#also sorry for not posting for a while I’ve been in a slump and have not been feeling too well mentally

[daboyau]

I got an idea when looking at this post by @tangledinink. I couldn’t rest until I’d jotted it down. The art possessed me like an evil spirit. warnings for body horror, vomiting, general fuckery. 💚

what probably happened directly before Leo found himself in this situation:

Leo: Fairies? No way those sparkly little assholes are real.

The fae who happened to be within earshot: and i took that personally.

Anyway, here we gooooo:

Leo opens his mouth to scream, but the sound won’t come out. He gags on the feeling of it catching inside his throat, and then again when the trapped scream begins to grow thorns. It scrapes its way up, and he claws desperately at his throat, trying to tear the feeling out, falling to his knees as he gags around the forced silence.

The threat of suffocation is enough to tear his attention, however briefly, away from the horror of what is happening to his shell. His body is changing itself on the urging of some other thing’s whims, and even though his nerves didn’t seem to get the memo that a dissolving shell (you know, the thing that most of his internal organs and, like, half of his bones need to stay inside his body?) should probably hurt a lot, he can still feel it.

He retches as the first flower falls from his lips. It hits the ground with a disgustingly wet sound, coated with bile and saliva. It shines wetly, rich orange hues standing out brightly against the black soil. The rest follow shortly after, a painful deluge of familiar colors, and he’s helpless to do anything but dig his fingers deep into the rich soil and try not to let the horrific impossibility of the situation drive him crazy. Tears flow freely, staining his cheeks before they fall to the ground below, greedily absorbed by the cursed earth of this place.

“Oh, dear,” a voice says, too close for him not to have noticed their presence. He tries to jerk back, but he can’t pull his fingers from the dirt. It hurts when he tries. A high pitched whine escapes his throat, but he’s too terrified to be embarrassed by that. The voice shushes him, soothes him, and warm fingers wrap tight around the back of his neck. They come to rest just above where the lip of his shell should be. He sobs at the way his back squirms as heat shoots down his spine and something begins to grow. The furred fingers drag like velvet against his scales as they squeeze, the sharp prick of claws threatening to break skin, and then release him just as suddenly. 

“So much sorrow and pain. And, oh, so many regrets,” the thing says as she circles him, humming a tune that makes his head pound in rhythm with his racing heart. His hands have sunk beneath the black soil, and it has begun licking greedily at his wrists as well. He can feel tendrils of something wet and cold winding themselves around his fingers, and he wants to scream again, but the bursts of bile-soaked colors decorating the ground keep him from opening his mouth. He can feel a petal still clinging to his bottom lip, and when the thing kneels before him, she reaches out to pluck it off, unbothered by the way he shrinks as far away from her touch as he can manage.

She slips it between her lips, and he catches a flash of a blackened tongue as it darts out to meet that single purple petal. Her teeth are sharp when she smiles at him. They hadn’t been sharp, when she’d first approached him in the Hidden City. Nothing about her had been.

In the dim lights of the underground world he and his brothers had only recently begun to explore, she had looked soft. He’d seen her approaching, and the first thought to flit through his head was, aw, bunny. A fluffy, rounded face. Big eyes, dark and deep as a still pond as they reflected the flickering neon of a sign in the shop window behind him. A pink nose had twitched when she’d smiled at him, sweet and kind, and asked him for his name. 

(What had he told her?)

Now, she would be unrecognizable, if not for the same strawberry patterned dress that drapes over her stretched out frame. He’d think to compare her to a hare now, but the hares he’d seen when watching Animal Planet with mikey had never looked like they would take delight in tearing his nails off one by one or plucking out his eyeballs. They had never made his vision swim or his body shake when he’d looked at them. Maybe she’s become more of a wolf.

The soil has reached his elbows. Those cool, slimy tendrils have circled his wrists like shackles. They’re squeezing tighter and tighter, and he feels his fingers throb and tingle as circulation is cut off. 

His mind flashes briefly to raph and how he used to tell them not to wear rubber bands on their wrists, convinced that their hands would fall right off if they got squeezed too tight. He wonders if the things that live beneath the dirt will steal what they’ve claimed, just like she’s stollen his shell. Another sound wants to bubble up his throat at the thought, and he lets it, because what use is a swordsman without his hands?

The hysterical giggles escape as big, iridescent bubbles. They glitter pink and blue and leave a bitter taste on his tongue. They only float a few feet into the air before they fall back to the ground, their attempt to flee the horror of this situation not getting too far at all. Soft green grass rises up from the dirt to catch them, but they do not pop. They rest, suspended on those tiny blades, for far longer than any bubble he’s ever blown before. He watches, transfixed, as his laughter is eventually swallowed by green. It begins to spread.

A hand cradles his chin, and his gaze jerks back to the thing that brought him here. She is watching him intently, eyes darting to take in every tiny change in his expression. She looks curious, in the same way that donnie does when he’s thinking about all the ways he can take something apart, and what he can do with those pieces to create something better. 

Her hand is soft where it touches him. She is gentle as she wipes a cloth across his mouth. It feels like water, soothing and cool, and he finds himself leaning into this tiny offer of comfort among the stomach churning violation of what is being done to him. His eyes flutter, and he distantly registers that the face she wears seems to swim before his eyes with each rapid blink, shifting back and forth between bunny and wolf and something other. She looks like she wants to devour him whole, no matter which face she wears.

From this close, he can see the way her eyes sparkle and dance when she smiles. He can’t help but think that maybe being swallowed whole wouldn’t be such a bad way to go, after all. 

The writhing shackles around his wrists tighten. 

She laughs, breathy and soft, and the sound is layered and beautiful like wind chimes. It conjures a hurricane inside his mind. Her cool breath gusts over his face. It smells like churned dirt and funeral flowers and pustulous rot. He doesn’t know if he wants to gag or breathe deeper. 

“Little blossom,” she croons, cupping both his cheeks, dragging their faces close. He doesn’t resist. She giggles, and she drags those soft hands and those sharp claws down his neck and over his shoulders, fingertips bumping against the disgustinghorriblewrongparasitetumor gathering of delicate buds that have sprouted up all across his back. She pinches one between the pads of her fingers, and he wants to screamcrybeghertostoppushherawaycutherdownandtearthemalloutbytheroots be good for her.

“Little blossom,” she says again, and those dark eyes catch his gaze and hold it as a heavy feeling settles against his skin, across his shoulders, around his neck, and he can’t look away no matter how desperately he tries. But he doesn’t want to try. Her smile stretches wider, wider, and for one brief flicker of a second he can see blood on her teeth as she asks, “Do you believe now?”

.

(Side note just for fun. The flowers that appear in this but aren’t actually described or named are:

Orange marigold, for grief and despair

Purple hyacinth, for sorrow and asking for forgiveness

Red cyclamen, for goodbye and resignation

Yellow zinnia, for missing a friend and remembrance

Bluebells, for gratitude and everlasting love 

[kaeya-senpai]

SILLY BOY‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

[lavenderspence]

To Lean On You | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content Warning: post prison!Spencer, mentions of addiction, prison talk (typical for the prison arc), gun use, mentions of death, suggestive themes, idiots in love, angst, so much angst.

Word Count: 8.6K

Summary: You and Spencer wasted years, truths hidden, feelings uncertain, and a fear of the unrequited. It took ten weeks, isolated, silent, and broken, for the realization to strike. There was no life, if you didn’t have each other. 

A/N: It’s finally here! Wow, writing this was a wild ride, honestly. Over a month of writing, blood, sweat, and tears poured over it (there were in fact some tears). This is also the first thing I’ve written in 3 years and I'm very happy to finally be out of my slump. It's probably the angstiest thing I've written ever, and at the same time, I feel like it's not the greatest, but deep down, I still love it, haha. Let me know if I've missed any warnings. And, enjoy and any feedback is appreciated. <3

Here are some of the songs I listened to while writing this if you want to get into the mood:

Hearts by Jessie Ware

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived by Taylor Swift

Lost Without You by Freya Ridings

In This Shirt by The Irresponssibles

79 days, 3 hours, and 27 minutes - that’s how long it’s been since he got arrested in Mexico.

