#I’ll try and look through the stream again tomorrow

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

Does anyone possibly know if Phil’s stream from December 7 2020 contains any Ghostbur clips because it is. very long. very, very long. And I have been trying to look through it but there’s just So Much and I haven’t found any Ghostbur lol

[kimberly-spirits13]

At the Stitches

Pairing: Jason Todd x black widow reader

Warnings: mentions of blood, and getting stitches

Summary: Jason comes home acting strange and while stitching him up, you figure out why. (angstish/ fluff)

Word Count: 1633

Your bathroom echoed as you hummed a Russian lullaby while twisting small pieces your hair into tiny braids. You had pulled it back to keep it out of your face during patrol but following a traditional instilled in you at a young age in the Red Room, you had the impulse to add little braids throughout it. Jason was due to be back home soon, and you would take over patrol. Every few months, Bruce made sure to have someone patrolling the entire night due to possible crime spikes. Keeping everyone fresh and awake on these nights was vital to avoiding injuries. The melody continued to echo through the bathroom as you remembered the lullaby of the older Widow that took care of you while you were being studied for your powers in the Red Room, “Bayu-bay, all people should sleep at night. Bayu-bay, tomorrow is a new day. We got very tired today, let’s say to everyone “good night”, go to sleep Bayu-bay.” You took the last clear elastic band and tied off the last braid in your hair. When you were satisfied with the stablility of the elastics, you picked up your mask that was sitting next to the sink after being cleaned. In case Jason needed some help after patrol, you waited for him to climb through the window. When you heard the swing of the window and the thud that was his boots landing on the floor, you knew he was back. 

                  Jason was putting his helmet on the counter when you came inside the living room ready for patrol. He seemed heavy, like he was exhausted tonight from galivanting through the city. There was a large red gash on his side, pushing little streams of blood over his shirt. He looked at you with tired eyes and you knew he needed rest.

                  “How’d you get that, Jaybird?” You quipped, examining the wound before helping him pull his shirt over his head. He groaned as you did, wincing when his arms came back down. There were a few bruises painted over his body, and a swollen spot over his eye, despite him supposedly having his helmet on all night. 

                  “Wasn’t paying enough attention.” He huffed, “Patch me up?”

                  “Yea, I just need to make sure I’m not late.” You answered.

                  You walked towards the master bathroom again, where you made sure to keep the more extensive first aid kit. Jason was following slowly, dragging his feet, and making the time tick by. It took him longer than usual to get to the sink and sit himself up on the counter, next to where you had prepared to stitch up his wounds. He signed heavily and rested his chin on your head, burying you in his chest. Instead of pulling away immediately, you waited a bit, giving into his neediness for the moment before trying to pull back and grab the rubbing alcohol. Jason seemed to have a vice grip on you once you tried to pull back, forcing you to stay where you were.

                  “Jay, I have to clean your cuts, babe.” You lifted your hands onto his arms and started pulling them from you until he sat back up, “You should go to sleep instead of waiting up tonight, you seem exhausted.” 

                  “I’m fine, I’ll wait up.” He said.            

                  “Honey, I don’t want to seem argumentative, but you look like you’re seeing stars.” “Are you sure you’re okay?”

                  “I told you I’m fine Y/N.” There was a combative tone in his voice, causing you to drop the point of contention. Obviously, there was something he wasn’t telling you.       

                  “Dick says that Grundy is out again.” You said, plopping a cotton pad on the open top of the alcohol bottle, “Apparently there’s some new magic aspect that Bruce wants me to look at considering my magic. I’d say if it’s Grundy it’s dark.” “Hey, stay still for me.”                   Jason was moving around enough that you couldn’t properly clean and bandage his wounds without him reinfecting the area before it was sealed. You began the process again, realizing that you were probably going to be a few minutes late. Cleaning where the cut was, he flinched a bit. When you tried to make eye contact to see if he was okay, he saw that he was already staring intensely at you. You both looked away as you grabbed the needle to stitch him back up.

                  “I’ll probably ask Zatanna what she thinks about it. Maybe it’s not that big of a deal and I can take care of it tonight since there’s so many of us out patrolling. I might go check it out later to see-” 

                  “Shit Y/N!” Jason’s fist hit the counter causing a loud bang, your hand to flinch back thinking you hurt him, and you look at him with confusion. You hadn’t done anything wrong, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t gotten stitches before.

                  “Sorry, sorry.” You held up your hands, showing up that you weren’t doing anything that would hurt him, “Sorry Jay I didn’t think I was hurting you.” “Are you okay? I mean you need to be stitched but maybe I can-” Your voice wavered off as you started grabbing one of the white bandages that you could wrap around his entire torso before Jason grabbed your hands gently, making you drop the roll of bandages. 

                  “Fuck, sorry, Y/N/N. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” He said, speaking like a puppy with a broken tail, “Please don’t leave.” 

                  “Babe, the others will be out there alone, I have to be there, especially if there’s some sort of dark magic involved.” You said, a worried look settling over your face.

                  “No, you don’t. They’ll be fine, Bruce is out there now.” “You can’t go out there.”

                  “Jason what’s wrong?” You asked, your hands still trapped in his, “What’s out there?” 

                  “I just- you can’t go.” Jason was trying to plead an argument with you, but it seemed he couldn’t find the words. 

                  “Jason, what happened?” You asked, worry and concern lacing your voice and your hands, still in Jason’s dropped into his lap.

                  “It’s a warzone tonight.” “I mean, it’s been worse, it’s been so much worse, but you can’t be out there without me. Please don’t leave Y/N/N, you can’t, please just stay here. I can’t make sure that you’re okay, I can’t follow you around tonight, can’t keep up with you. You can’t leave.” Tears started welling up in his eyes and you tugged your hands out of his to wipe them away.

                  “Hey, it’s okay, Jason, I’m right here.” Your movements caused him to look deeply into your eyes.

                  “I know you can take care of yourself. You could put Bruce in an early grave, but I can’t let you go out there without me.” He said, his voice breaking a few times.

                  “It’s okay Jay, I’ll stay with you.” “Are the others, okay?” 

                  “They’re fine.” He said honestly, “Bruce is calling in Diana for extra help.” “I told him you had the flu.” A sheepish look came over him as you realized what he had just admitted to.

                  “I would laugh at that, but I’m still worried about you.” You said, smiling just a bit in humor, “Okay, I’ll stay with you, but I’ve still got to take care of these cuts.” 

                  “You’re still in your suit.” He quipped suspiciously. 

                  “Well yea, I mean I thought you were about to implode on yourself a second ago.” You laughed, a small light admitting from your body and making your uniform disintegrate into a pair of sweatpants and one of Jason’s old shirts. The uniform would be put back away in its case for tomorrow night, but you’d be sure not to touch it tonight unless it was necessary. 

                  “Are you okay if I start again?” you asked.

                  “Yeah, you’re good.” He replied in almost a whisper.          

                  You began cleaning back up the larger wound now that blood had ran down his torso. Intentionally being extra gentle, you were being sure that there was no way you were hurting Jason. It was quiet in the bathroom now, only the sound of you two breathing could be heard. A few moments of silence had passed before he spoke up again.

                  “Hey Y/N/N?”                   “What’s up?” 

                  “Will you take your hair down? I need your hair.” He had been trying to run his fingers through the strands of hair but was being impaired by the little braids you had strung throughout the loose pieces.

                  You chuckled a bit before another little glow emitted from your hair and a small plopping noise sounded from the countertop as little clear bands dropped down to where they had been stacked together. Jason’s fingers immediately started running through the strands again, relaxing his breathing and slowing his heart rate. You started humming a new lullaby again, “The night has come, and she has brought darkness with her. Mommy went out, closed the shutters, sleep, sleep. Fall asleep.”

                  “All of your Russian lullabies are terrifying.” Jason said.

                  “Knocked me out like a light when I was little.” You replied laughing, “At least it’s not the one about Baba Yaga.” 

                  “Yea, at least.” He chuckled.

                  After a few moments, Jason’s wounds were patched up and he was showered. You had already gotten into bed and was waiting for him when Jason came and plopped on top of you, holding you tightly to him and not letting you go.

                  “Thanks for staying.” He said softly. 

                  “I’ll always stay with you Jay. Just tell me when there’s something wrong the next time.” You replied, running your fingers through his hair, “I was worried about you, love.”

                  “I’m sorry.” He assured, “I’ll tell you next time.” 

                  “I love you Jaybird.” 

                  “I love you” 

[brnesblogposts]

unspoken love

pairing: Steven Grant x reader

summary: Steven takes away the stress of your day

warnings none! fluffy only

words 750

The door slammed behind you as you stormed into the flat, you didn’t look up, not once. You made a B line to the bathroom and started the shower, hoping the warm water would calm you down. Instead tears streamed down your cheeks as frustration overtook you and all you wanted to do was curl into a ball.

There was a knock at the bathroom door which caught your attention from where you were sitting at the bottom of the shower, knees against your chest.

“Love?” Steven’s sweet voice echoed through the bathroom, you didn’t answer, you felt bad but you did not have the energy to talk right now.

Steven peered his head around the door and his eyebrows furrowed in empathy, you sat at the back of the shower, your knees to your chest as the water ran over your head. He thought of his next move carefully, knowing what you were like when you’d had a bad day at work. He knew you liked your solitude, but he’d decided he wanted to help, to try ease away some of the tension he knew you were holding.

You heard the shower curtain draw back, peering up to see Steven cautiously stepping in the shower. He reached out his hand for you, you took it as he carefully guided you to stand up. You were looking into his eyes and saw the sympathy behind them. He didn’t ask you to speak but you knew getting it off your chest would help subside your anger just a little bit.

A deep sigh escaped your lips, “She was so bad today, Steven.” tears were building up again, Steven leaned down to place gentle kisses on your temples, “I can’t do it anymore, I- I- I need to quit. One of these days i’m gonna lash out and swear at her, she makes me so fucking angry. I don’t deserve to be treated like shit, i’m doing my best, I am!” you started to tremble as the days events replayed in your mind.

“I’m proud of you, I know you’re doing your best and she has no right to treat you like that, you’re not going in tomorrow, neither am I. we’re gonna stay home and watch movies all day, anything you want to do tomorrow, it’s your day.” He placed his hands on the sides of your face as a sweet smile took over his features, then he lent behind you, reaching for your shampoo.

Steven motioned for you to turn around, your back was now facing him as he started to lather shampoo into your hair. Massaging your scalp, you let a sigh of relief out, feeling your muscles and entire body loosen up. You could quite literally feel a weight lift off your shoulders as Steven began massaging the back of your neck, your thoughts too focused on how he was making you feel rather than your horrible boss.

“I love you” is all he said into your ear as he tilted your head back so the shower head could remove the soap from your scalp. He took a loofah and began delicately washing your body with a lavender body wash, scrubbing away your anger and the stressful day you had endured. You had closed your eyes and been so relaxed you hadn’t noticed he’d turned the shower off and grabbed a towel from the hook, wrapping it around you and giving you a hug from behind.

Steven lead you out to the bedroom, pulling out one of his shirts he knows you love, along with a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms. He dressed you, dried your hair and helped you into bed, climbing in next to you as you laid your head on his chest. Steven’s heartbeat soothed you as he ran his fingers through your hair.

“Thank you” you mumbled, any anger you’d felt had been alleviated, “Of course, love.” he spoke as he placed a kiss atop of your head, “Hey, close your eyes and get some rest, i’ll be right here, promise” you could hear the sincerity in his voice and closed your eyes, not before finding his hand and leaving a kiss on his knuckles, as you drifted off he continued to run his hand through your hair, and down your back. Tomorrow you’d make it up to him, Steven was the sweetest and thoughtful man, and you needed to make sure he felt loved too.

———————————————

reblogs appreciated :)

[sukiipjs]

✮ I DONT WANT TO

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↳ nick sturniolo x masc reader

↳ words - 866

↳ summary - nick coming over to help you not give into the urge of relapse. (short little thing 👽)

↳ contains - crying, much talk of self harm, depression, use of y/n, pet names (baby), idk

↳ song - candy by alex g

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

°:. *₊ ° . ☆

my breath begins shaky, i sit on my bed, leaning against the headboard, banging my head back against the wall. my hands cover my mouth as i try to catch my breath and be quiet as tears stream down my face.

i don’t know what’s happening, the urge is just getting stronger. two months clean, two months, i don’t want to start this over i’m doing so good.

i lean my head down, taking my hands off myself and gripping them into my hair. my knees are bent up by my chest. i try to keep the thoughts down but i know there’s a blade right beside me, so easy to just grab. but i’ll regret it tomorrow, it’s not worth it, i keep telling myself.

my shirts off, my left arm of healed scars out in view. new ones could come at any point, i’d be so easy to do, i’d be so worth it to do… i cry and cry, now banging my head into my knees trying to do anything but give in that bloody urge.

a light finally shines in my head, nick. call nick. i take my hands off me, leaning over to grab my phone… that sits next to that blade. i open my phone, quickly going to call nick, i bring my phone to the side of my face as it rings, waiting for him to answer.

he finally answers after i call him one or two more times, it’s almost midnight so i don’t blame him. “mm.. y/n, you good?” he groans, i hear his blankets shifting on the other side as i try to speak, my voice being caught, being weak. “i- nick- nick please come over,” i manage to get out words, my breaths are short and fast, i wipe my palm on my eyes, trying to swipe off some tears.

“what? why? are you okay? what’s wrong?” he sounds more alert now, more awake as he hears the tone of my voice. “just come over please- i need you okay,” i curl back into myself, knees to my chest, one of my arms wrapping around my legs and the other still holding my phone. “okay, uhm- i’ll be there soon okay? you’ll be okay, yeah?” i nod, though he can’t even see me.

“mhm,” i mumble out, i hear his sheets ruffle again, i assume he stands out of his bed, “here uh, i’ll call an uber and i’ll be out there as soon as i can okay? do you want me to stay on or?” i hear nick still walk around, “you can get off, ill- uh- i don’t know, i’ll see you soon?” i sniffle as nick asks if i’m sure again, but i say i’m fine, i can wait.

we get off and i stay on my bed, waiting for him as i continue crying into my palms. trying to breath, trying to distract myself, trying again, not to give into the urge.

after a few, i hear my door open and nick shout my name. i lift my head from my palms, wiping off my eyes. nick bursts into my room, seeing my crying and panicking on my bed, the blade right next to me on my bedside table. “y/n…” he says softly as he comes onto the bed next to me, quick to wrap his arms around me tightly.

“you’re okay… you’re okay” he say softly, his head resting in the crook of my neck as he slowly rocks me back and forth, one of his hands stroking through my hair. i hold myself onto him too, my head resting by his neck, tears dampening on his shirt.

he moves himself back so he can look at me, “what’s wrong baby…” he asks softly, his hand now on the side of my face, his thumb rubbing tears off my cheek. “i don’t know nick, i just- i don’t want to feel like this… i don’t know what’s happening… i thought i was getting better. i don’t want to nick, i don’t want to…” i cry out, pushing my head onto him again. “shh, you’re okay… i’m with you, i’ve got you. you’re doing the best you can, i know it” his hand brushing against my head, fingers ruffling through my hair more as his chin rests top on my head.

“i- i don’t want to.” my body shakes onto his, his arms squeeze onto me tighter. “you don’t have to okau? i’m here… i’m here for you…” he slowly leans us down, so we lay down on my bed. his arms still holding me as he gives my cheek a kiss before nuzzling his head onto my neck. “i love you so much and i’m here, you’re going to be okay and i’ll help you any way i can.”

i turn to my side, facing nick as i also hold onto him, “i know… and- i love you, i really really love you,” our foreheads press together, as i finally begin to catch my breath more with nick here. we move our bodys, my head beginning to rest on his chest as nick starts falling asleep already, me after him.

