, you let out a surreptitious sigh of relief. You looked at Kuroo, tilting your head.

“What’d you get?” You sniffled. You hoped you wouldn’t get a cold from this.

“Bad luck,” he said, turning the strip towards you.

You snorted. “Oh, ow.”

He shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal.” His expression said otherwise; it was that half-grimace he had whenever he didn’t want to admit he was wrong. Or that Bokuto had done something cool.

“Really?” You grinned, tilting your head at him. “You’re not bothered by it at all?”

“Alright, what did you get then?” He peered down at you, puffing out his chest.

“A little luck.” You held your strip towards him, and he scowled.

“Bad luck’s more exciting,” he mumbled.

“Don’t be mad about it,” you smiled, nudging him with your elbow. “God just likes me more.”

“Oi,” he huffed, ruffling your hair with a cold hand.

“Hey!” You wacked his hand away, but he just cackled.

“Anyway, you’ve forgotten the most important part of a temple visit,” he yawned, looking back at the fortunes lined up on the strings.

“Hm?” You frowned.

"You gotta make a promise," he sniffled, his fortune scrunched up in his hand.

You pouted, your hands dug deep in your pockets. A promise, huh? Did he mean a wish? You weren’t about to argue the point. He’d win it, anyway.

“You go first,” you mumbled, a little embarrassed by the fact that nothing was coming to mind.

He paused, staring at you for a moment. You squinted back, perhaps half as a challenge.

"Hm," Kuroo puffed his cheeks out, looking up at the sky for a moment. "I promise… to always be there for you. No matter what."

You blushed. What sort of promise was that? And why did it make you feel like… this?

Thwump!

You were only half aware of it as you punched him in the stomach.

“What was that for?” He wheezed, hands clamped on his stomach as he stumbled back a few steps.

“You can’t say things like that!” You whined, feeling the colour in your cheeks growing deeper.

“Why not?” There was something a little too genuine in his frown.

“Because I was going to say something really lame!” It was only eight-thirty in the morning, and Kuroo had already worked his way under your skin. And you weren’t entirely sure he’d meant to. “If I knew you were gonna say something like that, I’d’ve said it back.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “You still can, you know.”

“Oh.” Yeah. You could.

That was all he needed. In an instant, that familiar grin was once again adorning his face, and he was towering over you. A little closer than maybe was appropriate.

“Is that… a blush I see?” Oh, he looked far too pleased with himself. You had half a mind to punch him again.

“Shut up,” you huffed.

“Aw, have I made you all embarrassed?” He grinned, ruffling your hair. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words spoiled by his fake pout.

“If you don’t shut up, I won’t say it,” you threatened, glaring at him as resolutely as you could. The weird twang in your chest made it more difficult than it usually was.

He shut his mouth immediately, eyes a little bigger and much more expectant than usual.

“Kuroo Tetsurou–”

“Are you about to propose?”

“You know what? Nevermind–”

“No, no, no! I’m sorry!” His shoulders were slouched towards you, head tilted to the side and a bright smile on his face. “I’ll shut up.”

You took a deep breath. It certainly felt a bit like you were trying to propose to him. You shuffled that thought out of your mind as quickly as you could. Once again, Kuroo had put you in a situation you hadn’t quite anticipated.

“No matter what comes, and no matter how irritating you are–”

“Hey!”

“–I promise that I’ll be there to support you,” you managed to say, cheeks flaring and fists clenched. “I… really care about you.”

You couldn’t bear the look he was giving you. It was the look you’d give something you positively adored – something you believed would bring nothing but light to your life. It was a look so full of affection that you felt like you might shatter beneath it.

He reached out and wrapped you in his arms, pulling you gently into his chest. You snuck your arms under his jacket, circling them around his waist. You’d done it mostly on instinct, but you weren’t upset about it. It’s warm, and it’s nice, and you didn’t want to question it. 

There’s too much to worry about – studies, volleyball, the fact that it’s really not all that long until you’re third years. That took precedence. Whatever’s going on here – whatever this was – couldn’t take priority.

All you knew for certain was that you loved Kuroo Tetsurou. In what way didn’t matter. And this in-between, this unnamed space was comfortable. And, as far as you could tell, it belonged to both of you. If he didn’t want to say anything about it, then neither did you.

✉

[i can be your angle] 5:21 PM: hey hey

[YOU] 5:21 PM: hey hey hey!

[i can be your angle] 5:21 PM: no don’t do that

[i can be your angle] 5:21 PM: anyway, i just wanted to make sure you’re practicing appropriate after-cold care

[YOU] 5:21 PM: why do you always have to phrase things Like That

[i can be your angle] 5:22 PM: no idea what you’re talking about

[i can be your angle] 5:22 PM: anyway, drink a tea or two, stick a heat pack (or seven) in the microwave, and rug up

[i can be your angle] 5:22 PM: can’t have you going and catching a cold

#haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo imagine #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuuwritersnet #once again what are tags #i didn't want to cut this up but it got Too Long i'm so sorry #n e way hope you like it?? #the in between