70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes since you saw him being pulled out of the courtroom after he was deemed a flight risk and denied bail. 70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes have passed since you last saw him.

65 days, 7 hours, and 11 minutes, since he was transferred to Millburn Correctional Facility, and this whole nightmare, had started. 

Per Penelope’s carefully crafted schedule, every team member has made numerous trips to visit Spencer - every member except you. You’d only made one trip out, and that had been 3 days after he’d been transferred.

March 4th, 2017

It’s been 8 days since you saw him led in cuffs out of that courtroom, where Penelope had broken down in Luke’s arms, everyone too shocked to make a sound. He’d looked back, his eyes meeting yours briefly, and it had been as if you’d almost seen your reflection in the mirror, every emotion had run between you both in a matter of seconds. 

Shock, you’d almost been sure they would grant bail, and you’d be able to take him home. Almost. 

Fear, for his future and his well-being. Fear of the uncertain. 

Desperation, the desire to run to him and take him into your arms, finally, and to not let go. 

Except you’d held his gaze for as long as you could before you’d looked down and turned your head to save him from seeing you break down in tears. You’d made a hasty escape after that, not sparing any of your teammates a glance, and walked out of the courthouse, stopping by a tree outside. The urge to curl up into a ball and hide, pretending none of this had happened, was strong, and then a hand wrapped around your shoulder. You had turned around, only to see Rossi and one of his sad little smiles, the ones you rarely saw.

“It’s going to be okay,” he’d said, squeezing your shoulder. ”The kid is strong.”

You’d sniffled, trying to hide the tears in your voice. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure I am," you’d whispered in despair. 

You were better than you had been 8 days ago, calmer. Although still heartbroken, you were looking forward to seeing him, seeing with your eyes that he was okay. Garcia had seen him, 2 days ago, before you’d been sent out on a case.  

“He looks good. I mean, as good as that big genius brain of his can look in prison. His eyes were sad though, really, really sad.” She’d paused as if to assure herself it would be alright, “I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing you, sweetness.” She’d squeezed your hand, but her statement hadn’t rung true. 

Your hands were shaking, you weren’t sure what from. The anticipation you’d felt? The nerves? Or the words you had a hard time coming to terms with.

“I’m sorry, but your name isn’t on Spencer Reid’s approved visitor list,” the guard at the checkpoint had said after rechecking the list. 

“There has to be a mistake, I made an appointment,” you insisted, feeling yourself unravel. It wasn’t possible, you knew for a fact you were on that list, Emily had made sure of that.

“Look, lady. There are only 10 names on that list, and yours is not one of them. Now, you need to move, because there are people here waiting to see their loved ones.” you’d hiccuped and turned around, walking to the lockers to unlock your gun, badge, and phone. 

“I’m here to see a loved one.” You’d wanted to scream, but you knew it would have been futile. There wasn’t anything you could do at that moment. 

You walked to your car, dialing Emily’s number, “This is Prentiss.”  

For a second, only your breathing could be heard over the sound of the wind, and then a tiny sniffle. You wiped at your eyes and nose, and then spoke up, barely, “Why am I not on Spencer’s approved visitor list?” 

“What do you mean? Every member of this team is on the list. So is his lawyer and Diana, even Derek,” you could hear the surprise in her voice, yet you couldn’t keep calm any longer.

"They refused to let me see him! I made the appointment, Emily, and I came, hoping I’d finally see him hear his voice, and ask him-” Your voice broke mid-sentence, and after taking a deep breath, you continued, “Ask him if he was okay, and I was denied because out of the 10 names on that list, it seems mine’s not one of them.” You finished defeated, barely above a whisper.

All was silent for the moment, save for what you could hear was Penelope’s voice on the other end of the line, quietly asking what was going on, “Let me call Fiona and the warden, and I’ll see what happened. Meanwhile, I need you back here, because we just got a case.” Her voice wasn’t leaving anything up for discussion. Still, you couldn’t go, not until you saw him. 

“Emily-” she cut you off.

“It’s not a discussion. I’ll resolve this, but I need you here and your head in the game. Am I clear?” Her voice was stern, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed. Maybe.

“Yeah, clear. I’m on my way back.” You took a deep breath and started the car and the journey back to Quantico, but your mind stayed right there, on the bars that kept you away from the one thing you held dearest. 

As it turns out, there was nothing the warden or Fiona could do. Even Emily Prentiss, Unit Chief of the BAU, couldn't “resolve” the situation. Days, weeks, and months passed, and for 70 days you couldn’t see him, isolated out, not even knowing why.

“-to be in the courthouse in one.” You snapped out of your thoughts, only catching the end of the sentence, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. You were tired, and it had little to do with the fact that you had been up all night, going over all the evidence with the team and tracing Lindsey Vaughan’s steps to a T in an attempt to exonerate Spencer and finally bring him home. 

You were exhausted, both physically and mentally. You’d been up for more than 24 hours now, but then you hadn’t been sleeping all that well to begin with. Every single night was spent wondering how Spencer was doing, and every time you closed your eyes, you saw him in that cell in Mexico. 

His eyes were red, high out of his mind, barely coherent, dirty, and injured - a far cry from the person you were used to seeing every single day - energetic, passionate, and brilliant. After 12 years, if there was one image you wished to erase from your memory, it was this one. Not all the blood you’ve seen spilled, every victim, be it men, women, or even children, all the horrors of the job, but this. Maybe it made you a bad person, but there was nothing worse than seeing the one person you held dearest at their lowest and not being able to do anything to stop it.

Every waking hour that you weren’t on the job was spent wondering how he was doing and if he was okay. If he was healthy, unharmed, and safe, or as safe as an FBI agent could be in prison. But most of all, the one thing that had kept you up at night, slowly destroying your sanity and making you question everything, had been the one question you couldn’t seem to get an answer to. 

“Why doesn’t he want to see me?”

You’d asked everyone and had waited with battered breath for an answer, a clarification on the matter, and it never came. As shocked as you had been at the notion that you wouldn’t be seeing Spencer for an indefinite amount of time, your team had been even more shocked. They knew the kind of relationship you and Spencer had, how close you’d become over the years, and how much you relied on each other. 

You’d asked every team member, you’d asked yourself, you’d even asked Spencer in a few of the letters you wrote to him, and then there had come a point where you just stopped. 

You were torturing yourself more than enough, day after day, and every single night, asking yourself a question you wouldn’t get an answer to. Not as long as he was locked up in that hellhole and you were out here, trying to keep together the pieces of something, that was on the verge of breaking. 

You felt a hand taking hold of yours, and for a second, you tensed up. Pulled out of your thoughts, you looked up and were met with chocolate brown eyes, full of worry - Emily’s eyes. 

You glanced around the room, only to realize it was empty, save for the two of you. You hadn’t felt when the others had left, that’s how deep in thought you had been. 

“Where did you go? I’ve been calling your name for a while now,” she spoke gently, squeezing your hand. If you were honest, that’s the first time she asked you anything about the situation. You’d spent weeks suffering in silence and trying to pretend that you weren’t slowly dying on the inside. 

You briefly thought about lying, it wouldn’t be the first lie you’d told since Spencer had been incarcerated, but you didn’t have it in you to hide anymore. 

And so, for the first time since Spencer’s hearing, you told the truth.