☆ °:. *₊ ° . °

taglist : @slutforchriss @mattsleftnipple03 @mattsdinosweater @ccolleenn @mixvchelle @leah-loves-lilies @sturn-wrld @redz0nez9 @cheriematt @freshloveforthefit @nickuniversity @whore4matt @txssvx @teenagetrash00 @matty-bear @venusbabysblog @m0r94n @junnniiieee07 @miloisdone1 @rottingwithglitter @clemlament @tvylorswiftt @krosseyedkori

[bunnyboyjuice]

Boy toy ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

Gojo x black reader, giving oral( Gojo reciving), overstimulation, sloppy sex

Gojo knew how ridiculously horny you got. You were like a succubus always wanting and craving him, and he thought his libido was high oh yours was definitely higher. You were always right on top of him as soon as he came home pressing kisses against his face and clinging to him already. “Sato~ I missed you did you miss me.” You purred in his ear nibbling as his neck and nipping at his jaw.

The blonde could barely even think as he felt you fondling him your nails almost ready to claw through his uniform. “Yea..I did miss you baby.” He breathed out struggling to get any air as you kissed him your lips colliding together your chest pressed against his. You pupils were blown out practically almost all black you couldn’t see that little ring of brown coating your eyes his words music to your ears if you could let him get any out. He’s eyes scanned your body as you pull away from him, and there you were staring right back at him.

Fuck.

He knew what those pretty eyes meant your bedroom eyes had heart coming out of them every nerve in his body knew what that stare meant, and how could he say no. What fool you had to be to say no to the prettiest girl in the world looking up at you like you were a five course meal, and what a fool he was for always taking you up on your offer.

“C-cmon baby slow down ngh! J-just a bit…fuck”

Gojos eyes were rolling the back of his head as you drained him from his 3rd orgasm his grunts and pretty moans fill the room as you get to work. “Maybe you are a succubus?” Gojo tried to think but your mouth was doing wonders to him his eyes filled with tears his teeth gritting as he feels his stomach tightening again. “Ooough! Babybabybaby fuck I’m gonna cum!” He lets out a shuddering moan as tears stream down his face cum painting your throat again. You look up and let go of his dick before pressing a kiss to the tip of it. “Satoru are you ready?” You ask straddling his dick biting your finger with a sly smirk. Before he could answer he felt your sopping cunt swallowing him whole sending a jolt of electricity through his body.

“Mmm Sato your soo big!” You giggled moving your hips in a playful fashion as you bouce on your boyfriend like the boy toy he is. A whimper ripping from Gojo’s throat as he throws his head back. “F-fuck I’m gonna cum!” His hands gripping at your plump ass trying to ground himself. He could feel his orgasm crashing down on him again he was seeing white stars dance in his vision his ears were ringing a warmth running through his body.

He swears everytime you fuck him he’s on cloud nine. Just like that you were ringing another orgasm out of him having him spasming and sobbing. It was just too cute to not ride him some more. “One more Sato I promise.” You bat your eyelashes at him getting him in an open mouth kiss his delicious moans and decadent whines slipping through your lips like there was no tomorrow. Your warm gooey walls holding on to Gojo like it was your last time fucking his eyes glazed over and hazy it was such a beautiful sight making you want him even more. “Sato you look so pretty all fucked out and dumb.” You coo at him before kissing his tears away.

His jaw hanging slack as his hips lazily snap into you before another gush of his seed fills you up. “Please..please baby m’ to sensitive” he babbles feeling your pussy spasming around him more fat tears streaming down his pretty face his white lashes clumped together as he looks up at you he swears he can see demon horns poking out from the sides of you head.

Once things finally calm down you apologize by pressing soft kisses into his neck to replace the bites and hickies you left. Cuddling into him as you run your fingers through his hair. “Can you move or do you need help walking Sato?” You glance at him gently rubbing his shoulders. “To be honest I don’t think I’ll be able to walk all next week if you keep this up.” He says with a chuckle his legs still feel wobbly but he could walk if he rested a little bit more.

He kissed your forehead as he looked down at you. “You’re not gonna surprise me one day and tell your a succubus right?” Gojo muttered as he got more comfortable in bed with you rubbing your back. “Maybe I am you’ll just have to wait and see.” You tease nipping at his neck again.

A/N: this is my first Gojo writing sorry my uterus took over and I had to write this hopefully yall like this it maybe sloppy so sorry for that also my request are open :3

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Best Intentions - Chapter Two

Pairing: Tom Bennett (World on Fire) x f!reader Warnings: Angst. Word count: ~3.2k

Summary: She deals with the fallout of what she saw at the garage and Tom asks a big question. Series masterlist.

Author's note: I don't have a tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

She rushes out to the back room once she gets to the shop, sitting down on a palate of unopened tins of beans, and puts her head in her hands. Having spent the entire walk from the garage trying her best not to cry, she has succeeded, but there’s a tightness in her chest and throat, and a heaviness in her heart.

The image of Tom brushing that woman’s hair behind her ear plays on a loop in her mind, the pit in her stomach feeling as though it widens a little each time. She wants nothing more than to go home and hide under the duvet, pretending it’s all just a bad dream.

Reality comes crashing back down when her mum calls out to her from the front of the shop. “Papers are all done! I’m off now, love. You at Tom’s tonight?”

God, she was supposed to go to Tom’s tonight. How could she now?

“N-no,” she calls back, trying her best to keep her voice steady, “I’ll come home once I’ve closed up.”

“Alright, well it’s corned beef hash for tea. I’ll see you later!”

The thought of food turns her stomach. She swallows thickly, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes, pushing back the way her vision blurs with tears. “Be out front in a minute,” she shouts with more confidence than she feels. “Bye, mum!”

She lets out a heavy exhale once she hears the shop door open then close again, then leaves the back room, determined not to spare Tom a second thought for the rest of the day.

Easier said than done. As the morning bleeds into early afternoon, she feels like she can’t escape him.

She reaches into her pocket, looking for a pen to make a note of which sweets they need to reorder, when her fingers wrap around Tom’s lighter. She pulls it out, turning it over in her hands with a sigh, before placing it on the side of the till. There was no way she’d be going out of her way to give it back now. If he wants it he can get it himself.

There is a steady stream of customers throughout the day, all wanting sweets, newspapers, cigarettes, sugar and various other items, so her mind is given a brief respite. That is until near to closing, when she hears Lois call to her from the stairs that lead up to the flat.

“Would you give me a hand with the pram? These bloody stairs will be the death of me.”

She moves through to the back and up the stairs, smiling at little Vera as the toddler giggles to herself from where she sits in her pram. She grabs the end of it, lifting, and walks back down, as Lois carries the other end.

“You alright? You’re looking a bit peaky.” Lois says, once they’ve set the pram down and she wheels it out through the shop front.

She pauses, taken aback by the question, unsure of how to answer, she can’t possibly tell her the truth.

“Oh…yeah, fine, just a bit tired is all.” She replies with a weak smile.

As she looks up she’s met with the blue eyed stare of Lois, and her heart twists painfully.

Christ, her eyes are so much like Tom’s, it hurts to look at them. If only their lives weren’t so irrevocably entwined.

“Nearly closing time though, eh? Expect you won’t be so tired once you’re round at Tom’s,” she says with a knowing look. “Anyway, I’m off to Connie’s. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

She waves Lois off, flipping the closed sign as she shuts the door behind her, forcing the tears back yet again.

On autopilot, her feet move to take her in the direction of Tom’s flat once she’s locked up, and with agonising realisation she has to turn around and walk back in the direction of home.

She feels numb for the rest of the evening. The tea her mum has lovingly prepared is tasteless in her mouth and goes mostly untouched.

The image of Tom and the woman he was with continues to play on a loop in her mind, until finally she can no longer stand it and takes herself to bed, pulling the duvet firmly over her head.

She is bleary eyed and exhausted the following morning, dragging herself to the shop alongside her mum, to help with the papers. It’s not a job she usually helps out with, and if her mum thinks it odd that she’s suddenly lending a hand then she keeps it to herself.

A few hours later, the lunch hour rush has just died down and she’s tidying the paper sweet bags behind the counter when a familiar voice causes her to freeze.

“Thief!”

She looks up slowly, seeing Tom reach for his lighter beside the till. Her heart drums wildly inside her chest and she swallows thickly, not knowing quite what to say.

“When were you gonna give this back then?” He asks with a grin, before pocketing it. “Been having to light all my fags with a matchbook.”

She feels her skin heat up, biting back the bile and anger that surges up through her throat. How can he be so nonchalant?

“Yeah, sorry…” she says quietly, “I was gonna give it back but then…”

Then I saw you with another woman.

“...then I just didn’t,” she finishes, her voice sounding weak.

Tom quirks an eyebrow, eyeing her with suspicion. “You didn’t come round to mine last night,” he states matter of factly, drumming his fingers softly on the top of the shop counter.

“No,” she says, squirming, avoiding his gaze, keeping her eyes trained on the paper bags in her hands. “I just–”

“Didn’t?” He finishes for her, his eyes narrowing.

It’s then that she looks up, meeting his accusatory stare. How dare he be angry with her? She wants to give him a piece of her mind, and is about to open her mouth to do just that when Lois steps out from the back.

“Thought I heard the pair of you,” she says, rounding the counter. “What you both up to tomorrow night?”

“Depends on why you’re asking,” Tom says, with a smirk and a cock of his head.

“Cheeky!” Lois chides, swatting at him. “Connie’s managed to get us a spot singing at the Ducie tomorrow night, if you fancy it? Been a while since we’ve sung together, should be fun.”

She blanches, not quite knowing what to say, frantically wracking her mind for any excuse to say no. “Won’t you need someone to stop at home with Vera?”

“Your mum’s offered,” she says cheerily.

Shit. Of course she has.

“Oh…oh yeah, I’ll be there then,” she says reluctantly, a tight smile on her face.

“Looks like I will be an’ all then,” Tom says, eyeing her carefully, before looking back at his sister. “S’pose it can’t hurt to listen to your caterwauling if I can have a few pints at the same time.”

Lois rolls her eyes. “Don’t be late! We’re on at seven.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Tom raises his eyebrows and then turns his attention back to her as she stands awkwardly behind the till. “Will I be seeing you tonight then?”

She purses her lips, inhaling deeply through her nose. She doesn’t know what to say, so she doesn’t, simply shaking her head.

“Right”, he says curtly, “tomorrow it is then. Dinner break’s almost over, I’d best be getting back.”

Her shoulders relax once he’s finally gone, and she feels like she can breathe again. There is a part of her that regrets not having it out with him, but she knows her mum’s shop isn’t the place for it. She hopes her rejection of him stings just as much as what she’d been privy to yesterday morning.

Lois looks at her curiously over her shoulder as she moves to go back upstairs. “Something going on there?”

“No,” she replies, going back to tidying the sweet bags, “nothing at all.”

The Ducie Arms is busy when she arrives on Saturday evening, and she finds herself grateful for how hot, crowded and loud it is, no chance of needing to have any awkward conversations.

She keeps a firm grip on her pint glass, eyes scanning the crowd. Those not sitting around tables chatting have gathered near to the pub’s small stage, waiting for Lois and Connie’s set to begin.

She sighs inwardly as she spots Tom in her peripheral vision. He sidles up to her uncertainly, leaning in to be heard above the rowdiness around him.

“Knocked for you on the way here, your mum said you’d left already.”

His breath against the shell of her ear causes her to shudder, and her hold on her glass tightens, focusing on the feeling of the moisture of the condensation that’s gathering on the outside of it to ground herself.

“Didn’t realise you wanted to walk here together, sorry”, she says, keeping her gaze fixed straight ahead.

His nostrils flare slightly, a sign he’s getting annoyed. She bristles, expecting him to say something hurtful, just like he always does when he loses his temper.

“Drink?” He asks, surprising her so much that for a moment her composure almost slips.

She blinks rapidly, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “Got one, thanks” she replies, holding up her pint glass.

“Right. Suit yourself,” he tells her, before pushing through the crowd to the bar.

She is certain that Lois and Connie’s voices harmonise beautifully together, though she is unable to focus on any of the songs they sing. Tom’s intense, annoyed stare feels as though it’s burning a hole in the side of her head. Every time she glances over, he’s staring at her, clearly not paying any more attention than what she is.

As soon as their final song comes to a close, and she’s given them an obligatory clap, she makes a beeline for the doors of the pub, eager to get away.

The relief of the cool night air against her skin is short-lived, as the doors swing back open and Tom follows her out.

“Walk you home?” He offers, hands in his pockets.

“Nah, I’ll be fine, go back inside,” she tells him, beginning to walk away.

Tom jogs ahead, rounding on her, blocking her path. “What the fuck is up wi’ you?!” He stares angrily down at her.

“Nothing, why?” She lies with a shrug.

“You’re acting weird, things aren’t right between us,” he says, sidestepping to stop her retreat.

“We’re mates, aren’t we?” Her voice is meek, in direct conflict with the neutrality she wants to convey. 

“I dunno,” he huffs, “are we? You’ve barely said two words to me the last couple of days, you won’t come round to the flat–”

“Pretty sure you’ve got someone else that can come round in my place,” she snaps, cutting him off.

Tom’s brow furrows, his lips pulling back in confusion. “What are you on about?”

Three days’ worth of pent up emotions erupt as she shouts at him. “I fucking saw you, Tom! Came by the garage to give you your lighter back on Thursday morning and saw you with some woman. You were all over each other!”

His expression remains frozen in confusion for a moment, before his eyebrows raise, realisation dawning, and he lets out a soft chuckle. “You’re mardy over that? You’re jealous?!”

Her fists clench at her sides, her body hot with a mixture of anger and humiliation. She’s unsure whether she wants to smack him or burst into tears. “Oh, piss off!” She spits, pushing past him and striding away down the street.

“Wait!” He calls out after her, quickly catching up with her in long strides. “It’s not what you think, I promise. It’s just…” he sighs, “...they tip if I flirt with them.���

She scowls, nose wrinkling in disgust, not slowing her pace. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?!”

“It’s just flirting, nothing more than that, I swear. I’ve been saving the tips, I figure one day the money will come in handy.”

While it’s a relief to hear he hasn’t been messing around with other women, her feelings still weigh heavily upon her, and it’s clear Tom can see it too.

“What else is botherin’ ya?”

She stops, sighing and running a hand through her hair. “What are we doing, Tom? What is this? Mates don’t get jealous like this.”

His face immediately softens, he reaches for her hand, and she lets him. “The money I’ve been setting aside, it’s for the future, our future. Not as mates, whatever you want us to be.”

“Tommy, I–”

“No, wait! I’ll do you one better. It’s Sunday tomorrow, so the shop’s closed, yeah?”

She nods.

“Good, don’t go out. I’ll come to yours tomorrow, show you exactly what it is that we’re doing.”

This time it’s her turn to stare at him in confusion, her lips pressed in a tight line. “What are you gonna do?”

“Just trust me, alright?”

Tom walks her the rest of the way home in silence, a plume of smoke billowing out behind him from his lit cigarette.

When they reach her front door, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to her forehead. The sensation of having him in such close proximity once more makes her tummy flutter. The gesture is so tender that she feels annoyed at how easy it is for her to forgive him. How can she be angry at him when he looks at her like that, like he needs her?

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah. Night, Tommy.”