“Nothing makes sense anymore, Em,” it left you in a whisper, “I’m barely holding it together. I feel like I’m drowning sometimes, and just when I breach the surface, I’m pulled back in. My mind, it’s...I question everything, all the time. My mornings start with thoughts about him, and my nights end with tears over him, over this entire…this nightmare. I keep waiting for my alarm to go off, to wake up and realize that this has been a plot of my imagination, some cruel joke my mind has conjured, designed to show me... "Your eyes welled with tears, prepared to admit something you should have long ago. Emily gave your hand another squeeze, prompting you to continue, and so you did, admitting it for the first time aloud. 

“Designed to show me that I can’t live a life that doesn’t have Spencer in it.” You wiped at your eyes, willing your tears at bay. When you dared to look up, you were met with the eyes of the only other person besides Spencer who has been a constant rock in your life for the last 11 years. What you saw in her eyes then wasn’t surprise like you’d thought, but relief. It took you a moment to fully read her, but it was like a switch had gone off when you finally did. 

“But you’re not surprised to hear this, are you?” you smiled sadly, a light laugh leaving you. 

“I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t have my suspicions, and I’d be an even worse profiler,” she smiled at you, “Plus, there are some feelings that you just can’t hide,” you blinked, and then you blinked again. You hadn’t come right out and said it, and yet she knew, she somehow knew. 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” you tried to backtrack, but you knew it was a losing battle. Emily knew you well enough to smell your bullshit from miles.

“That’s exactly how you meant it, and don’t even try to deny it. I see it every damn day. It’s how you leave the room whenever you hear someone talk about visiting Spencer. You don’t want to hear how he’s doing because you wouldn’t believe it, not unless you see him with your own eyes. But you can’t, so you’ve resigned yourself to the torture of not knowing instead of giving yourself the smallest amount of peace by asking. You’ve been suffering in silence for almost three months, too stubborn to say anything, thinking you were doing yourself a favor. And what for? You’re crying yourself to sleep every night and coming to work the next morning, pretending everything is fine when clearly it’s not. You think you’re fooling everyone, but the only person you’re tricking is yourself. And how’s that working out for you?” she had a point, and it’s not like you weren’t aware of that fact. You knew what you were doing wasn’t okay or healthy. You had the most stable support system imaginable to get you through the hardest parts. It was hard, though, especially when the person who was suffering the most was the person who’d taken your heart with him. 

“Way to call me out, boss.” you were just about ready to end the conversation, you couldn’t take any more of this. You’d promised each other long ago that you wouldn’t profile each other but you had a feeling that was exactly what Emily was doing right now. Maybe not on purpose, and with every good intention imaginable, but you didn’t want that. You didn’t want one of your best friends to try to understand you based on behavioral analysis right after you’d spilled your soul out to her. 

“Just calling it the way I see it, someone has to,” she smiled, but then she shook her head a little before continuing. “What I want to know is why you didn’t say something earlier. You know I would have been there to listen, and so would have the team.” Damn, Emily Prentiss.

You didn’t have to think hard about it, you’ve been ruminating over everything for days. You were trying not to, but whenever your mind wasn’t focused on a case or the many drinking nights spent in Penelope’s purple adobe, that was where your mind would take you.

“Out of fear, I think,” you started, unsure for a second, still nervous to admit it. It wasn’t exactly what she was asking, but it was a start, “I was afraid, and I still am. I’ve been baiting myself into thinking it was just some sort of fondness, a little stronger than that which you feel towards a friend, and far lesser than what it actually is. I thought that if I didn’t say anything, I could go on lying to myself, and nothing would have to change, we wouldn’t have to change. Because words hold meaning, and an admission like that holds weight. What would I have done if it was just me who felt like this? I would have ruined the one thing we’ve both cherished for over a decade.” It felt good to finally say all of this out loud instead of holding it inward. But then again, Emily always knew when you'd had enough. 

She’d told you time and time again the same thing Hotch had asked of her when she returned to duty after faking her death: “Let me know when you are having a bad day.”. Honestly, you’d held off long enough, and so had she. It was a whole miracle she hadn’t pressed you about your behavior earlier. 

“That’s not what I was asking,” you said, shaking your head with a smile to let her know that you weren’t done speaking. 

“Everyone was suffering as a result of what happened in Mexico, what I was feeling wasn’t any different, Emily.” You were flippant about it, you always have been. You preferred isolating yourself and hiding everything instead of seeking a shoulder to bear the weight of what you felt. 

“Our sadness came from the fact that our friend was framed. And yours? That’s different.” 

“It isn’t,” she scoffed, getting up. Now you really felt like you were about to get scolded like a child.

“Yes, it is. God, you and Spencer are the same. It’s like I’m looking at his doppelganger without the whole… IQ of 187. You share some of the worst qualities a person can have,” you laughed at that, “You are both changeophobes-” you cut her off

“Metathesiophobia, fear of change.” She only raised her hand at you, as if to say, “See, you even sound like him,” which made you laugh even more. 

“You close yourselves off after a sad or traumatic experience, silently hoping you’d be able to get through the worst of it on your own. Most of the time, it’s evident that’s not the case. You only ask for help when you’ve reached rock bottom or have no other choice, but you’ve had a choice from the get-go. Your stubbornness even stems from the same anxieties, it’s infuriating,” she seemed to calm down then, in defeat maybe, or she hadn’t been mad, to begin with, she sat down again. 

“My point is, it shouldn’t have taken you learning that he might be coming home today to tell me all of this. I’ve known for a long time that there was something far more than platonic friendship on your end. You shouldn’t have tortured yourself since his trial to try to put the puzzle pieces together. You aren’t late, you have all the time in the world to say what you feel and what you want, and rejection shouldn’t be a factor, believe me. You need to make peace with that fear because Spencer is coming home today. And whether you are ready or not, you both need to have a serious conversation.” You appreciated her determination about Spencer being released, but then again, you had more than circumstantial evidence to support the fact that he was innocent. But, as always, Emily was right. He was coming home today, and after months of not seeing each other, there were a lot of things you needed to say. 

“I know. Thank you, Emily, for everything,” you whispered, squeezing her tight. 

Spencer’s POV

The first breath of fresh air after being on the inside for months felt far more overwhelming than he thought it would be. Being in charge of your being and your responses and emotions felt almost unnatural like the feeling of it didn’t belong to him. The sound of the wind and the traffic, people’s voices, and even the simple act of getting comfortable in the leather seats of the jet overwhelmed any ability to concentrate and think straight. 

In itself, it was strange. The prison was loud, the prison commissary at breakfast, lunch, and dinner was a cacophony of prisoners talking, cells being opened, and guards barking orders. The yard was loud too, although, in the middle of nowhere, nature could still be heard - the sounds of trees and the lone birds, if he had to guess a mix of Mourning Dove and Field Sparrow. Their songs were soothing most of the time, a welcome distraction from the usual noises around him. 

Without the atmosphere he’d gotten used to and subjected to all of those sounds and people whose presence he found comforting before, he now felt almost out of place. He wanted to feel at peace, he wanted to feel free, and although he technically was, his mind was more trapped than he’d actually been in that 2 by 2 cell in cellblock C.

He kept replaying some of the hardest moments from his time in, every threat, every punch he’d gotten, and the phantom feel of the fists connecting. Luis’ blood on his hands, the smell of bleach incorporated with the drugs, the tip of the sharpened toothbrush embedding into his thigh. All he’d done to survive, harm, and more harm, only to make it out alive. 

He barely recognized himself. He’d deliberately ignored looking at himself in the small plastic mirror in his cell, for fear of seeing what he’d had to become. Gone was the Spencer who’d use his brain to get out of situations, whose obliviousness more often than not helped to balance his intellect with the socially acceptable. Gone was the bubbly personality of a kid excited to share a plethora of facts with his friends. 

In his place sat a man, tormented by the reality of the hatred felt towards him. The reality of being a pawn in a game whose complexity could have been his downfall. A man whose genius, as much of a blessing, could sometimes be a curse. A man who had felt too much and was made to experience far more loss than his quaint heart was able to take. In the end, he kept losing, be it his father, by no choice of his own. His mentor, at the hands of a killer’s insanity. His friends and loved ones, hoping for a better life or his freedom, made to rot in a place he didn’t deserve to be in. 

Some would doubt that he had anything at all left to lose. All in all, how much more could the scrawny twelve-year-old child prodigy, left to survive in a public high school, take? 

His mind had been plagued by that question for years. He’d thought about that more than he’d like to admit. After every loss, there’d been a split moment where he’d asked himself what was next. What would be the next thing life would take from him? And every time, he’d had to wonder if, next time, life wouldn’t reach for the one thing he couldn’t allow to be taken from him. The one thing that, were he to lose, he’d never recover. He had hoped, sometimes prayed, that after everything he’d seen, everything he’d lived through, this would be the one thing that’d be spared. 

Locked in that cage, he’d tried even harder to ensure that there wouldn’t be another loss in his life - not anymore. Be it good or bad, he’d done everything. For 70 days, he’d had to assure himself he was doing what he thought was right, and what he wasn’t saying, he’d be forgiven for. He’d had to dodge questions and see the disappointment in his friend’s eyes, and when that wasn’t enough of a burden to bring all of his anxieties to the surface, he’d resigned himself to reading the words of the person he was doing all of this for - you. 

He’d reread every letter to the point where the edges of the papers were worn out, even though he’d known the contents by heart on the first read. He tortured himself by looking at your handwriting, analyzing the slanting of the words and the pressure of the pen. The little stains on the paper, he didn’t have to be a genius to know, were your tears. It broke his heart, to know he was causing you this much pain. He didn’t need to be there to see it, he felt it through your words.

He often questioned if it was worth it, if he was protecting you, or himself, or maybe even what you were or weren’t.

Even now, the weight of your words sat heavily on his mind, and right by his heart, in the pocket of his jacket, he felt the weight of the 9 letters you wrote. 

As he looked over from the little window of the jet, he couldn’t help but wonder if, in his desire to shield you from everything, he hadn’t gone too far. Ultimately, was he going to be forgiven, or be forced to pick up the pieces of the reality broken by his own doing?

“Don’t do that.” JJ’s gentle voice startled him from the overwhelming nature of his thoughts. She’d spent the last 30 minutes since they boarded silently observing him, waiting for him to pick up a conversation. But he’d decided to stay num. 

In every twitch of his fingers, in his desire to get comfortable but being unable to, she could see that he was restless. If she had to guess, his mind was much the same. 

“Do what?”

She gave him a look, one, had he not known her long enough, he might have been offended by. Clearly, she was offended herself, watching him play the clueless card. 

“Spence, I don’t need to profile you to know that your mind’s running a thousand miles a minute, contemplating your decisions, and I don’t think you should. You did what you thought was right, and no one blames you for that, not for Mexico, and not for what you did after,” she spoke evenly, gathering even Penelope and Alvez’s attention from where they sat. He looked over, receiving a smile and a nod from both before focusing on JJ again. 

Rationally, he knew she was right about everything. He didn’t need to run himself ragged with everything he could have done differently, or search for the perfect way to explain, or overall, the perfect outcome of his own decisions. He knew there wasn’t one, there was no perfect way to say what he needed to, no perfect words to pick so he could fix this and erase the pain he knew he’d caused. 

Perfection wasn’t something you could strive to achieve, because there’s no such thing as perfection. The term was diverse, everyone had a different perspective on what that might look like. If for JJ, perfection was the family that waited for her at home every time she returned from a case, for Spencer, perfection was vastly different. 

For him, perfection was the rich aroma of coffee that could cause someone’s insulin to spike because of the amount of sugar in it. The softness of a book page between his fingers, or the familiarity of a book he’d read before but needed to revisit. 

Perfection was the sound of your laugh whenever he was the one to prompt the sound. The way your eyes lit up every time you listened to him babble on. Perfection was the time he got to spend with you every day, every hour, and every minute that he could remember with almost scary accuracy. 

He could sit and wonder what the perfect way to go about this was, but there simply wasn’t one, there was only the truth. And as painful, hopeful, or even a little dumb as it was, that was the best he could give.

And maybe that’s what his mind should focus on instead, the truth, in its simplest form, at its core the truth he’d hidden for months, and then the truth he’d hidden for years. 

He had wondered long enough if he’d made the right choice. He spent plenty of time focusing on the shame he’d felt, prompted by the disappointment he’d seen in his friends’ eyes whenever they brought up your name. How he’d sit, silent, or give an answer so short and angry, it’d add even more shame to the one he already felt. 

Beyond his time in prison, where he spent most of his time questioning his decisions, he spent years before that questioning himself as a person. His place on the team, his intelligence, even his failings. His inability to form relationships where he’d be seen as more than Dr. Reid, or the skinny kid, pretty boy, or a genius. A relationship that’d make him feel like simply Spencer, without the added adjectives, that sometimes made him feel like a circus clown. 

Only when he’d been locked up, had he started to realize that he’d finally built a relationship with someone with whom he could be himself. The most basic, boring, and peaceful version of himself, and slowly, all had started falling into place. 

How content he felt whenever he was around you, the desire to tell you every good or bad news he received. How when you asked about his mother, it warmed his heart, or how worried he felt when you acted stupid in the field. How out of control he’d felt when you’d gone missing last year. Or even, at the time, the unexplained jealousy he’d felt seeing you talk with another man.

Morgan had asked, once, twice, a lot, if maybe he didn’t have a crush, but he’d denied it, every time. And every time he’d question himself, he'd dismiss the idea just as quickly. 

Yet, upon being forced away from you, the pieces had started mending into one. 

Every realization he’d had was like a new broken piece being glued to the overall mosaic. And every new piece added built everything he felt about you. And it was a lot, and it was overwhelming, and so, so right, it sometimes felt wrong. Because he was inside a prison of his own doing, and you were out there, made to wait for him, for an explanation, for the truth. 

And he’d vowed to himself that the moment he was out, he’d put everything on the table, no matter how much he’d fucked up or how much he’d hurt you. He’d sit there, and he’d let it out, and if necessary, he’d even beg for your forgiveness. 

Because there wasn’t a moment in this life, he wanted to live through, without you there with him.

Your POV

You pulled the trigger, your eyes focused, and your hands steady. Three consecutive shots were fired, each one hitting its intended target. Three more followed, and then as many as it took to empty the magazine. 

You put down the gun and took a deep breath, steadying your heartbeat, trying to rid yourself of the deep-seated anxiety you felt. An odd sense of calm overtook you whenever you found yourself at the shooting range. Maybe it was the everpresent scent of gunpowder or the quiet only disturbed by the firing of a gun. Or even the possibility of escaping your rising thoughts, the desire to run or scream, sometimes both. 

There was a sense of solitude there that almost made it easier to breathe. The repetitive motion and the weight of the gun in your hands felt like second nature. 

Front sight, trigger press, follow through, just like Hotch had taught you all those years ago. As long as you held that gun, your mind was quiet, and you focused on something other than the worry you felt. 

It made sense you found yourself there shortly after Emily had shared the long-awaited good news - Spencer was finally free, and JJ, Penelope, and Luke were on route back with him. For a short moment, you’d felt the weight being lifted from your chest, and then it dropped again, now tripled. 

Suddenly, your earlier conversation with Emily had gotten as real as the target before you. Even with the sense of peace, you’d felt after, your thoughts on the matter clear, you still felt a sense of dread at the idea of seeing him. 

As if he wasn’t your best friend, the man who’d long ago won your affection and captured your heart, but rather a stranger who held your future in his hands. And he might as well be, because whatever the truth to the questions you wanted answered was, one thing was for sure.

It’d either make or break you both.

You picked up a new magazine, and loaded the gun, aiming at the target before releasing the safety. Before you fired again, you released a breath, and with it, all the feelings within you - fear, uncertainty, yearning, and the sense of madness, which, although mild, was persistent.