“Night, darlin’,” he says with a wink, before walking off down the street.

Her mind races with the possibilities of what he could have planned as she goes to sleep that night. 

The following day she’s filled with nervous energy, unable to keep still as she waits for him to arrive. Unfortunately for her, he isn’t prompt with his arrival and it’s not until she sits at the kitchen table with her mum to peel potatoes for their tea that she hears the door knock.

The potato and peeler she’s holding both clatter to the table top, the legs of the chair scraping noisily against the kitchen floor as she stands abruptly, rushing to answer the front door, wiping her hands on her skirt.

“Your mum in?” Tom asks, as she opens the door, eyes bright and a confident smile on his face.

“Yeah, why?” She asks, eyes narrowing slightly. If he’s come round to ask for a quickie on the sofa she’ll slam the door in his face.

“Need to speak to her,” he says airily, brushing past her.

Her suspicion turns quickly to confusion as she trails after him into the kitchen. Her eyes feel as though they’ll bulge out of her head with shock as she sees him get down on one knee in front of her mum.

“Tom, what-”

He holds up a hand to silence her, continuing to look at her mum. “I’ve come to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

Her mum’s eyebrows shoot up into her hairline, she looks wide eyed from Tom to her, then back again.

For a moment she’s too stunned to speak, and when she finds her voice again it’s quiet and shaky. “Tommy, get up. Please.”

He stands slowly, unsure of himself as his fingers twitch by his sides. She knows that if he had his lighter to hand right now he’d be flicking it.

“I just…I know it’s the proper thing to ask your dad, but he’s not around anymore. Wanted to do right by ya,” he says, and suddenly he’s that little boy again, apologising for pretending to spit in her hair.

“Can we talk?” She asks, her eyes soft with sympathy.

He nods, his gaze lowered and walks out of the kitchen.

“Sorry, mum,” she says, “I’ll explain later, okay? Just need to pop out for a bit.”

Her mum huffs a soft laugh, continuing to peel potatoes. “Fine by me, love.”

They sit on their wall. The same wall that has been a part of so many moments in their lives as they’ve passed sweets back and forth. This time it’s a ring box that Tom passes to her.

She opens it, looking at the delicate gold band nestled within. “It’s beautiful,” she whispers.

“I know it’s not much to look at,” he says apologetically, “was hoping to have a bit more time to save up for something more flash, but maybe I can have a diamond or something added to it once I’ve got the money.”

Her eyes look up from the ring box to Tom. His gaze is so pleading it makes her heart ache and what she’s about to tell him is twice as difficult. “Tom, I can’t marry you.”

“Why not?” He asks, a frown tugging at his brows.

“Because we can’t just jump straight from whatever this is into marriage,” she explains gently, “we’ve never even courted.”

“Courted?!” He says mockingly, a laugh escaping him. “Who d’you think you are?!”

She can’t help the small smile that tugs at the corners of her mouth, as she looks away, embarrassed. “Don’t take the piss.”

“Come on, you and me, it makes sense.”

She chews her lip anxiously. She hates this, hates knocking him back. “We’ve just been mates up until now, you’ve always said that, why do you suddenly want a wife?”

Tom sighs, rolling his eyes. “Just try the ring on, see if it fits.”

“Us getting married isn’t going to suddenly fix everything, Tommy, you’re not well.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

The anger that flashes in his eyes as his jaw ticks and he stares her down causes her to shrink away from him. He’s never looked at her like that before, it frightens her.

“Since you’ve been back, you’re not the same,” she says quietly, turning the ring box around in her hands, “you’re not well. I think–”

“Don’t you fucking dare say shell shock, I swear to god,” he grits out lowly.

“I didn’t say that, I just think you need to speak to someone. Getting married isn’t going to fix anything, Tom,” her tone is pleading, desperate.

“Everything I’ve done, all of it, has always been for you,” he says bitterly. “The thought of coming back to Longsight, back to you, was all that kept me going on that fucking ship. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather spend the rest of my life with, but if you’re able to look at me and not feel the same way then maybe we’re not doing what I think we’re doing.”

A lump forms in her throat, as a void opens in her chest. “What are you saying?”

He swallows, sniffing, fingers drumming nervously on his knees. “Maybe we’re not mates, maybe we’re not anything.”

“Are you finishing with me?” Her voice wobbles, betraying the tears she’s holding back.

“Dunno,” he shrugs, tone suddenly callous as the mask goes back up, “are you giving that ring back?”

She doesn’t want this. Not like this. She sniffs back her tears, cringing at how pathetic the single syllable sounds as it passes her lips. “Yes.”

He exhales, his expression hateful as he nods slowly, taking the box back. “Then yeah, I’m finishing with you.”

Tom jumps down from the wall, walking quickly away and she watches him go. The tears that she’s spent the past four days pushing down spill over in earnest, as her shoulders shake with the force of her sobs.

Not mates. Not anything.

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

It’s Been a While….

Tobio Kageyama x Female! reader (she/her pronouns)

Warnings: slight angst, swearing, mostly fluff

WC: 3.5k

AN: blah idk what to think about this. It stems from an idea I had a dream about but this is one of those times I’m doubting myself. I low key want to write a part two but I also just wanna bury it 😅

Summary: Years after letting go of the love of your life and starting anew, a change provided by a friend allows you a glimpse into your old life and a chance to reconnect with the person you lost.

♥️ ♥️ ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

“So, I guess this is it huh?” You murmured, trying your best to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill as you stood in front of your now ex-boyfriend, Tobio Kageyama.

“YN listen, I-”

You put your hand out, stopping the words that were about to surface. You couldn’t stand to hear them; you couldn’t bare listening to those words again when you knew what was about to happen. If this was going to end, it was going to end on your terms.

“Tobio don’t. Please, let’s just say our goodbyes.” He sadly nodded, his head going down as you stood there, the awkward silence filling the air.

“So, you leave tomorrow morning for Italy, right? Are you all packed?” You asked as Tobio rubbed the back of his head. It was a nervous habit he had developed, something he did when he wasn’t sure how to react.

“Uhh yeah pretty much,” he responded, the silence still penetrating the air. You had tried your best to distract from the obvious but the obvious was beginning to suffocate you.

“Ok well I guess this is goodbye then,” you stuttered, trying to contain the tears. The years of memories flooded back, from the first day you met to your first date and everything beyond. You loved Tobio but you knew love wasn’t enough to keep him here with you. When he was first recruited to play in Italy, your first thoughts weren’t how proud you were of him or how this would only further his career. The only thought that filled your mind was how you’d ever bare letting him go.

“Yeah I guess so,” he whispered still standing in front of you, not wanting to hug you just yet. Hugging you would symbolize what he didn’t want to happen, it would symbolize the end of one of the best things that he’d ever had in his entire life. When he was first accepted to play in Italy, all he could think about was how amazing this opportunity was for him, how awesome it would be for his pro career in volleyball. When he shared the news with you, he hadn’t thought through the logistics of a long-distance relationship. The last thing on his mind at that time was how you’d be able to make it work. He’d never imagined it wouldn’t work.

You lunged forward, throwing your hands around his neck as you held him tightly for one last time, the tears you’d been holding in slowly seeping past your lids as his arms encompassed you, pulling you tight against him. You felt so amazing, so perfect against him and he hated it. He hated how this would be the last time he’d ever feel this serene.

You pulled back first, tears flowing down your cheeks as you looked up to him with a small smile, “I’ll be watching you, ok? So, no slacking off.”

He smiled a little and nodded, watching the tears stream down your cheeks, wanting to do nothing more than kiss them away. You slowly backed away, creating distance from him, your legs feeling so incredibly heavy as if trying their best to keep you planted.

He watched as you finally turned around, your arms going around your midsection as you hugged yourself and walking away and right out of his life.

*A Few Years Later*

Your phone rang as you checked the called id, sighing and swiping your finger across to answer the call.

“What do you want now Kuroo?” You ordered as a surprise gasp sounded from the speaker as he finally spoke.

“YN how could you hurt me like this! I thought I was your favorite person?”

You smiled and shook your head, “not by a long shot Kuroo but you are in the top 20. Is that good enough?”

Kuroo chuckled, replying, “I’ll take it! But listen, I called for a specific reason this time. I’m putting together a sort of reunion and I need my favorite photographer ever to help me!”

“Then why did you call me?” You chuckled as Kuroo laughed in response.

“YN, you know how much I love your work and you really are the best in the business!”

You sighed again, knowing Kuroo was trying his best to be flattering, “ok so what’s this reunion? Like a class reunion or what?” The silence filled the call after you spoke as confusion filled your eyes. You pulled your phone away to check if Kuroo was still connected.

“Kuroo-”

“It’s for a volleyball event YN,” he finally responded as your body stiffened. You hadn’t photographed a volleyball event since Tobio had left a few years ago, shifting your passion in a different direction.

“Kuroo I can’t-”

“YN please just hear me out, ok? I know you don’t photograph sports anymore but please, I’m desperate here. There isn’t anyone who can capture the game like you can. I’ve pulled a lot of our high school alumni into this game, and I think it would be awesome if you’d consider it. Kenma’s sponsoring and promoting the event and Asahi is helping with the uniform design. Yachi is also helping with marketing and design. Imagine if we had YN LN, the famous photographer and Karasuno Alum to photograph the event!”

When you first met Kuroo years ago, you were a first-year manager along with Yachi. You’d always thought he was a great leader and organizer as well as a person who could flatter almost anyone if he tried. He channeled his personality perfectly into his career in sports promotion, able to secure deals and push the volleyball league further than it has been in decades.

You looked over to your bookshelf, your eyes landing on the only memory you’d kept from your relationship with Tobio, a photo from his last game with the Schweiden Adlers. You walked over to it, picking it up and rubbing your finger gently down the side of the frame. In the photo you were looking at the camera, smile wide as you hand rested on Tobio’s chest. His eyes weren’t on the camera but rather on you, his large smile and eyes completely focused on you as if nothing happening around him mattered at all.

“YN you still there?”

“I’ll do it,” you bluntly spoke, an auditable and loud “yes” coming from the speaker as Kuroo continued to talk.

“You won’t regret this, Yn!! I’ll text you the details and we can meet in my office soon to discuss what you’ll be doing! I really appreciate this Yn and I owe you big time!”

You didn’t really hear much Kuroo spoke about, your eyes still focused on the photo as you began to wonder if this really was the right choice.

*A few weeks later*

“We just need headshots of all the players who are participating who are currently in Japan, the rest are going to submit their headshots to me,” Kuroo directed as you prepared your camera, making adjustments to lighting and the background as you half listened.

Exasperated, you mindlessly nodded for the 50th time as Kuroo continued to ramble, his nerves on edge since he’d returned from his trip overseas to secure several more players from the “monster generation” to play on the reunion game.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite girl!” A voice boomed as you turned around to see Atsumu, Bokuto, Sakusa and Inunaki walking into the studio. You smiled, placing your camera down as you went to greet the guys.

“Well, if it isn’t one of my favorite setters,” you joked as Atsumu pulled back from the hug, mouth agape as you chuckled at his reaction.

“Come on Yn, be realistic, he isn’t even in the top 10 on your favorite setters list,” Sakusa grumbled, walking to the corner as Atsumu glared at him.

“Hey hey hey there’s my Yn!” Bokuto shouted, hauling you into a huge hug as you squealed, your feet leaving the floor as he swung you around.

“Bokuto don’t break her!” Hoshiumi snapped from behind him, Hirugami, Romero and Heiwajima trailing after.

“Hey guys!” You cheered, letting go of Bokuto and running to hug them.

“It’s so good to see you again Yn! We were surprised to hear you were involved with this,” Romero remarked as you nodded.

“Surprised but happy!” Hoshiumi added as he hugged you.

“Well, Kuroo begged me to help so I really couldn’t say no,” you smirked as Kuroo narrowed his eyes.

“Geez Yn stop making me seem so desperate!”

“YN doesn’t need to make you seem desperate when you definitely are desperate,” Kenma stated, strolling in behind the teams as you snickered.

“Kenma you really weren’t needed you know!” Kuroo growled as Kenma shrugged his shoulders and headed to take a seat in the corner.

“I heard Oikawa and Hinata were coming too,” Heiwajima remarked as Kuroo confirmed.

“They are going to be flying in next week along with Ushijima and Kageyama.”

All eyes shifted to you at the mention of Kageyama’s name. You really couldn’t blame the guys; they knew you and Kageyama had ended on good terms but also that your relationship had been a sore subject and ultimately the reason you left sports photography.

You had to admit, when Kuroo first mentioned Tobio, a fact he’d somehow forgotten to mention prior to your meeting, you’d thought about dropping out, the idea of seeing your ex-boyfriend and the only man you’d ever loved extremely painful. However, you couldn’t ignore the small part of you that was also excited to see him in person. Sure, you’d watched every game you could, every interview possible. You’d watched the Olympics and even bought a jersey to add to your collection, something you’d never ever let anyone see.

“It’s fine guys,” you explained, “really I’m happy to be a part of this.”

Everyone nodded, not wanting to push the topic. While the guys had always been chaotic and kind of childish, they did care for your well-being, and they loved you.

“Now we let’s get these photos done!”

“Alright, the greatest first!” Atsumu beamed and Inunaki laughed.

“You should be last Sumu, you’ll probably break YN’s camera!” Everyone laughed at Sumu’s expense as you felt the joy of being reunited with the people you once spent so much time with.

*2 weeks later*

You arrived at the stadium, camera and press badge in hand as you adjusted your dress. You’d done your hair and makeup, wanting to look nice and professional for the event. This would be the first game you’d photographed in years, and you wanted to make a good impression. The crowds roared as you entered the gym, the bright lights hitting you as you looked around to see reporters, tv crews and officials fill the gym floor.

Kuroo waved at you as you walked over to him, noticing how truly huge the event was.

“You look great Yn! Absolutely gorgeous!” Kuroo yelled, the noise on the stadium floor loud as you blushed as his compliment.

“This is amazing Tetsuro! You really pulled this off!” Kuroo beamed with pride as you looked around, the photos you’d taken of the the players printed on banners that filled the stadium. You’re eyes trailed until they landed on Tobio’s banner, his face exactly as you remembered it. You smiled a little, looking around at the crowds.

Daichi, Suga, Asahi, Yamaguchi, Tsukki and Yachi all waved as you smiled and vigorously waved back, excited to see your old teammates.

You saw Kenma in his box, probably waiting for Kuroo as he gave you a chin lift and returned back to his phone. You noticed others from high school in the stands as you stood in the grandness of the court. You’d truly missed this feeling.

The whistle blew as Kuroo squeezed your arm and excused himself. You took your place on the side of the court as the teams were finally presented.

Team A parades out first, their flashy style of green and black jersey’s adding just the right pop of color. Oikawa and Hinata smiled and waved at you as you snapped their pictures, capturing the best angles you could.

Team B followed shortly after, their gold uniforms giving the perfect amount of class and sophistication. You wanted as Ushiwaka, Bokuto and Hoshiumi strolled across the floor, Bokuto frantically waving to the crowd as you giggled at his boisterous spirit.

Your eyes shift to Joffe who followed and to Inunaki right after. You were checking your camera before looking up, your eyes dead locked on Tobio’s as he stopped mid stride, his eyes widening as of in shock.

Tobio knew he would see you here, after all, it was a big part of the reason he agreed to join in this reunion game. He had thought about you almost constantly since leaving years ago, hoping he’d once again get the chance to see your beautiful face. He’d been preparing for weeks, going over how he’d casually walk by you, nod his head and try to act cool. He’d even prepared a few things to say to you if the opportunity present itself.