You fired once, twice, your aim impeccable, and then, out of nowhere, you missed. 

The hair at the back of your neck rose, your heart rate quickened, and the feeling of another’s presence in the room was unmistakable. It took you just a second to put the pieces together, the intrusion felt like anything but that. 

Instead, for a brief moment, the person brought with them a familiar feeling of calm. In the next instance, though, reality came crashing like a tidal wave, and you knew you’d run out of time. 

Your hands shook as you put down the gun. You could feel him watching you, probably standing next to the door, as if he couldn’t will himself to move closer. The anxiety was palpable in the air, although you couldn’t really say if it was yours or his, most likely, it was a mix of both.

You went to reach for your protection but hesitated. Once you took it off, there’d no longer be an excuse for you to ignore him, you’d finally have to meet the reality he’d so carefully crafted for you.

Even though you felt like you could barely breathe, the desire to finally lay your eyes on him won out. 

Without missing another beat, you took off your earplugs and then your eye protection. You could faintly hear the sound of shoes squicking against the floor. He could never stay still when he was nervous.  

You picked up on the sound of your own breathing too, the beating of your heart was almost erratic. You were waiting, what for, you weren’t sure. 

He was waiting too, for you to turn around, to lay his eyes on you. Like a sadist, waiting to see the pain he’d caused, or a masochist, wishing for his own in turn. 

70 days of slowly killing you both.

When you finally dared to turn around, it took you a moment to fully take him in. He looked like the Spencer you knew, yet there was something different about him too. Dressed in his usual suit and tie outfit, he didn’t look comfortable. His posture was rigid, almost defensive. It wasn’t a conscious decision, that much you were sure of.

His hair was longer, pushed back, curling at the ends, and he’d lost some weight. Not much, but enough to make an impression after all this time. He looked pensive, like the weight of the world sat on his shoulders, but maybe it was just the weight of the consequences he had to face.

Your eyes ran over every inch of him multiple times, intentionally avoiding his gaze for as long as possible. Seconds and minutes passed, and you weren’t really sure how much exactly. 

Spencer knew, though, of course, he did. If his fear of meeting you eye to eye was as great as yours was, you knew he was counting until the torture of the act itself was over. 

89 seconds he’d counted, although now with you there, they felt longer than the days without you did. 

When you eventually met his gaze, you felt a part of your heart chip on the inside. What people said about the eyes being a portal to one's soul couldn’t have been more right in that moment. Spencer, a man who excelled at hiding his emotions when he really wanted to, had let them out as clear as day for you to see. 

His eyes sparkled with so much sadness and guilt that it threatened to take you apart even before he had the chance to talk. Something softened within you at that moment, but in the next instance, it was like someone else took over. 

One moment you wanted to cry for him or with him, and the next you felt like your whole being needed to be let out. 

“Is that…is that all you can offer me right now? More of your silence? Don’t you think I’ve had enough of that?” The questions, a few of many to follow, had a bite to them. 

His face fell a little, taken aback by your tone. He fidgeted with his fingers, unsure what to say, or where to start. How could he answer your question? He pictured a scenario where his words flew freely, where he gave you an explanation worthy of forgiveness and a confession, so earnest that it ended with you in his arms. 

Try as he might, the words didn’t come to him, just a barely audible accusation. 

“That’s not fair.”

You scoffed, as if in outrage. A madness, one born out of so much heartbreak, took over, it was blinding. If someone had asked you to explain yourself, you’d say that wasn’t you. You’d never be so forward, almost cruel, to him, but at that moment, being mad sounded so much better than being vulnerable. Like a shield, you weren’t ready to let go of yet.

“How exactly is this not fair, Spencer? It’s the truth!” you yelled, and you felt free, finally letting it all out. “You want to know what isn’t fair, though? The way you isolated me OUT of your life! For three months, I’ve had to stand on the sidelines and beg for scraps, just to know you were okay. Every pitiful look I’d get from the people I consider family felt like another stab to the heart. That’s what’s not fair!” You were screaming so loud. It was a good thing the range was soundproof, otherwise, the whole of the BAU would have been deep in your business by now. 

If he looked surprised by the accusation, he didn’t really show it. His posture took a turn, though. The rigidity disappeared, and in turn, it opened, as if the need to comfort you overpowered the uncertainty or the mask he’d had to hold while imprisoned. 

You didn’t want his comfort, not right now. Maybe later, when all was said and done, you’d get to have a normal conversation without the frustrations of the past. At that moment, you just wanted everything out of your system. You wanted the questions, the answers, and the truth. 

His silence continued as he started closing the distance between you. You wanted to move, to create more distance, but there was nowhere to go. You were squeezed between the range, and him. Whatever else was left than to continue begging for clarity.

“It’s not fair being sent away the first time I came to see you. To learn you didn’t want to see me! Each time it was my turn to visit you, do you want to know where I was? I sat outside that fucking prison, wishing for a glimpse of the person who’s been my rock for 12 years! Holding back tears, thinking you didn’t…you didn’t care like I did. Is this what I really deserve after 12 years by your side?” You almost slipped, you almost told him, and maybe you should have, it might have prompted him to talk or to say something. But no, he stayed silent. Step after step, he limped, his cheek twitched, and his brows furrowed, but like a coward, he remained quiet. 

He was meters away from you, three more steps, and he’d completely close the distance, and meet you face to face. 

“Say something, Spencer, damn it!” Your throat burned from the strain, and he advanced even more. “Anything,” you finished in a whisper, and all of a sudden, all the fight left you, and your eyes watered and your vision went blurry. 

He was just a step away then, and when you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t help but see how they shined. 

He reached forward, one hand taking hold of your arm while the other went to hold your waist, but you shook your head. “No, Spencer, please,” you whispered. You didn’t want to find yourself in his arms, because that would be the last of your composure, gone. You’d surrender to the feel of him like you even had a choice not to. 

He didn’t stop, not until you were snug into his arms, one of his hands at the back of your neck, holding your head tenderly, but the arm around your waist held onto you as if he was scared you’d slip away from him. 

Once in his arms, you finally let go, breaking down into pieces, hoping he’d be able to hold them all from crumbling to the ground. 

“Hey, shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He kept repeating, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your pulse point. All the while, you could only stand, your arms at your sides, as if paralyzed.

Being in his arms felt like being home somehow. It felt so right after having been deprived of the feeling for so long. It felt like there was nothing wrong, and nothing could go wrong at that moment. 

Even though you hadn't initially wanted his comfort, somewhere deep inside, you craved his tender touch. You craved the feel of his body near and the faint scent that was so uniquely him - a mix of coffee, fall, and old paper, books. You realized then that you craved the sound of his voice too, another part of him you’d been deprived of. 

The voice of the always rambling boy that never failed to bring a smile to your face, even when you couldn’t understand him sometimes. 

And the more he whispered, his voice broken and shaky, the harder you cried. You’d thought nothing could match the heartbreak of his actions or the anger of his silence, but the reality of being held against him brought the realization that your suffering mirrored his own. 

If you’d been dying on the inside for months, he’d been on the other side of the link holding you tethered to each other, dying just as much. 

And you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer after that. You buried your head in the crook of his neck, and your arms finally circled his waist underneath his suit jacket, fisting the back of his shirt as if it were your one lifeline. 

You felt him exhale when you finally returned his touch, most likely in relief, before he dropped a light kiss on your head. 

You cried for the relief of having him back and close. For unspoken truths and time wasted, years of figuring out feelings clear as day. For all the anger, for all of his silence, for all you felt for him. 

He cried for all the pain he’d caused you and for all the time he’d wasted being alone instead of being with you. He cried for himself, he cried for you, and he cried, overwhelmed by his feelings for you. 

You clung to one another, crying, and minutes were passing and neither of you cared. Not when you had each other. 

After a while, when both your tears dried out and your cries quieted, but you still felt the need to hold each other close, you dared to murmur a broken “Why?” hoping he’d hear, hoping he’d understand. 

It didn’t take him long to mumble a reply, no longer silent. 

“All the words in the world available, and I wish I could explain.” it came out just as quietly, both of you scared to break the little bubble you’d found yourselves in. 

You pulled back from him, wanting to look into his eyes, red-rimmed and still sparkling when you felt yourself begging again. 

“Then try, please, because I’d rather know, and not understand, than not know at all.” And it was the truth. He could speak in riddles if he wanted, but you needed to know why he’d made that choice. 

You looked at him expectantly before he pushed a piece of hair back, and his hand once again settled at the back of your head, gently cupping it. 

“I wanted you safe from a world you didn’t belong in,” he admitted on an exhale, like a lifelong secret he’d gotten tired of holding onto. 

You looked at him in wonder, and it was on the tip of your tongue to tell him he didn’t belong in that world either, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, he shook his head. 

“I was ashamed when I had you removed from the visitor’s list. I didn’t want you to see me like that, like a criminal,” he started, pulling you into his arms, not wanting to admit it to you eye to eye, out of fear of being right. Of course, he was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from wondering. 

“The first time JJ visited me, they leered at her like they were being fed fresh meat, taking her in, committing her to memory. A cage full of animals. I knew then that I didn’t want that for you, and any guilt I had at keeping you away disappeared that day. It hurt me, knowing I was failing you and whatever trust you had in me,” he whispered, wishing to keep the reality of his thoughts and his feelings in a little bubble as if you only existed in it.

“I’m not the same person I was before, I couldn’t be him, even if it meant losing a part of myself in the process. I couldn’t really be a decent human being without bearing the consequences. Everything I saw, everything I did, and everything that was done to me, I don’t think I’d ever fully be the person I was before. And that too, I’m thankful I spared you from seeing.” It would explain his rigidity, a defense mechanism he’d had to get used to. 

And while everything he’d said thus far was true the biggest truth, he’d had yet to say. He had yet to really explain why he’d done what he’d done in the first place. He was stalling, still afraid, but the longer he held you, the longer he felt your heart beating in time with his, the more sure he became. 

To hell with the consequences, to hell with whatever happened after, he was right here in the now, alive, breathing, his arms around you, finally at peace. 

He pulled back, took your face into his hands, and finally whispered.

“Most of all, though, I knew I loved you enough to risk us if it meant keeping you safe.” It left him in a rush, a confession waiting to be let out for months. A feeling he’d had for years, and a moment where he could finally be open about it. 

“What…?” you licked your lips, shocked that you might not have heard him correctly. ”What does us mean?” This part of the conversation felt like you were daydreaming about it, it just didn’t feel real. 

“It means whatever you want it to be. Whatever you want us to be.” All of a sudden, it was that simple. 

“So, you love me?” You had a hard time taking it all in, yet your heart fluttered in pure happiness. “And you…you want us?” 

Months of figuring out your feelings, years of hiding them, a conversation to finally prompt a confession out of you, and all this time it was reciprocated. You could have cried, happiness like no other coursing through you, pure bliss. 

"Yes.” Even before you were done speaking, he was already answering. He was desperate to finally admit he was absolutely smitten by you. 

You wanted back into his arms, you wanted to kiss him so badly that your blood was burning from the need to feel him like you'd never been able to before. And yet, you knew there was something else you needed to do before you could finally do it.

“Spence, you don���t push away the people you love, no matter the cost. You rely on their love to help aid you when you’re at your lowest.” You gave his sides a light squeeze before you looked back into his eyes, only to see them hopeful and uncertain at the same time.

He looked hopeful, for the possibility that you might actually love him back, but uncertain because it felt like you might be pushing him away this time. 

“I can’t go through this again. Having to watch you wither away, in prison, at home, or by your own thoughts, I won’t be able to handle being pushed away again,” whispers, cries, pleas, memories full of heartbreak intertwined with present confessions full of joy. 

His eyes watered then, his lips trembling. Any sign of hope was gone, and in its’ place stood the realization of a man who’d maybe gone a little too far. He’d pushed you away, and now, it was your time to be the one sticking and twisting the knife deep, breaking his heart in the process. 

If someone were to ask him at that moment what his biggest regret was, he’d say this. This was his biggest regret, his own choices. 

A tear escaped him, and you reached up, wiping it away gently before you spoke again.

“If..if this is going to go anywhere, you need to rely on me. You need to believe that I can handle anything and everything, just as long as you are by my side. All those years of being pushed away - your addiction, Maeve and Gideon’s deaths, your mom’s diagnosis, Cat Adams - you weren’t alone then, you aren’t alone now, and you won’t be alone in the future. You’ll always have me by your side, you’ll always have my support. Most of all, you’ll have my love, but when things get hard, I need you to lean on me, and trust that I can help you because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together.” You finished on an exhale, full-on crying now. You could barely see him, but from the little you could, you saw tears streaming down his face, and a smile that grew wide, happy.

Those words, he knew them word for word. For 13 days, he’d repeat them, no longer needing to see them written down, he had them engraved in his brain. Your letters he could recite, but your final one he’d remember as long as he lived. 

“I promise to lean on you and trust that you’d help me because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together,” he whispered back, his eyes searching yours for just a moment before he pulled you in, and finally, his lips met yours. 

He kissed you, tentative at first, testing the waters. He wanted to take his time, commit your lips to memory, gentle, and plump, exactly how he’d imagined they’d feel. The more he kissed you, the more he couldn’t stop. Passion, urgency, desire - his kisses turned desperate like he wanted to swallow you whole and never let you go. 

He bit your lip gently, asking for access, before his tongue intertwined with yours and he pulled you flush against him, closing any gap left between you. Chest, hips, there wasn’t an inch where you weren’t touching. 

It felt so familiar, even though you hadn’t kissed before. So right, like no one's kisses had felt before. As if your whole lives, kissing each other was the missing piece in a complicated puzzle, waiting to be put together. Coming together as one, it felt magnetic, a feeling of euphoria, pure ecstasy, no one else mattered, no other feeling mattered at that moment, other than your hands on each other and your lips locked together. 

Time was passing by, and you didn’t care. Years of missed opportunities, hidden feelings, and long-awaited realizations all led to this moment. Starved for each other, a kiss full of fervor and even the taste of tears was present. Unimaginable, but very real.

When you finally pulled apart, he wiped your tears, and you wiped his in turn, before he gathered you back in the comfort of his arms, laying a kiss on the side of your head.

And between the four walls around you, nestled in each other’s arms, the place where no one could touch you, in a shared breath you both whispered. 

“I love you.” 

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[rad1og1rl]

“Studying” With Jason Todd

Slumped over at your desk, in your messy dorm, your boyfriend Jason found you. You wish you were asleep. But you have an exam tomorrow, and if there’s one thing you’ve never learned, it’s that cramming is not a valid form of studying.

Can you really blame yourself ? It’s your second semester of your freshman year. You’ll learn eventually. Just not today. As you scribble away at your notes , glancing at the video for reference, you don’t notice the stealthy footsteps of your boyfriend. You’ve got headphones on and you’re in the zone, something which Jason realizes as he approaches your hunched form.

He taps lightly on your shoulder , announcing himself quietly as to not disturb you. At the interruption , you pause the video and place your headphones on the cluttered desk, turning to face him. He grins boyishly , and offers a hot cup of cocoa.

“Oh, Jaybird, thank you.. I didn’t realize you’d be stopping by tonight,” You say, graciously accepting the cup and lightly tugging his shirt, which he obliges by leaning down to meet you for a quick peck.

“I didn’t originally plan to, but someone didn’t answer my texts or calls.” He says, giving you a pointed look.