However, all his past thoughts and plans went straight out the window upon seeing you. You stood there, more breathtaking than he’s ever imagined. Your hair and makeup were flawless and your outfit fit your body like a glove. His mind drifted back to all of the times he’d made you laugh, all the times you’d spent together since meeting in high school. His heart hammered thought his chest, his jersey feeling as thought it was rippling from the aftershock.

You stood there, a small smile on your gorgeous face as you lifted your camera to snap his picture. Your eyes watered upon seeing him, something you’d known would probably happen.

“Kageyama moves dude!” Yaku whisper shouted as Kageyama snapped back to reality, his brain processing that he was holding up the line of his teammates.

“Oh sorry-” he apologized as he glanced forward and made his way to the starting line. His mind emptied of every thought he’d had, filing instead with your imagine as it implanted itself in his brain. At the greeting line, he turned to see you now staring back at him, the same sweet smile he loved plastered on your flawless face.

You couldn’t help but smile at him. Tobio was almost exactly as you’d remembered him. Sure, he was a little bit bigger; he’d obviously gained some muscle and matured since living in Italy but deep down, he was still the same boy you’d remembered from high school. Your heart fluttered just watching him, the memories of all your time spent together flooding your brain.

“We’d like to welcome you all to tonight’s special match. Team A vs Team B, a mash up of Japan’s best!” The announcer rang as the crowds cheered. You quickly made work of snapping as many pictures as you could, moving from side to side to capture the men’s forms prior to the game.

You’d been known as a legend in the sports world, your talent for photography starting in high school and only furthering afterwards. Your photos made the cover of many Japanese magazines, thanks to help from Akaashi as well as covers world wide. Noya would often send you texts, showing you how he’d send your photos all across the globe on his travels. Even Hinata had snapped a selfie or two with your magazine covers.

Tobio watched as you worked, following your every move as he prepared to warm up. He loved how passionate you were about photography. Since moving to Italy, he’d continued to follow your career collecting magazines that features your photographs and following your instagram page. He never interacted with you but that didn’t mean he didn’t order prints and support whatever projects you partook in, donating money to fundraisers you sponsored.

As the warmups began, you took your place at the side of the court. You watched as Hinata, Goshiki, and Romero all spiked. Balls slammed on the floor as the memories of your days photographing volleyball continued to flood your mind. You chuckled as you remembered how many times you’d nearly been hit or how many times Tobio would pull you off the court because he didn’t trust someone not to harm you.

He’s been protective of you even in High school, Hinata often teasing him about how he treated you like you were made of glass. In hindsight, Hinata probably knew better than anyone that his best friend was in love with you way back in high school.

You turned back to see Kageyama holding a volleyball, his focus still on you as you exited the court for the teams to switch. He shifted his attention back to the spikers as he took his place near the net. You were caught in the moment, his beautiful and perfect set gliding through the air as Bokuto slammed it into the opposing court, the crowd cheering him on. Tobio hadn’t changed, not one bit.

The game started as you began maneuvering the court, trying to capture as many shots as possible. The energy was palpable as you moved all around. Set after set, you found yourself drawn into every single play, every single serve and spike. This is why you loved volleyball.

At the end of the game, you tried to compose yourself, coming down from the high of an incredible match. You’d managed to run through nearly three memory cards, taking well over a thousand pictures of just the game itself. The guys took pictures with fans after the match as interviewers and Tv personnel flocked to their sides.

However, your job was complete, the requirements set forth by Kuroo full-filled. You walked over to your camera bag and began to disassemble and put away your equipment. Unbeknownst to you, someone had followed you.

Tobio stood a mere two feet behind you, his eyes tracking your bent over form as he tried to gather up the courage to speak to you. He’d never had a problem speaking his mind, never an issue telling people what he thought but for some reason, his mouth was incredibly dry despite drinking an excessive amount of water.

He watched as you fiddled with your camera bag, the same bag he’d gifted you for graduation years ago. It was your favorite color and just the right size. His chest filled with pride knowing you were still using it, that you’d still been keeping him close.

While he was staring, you’d turned around, startling and grabbing your chest in surprise at the giant, 6’2” setter standing behind you.

“Good god Tobio you scared me!” You laughed, your hand over your chest as you tried to regain composure.

“I-damn, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to- I was just wanting to… hi YN,” he finally stuttered out as you smiled up at him, his beautiful blue eyes lighting up with joy.

“Hi Tobio. Long time no see!”

“Yeah it’s been a while,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head, “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Me too! You did amazing out there. I’d forgotten how different seeing you playing in person was!” You added as he lowered his hand down.

“Seeing me in play in person?”

“Yeah silly, I told you’d I’d be watching you. I meant it. I’ve watched every game,” you answered. He knew you wouldn’t lie to him but just hearing you say it, after wondering for years if you were watching, it made him feel incredible.

“Hey Yn, I’m in town for another week, would you maybe consider having dinner with me?” He inquired, desperately hoping you’d agree to meet with him.

You eyes widened at his question. You hadn’t been expecting this, hadn’t been expecting him to ask you to dinner. You’d thought he might say something to you but never this. Before you could answer, he continued.

“If not it’s ok, it’s just that, well I’ve been thinking about you since I left, and I’d really like to catch up. But if you don’t want to-”

“I’d love to Tobio,” you replied as he jerked back a little.

“Wait really?” You giggled at his reaction as you nodded in confirmation.

“I’ve been thinking about you to, and I’d love to go out with you.” He smiled down at you as your beautiful doe eyes met his.

“Hey Kageyama! Come on man we are going out to celebrate!” Hinata shouted as he waved to you. You waved back as Kageyama looked conflicted between you and Hinata.

“Go and have fun, ok? Text me tomorrow and we will make a plan to meet,” you assured him, squeezing his bicep as he smiled back and nodded. He turned, running towards the locker rooms before stopping and turning back. He ran back up to you as you watched in confusion before being swept up into a tight hug, your body instantly relaxing as you hugged him back. Yep, you definitely missed this.

[thebearchives]

i want to write you a song | CL16

PAIRING: charles lecler x singer!reader

REQUESTED: [X] yes [] no

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

SYNOPSIS: you share your newest song with charles, a song you had written about him, for him. as he listens, you think back to the memories that inspired each lyric.

WARNINGS: fluff with very minimal hurt/comfort, some french translations

A/N: i feel like this is so shitty, so i apologize to the anons who requested this </3, also HEAVILY inspired by i want to write you a song by one direction so stream it as you listen (if you'd like)

as always, don't be a ghost reader!

“okay, are you ready?” your eyes were wide with excitement as you turned to look at charles, finger hovering over the play button on spotify.

charles adjusted the earbud in his ear, his other hand reaching over to squeeze your own that sat in your lap, “always. i can’t wait to hear it.”

you smiled, “i’m gonna press play, okay?”

charles gave you a wide smile and nodded excitedly, “let’s do this!”

your finger pressed against the play button and the familiar strumming of your guitar began coursing through your ears. charles’ hand tightened against yours again once your voice cut through the instruments.

i wanna write you a song; one as beautiful as you are sweet

you stared up at charles’ face as he slept peacefully, long eyelashes brushing against his cheeks. you couldn’t help but envy his ability to shut his brain off and sleep, for your own was running faster than charles’ bright red ferrari. the longer you stared at charles, the more your thoughts crowded your mind. 

you reached forward and lightly brushed his hair back away from his forehead. god, he was so beautiful–your beautiful muse, who had no idea how much he inspired you with every word and action. 

you pushed yourself up and out of bed, the inspiration running wild within your head. your fingers itched for your songwriting notebook, settling into your spot on the alcove. the ideas flowed from your mind to the blank paper, filling line after line about the way charles made you feel.

with just a hint of pain for the feeling that i get when you are gone

“i miss you,” you frowned at the phone in your hand.

“i miss you more, mon ange,” charles’ voice was soft, “but i’ll see you in two days, okay?”

“but that’s so far away,” you couldn’t help but whine. you knew you were being overdramatic, but you couldn’t help it. 

it was the last race weekend of the triple header, and the race was tomorrow afternoon. after his race, charles would be packing his bags and heading back to monaco to see you again. you had only been able to go with charles to the first weekend, having to stay home for the next two weeks due to your album deadline that was approaching fast.

you watched as charles’ lips curved upwards on your phone screen, “but i’ll be yours for the entirety of the summer break, amour.”

you let out a puff of air, “i hate this.”

“i know, i do too. if your deadline hadn’t been on monday, i would have flown you out instantly.” 

“not if i did it first,” you laid back on the bed, turning to your side and holding the phone up against the pillow, “if i had it my way, i’d have been with you for the entire three weeks.”

“if i had it my way, i’d have every race in monaco so i’d never have to leave home.” 

his words made you smile, “what about the curse?” 

charles chuckled, “mon amour, no curse in the world is strong enough to go against my luckiest charm. you’re undefeated.”

“hm, maybe you should say this after you finally win a home race,” you couldn’t help but laugh at the way his face dropped.

“that was rude, ange,” charles frowned, “i was trying to be romantic.”

“sorry,” you giggled, “you are very romantic, please continue.”

“no, i don’t think i will now,” charles crossed his arms across his chest. after a beat, he dropped them, “isn’t it late for you?”

you nodded, a yawn escaping your lips, “couldn’t sleep without you. ‘s been like this all two weeks.”

a sigh escaped his lips, “‘m sorry, ange. i promise to give you all the cuddles once i’m back.”

“you better.”

charles watched as your eyes slowly shut, bidding you a goodnight. both your hearts ached at the sound of the call ending, wishing you could have been with the other.

you opened your eyes, gazing at the phone in your hand longingly. you wanted to call him back. you wanted to tell him again how much you missed him, and how the house felt empty without his presence, and how your bed felt so much bigger and colder without him in it. but you refrained, closing your eyes and willing yourself to go to sleep. 

tomorrow, you would fall asleep again and wake up to charles coming home, but for tonight, you’d sleep alone for another night. 

i wanna lend you my coat; one that's as soft as your cheek

you couldn’t help but giggle as you watched charles try to hide his shiver. said brunette narrowed his eyes at you, a pout gracing his pink lips.

“stop laughing at me,” he tugged on the hand that he was holding onto, cold fingers intertwined with your warmer ones, “i’m not cold!”

you let go of his hand, moving both of your hands to cup his red cheeks, “mon ange, your hand has been trembling for the past five minutes. please, just admit you’re cold.”

charles grumbled but made no move to remove your hands from his numb face. you were so warm. 

“‘m not cold, promise,” he mumbled quietly, though his head snuggled into your palms further. in return, you caressed his soft cheeks with your thumb, trying to warm them up.

“so if i pull my hands away right now, you’d be fine with that?”

charles frowned, “no.”

you smirked, “so you are cold!” 

the silence made you laugh loudly. you moved your hands away from charles’ face and turned around. after a beat, you turned your head to look at charles, “well?”

at his confused gaze, you continued, pushing your hands into your coat’s pockets, “are you gonna join or no?”

charles smiled, moving closer to your body and placing his hands into your pockets alongside yours. you held back a flinch at his cold hands, intertwining your fingers and tugging him closer. his back pressed against yours and he sighed happily, nuzzling the rose-tinted tip of his nose against the back of your head. 

“merci,” charles pushed your intertwined hands forward, wrapping his arms around you as best as he could, “though, i have to assure you, i was not cold.”

“of course not.”

so when the world is cold, you will have a hiding place you can go

you had lost your coat.

you had looked everywhere for it. suitcases, bed, closet, laundry. everywhere. you’d even asked your manager if she had seen it anywhere, be it in any of your hotel rooms throughout the tour, or even in the tour bus that had just been returned to the agency. no such luck.

charles could sense your frustration over the video call, eyebrows furrowed as he watched you tear apart your shared bedroom, “amour, why are you destroying our room?”

you huffed, plopping down on the bed, “i can’t find my coat!”

charles’ body tensed, eyes flickering off-screen before instantly landing back on your sulking figure. he cleared his throat, “which coat?”

“the teddy coat! the big one that you always say swallows me whole whenever i wear it,” your pout was adorable, and had charles not have been panicking over the fact that the very coat you were looking for was with him, he would have cooed over how cute you looked.

“ah,” charles scratched the side of his neck, “why do you need it?”

“i don’t know,” you shrugged, “i just wanted to wear it out today. but now, i can’t! because i can’t find it. you know how much i love that coat–hell, even you love that coat, and now i’ve lost it!”

the awkward chuckle that left charles’ mouth made you raise your head. you narrowed your eyes at him, watching as his face became sheepish, “you didn’t.”

charles broke, “i’m sorry!”

“charles! i’ve been looking for it everywhere!”

“i’m sorry! je suis désolé!” he repeated, getting closer to the camera, “i only brought it with me because i knew you couldn’t come to the race this weekend and it’s so cold here.”

“but, char, that’s why you have your coats,” you whined, “not mine!”

“the reason i brought your coat instead of mine,” charles’s cheeks turned a slight pink as he realized he would have to explain himself completely, “was because it smells like you.”

you were so still, charles thought his laptop froze. when he realized you weren’t frozen, he continued, “your coat feels like home. it’s comforting.”

“char,” you started, “you should have told me.”

charles’ cheeks flushed a deeper red and he covered his face with his hands. “no,” his voice was muffled, “it’s so embarrassing.”

“no, it’s not!” you gasped, “mon amour, look at me.”

charles looked at you through his fingers, “i’m looking. mais, s'il vous plaît, ne me regardez pas. je suis embarrassé.” but, please, don’t look at me. i’m embarrassed.

“il n'y a aucune raison d'être embarrassé,” there's nothing to be embarrassed about. you smiled, “i find it very endearing. i just wish i could be there in person instead. ‘m sorry.”

charles’ face appeared from behind his hands, a soft smile planted on his lips, “‘s not something you need to apologize for, mon amour. i understand.”

in the background, you could hear someone calling for charles. your boyfriend gave you a cheeky smile, “wish me luck, ange!”

“well, you’ve got my lucky coat with you, no?”

right before he hung up, charles groaned, “mon dieu, i knew you would tease me!”

and while charles may have known that you’d tease him, he had no idea that carlos was in on it too, sending you pictures of the monégasque wrapped up in your big teddy coat, fast asleep with his arms wrapped around himself.

i wanna build you a boat; one as strong as you are free. so any time you think that your heart is gonna sink, you know it won't

another sunday, another race that went to shit. 

charles flopped onto the bed in his driver room, angry with the way his race had gone. the first race you had joined him for in weeks, and he just had to go and crash his car into the wall. god, you must think he was the worst driver on the grid.

charles pushed the heels of his palms against his eyes, willing himself to not shed tears. he knew you’d be knocking on his door soon enough, and he didn’t want to seem weak in front of you. he felt his heart sink at the thought of facing you. why couldn’t this race have just gone well?

like he predicted, a knock sounded from behind his closed door, your voice lightly calling out his name.

“come in,” charles cursed himself for his shaky voice.

stepping inside the room, you felt your heart crack at the sight of your boyfriend. you couldn’t see his face, but his ears were red and his chest was moving at a rapid pace. you closed the door behind you, making your way to the ferrari driver.