You grin sheepishly and set the cup on the desk. “Sorry… I think my phones been on Do Not Disturb. I’ve been studying for this exam for hours…. I’m really worried I’m gonna fail.” You admit, pouting slightly. Jason quirks a brow and glances at the video on your laptop, the open textbook, and various notes. He then sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Alright, I get it. I didn’t like chem either. But that’s no excuse to make me worry the way you did. I know you didn’t mean to.” He says, then glances back at you. “But I also know you’ll do fine. You’ve been at this all day. Take a break. Go to sleep. You’re smart. And you studied before this, so you’ll be fine.” You smile and nod, turning off the laptop and shutting the textbook, pushing the notebooks and scattered papers to the side.

“I hope you’re right, Jay.” You sigh, standing up and pushing in the desk chair. You lean against your leather-clad boyfriend, and he embraces you tightly. He pushes you to the bed and you sat down, and he handed you the cup before sitting next to you.

“Trust me. You’ve got this. And I’m tired of seeing my baby stressed over this.” He says, peeling off his leather jacket and tossing it on the chair in front of the desk. He kicks off his boots and makes himself comfortable on your bed, while you sip the hot beverage quietly beside him.

“How was it tonight ? … Out there, I mean. On patrol.” You murmur , still clutching the paper cup with both hands as you stare off into space, post-cram haze and lack of sleep hitting you full force. Jason glances at you as he’s leaned back and propped up on his elbows, eyeing your dazed state.

“Same old. Few goons here n’ there… kicked their ass, got the info, then went to that café you like on 33rd Street and picked up that cocoa. Figured you’d appreciate it…” Jason says, thoughtfully. “I always do. You’re the best.” You say, smiling and finishing the drink, setting the empty cup on your bedside table. “And to think… you even got me something when you were upset with me?” You ask, crawling up further on the twin bed and lying on your side, waiting for him to join you.

Jason catches on and mimics you, lying down to face you with one arm under his head and the other resting between the both of you. “You’re right , I should only get stuff for good partners that pick up their phone.” He says, half-joking. You roll your eyes at his playfulness and reach one hand to his between your bodies, and lightly trace the rugged scarring littering the rough hand.

“I know you’re kind of joking … but I really am sorry I didn’t answer. I know that it really makes you worry.” You say, tiredly. Jason sighs and brings a hand up to pet your hair, placing it on the crown of your head and pushing your face towards his own for another kiss. “Just… try not to do it again. Please.” He huffs, stroking your cheek with the hand he trailed down from your hair to face. You snuggle closer to him and reach behind you onto the bedside table, blindly searching for your remote . Upon finding it, you shut off your lamp and set it behind you once more, cuddling into Jason’s broad chest once darkness settles over the two of you.

“I love you, Jay.”

“I love you too,” He says, kissing your forehead. “Now please , go to sleep. You’ll do fine on that exam.”

[nctstar]

Can I get a smut of Johnny suh using his size and strength kink on a petite female Y/N? Thank you~

heyy! i'm so sorry this is absurdly late :(( but hope you still like it! <3

small

Wasting no time to rid himself of his clothes, he spoke. “This room is fine, right?” Muscles bulging as he fiddled with his shirt, the ridges of his chest drawing in the singlet, you bit your finger almost comically. “Hello? Earth to _?” The brown of his eyes were soft, a sharp contrast to his stature. He smirked, his hair bouncing as he threw his head back slightly. “Like what you see?”

pairing: johnny suh x fem!reader

other members: none

word count: 2.4k

genre: romance, smut

warnings: sexual content so minors please dni!! as per the request the reader is smaller than Johnny but I refrained from describing body parts or her specific size or anything like that, she is just short. if you're sensitive to this kind of talk though maybe don't read <3 mild profanity, lots of kissing, johnny carries reader, manhandling, descriptions of johnny's torso and body throughout, dirty talk about the size of his ding dong schlong, mild degradation (use of slut), ripping clothes bc those muscles do more than lift weights <3, clitoral stimulation/fingering, reader is pretty slutty and dumb during sex (aren't we all), missionary sex, praising (sweet girl, good girl), condom use, talking after sex (post nut clarity fr)

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic. 

a/n: i have been in such a writer's slump particularly with smut! like i think i need some time off to write some good fics and some good smut, so i'm sorry anon and to all my lovely readers if this is shit :(

“Now why would he ever say that?” You peeked at your friend pacing around your small room through your hair. Scissors in one hand, your (new) bangs in the other, you winced. “Wait, girl, I made a mistake I think.”

She sighed as you let the strands flutter across your forehead, uneasiness settling in your stomach. “Didn’t you follow what he said?” Brad Mondo’s curtain bangs tutorial continued in the background as you turned your head expectantly from side to side. Your friend held your head in place with open palms, looking at you through the mirror. “It’s actually kinda cute. Makes you look…well…”

“Don’t say small.” She snorted, bringing a hand to her face to unsuccessfully cover her mouth. “I don’t care, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time.”

You pushed yourself off the stool, rolling your eyes as you started undressing. “He didn’t mean it like that.” Your belt clinked as your jeans fell to the carpet, and you started bringing your shirt over your heard. “I’m sure it was his way of complimenting me.” Despite all your efforts, you couldn’t stop the annoyance that cemented your words into place. “I guess.”

“Girl, you need to tell him that it bothers you.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

“Yeah, and it’s not weird to call some girl you’ve been on two dates with small.”

The doorbell cut through the air, making you both jump. “Shit. It’s like he heard or something.”

“Shit. Wait, just let him in and get him to wait downstairs. Okay?” Sudden panic was settling into your body, making your hands shake. Your friend got the message and hurried downstairs, zipping her skirt up in record time while hobbling downstairs. “Hope I don’t smell like chicken. I hate having shifts on Fridays.”

Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you pulled the skirt over the curves of your thighs and butt, watching the way it held onto your body. Stuffing the ends of the top into the skirt, you walked over to pick out a pair of shoes.

“I’m heading out! Johnny’s waiting down here!” Your friend’s voice made your body do the kind of useless flurry that it does whenever you know you’re running out of time, and you drag out the highest heels you own. Small, my ass.

“Hey!” As usual, he softened his frame when he saw you, placing his hands in his pockets and smiling so big so you would forget to feel intimidated by his 6-foot stature, or rock-hard physique. His eyes were like small moons, bursting on his face whenever he smiled. “Hey, nice bangs.” You instinctively went to fiddle with them, silently cursing yourself for messing them up. “Thanks.” Your smile was a little forced, but you were giddy to see him, your body rocking back and forth without your permission, ankles rubbing against each other.

∞

“The pasta was so good,” you couldn’t stop raving, your hips knocking into Johnny as he walked you home, arms linked. “Like seriously, Johnny. So good.”

He laughed, the sound leaving him effortlessly. “I’m so glad you liked it. I remember the pasta here being amazing, but I was worried you would think I’m cheap or not taking you seriously. The place being run down and all.” You shook your head, your bangs shuffling from side to side as you did. “No, of course not. I would rather eat something good on the street than a tiny portion of something small and pretentious at an upscale place.”

He hummed, moonlight hitting his body, softening some angles and sharpening others, hair glowing golden brown as he walked. Your heels clacked against the linoleum of your front porch as you wondered whether your friend was home, but before you could reach for the front door, your knees buckled. You let out a small gasp as you felt Johnny’s arms around your body, pinching into your skin almost uncomfortably. “Oh shit! I’m okay, babe.” You both froze at the sudden nickname, his arms loosening around you as you straightened up. You shakily continued. “U-uhm, sorry, I mean-“

“I think your shoes broke.”                                                                   

Yeah, no shit, you wanted to bite back. But you held your tongue, frustration seeping through your pores as you held onto the rail, Johnny hovering protectively over you as you took the right heel off, now newly broken in two pieces. “Oh my god. These were so expensive! Ugh!”