“oh, charles,” you cooed, kneeling against the bed, hand brushing his hair back softly.

charles pushed his palms in deeper, rubbing to get rid of the tears that had managed to spill out. his voice was just but a whisper as he spoke, “i’m okay.”

you frowned, “you’re not, and that’s okay, charles. you don’t always have to put on a brave face and pretend like you’re not hurting,” you reached to grab his hands, pulling them away from his eyes, “especially not in front of me.”

charles’ eyes were red and glossy with the tears threatening to spill out. you cupped his face with your hands, “it’s okay to cry, mon amour. you can let it out.”

it was like your words were the key to the gate charles had locked. he blinked once, twice, and the tears began to flow. charles pushed himself closer to you, and you let him cry until he couldn’t anymore.

his hushed sobs turned into sniffles, “i’m sorry.”

you shook your head, moving down so that you could catch his eyes with your own, “you have nothing to be sorry for, mon amour.”

“i do,” he was adamant, sitting up on the bed and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, “i’m a driver for ferrari, i shouldn’t be making these stupid mistakes and causing more trouble for everyone else. i’m better than this. i need to be better than this.”

“you’re being too hard on yourself, charles,” you made sure he was looking at you, “you can have bad days and bad races. just because you drive for a top team doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to make mistakes.”

charles opened his mouth to argue but you continued, “you’re right, you drive for ferrari. hell, you have the longest contract with them. but why is that?”

charles stayed quiet, listening to you. his eyes were still red, yet the glossiness had gone away, now wide with interest.

“it’s because they know what kind of driver you are, charles,” you grabbed his hands, giving them a squeeze, “they chose you because they know that you’ve got so much talent that’s just waiting to be let out. a few bad races is nothing. if anything, it’s expected. don’t beat yourself over it. nobody is perfect, okay? no driver has a record with no bad races.”

he had never anticipated you to be this passionate when it came to his career. hell, he had been expecting you to be just as disappointed as the media, focused solely on his faults. 

his eyes were watery again, this time for a completely different reason. his lips twitched, a slight smile forming on his face.

“this race doesn’t define you, charles,” you gave him a small smile, “don’t let it overshadow your success and accomplishments. i’m so proud of how far you’ve gotten, mon amour, no race result would ever make me stop being proud of you.”

“mon dieu,” his voice was breathy, “je t’adore.”

you let out a choked laugh, not expecting such a response, “et je t’adore, aussi. now, were you listening or did i just ramble for no reason?”

“i was listening,” it was charles who squeezed your hands this time, intertwining your fingers together afterwards, “you’re just so amazing. tu es vraiment mon ange.” you really are my angel. 

it was funny how fast the situation had flipped. just moments ago, you had worked yourself up to the point where you nearly cried as you comforted charles, and now, you were trying to hide your blushing cheeks from him.

you whined out his name in embarrassment, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“i’m serious,” it was nice to see him smiling again, “you just have such a way with words, mon amour. i’m so glad i have you by my side, especially in moments like these.”

“was just being honest,” you shrugged, “nothing special.”

“‘nothing special’? mon amour, you just took away all my anger and disappointment with a few words, you’re the most special,” charles placed a kiss against your forehead, “thank you for being here, mon ange.”

you gave him a smile, “i’ll be here whenever you need me, charles. always and forever.”

and just like that, the sinking feeling in charles’ chest had disappeared, now replaced with the sheer happiness and joy that you brought along with you. he helped you up from where you had been sitting, before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you down to lie with him on his bed. the quiet sniffles had been replaced with loud laughs and giggles as the race disappeared from your minds.

everything i need i get from you, and giving back is all i wanna do

you had gotten into music at a young age, preparing performances for your parents as a birthday gift because all your other siblings had made them cards and you wanted to be different. music quickly became your way of giving back to others.

you wrote songs for your family and friends, to return all the support they showed you. songs for your fans, to show how much you appreciate them. and songs for charles, to give back all the love he had given you over the years.

which lead you to this moment in time; sharing your newest song with your beloved, one written about him, for him, for the first time ever. it was his birthday gift.

“so, do you like it?” the nerves showed clearly in your expression. 

“like it?” charles cupped your cheeks, squishing them slightly, “amour, i love it!”

your eyes widened slightly, “really?”

charles hummed, “of course, i do. i love every song you write, and this one’s about me so i love it even more.”

charles could feel your smile growing against his palm, “i’ve written songs about you before, char.”

he dropped his hands from your cheeks, face showing utter shock, “what? you have?”

you nodded your head, a bubble of laughter erupting from your mouth, “of course, i have! i write love songs, and i’ve been in love with you for years. who did you think i was writing about?”

“are they released yet?” his eyes were wide in wonder, “have i heard them before?”

to tease him, you began pondering, index finger tapping against your chin, “hm, have you?”

charles gripped your arm, shaking it, “ah! you can’t do this, tell me, y/n/n! please!”

you laughed loudly, head tilting back in delight, “you have! you have! now stop shaking me, please, my arm is gonna fall off.”

“which song?” the shaking stopped but his hand remained on your arm.

you gave him a cheeky smile, “well, i can’t make it that easy for you. figure it out on your own.”

he whined out your name, “but it’s my birthday! you have to be nice to me on my birthday!”

“i am being nice!” you gaped at him, “i wrote you a song! and let you listen to it before i released it!”

“but it doesn’t count when i don’t know what other songs you’ve written about me,” his frown was adorable, and you couldn’t help but reach forward and push the corners of his lips up.

“fine,” you leaned forward and placed a quick peck on his pout, “i’ll tell you, but only because it’s your birthday.”

charles smiled brightly, holding up his pinky, “and because it’s my birthday, you have to pinky promise that you’ll always tell me when a song is about me.”

“now, you’re pushing it, birthday boy.”

i wanna write you a song; one to make your heart remember me. so any time i'm gone, you can listen to my voice and sing along

ted gestured for the cameraman to record the ferrari garage. decked out in his red gear, charles sat with his earbuds in, and eyes closed while his lips mouthed along to whichever song he’s listening to.

“and here we have mister charles leclerc, in his natural habitat listening to some tunes,” ted spoke into his mic, making his way over to front of the garage. 

charles opened his eyes, catching sight of ted and smiling. he pulled out an earbud and gave the camera a smile, “hello, ted. how are you doing today?”

“ah, i’m doing great. how are you?” the reporter smiled back at the driver.

“good, good. i was just trying to get into the zone, you know?” charles gestured towards the track behind them, “big race today.”

ted nodded, “of course. now, i’m sure the people will want to know, so i’m just going to ask you this now,” charles nodded, and ted continued, “what songs do you listen to to ‘get into the mood’, as you put it?”

the dimples on charles’ cheeks became apparent as he smiled widely, he pushed his phone forward and turned it around so both the camera and ted could see what he was playing. 

ted let out a laugh when he registered your familiar name and song title, “ah, of course, should have seen it coming.”

charles laughed along with ted, “yes, yes. y/n just released a new album and it is very, very good.”

“and as you said, y/n’s music gets you in the zone?” ted raised his eyebrows, an intrigued look on his face, “do explain for us, charles.”

charles’ face got visibly pinker, “well, ehm, as you know, y/n is my lovely, lovely partner, and so, whenever i’m away from them, i listen to their songs because they–” he scratched his neck sheepishly, “–help ground me and keep me in a calm headspace.”

“aw, well isn’t that just adorable?” ted smiled at the camera, already envisioning how the fans at home would be reacting to charles’ answer.

charles chuckled shyly, “ah, yes, i guess so. i am very lucky, i get to hear my partner’s voice whenever, wherever. even when they’re not around.”

ted nodded, “well, i’ll let you get back to it, then. good luck, charles! i’ll see you after the race, hopefully.”

charles bid ted goodbye, turning back into the garage. he pushed the earbuds back into his head, your soft voice entering his ears once again. god, you were going to tease the hell out of him for that interview.

— present

the guitar strums faded, and you waited for charles to open his eyes with a bated breath. his eyes opened, searching before the landed on your figure. a warm smile graced his lips and he let out a breathy laugh.

“that was amazing,” his eyes were shining brightly, “c'était si beau.” that was so beautiful.

“you think so?” you let go of the breath you had been holding, “tu es honnête?” you’re being honest?

charles nodded his head rapidly, “why would i lie? mon amour, that was so, so good. are you sure you wrote it for me?”

you let out a chuckle, “no actually, it’s for carlos. do you think he’ll like it?”

charles’ jaw dropped, and you laughed loudly, “i’m kidding, of course it’s for you.” 

you pushed yourself closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder, “everything i write is for you.”

charles wrapped his arm around your body, pulling you closer, ”thank you for all the beautiful words.”

you smiled against his chest, “anytime.” 

he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss against your temple, “je t’aime, amour.”

“je t’aime plus.” i love you more.

[braineater444]

To Be a Princess

Chapter 1

Start/Next

fem!reader x kokonoi

TW: Violence, Kidnapping, Abuse, Death, Blood, Strained Mother/Daughter relationships (other trigger warnings to be added)

Synopsis: What is a good relationship without its ups and downs? You and Hajime have never had a serious down until now. You can run away, but it's never that easy.

“My mother texted me,” Exasperation coats your vocal cords. A smirk paints your face when you see Koko roll his eyes, still looking down at his paperwork. You should be in bed, but the multiple sharp dings of your mother's messages forced you awake. Now, you can’t go back to sleep.

His eyes settle on you, a fond smile brightening his features. “Well, good morning to you, too.” His attention is on you as you make your way further into his office and sit on his desk to peek over at the papers he’s going through. You could count every crystal in the chandelier above you through its reflection in his eyes as he gazes up at you.

“Good morning.” You giggle when you lean down to kiss him. His chin rests in your palm as you guide him towards you. The moment your lips meet, you feel all the tenseness leave his body.

“What did she say?” He rests his head in his hand.

“Something about reconnecting and wanting to see me. I don’t know, I didn’t really read it.”

His brows furrow, and he leans back in his chair. You take him in. He smells of Bibliothèque by Byredo he bought a while ago, a recent favorite of his. The fruitiness and woodiness add an air of maturity to his already put-together demeanor. It makes sense for someone so beautiful. He shakes his head. “But if you want to, I won’t stop you.”

You smooth over your silk nightgown and shrug. You consider his face for a moment. His red eyeliner isn’t on. His skin and eyes look dull. His hair is pulled back into a half bun, half ponytail fusion. He yawns.

“How long have you been up?” You remember going to bed with him last night. When you woke at three to get water and crawled back into bed, he was there and pulled you back into his chest to cuddle. You know he’s slept, but for how long?

“I don’t know...” He taps his phone to check the time. “Maybe since five or six? My boss called and asked me if I could rush some stuff.”

His workaholic tendencies make your head hurt sometimes. You’ve told him before that you think he’ll die at that desk. “And when he called, you just got up and started working?” He rolls his eyes. “Koko, did you even eat?”

“No.”

“You’re going to have a heart attack in this office.”

“But I’ll leave you so much.” He smiles playfully, but none of this is funny.

“It’s not funny! Let’s go out for breakfast.” You hop off of his desk and head towards the door. You look back and see that his head is in his papers again. “Now!” With that, he’s moving.

✮✮✮

“Mom?” You try to sound composed over the phone as tears stream down your cheeks. You’re unsuccessful, and she starts to scramble and beg you to tell her what’s happened. You can’t. Your throat hurts and you still can’t process what’s going on. “I’m- I’m at a ho-hotel right now,” You sniffle and cough and wipe away snot. “I’m going to take a trai-n and be there tomorrow.”

You grow nauseous as your mom pleads with you to tell her what’s wrong. You hang up and collapse into a ball on the floor. Sobbing doesn’t help, but it’s the only thing you can do right now. It’s the first time since you left that you’ve had time to break down.

You fall asleep like that.

The next morning, you wake up in pain. Your eyes burn, your mouth is dry, and your bones ache. This is the lowest your life has been since meeting Hajime and possibly the worst it could be. Rock bottom. And as much as you miss the feel of your bed and his kisses on your cheeks telling you it will be alright; you know better than to return.

“It’s not his fault.” That’s what you’d thought when you came into his office last night to see the guest, you’d let in slumped over in a chair with a bullet through his head.

There had been no commotion until the sound of the gunshot. You had run to check on Hajime only to find out he was the assailant. You hadn’t even known he had a gun. Why would he have a gun? And why would he kill a random client of his? They came over all the time and nothing like this had happened before. It couldn’t have been him. Why would he do this?

You hadn’t even reacted when you saw it. You only felt your heart drop and your body tremble. Brain matter, blood, and little bone fragments covered the room. The man’s eyes were glossed over with no life inside of them. Your heart was on track to beat out of your chest and maybe you were going to pass out, but you had said little to Hajime in the moment. You stood in shock for a second before he opened his mouth to say something you didn’t quite hear, too busy processing the scene.

“Do you need help to clean?” Were all the words your mouth could form. Neither of you had expected that to be the first thing to find its way off of your tongue. Mouth agape, he nodded slowly and confused.

You left to go rummaging through the cabinets with unstable hands. You’d grabbed as much as you could hold. Never had you been prepared to clean up so much blood. There was no thought as shaky hands grabbed at glass cleaner and air freshener. When you’d come back, Hajime was staring at the body in disbelief.

“Is this the first time?” You’d asked.

He’d come clean about everything. Words spilled like water from a broken dam. He was an executive in a high-profile gang. Bonten. You’d heard of it, but only on the news. They’d been less of a gang and more of a terrorist organization. Selling drugs, dealing weapons, killing people and so much more. Hajime didn’t seem like the type, but he said it wasn’t his first time killing. He clarified that it’s not a hobby of his like it is for other people he knew. Tears filled his eyes as he told you, but they didn’t fall in that moment. He was pulling himself together as best he could. He’d never intended for you to find out. Hajime just wanted to keep you safe and take care of you. He promised.

You listened silently while scrubbing the walls as he said something about not wanting you to leave. How he couldn’t stand to lose someone else to a life like this. He’s sorry, but this is all he’s known since he was a kid. He doesn’t know how to get by in any other way. You have to believe him. He loves you. He can’t stand the idea of you leaving him.

His propositioning became a blur when he began to break down. You stopped hearing him when the tears started to fall and the look in his eyes changed from sorrow and guilt to something unhinged. His hands came up to pull at the roots of his hair and you’re sure he was screaming apologies and begging you not to leave. His mouth moved like he was begging you to say something, but all you could was scrub the wall and look at him. You don’t remember the time cleaning after that.

For the first time, you feared him and felt alone all over again. He’d become another stranger. Your heart was sitting in your lap and you were watching it beat as you figured out what to do.

While he showered, you packed a bag for when you’d make a run for it in the dark hours of the morning. You took some jewelry to pawn, comfortable clothes to make the trip in, and some of the fancy hygiene products he bought you. Then you hid the bag in one of the spare rooms, before climbing into bed to wait for him. With the state he was in, surely, he’d hurt you if he knew you were going to leave.

His kisses felt like sandpaper against your cheeks. Every time his lips touched your skin was a silent question of whether you still loved him. You did, but you couldn’t stay. Not like this. When he fell asleep, you took some cash and ran as far as you could. It wasn’t very far at all. An okay hotel near the train station about an hour away.

Twice now you’ve thought about calling the police and having him locked away forever. Once last night and now as you step out of the shower and see an accomplice in the hotel mirror. You can’t bring yourself to do it. Your head aches at the thought of him behind bars, in a small room, taking communal showers. You don’t want that for him. What you want is the normalcy back. You want him holding you. You want him telling you that you had a nightmare. You want this nasty breakup over with.

Your eyes become faucets of emotion again as you mourn. You cry and heave naked over the sink. For the first time in a long time, you’re alone in this life. Hajime cannot come to comfort you when you cry. You are at your lowest.

It comes up faster than you expect. Your stomach. Milky vomit splatters into the sink. You run the water over it as your body tremors. The sound calms you.

Your hand dips into the stream and comes up to your mouth. You gargle and spit twice. Then you splash water over your face. You’re fine.

There’s no time for this. You need to leave.

Pulling on your clothes has you thinking about other things or at least trying to distract yourself.

“What’s worse, living with a murderer or my mom?” You halfheartedly laugh to yourself. It’s too much to think about right now.

You haven’t worn a sweatsuit in quite some time. Koko hated what he called “lazy clothes” and insisted you are too beautiful to wear them. Of course, you still had some, but you could never do more than look at them. Not until now. You’re sure your mother would be just as disapproving for similar reasons.

You laugh again at the thought of neither of them liking this outfit. A soft yellow sweat suit and white sneakers. It’d break both of their hearts.

A soft knock at your door interrupts your thoughts, and you stiffen.

“Room service.” Says a gruff, masculine voice on the other side.

Just room service. You unclench.

“No, thank you!” You shout as you grab your bag and ready yourself to leave.

“It’s important.” The voice sings back. “You left something at the front desk. I need to return it to you.”

Oh?

You crack the door open just enough for your foot to fit through. The man is tall and angular. Dress shirt. Tie. Black slacks. Loafers. Expensive Prada Loafers. He reeks of cigarette smell. Acrid and off-putting. Nothing in his hands but the rings that adorn his scarred fingers. Your eyes travel up to his face.

Slicked back black hair. Prominent streaks of grey in thick stripes. Massive scar across his eye. He doesn’t work here. Your heart jumps to a start.

You scramble to close the door, but he’s strong enough to just push his way in and have you falling on your ass in the process. The door swings shut, the lock clicks, and a gun is pointed at you. His finger comes to his lips to hush you before you can think of screaming.

“It’s early. I’m tired. And I don’t want to be here.” He reaches his free hand out to help you up off the floor. You stare frozen in fear, labored breathing, unable to think until you notice his gesture and offer a hand so he can pull you up. “Can you just come with me so I can drop you off to Koko and go about my day?”

Your saliva becomes glue holding your mouth shut. You can do nothing but stare into his eyes.

“Hello?” He waves his gun in your face and you flinch away.

You offer a slow, cautious shake of your head. Your feet carry you a couple of steps back. He follows.

“You have to.” He asserts, shoving the gun’s muzzle under your chin.

For some reason, you're embarrassed by your trembling. You try to stop it, but can’t. Your eyes are blown wide and your hands shake as you grab the man’s wrist to pull the gun from under your chin.

“I can’t.” You barely manage. Tears fill your eyes as you back away again. The man doesn’t move with you. He looks more confused and irritated than anything. He’s nothing but furrowed brows and hard eyes.

“Listen…” He groans as he watches you wipe away tears as they fall. “I don’t know what the hell this is about, nor do I care, but my boss told me to get you and bring you to Koko,” He steps closer and shoves the gun into his waistband. “I’m not a fan of brutalizing attractive young women, but I will if I have to. Then I’ll carry you out of here and take you to him.”

You understand you’re leaving with him either way.

✮✮✮

He’s enough of a gentleman to have grabbed all of your stuff for you and thrown it into his backseat, but not enough of a gentleman to not kidnap you. Enough of a gentleman to open the door to his SUV for you, but not enough of a gentleman to not point a gun at you.

When his car starts, the feeling of dread sinks in. This is happening. This is not a dream. Your ex is a man powerful enough to have you kidnapped. 

You try to suck it up and stop your tears, but you keep sniffling. Hajime is a sick bastard to send a man with a gun after you. How could he?

“What’s your name?” The man's voice interrupts your thoughts. You say nothing. “Fair.” He brushes you off. “I understand it. I’m human too.” 

Hard to believe.

“My name is Takeomi.” He looks away from the road to shoot a halfhearted grin. “I’ll have to learn your name later, right?”

“Please let me go.” You demand through sniffles. You try to toughen your act as the tears dry up. Still, you feel pathetic.

He ignores you.

“I thought he was gay.” He doesn’t turn to look at you this time. “You know, I thought I’d be picking up a man.”

Oh?

“…but you’re incredibly beautiful so, I understand if he suddenly changed his mind.”

What?

He doesn’t say much after that, and just drives. You stare out of the window and hold back tears.

By the time you arrive, you’ve calmed down. You linger in the car as Takeomi grabs your things and calls Hajime, but the moment he opens the door it’s a march of death. 

Takeomi waits with you at the elevator. He can’t stand this, you can tell. Even without moving, his stance is impatient. You can hear the hum of the elevator moving. The closer it sounds the more your heart races.

DING!

No. No.

You take a step back as the elevator doors open. You look at Takeomi who looks back at you and shrugs.

No.

You’re half ready to run when a hand guides you into the elevator. You keep your head down. Hajime mutters out a thank you and you see them exchanging your luggage. They don’t say goodbye.

The penthouse is the same. Same sweet smell. Same shiny wooden floors. Same warmth. But it’s not your home anymore. It’s your new gilded cage. 

Hajime drops your bag and suddenly you’re surrounded by a familiar warmth and scent. He’s everything you can sense. His floral conditioner. His musky cologne. His well-trimmed nails against your scalp.

“Hajime…”

He pulls away. There’s a darkness in his eyes when you finally look at him. His hair is a mess. He hasn’t brushed it like he usually would. His makeup isn’t done. He is still in his pajamas. It’s been less than a day and already he’s in disarray.

“Why did you abandon me when all I do is take care of you?” He stresses. “I do everything to keep you safe and beautiful and you run after one mistake?”

“Mistake?” Your voice shakes. “Killing someone is a mistake?”

“I was doing my job.”

“Fuck you.” An immediate slap to your cheek blurs your vision. 

First, it’s shock, then it’s anger, then it’s tears. Koko doesn’t seem remorseful though. With furrowed brows, he says, “I love you and you abandoned me. I took care of you when that bitch of a mother threw you out and you crawled into Tokyo from the shithole you came from. But fuck me?”

Crazy. He’s actually crazy.

You slap him back and the look on his face changes from seething anger to hurt. Before he can react, you dart from the doorway all the way to the bedroom unsure of if he’s chasing you. Immediately you lock it. Finally, you can breathe, but the air is full of him.

[ihavemanyhusbands]

hi its me again, the will brainrot is still strong. i want to protect will so bad, so could you write something hurt/comforty for will. lets say the scenario is that hannibal is incarcerated, everyone knows he is the chesapek ripper and he will never leave prison again. reader helps will move on, will gets a happy end, a hopefull end.

the lay on the bed, will is comfortable, happy, still a bit scared of the future, of his mind but he now has a rock

sorry if that is to weird

Howdy!! Not weird at all don’t worry! I love hurt/comfort so i’ll gladly write this for you!!

——

There were nights were Will was more quiet than others. A month had passed since the shock of Hannibal’s incarceration first hit, and the road to recovery had so far been rocky.

Not that you minded taking on the responsibility of mending his broken heart. Patience and love were needed for such a task, and luckily, you had both in abundance to share.

You brought him some tea to bed, snuggling in close to him. He gave you the barest smile of gratefulness, blowing on the hot water to cool it down.

You ran your fingers soothingly through his hair, setting down your own cup. “How are you feeling?”

“Just thinking,” he said with a sigh, tapping his temple. “You know I spend a lot of time stuck up here.”

You nodded in understanding, not wanting to press him to share his thoughts. Some days he did it out of his own volition, but if he didn’t elaborate, it meant he didn’t really want to.

So instead, you decided to change the subject to try and distract him.

“You know, it’s supposed to be really nice out tomorrow. Maybe we could go for a hike and picnic by the stream,” you said. “I got more film for my camera, too.”

He smiled as he took a tentative sip of tea. “You’re still chasing that cardinal, aren’t you?”

“Little fucker is hard to picture,” you said with an amused huff. “But I think I know where its nest is, so I’m bound to get it eventually.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, setting down his cup on the nightstand and wrapping his arms around your waist. He lay his head down on your lap, and your fingers buried in his hair once again.

“And when you do catch him? Then what?” He asked softly, though a part of you felt like he was asking himself the question, too.

“Then… I don’t know. It’s hard to say.” You thought about it for a moment. “I guess at first it would be weird not to feel that drive anymore. Maybe I would miss it for a time, but who knows? Maybe I’d see it again and I’d just be content that it happened.”

Will was quiet as he processed your words. You wished you could give him a better answer, but you hadn’t experienced all he had.

“And if it’s gone forever?”

“Then… I’ll have my memories to look back on. As for the rest, I can’t foretell what the future might bring.”

“That’s true,” he said. “It brought me you, and I never could have predicted it.”

You bent down to clumsily kiss the top of his head. He laced his fingers through yours, bringing it to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

“Whatever it is that happens after, we’ll be together,” you promised. “I can tell you that much.”

“I know,” he said, and the relief he felt was immeasurable.

———

[grippingbeskar]

unearthed

chapter four - fitted

warnings— canon typical violence, swearing, a slow slow build up and it’s painful i hate it here.

a/n— thanks for all the support guys!!! i’m trying to get these up as quick as i can, because i feel like this will read better if it’s all done together but that’s okay!!! we will get there! also i didn’t realise how short this chapter was i’m sorry next one coming super fast i promise xx.

[series masterlist] [next chapter] [sign up to the taglist!]

“Can you just run me through it one more time?” You ask, eyes unsure of where to land. The man in front of you bites back a sigh, and you remind yourself to actually pay attention this time.

“All you have to do is walk up the stairs. You’ll kneel in front of the Armourer, and the King will stand at your side. She’ll say the phrases, and you repeat them.” You swallow, already having forgotten what you were supposed to say. “This is before you meet the King and say your offical vows.”

“Right. And that… that was happening in the…” He isn’t able to hold back his sigh this time, though he keeps himself in check The people here seem to respect you— or tolerate you enough that they’ve become accustomed to your presence.

“The greenhouse. It’s our most secluded area. It will be safe for him then, to reveal himself to you and intertwine the two halves of a whole that is your union.” You choke, spluttering the bottle of water you were sipping on.

“I’m— I’m sorry, what?”

“Well, you are in love. In Mandalorian custom, this is what is etched in the Old Way. You are to become part of his clan, in a more intimate way than anyone ever will.” Love. Stars fucking help you.

“And he agreed to… that?”

“It is expected.” The man finishes, and your mind freezes up like you’ve down a glass of blue milk too quick. “Are you alright, my lady?”

“Yeah! Yep. Super… that’s all— so great! Very much in love. I actually have to— go. I have to go and do something. I’ll be back—“ You were basically running now, despite the man’s protests, the door shutting behind you when you were already halfway down the hall.

It was too much.

Tomorrow, you’d be marrying him— joining a way of life you knew frighteningly little about, and now you were just supposed to… to see him? With anyone else, it would of been the first thing you’d done, but with him it feels like a way bigger deal. You know it is. You can’t help but feel like an imposter… like you’re stealing something from him he clearly does not want to give. Something that should belong to someone he truely cared about… not part of some contract.

The way he talked about it that day in the city, as brief as the conversation was, you could tell he cared. You hardly knew him, but you could read him better now. He actually wasn’t that hard to understand once you’d watched him for a little— his body language betrayed him too often. You imagined under that helmet he made all kinds of faces, unable to hide the emotion that you almost knew flashed across it.

It was hard not to think of what was under there. Often. Too often to be simple curiosity.

When you finally see the door to your room, you were about ready to pass out, but a giant shiny metal blockade slammed into you just as you rounded the corner.

“Fucking hell!” You shout, your palm flying to your now throbbing head. “I swear I’m gonna get you a bell or something. Stars.”

He laughs quickly, the sound soothing the ache in your head, but it’s gone too soon. When you come to, your eyes opening, it’s a sight for sore eyes. The gentle stream of moonlight coming from the hallway bathes the silver armour in a soft white, the beskar lined floors twinkling like stars.

“I was looking for you. You need to come with me— the Armourer wants to see you.” You try not to groan, your eyes closing again. “She needs to choose your armour. For tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. Your wedding day. And induction into the way of the Mandalorian. Of course. That.

“Right— okay, I can… let’s go. Lead the way.” You sigh, going to take a step. He surprises you when he reaches out, gentle hands wrapping around your wrists.

The gesture stops you in your tracks, breath catching in your lungs. He scans you, helmet moving slowly across your features while his hands bring your own away from your face. The exhaustion you were just feeling seems to seep out of you the longer his attention is undivided on your eyes, adrenaline rushing to your heart.

He was so overwhelming. He took up every tiny space in your vision and your mind when he was looking at you. It was impossible to think straight around him. You were too busy thinking of… of the way his hands were tight but gentle, something you could easily get out of if you wanted to. You also think about how you… don’t want to get out of his hold. Not anytime soon.

“How long has it been since you slept?” He asks, his voice as gentle as his hands holding you in place.

“Do I look that bad?” You try to joke, and his head just tilts. It’s not one of his ‘okay, you got me there’ head tilts either. No, this one is more… calculating. Systematic. Not very fun. “I don’t know— I just got up early this morning. We’re getting married tomorrow, and apparently there’s a lot more planning involved than I thought.”

“You don’t sleep well here.” He was still holding you. You flexed your fingers, knuckles brushing lightly against the cool chest plate of his hard armour. “These past few weeks, you haven’t slept.”

“I have! I just…” Your shoulders sag, but you manage to keep looking into the black lines of his helmet. It was weird to think his eyes were right under there. “I don’t sleep well anywhere. It’s not just Mandalore. Scouts Honour.”

“I don’t know what that is.” You laugh, and somehow a small conversation with him wakes you up enough to snark back.

“Yeah. Hard to imagine you as a Boy Scout.” He says nothing about how he knows you haven’t slept, but instead holds you there for just a second longer. In the silence, you try to imagine what he’s thinking.

If he wasn’t buried under a helmet, you would think this was a move. A way to pull you closer, hands at his chest, so he could easily lean down to kiss you. But him being…him, he must just really be examining you. Studying you.

Your palms were sweating a little, and he finally lets you go, air whooshing back into your body when he steps away.

“We’ll be quick.” He says simply, leading you towards the end of the hall. You shuffle behind him, your fingers wrapping around the small part of your wrist where his gloves held you. The skin tingles, and you shove your hands in your pockets after that, refusing to look at them.

Din watched you. He found himself doing that a lot these days. You stick to the edge of the room, not nervous or intimidated, but it’s like you were trying to respect the space.

The Armorer had managed to get the Forge looking in some what good condition— at the very least, she was back to what she did best. Making armour that would protect the next generation of Mandalore.

“Din Djarin. You have what I requested?” She speaks, and you watch curiously, taking a step forward as he hands over a stack of beskar ingots. The choice was clear— if you were going to stand with him, you’d be in nothing but the best of what he had to offer.

When the Armourer calls your name, you step forward, your eyes flitting between the giant metal sphere of the Forge and the stack of beskar Din just handed over.

“You are to take the helm. To join Din Djarin as a part of his clan. Do you accept the offer presented?” She asks, her voice the same monotone it always it. When he looks back to you, you weren’t focused on any of the parts of the room. No, you were staring straight at him.

“Din Djarin.” You try the words out in your tongue. He never told you his name. Something sinks in his gut at that, and the fact that you never asked. “I’ve never heard a name like that before.”

“Do you accept?” The Armorer repeats, and you finally look away. He can’t help but feel confused— the way his gut twists and his hands clench even at the memory of the way you say his name. He wants to hear you more— wants to ask you questions like you do to him so freely. Instead, he stays quiet.

“Yeah— yes. I accept.” You say the last part as a question, looking to him. When he nods, you repeat it more firm. The confidence clings to you well. It suits you.

As the Armourer works, he remembers what his people were saying about you in the city. How you were fitting to the planet so well, it’s like you were born here. You had a way to never seem out of place— not like he was when he first came. Everything that took him so long to figure out, you navigated with ease.

They were right. It did suit you— the planet, the beskar… everything.

They were right about something else, too. The part Din conveniently left out when you asked him what he’d heard through the helmets’ receiver. Those women in the city… they couldn’t stop speaking of how beautiful you were.

Din swallowed. Of course he’d… noticed. It was impossible not to. You were a princess— now a Queen, always dressed in glowing colours, your hair flowing freely, a wild look about you like you’d just as easily spend your days navigating Hoth as you did sorting paperwork.

When he’d first seen you, his mouth had gone dry. He thought it was because he knew what was to come— the inevitable marriage, the closeness that would ensue. But looking at you now, being fitting into pauldrons of armour, he realised it may not be the dresses or the winning royal decor— it might just be because those women were right. You were beautiful.

“This is the Way.” The Armourer recites, and takes back the pieces of beskar to place them in the Forge. “The suit will be ready for tomorrow.”

Din nods, his chest tight at the reality. Tomorrow, you would be his wife. He’d bring you into his clan, a part of his planet, potentially tying himself to you for the rest of his life.

He turned and left the room without another word.

You were pacing. The small balcony attached to your room didn’t allow you a lot of room to move, but you needed to get this nervous energy out.

You’d already holo’ed Kaylen, four times in the past hour, and as many times as she’d offered the best advice she could, there was only so much she could do. No matter how many well placed words she chimed down the line, you were still getting married tomorrow.

It was stupid. You’d pictured this day— all kinds of ways, really. A practical part of you had imagined something like this. Alone, a man you couldn’t put a face to, just as reluctant as you are standing at the end of the isle. You knew it was coming, but a part of you was still holding onto that stupidly fragile sliver of hope that you’d marry someone you…loved.

It wasn’t that you were upset about who you were marrying, though. Just the circumstances. In fact, the past few weeks have made you think that in another world, where you were given the time, you could even see yourself growing to like… Din.

Din. That was his name. Another part of the mystery unfurled. When the Armorer had called it out, a thrill rushed through you, and you’d felt like you’d been let in on some giant secret. You weren’t going to ask— not that you didn’t want to know, but it was more about the conversation you had with him on that first day. To give his heart was to give his trust. He was already giving up so much of himself when he clearly didn’t want to. His name was his, and it would come when he was ready. Or, apparently, when the Armourer was ready.

Just as you were going to crawl back inside and attempt to get some sleep, a familiar voice called you out. When your head shot around, you couldn’t see him straight away, and you could not believe he’d snuck up on you again. But where the hell was he—

He called your name again, and you looked up and to the right.

“What the fuck?” Your eyes widened, seeing him lean over a much larger balcony, helmet tilted to the side. “How long have you been up there?”

“I live here.” You sigh loudly.

“Right...”

“You still aren’t sleeping.” He says, something in his voice making you feel the same way as when he was holding your wrists in the corridor.

That’s how he knew.

“You’ve been watching me?”

“I could hear you pacing.” The helmet tilts to the other side, every one of his movements slow and calm.

“Sorry.” You look outwards, the dark midnight of the planet obscuring the entire city. It was almost impossible to see any of the swirling stars and expanding buildings from here. The only person you could see was Din.

“Don't apologise. I was already awake.” You laugh tiredly at that, looking back up to him. “Are you still…okay, going through with this?”

“Scared I’m going to leave you at the altar?” The quiet response you don’t receive makes you feel a little guilty. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there.”

He shifts on his feet. Even this far away you can read his body language. How his hands clench at his sides, his legs stand straight and boots turned inwards, like he's preparing for a hit that won't come. It nearly makes you smile. Another little bit of mystery unfolded for your eyes only.

“I was meaning to tell you. I heard back from my friend in the Outer Rim. She may be able to tell you about some of the serial codes if you can identify the droids. We would have go to her, though. She doesn’t travel much. And she's paranoid about working with me over comms.” You squeeze your eyes shut for a second, and you feel entirely selfish.

Of course. Your parents. The droids that your father was interested in. You’d been swept up in it— in him. He was taking every slice of your attention, occupying every inch of your mind, there’d been moments where you’d forgotten your purpose here.

“Of course! When can we go?!” You are suddenly wide awake, leaning over the railing and stretching to look up at him.

“We could tomorrow, after the… ceremony. We have time before things are settled. We could see if there’s a lead. When you return to your home, you follow it and report back. Once we have numbers, I’ll talk to Bo-Katan.” Stars— real hope was building in your chest, and it was all thanks to him.

“Thankyou, Din. You don’t… you don’t know how much that means to me.” You’d been searching what felt like your entire short reign for something… anything that could lead you to your parents murderers. The New Republic scrapped anything related to the Empire, and anyone that knew anything was definitely not going to speak to a new ruler of a powerful planet. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“If you do what you said you would— help my people recover what we have lost, there’s no debt.” With the short words, he turns around, and you lose sight of the face of the helmet you’d started to actually like. “Try to sleep.”

“Yeah…” You fade off as he disappears, something in your heart telling you to call after him.

You don’t know why. There’s nothing left to say. He’s doing exactly what he said, and there’s no reason to continue this very professional conversation—

“One more thing.” He calls, and you nearly trip yourself with how fast you turn back around. “It would be good if we keep this trip between us. People can get… uncomfortable, with Empire technology. We don’t want to spook anyone with information off.”

“Sounds like a plan, Din Djarin.” He keeps staring down at you, helmet masked in the dim light of the planets moons.

“You keep saying my name.” He says it, but it doesn't sound like he's angry. Almost like he just wants to know why.

“I’m planning to wear it out, considering how much you wanted to keep it from me.” Even from a level up, you can hear him breathe out— and then he laughs. Just once, and the sound makes you stand up on your toes, like you’re leaning towards it.

“Goodnight.” He says, then disappears, the lock of his door sounding obnoxiously loud.

You wanted to ask him more questions. Listen to his voice— the low, vibrating tone of it soothing your screaming thoughts. He was right, of course. You knew first hand how quickly people shut down when being questioned on old tech. Only, people knew your face, and would dismiss your questions.

But now you had something; someone new on your side. And not a single person in the galaxy knew he was coming but you.

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[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Stream-Mas - E.Munson

Summary - Eddie gets his stream crashed once again but this time comes a different surprise to his viewers. Kinda a part 2 to Stream Crasher but can be read as a stand-alone.

Word Count - 834

Warnings - Use of Y/N, female reader, mentions of food, mentions of stretch marks

Author’s Note - Welcome to day 13 of 25! We’re getting there, slowly but surely. I have been busy writing so hopefully everything will be written in advance but we’ll see. I hope you enjoy!

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Feedback is welcomed and encouraged

Enjoy!

not my gif

not my gif

It had been a good amount of time since Eddie had streamed with his wife crashing. However, he had decided that for the month of December, he’d stream everyday until Christmas Eve. So because of this, he was more likely to get his stream crashed once again. He had been almost all the way through, day 23 to be exact without a crash. As he was streaming a replay of Hogwarts Legacy, he heard his wife’s usual gentle knock before the door slowly swung open, the hinges creaking gently.

“Sorry to interrupt honey, I’m just bringing you some food before I go lay down,” She apologized as she approached her husband who was sporting his usual t-shirt and sweats combo, his large headphones draped over his ears.

“Don’t apologize baby. Why are you going to lay down? You feel okay?” He asked his wife, gently taking the plate from her hands. It was some cut fruit and a steaming hot omelette. 

“Just tired, this pregnancy is kicking my ass.” Eddie took off his headphones and made his way to his pregnant and tired wife.

“You didn’t have to make me anything, baby. You go rest with the little one. I’m gonna wrap up my stream so I can spend some time with you.” Before she could protest, Eddie planted a kiss to her lips before giving her a stern look. She nodded at him, kissing his cheek before heading off to their bedroom. As he sat back down and put his headphones back on, he looked at his chat.

It had completely blown up with comments about the interaction he had just had with his wife. Everyone was surprised that they were expecting a baby. As he began to read the questions, he started to eat the food his wife had made him. “I see you guys have a lot of questions so I’ll answer some before ending the stream. As for how far along she is, she’s 7 months in so not long now. We are very excited to meet our little girl and spoil her rotten. So when the baby is born, I will very likely take a bit of a break from streaming until we get a feel for being parents and getting a routine down. We do have a name but we decided not to share her identity on the internet, I’ll probably refer to her as the baby or my little girl or princess but I’m gonna try to avoid using her name,” Eddie rambled to his stream, reading over the comments of constant ‘congratulations’ coming through, some questions thrown in but the comments were flying by too quick to really read them.

“So I’m cutting the stream shorter than usual but I will be back tomorrow for the last day. Thank you all for the well wishes and congratulations, I love you guys. See you tomorrow.” Eddie ended the stream, shutting down his equipment and lights, going to the kitchen to clean up whatever was including his dirty plate before heading to his wife who was asleep on the bed with the TV playing Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince. He walked in quietly, shutting off the lamp on her bedside table, leaving the TV on as he climbed into the bed. 

“How long was I asleep?” Y/N asked, her voice muddled with sleep.

“Not long baby, go back to sleep. You’re tired, you and princess need the rest,” Eddie assured her.

“Cuddle with me, I missed you.” Eddie wasn’t complaining, quickly respecting his wife’s wishes and pulling her body as close to his as possible. Her head falling onto his chest, her arm plopped over her abdomen without care. His arms were wrapped around her, one arm around her back and the other over her arm with that hand gently tracing up and down her arm, his other hand resting on the side of her belly where he felt the baby’s little feet pushing on.

“She’s gonna be an mma fighter. She’s always kicking the crap outta you,” Eddie joked as his hand aimlessly traced over her belly and the stretch marks that littered her skin.

“You’re telling me. She kicked my ribs this morning, damn near knocked the wind outta me.” The two shared a sleepy laugh before the room fell into a comfortable silence.

“I love you,” Eddie broke the silence after a couple minutes.

“Love you more, Eds.”

If you had told Eddie from his freshman year that this is where he’d be years in the future, he wouldn’t believe you. His dreams had absolutely come true, he had his dream girl, a career he never expected on top of the one he had planned and a baby on the way. He had slept more soundly than usual, his wife in his arms, feeling his baby kick his hand from where it was resting and the sounds of his wife’s favorite movie from her favorite franchise. He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[oh-austin]

selena!reader / famous!reader

I’m trying fall in love with writing again so here’s a cheeky ig edit for you all- golden globes edition!!

yourinstagram sitting in my GOLDEN GLOBE NOMINATED BOYFRIENDS jacket xo

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ynfan3 she’s whipped, his biggest supporter for real

ynfan7 are you going to the golden globes tomorrow yn???????

austinfan8 I haven’t seen anything confirming her attendance 😭 we can only hope she will go with austin

austinbutler and looking gorgeous

florencepugh get a room, that’s my girl

vogue get ready with y/n l/n for the golden globes is up and ready to watch before you tune in to the show tonight!

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ynfan10 SHES GOING OMF

austinfan13 no austin in the video, it’s a sad day for candid moments of them

yourinstagram ❤️❤️❤️

ynupdates Y/N AT THE GOLDEN GLOBES TONIGHT LOOKING GORGEOUS!!!

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ynfan14 I’ve died and this is heaven, happy to be here

austinfan17 I’m going to write austin and ask to sage his girlfriend

zendaya respectfully…. I’m LOOKIN 👀

ynfan21 zendaya is us, I am zendaya

austinupdates HE’S A GOLDEN GLOBE WINNER!!! Below is Austin’s speech for you all to read 🥺

“[…] And to my lovely beautiful girlfriend, thank you for standing by my side through everything, especially throughout the production of this amazing film. Y/N, you let me dedicate my heart and soul to this film and I am so grateful to you for that, and I promise to dedicate my heart and soul to you forever mamas. I love you so much. […]”

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austinfan24 THEN MARRY HER ALREADY? THIS MAN

ynfan27 I was ugly crying on my sofa, my brother looked concerned

ynfan29 I feel this, my mum walked into my room while I was watching the stream crying and laughed at me

austinfan31 THE WAY THAT SHE HELD HER HAND OVER HER HEART AS HE SPOKE TO HER, I SERIOUSLY WANT TO CRY

ynfan34 if they ever break up idk what I’ll do

yourinstagram my golden globe winner 🏆 I’m so proud of you my austin, thank you for everything. I cant wait to watch you take over the world with your indescribable talent, you constantly amaze me. I have no doubt you will continue to do so, I love you AB.

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austinbutler I love you. So so much.

[anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek]

A Streamer Companion (BBC Mycroft Holmes x Gender Neutral!Streamer Reader)

I've started writing again. Don't ask how I came up with this content; honestly, I have no idea where this plot for a oneshot came from. But here it is—enjoy!

Part 1 Part 2

Masterlist

(work count: 2142)

Mycroft Holmes returned home late, the weight of the day's demands evident in his weary steps. He loosened his tie as he made his way through the dimly lit halls of their home, the echo of his polished shoes on the hardwood floor the only sound in the quiet night. His thoughts were already drifting towards the solace of his bed and the comforting presence of his spouse.

When he entered their bedroom, he was surprised to find it empty. The covers were neatly turned down, and the room was silent save for the distant hum of electronics. He knew exactly where his partner was. With a soft sigh, Mycroft made his way to their gaming room.

He pushed open the door to find Y/n seated in front of their setup, their face illuminated by the colorful lights of their monitors. They were engrossed in their stream, chatting animatedly with their followers as they played. Mycroft had grown accustomed to their passion for streaming, understanding it was an integral part of their life, even if the hours sometimes stretched late into the night.

He stepped into the room, unaware that they were still live. His broad chest, clad in his tailored suit, appeared in the camera's view, though his face remained just out of frame. The chat exploded with comments as soon as the viewers caught sight of him.

"Who's that?"

"OMG, hot person alert!"

Y/n glanced over their shoulder, realizing with a start that Mycroft had entered the frame. They gave him a quick smile, which he returned with a raised eyebrow, silently asking them to wrap things up.

"Love, it's quite late," he said, his voice low and rich, carrying a note of gentle reprimand. "Perhaps it's time to finish your stream and get some rest."

The chat went wild, the comments flooding in even faster.

"That voice!! 😍"

"Marry me, mystery person!"

"Is he your partner??"

"Guys, calm down," Y/n said with a laugh, trying to maintain their composure. "I guess that’s my cue to end the stream for tonight. Thanks so much for watching, everyone. I’ll see you all tomorrow."

They began to sign off, their viewers expressing their reluctant goodbyes mixed with curiosity about the unknown person. As they ended the stream, they turned to Mycroft, who was patiently waiting by the door.

"Sorry about that," they said, standing and stretching. "I lost track of time."

He stepped forward, wrapping an arm around their waist and pulling them close. "I understand," he replied, pressing a kiss to their forehead. "But you do need your rest."

They smiled up at him, their eyes sparkling with affection. "I know. Let's go to bed."

They made their way back to their bedroom, the house now completely silent. As they settled into bed, Mycroft turned to them, his expression softening in the gentle glow of the bedside lamp.

"How was your day?" he asked, his hand reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from their face.

"It was good," they replied, snuggling closer to him. "I had a great stream, and I made some progress in the game I was playing. The fans were really engaged tonight."

He nodded, his thumb tracing soothing circles on their back. "That's wonderful. I'm glad to hear it."

"And you?" they asked, looking up at him. "How was your day?"

He sighed, the weight of his responsibilities momentarily lifting as he shared the details of his day with them. "It was long and challenging, but we made some significant strides on a few important matters. I’m just glad to be home now."

They listened attentively, their presence a balm to his tired soul. They continued their nightly ritual, sharing the highs and lows of their respective days, finding comfort in each other’s company.

Eventually, the conversation dwindled, and they lay in contented silence, the rhythm of their breathing synchronizing. Mycroft pressed a final kiss to their forehead, his arms holding them securely as they drifted off to sleep.

In the quiet of the night, with his spouse nestled close, Mycroft found a rare and precious tranquility, a reminder that even amidst the weight of his world, there were moments of pure, unadulterated joy and love.

The following afternoon, Y/n was lounging on the couch, casually scrolling through TikTok when they stumbled upon an edit from last night’s stream. The video had already gained an impressive number of views and comments, showing the moment Mycroft had entered their gaming room. The editor had added dramatic music and heart emojis, focusing on Mycroft’s suit-clad chest and his smooth, commanding voice.

"Who's that mystery person?" the overlay text read, followed by a flood of comments from viewers simping over Mycroft.

Y/n couldn't help but laugh, their cheeks flushing as they watched the edit. Mycroft truly was hot, and seeing the fan reactions only made them blush more.

As the afternoon gave way to evening, Y/n prepared for their next stream. They couldn’t help but wonder how their fans and co-streamers would react tonight. They set up their equipment, mentally preparing for the inevitable onslaught of questions.

Once they were live, the chat immediately exploded with comments about Mycroft.

"Tell us about the mystery person!"

"Is that person your partner?"

"Marry me, mystery person!"

Their co-streamers were no different, jumping right into the teasing. "So, who was that last night? Your bodyguard or something?" one joked.

Y/n laughed, trying to deflect. "Oh, just someone very special to me," they said with a smile. "Let's focus on the game, okay?"

But the curiosity and teasing didn’t stop. The stream went on, with occasional questions about Mycroft popping up, making Y/n blush and laugh.

About halfway through their stream, Mycroft arrived home. He entered their gaming room, looking as composed as ever. The chat erupted once again as his suited figure came into view, his voice as commanding as the night before.

"Y/n, are you almost done? We have reservations for dinner," he said, his eyes softening as they met theirs.

The chat went wild, and their co-streamers didn’t miss a beat. "Dinner date? Fancy! Who's the lucky person?" one teased, while another added, "Is this the mystery person from last night?"

Y/n blushed deeply, trying to keep their composure. "Alright, everyone," they said, laughing. "I guess that's my cue to wrap things up. Thanks for watching, and I’ll see you all tomorrow."

As they signed off, Mycroft watched them with a raised eyebrow, curious about their flushed cheeks and the playful looks from their co-streamers. Once the stream ended, he helped them stand up, his hand resting on their waist.

"Why are you blushing so much?" he asked, genuinely curious. "What were they teasing you about?"

They giggled, shaking their head. "Oh, just some playful banter. I’ll explain everything over dinner."

Mycroft nodded, accepting their answer for now. "Alright, then. Let's get ready."

Y/n quickly changed into something suitable for their dinner date, their excitement growing. As they left the house, they couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation, knowing they had a lot to share with Mycroft about the amusing reactions of their fans.

At the restaurant, as they settled into their seats and ordered their meals, Y/n recounted the day’s events to Mycroft. He listened intently, a smile tugging at his lips as they described the TikTok edits and the fans’ reactions.

"It seems I've become quite the internet sensation," he said with a chuckle, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Y/n laughed. "Yes, you have. They’re all so curious about you. They think you’re some kind of mysterious, handsome figure."

Mycroft smirked, leaning closer. "Well, I am rather mysterious," he said playfully.

They rolled their eyes affectionately. "And handsome," they added, blushing again.

They enjoyed their dinner, the conversation flowing easily. Mycroft’s presence, his calm and composed demeanor, was a perfect counterbalance to Y/n’s lively spirit. The evening was filled with laughter and shared stories, a reminder of the unique bond they shared.

As they walked home, hand in hand, Y/n felt a deep sense of contentment. Despite the chaotic world they navigated, moments like these, filled with love and laughter, made everything worthwhile.

●～●～●～●～●

Y/n was excited for the lunch get-together with their co-streamers. After all the teasing and curiosity about Mycroft, it was time to spend some quality time with their friends outside the digital realm. They decided to meet at a trendy café in the city, known for its cozy ambiance and delicious food.

As Y/n arrived at the café, their friends were already there, waving them over. Y/n joined them at the table, exchanging hugs and pleasantries.

"Finally, some real-life interaction," one of their friends, Emma, said with a grin. "And maybe some more gossip about your mystery person."

Y/n laughed, shaking their head. "I knew you wouldn't let that go."

The lunch started with light-hearted conversations about recent games, funny stream moments, and upcoming plans. However, the topic inevitably shifted to Mycroft.

"So, Y/n," another friend, Mike, began with a teasing tone, "are you ever going to tell us about the person from your stream? The fans are still buzzing about them."

Y/n rolled their eyes playfully. "They’re just someone very special to me, that’s all."

"Special, huh?" Emma nudged Y/n. "Come on, we need details! Are they a secret agent or something? That voice... and that suit!"

Before Y/n could respond, their phone rang. It was Mycroft.

"Excuse me for a moment," Y/n said, answering the call. "Hey, love."

"My dear, I’m on my way to pick you up," Mycroft's smooth voice came through. "I should be there in about ten minutes."

"Alright, see you soon," Y/n replied, a smile on their lips.

As they hung up, their friends looked at Y/n expectantly. "Was that him?" Mike asked eagerly.

"Yes," Y/n admitted. "He's coming to pick me up."

Their friends exchanged excited glances, their curiosity reaching its peak. They continued their lunch, but it was clear that they were all anticipating Mycroft’s arrival.

Ten minutes later, a sleek, expensive car pulled up outside the café. Mycroft stepped out, his presence immediately drawing attention. His tailored suit was immaculate, exuding an air of sophistication and elegance. He walked into the café, his eyes scanning the room until they found Y/n.

Her friends’ jaws dropped. The man before them was the very embodiment of refinement and grace. It wasn’t just his appearance; it was the way he carried himself, with an air of confidence and authority.

Mycroft approached their table, his gaze softening as he looked at Y/n. "Ready to go, darling?"

Y/n stood up, smiling at him. "Yes, just a moment." They turned to their friends, who were still staring in awe. "Everyone, this is Mycroft."

Their friends were momentarily speechless, then Emma finally found her voice. "Wow, Y/n, you didn’t tell us you were married to a James Bond character!"

Y/n laughed, glancing at Mycroft who raised an eyebrow in amusement. "He's not a secret agent, just very good at his job."

Mike leaned in, still looking stunned. "Why do you even stream, Y/n? You could just be living the high life with Mr. Posh here!"

Y/n shook their head, chuckling. "Streaming is just something I do for fun. It’s a hobby, and I love interacting with you guys and the fans. Mycroft supports me because he knows it makes me happy."

Mycroft nodded, a small smile on his lips. "Indeed. Y/n's passion for streaming is something I admire. It brings them joy, and that’s all that matters."

Their friends exchanged looks of respect and understanding, finally seeing the full picture.

Emma grinned. "Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, Mycroft. You’ve definitely made an impression."

Mycroft inclined his head politely. "The pleasure is mine. I’ve heard much about all of you."

As Y/n said their goodbyes to their friends, they felt a sense of relief and happiness. The teasing and curiosity had been fun, but they were glad to finally introduce Mycroft to their friends.

Walking back to the car with Mycroft, they looked up at him with a smile. "Thank you for coming to get me."

He smiled back, opening the car door for them. "Always, my dear. Now, shall we head home?"

As they drove away, Y/n couldn’t help but feel grateful for the balance in their life – the excitement of streaming, the love of their friends, and the unwavering support of their extraordinary husband.

[hazyskyline]

unloyal | k. taerae

desc. | one night, (y/n) receives a text which permanently alters the way he views his beloved boyfriend.

pairing | unloyal!taerae x boyfriend!reader

genre | angst, optional happy ending

word count | 612 w/o happy ending, 731 w/ happy ending

warnings | cheating, cursing

——————————————————————————

you kept looking at the text. clicking off. tapping it again. click off. tap on. repeat. it was undeniable evidence. taerae was cheating on you.

it would explain the nights where he wouldn’t come home, the nights he said he was practicing late. you would be home, lying in the bed made for two, worried sick about him. and when he finally did arrive home?

“sorry, i promise i’ll be home sooner next time!”

although you were wary of these nights, you kept believing him. you were just happy to see your loving, loyal boyfriend again.

were.

as you sat on the couch of your shared apartment, tears rolling down your face, you clicked on the text again. 10 photos. 10 photos of him and this, this.. new girl.

the door started to creak open and you turned to face it.

the door was now fully open and there he was. your “perfect, amazing” boyfriend.

“oh, i didn’t expect you to be in the living room. sorry i’m home so late, i got caught up-”

“with someone else?” you interrupted him.

taerae looked taken aback for a second before quickly walking to the couch and taking a seat next to you. “what are you talking about love?” he looked at you with the most endearing eyes and the widest smile you’ve seen.

you wanted to break down. you wanted nothing more than to hug him and say that nothing was happening. you wanted to go back to the time when you two could lay together, tangled in each other’s limbs. seeing that smile, it made you falter before regaining your composure.

you pulled up the text again. “this. this is what i’m talking about,” you handed him your phone. he scrolled through the photos, looking back up to you.

“who- who sent you these?” he questioned.

you scoffed, “does it fucking matter, taerae? because personally, all that matters right now is the fact that you cheated on me.”

he looked at you with glossy eyes, “i- i was going to tell y-”

“how long?” you asked, dead serious.

“what?”

“how long have you been dating her?” you questioned, voice flat.

“3 months..” he admitted, head facing the cushion under him.

your vision once again became blurry. 3 months. 3 goddamn months.

“so let me just clear up any confusion,” you began sarcastically, wildly upset and angry at taerae, “we’ve been together for 7 months, and you’ve been dating this girl!, for half that time?” you scoffed again, paused, taking a deep breath.

“get out.”

taerae looked up at you. “wait! please.. honey.. i was going to break up with her! i was going to break up with her tomorrow! please! please, just give me a second chance!” tears were now streaming down his face. he pulled you into a hug. “please.. i love you.”

you stood still with his arms wrapped around you. your eyes were puffy and red as you pushed him away. “get out. if you love me, you’ll leave,” you said, trying to be stern but your voice cracked mid sentence.

he stared at you, tears flowing down his face. he took a step back before walking to the door. he turned around to give you one last desperate gaze. he turned back, turning the knob, and walking out the apartment.

you sat on the couch, holding a pillow close to you. you sobbed leaving wet spots on your pillow. you sobbed thinking about the time you spent together. your first date, the way he serenaded you, his bright smile, when he would try teaching you guitar, the way you laughed together.

when he was still yours.

bonus, optional happy ending!

you woke up, eyes watery, pillow soaked with tears. right, last night happened. last night where you kicked taerae out and he left… he was right next to you. you checked your phone.

no messages about taerae.

it was all a dream? it was all a dream!

you hugged taerae tightly and he stirred awake.

“huh.. what’s this about?” taerae groggily asked as he smiled at you.

“just a bad dream tae. unrelated but.. can we promise to love each other until we die?” you suggested extremely relieved and full of joy.

though not fully understanding everything that was happening at the moment, he nodded eagerly. “of course, and i’ll be sure to uphold that promise even after we die.”

——————————————————————————

a.n. | second work! i’m experimenting with different genres, but i really hate sad endings 🤧🤧 the bonus ending is for my fellow happy ending enthusiasts :D again feel free to leave any criticism in the comments!

[hanjisick]

motion sickness. request. you and hyunjin take a trip to visit your parents, but he gets motion sickness along the way. trigger warning for lots of mentions of vomiting.

“oh baby, you don’t look so good,” you commented, glancing between hyunjin’s face and the road.

“i‘ll be okay.”

his reassurance was hesitant, “you should’ve listened to me, drawing in the car will give you motion sickness.”

“i know,” he shut his eyes and leaned against the headrest, too focused on making nausea go away to listen to your scolding.

“we have another six hours to go and then we’ll be at mom and dad’s house,” you sighed.

“i don’t want them to see me when i feel sick.”

“it’ll be alright, you can lay down once we get there.”

“but i want to talk to them,” hyunjin whined, sitting up only to be hit with a wave of nausea.

“then you shouldn’t have been drawing in the car,” you lowered your voice as you realized he was struggling even more now.

“pull over,” he heaved out, and the quick swerve of your car only made it a thousand times worse.

he couldn’t control the vomit in time to open the car door, and you could only cringe as it got all over your clean car.

“oh baby,” you whispered, seeing his skin pale.

he began to whisper out apologies.

hyunjin’s eyes were bloodshot, a single tear streaming down his face

“don’t worry, we can get a hotel for tonight and get back on the road once you feel better. i’ll clean out the car once you are laying down.”

“it’s okay, we can keep going,” he took in a sharp breath.

“are you crazy? i’m not going to keep driving while you vomit all over the place.”

he nodded in defeat as you began to search for the nearest hotel.

“it’s ten minutes away, can you handle that long?”

“i think i can.”

the stench of the throw-up began to hit. you rolled down the windows as you started up the car once again, trying to ignore how terrible it was.

“try to look at the road, i’ve heard that it helps.”

he slowly nodded, too sick to care that his pants were damp.

it was only a few minutes into the ride when he began to feel nauseous once again. he gripped the sides of his seat, trying to will himself into keeping it in until you two had arrived.

“take deep breathes, hyun.”

it worked until you pulled into the hotel. hyunjin scrambled out the door and you soon followed, watching him lean over the grass to let it out once again.

you grabbed a fist full of his long hair with one hand, softly rubbing his back with the other.

“i’ll text my parents to let them know that we’ll be there tomorrow. it’s going to work out just fine.”

“i’m sorry,” he gasped out, standing back up.

“don’t apologize, let’s go get a room,” you pulled the luggage out of the trunk, motioning for him to follow you.

once you two had gotten a room for the night, he made a beeline to the shower, stripping off his wet clothes.

“i’m gonna go clean up,” you set a comfortable change of clothes out for him on the counter, “once you get out, you’re gonna get your clothes on and get right in bed. i’ll be back in about thirty minutes because i need to buy cleaning supplies.”

you left the room, and a part of you was worried to leave hyunjin for that long. rationally, you knew that nothing would happen, and he probably felt better already. but you couldn’t help but let your anxiety get the best of you.

once you arrived back to the hotel, you found hyunjin asleep at the bottom of the bed, with all of the lights still on and the blankets still under him.

a sigh escaped your lips as you kicked off your shoes, setting down a bottle of water and motion sickness pills onto the nightstand.

“hyunjin,” you sat down beside his resting body, a pang of guilt hitting knowing that you’d have to wake him.

your hands carded through his damp hair, causing his eyes to flutter open.

“what time is it?”

“it’s only seven.”

“i’m so tired.”

“i know, but let’s get under the blanket.”

he whined, turning over onto his back before scooting up to the pillows.

you yanked the blanket that was tucked into the bed, covering your boyfriend up before joining him in the bed.

he immediately turned to wrap himself around you, and a whiff of hotel shampoo filled your nose. you planted a kiss on his cheek, watching him drift off to sleep.