“It’s okay. Maybe I can buy you another pair. Babe.” He said the last word almost sarcastically, and you glared at him. “Johnny.”

“I’m serious. I’m sorry those broke so easily. I’ll bring a new pair next time?”

“Johnny, wait.”

“You like me, right?” His face crumpled just a tiny bit. Not exaggerated like in the movies or anything, so subtle you would never notice from afar, or if you weren’t close. You warmed at the thought of knowing him so closely, so well, enough to know that something was not right in the lines of his eyebrows.

You gulped, not knowing how to respond.

“I feel like you kinda hate me.” He crinkled his nose when he said hate, almost sarcastically, but his tone jabbed you straight in the chest. You shook your head. No, of course not, you wanted to say. I like you. I like you so much. But I am small to you. I wonder if you think of me as small. Do YOU like me?

“I just, I don’t like being small.” He frowned, and so did you, the words sounding stupid as soon as they filled the small space between your bodies. “I mean, you called me small the other day. And I know you probably, well, definitely, meant it as a cute thing. Like physically. Like a term of endearment, you know? But, I don’t wanna be seen as small, like more than physically. You know what I mean?” You cringed internally at your words, watching him stare blankly back at you.

“Right.”

“I’m so sorry. I sound like such a jerk. I don’t mean to be hung up over one little word you said.” You bit your lip, tasting the remnants of your lipstick on your tongue. “It’s just what made me feel a little weird. But, I do like you, Johnny.” Your heart raced as you looked up at him. Your body moved without permission for the umpteenth time, and your arms melted around his hips, fingers splaying across the small of his back. Your mind screamed at you, but your body ignored it, burning up from within.

Tentatively, he brought one hand to your chin, skin warm but rough on yours. “I don’t think low of you. I never have. I just think you’re so fucking gorgeous. So perfect the way you are.” The butterflies in your stomach were now dancing, free, leaping over hills and grassy plains. “Sorry for the poor choice of words.”

You smiled, some of the tension leaving you as you let your bodies merge seamlessly, like lanes on an open road, like the sun as it meets the horizon. You kicked off your other shoe, standing on your tiptoes to meet his lips with yours. He tentatively glazed his hands over your sides, making you shiver and moan into his mouth. You brought your fingers to the nape of his neck, savouring the taste. “Mmm, Johnn-“

You yelped when he gripped your thigh, guiding it to press against his hips. “Jump up for me, baby.” You giggled, nodding as you straddled him, his torso gently rebounding back with your weight. As you met his lips once more, dragging your forearms across the top of his shoulders, you heard your front door open and close, the door to the downstairs bedroom fling wide open. As your back hit the bed, your hair splayed out onto the fresh sheets, knees bent, lipstick smeared.

Wasting no time to rid himself of his clothes, he spoke. “This room is fine, right?” Muscles bulging as he fiddled with his shirt, the ridges of his chest drawing in the singlet, you bit your finger almost comically. “Hello? Earth to _?” The brown of his eyes were soft, a sharp contrast to his stature. He smirked, his hair bouncing as he threw his head back slightly. “Like what you see?”

“Uh huh.” All the shame left your body as you drew circles on his body and face with your eyes, letting his thick frame tower over you. “Is this okay?” He breathed into your collarbone, and when you nodded fervently, you felt his lips suck and nip at your neck. Gasping, you gripped onto his neck, letting your ankles hook around the back of his jean-clad legs. “Y-yes. Yes please. Don’t tease, I want y-you so much.”

“Yeah?” He played with the buttons of your top, but you stopped him. “I can’t wait…just rip it off, please. I need you. Right now. Please, just use me. I know you can.” He drew an eyebrow upwards, and you almost felt a slight twinge of embarrassment until you heard the top rip, cold air exposing your lace bra, tits bulging as you arched your chest off the bed. “What a slut. Is this what you wanted all along?” He laughed as you wriggled under him, mouth latching onto the tops of your boobs. He released you only to throw your arms up, pinning your wrists down to the bed to watch your reaction. When you bit your lip in response, bringing your core closer to his, he laughed darkly. “Freak.”

“Yes, just for you, fuck, please.”

“Bet you’re just soaked under this tight little skirt. Want me to rip this off too?” You nodded before he could even finish his sentence, and the sound of your fabric ripping filled the air. “Mmm, just as I suspected.” As he dragged your panties down your thighs, you felt your wetness pool onto the sheets under you. “Please, please, hold me down and fuck me.” You whispered into his ear, letting your plump lips graze against his skin as you massaged the nape of his neck with your fingers. You whimpered when his jean-clad bulge bumped against your clit, the burn in your core growing with every passing second.

He kissed you deeply, pulling away at an agonising pace. “Tell me why, baby.” You whined, trying to gather some friction between your legs with no avail. His arms pinned yours to either side of your head, his legs like heavy weights against yours. “Please, I just, I want your cock i-inside me, w-want it to split me open…” He shook his head. “What makes you think I would do that to you? I’m too big for you, honey.”

You whined. “N-no, please. I don’t care, just, push it in me…” He laughed, kissing you. “Please, I want to feel so full…” He shushed you, sitting up to unbuckle his jeans. “Mmm, yes, yes please…” You were just babbling nonsense, the anticipation too intense to bear. His cock sprung out of his boxers, hitting his stomach, precum spilling out the edges of the tip. You heard him rip open a condom packet, dragging it on his length at lightning speed. He ran his cockhead through the folds of your pussy, making you whimper. “So wet.” He breathed, and you gasped as his tip entered you at an agonisingly slow place. “J-Johnny.” Your brain fought your body, wanting him to continue but feeling apprehensive at the impending stretch. “You’re so big. Fuck.” You snuck a hand down towards your clit, but Johnny grabbed your wrist, leaning over to kiss your chin. “Let me.” As he pressed one finger onto your core, you gasped, back arching, eyes squeezing shut. “O-oh, oh my…”

“You like that?” He started speeding up, your gasps and moans like drugs to his system. When he pulled away, he started pushing his length in, and you let out a deep breath, as if you had been holding it in the entire time. “Fuck.” You drawled, feeling him in every corner of your insides. “Fuck, Johnny. You’re, you’re so big, and s-strong.”

Johnny laughed, and you wondered for a second whether you had ruined the mood. “My cock making you lose your filter, babe?” You blushed, but the constant bump and stretch on your clit had your vision go foggy, your head spinning deliriously. You used your forearms to push away, breathing deeply as if his cock had suffocated you from the inside out. Johnny wrapped his arms around your hips, bringing you flush against his pelvis in one swift movement. “Uh uh, where do you think you’re going?” His snarkiness and the fulness in your lower stomach made your core squeeze excessively. “Ah, shit! Fuck, I think I’m gon-“ You felt it before you could finish your sentence, your climax stealing the words out of your mouth, making your heart thump incessantly against your ribcage.

Johnny cooed at your, his forearms now caging you by your head, peppering light kisses on your face. “You alright, sweet girl?” You nodded, gasping. “Please, please move.” He chuckled, groaning as he pulled back to thrust into you, making you throw your head back and scream. “Fuck, oh my god.” Your body shook with the force of his steady thrusts, his legs pinning your body down to the bed. “Good girl, that’s it.” He groaned, getting sloppier as he reached his climax. “You’re so good for me. So eager for me to pin you down and fuck you. Because I’m so big and strong, right?” You reached for Johnny’s neck, the embarrassment at your previous comments leaving you as you felt your core tighten, coil ready to snap. “Fuck, you just gripped me so tight, fuck. Nasty girl.” You moaned as you came, feeling him release inside the condom with a throaty moan.

Both of you heaving, gasping for air, you pulled Johnny close to your body, kissing his collarbone, his neck, his face. “I do like you, a lot.” Your breath tickled his skin as you spoke, and he stroked your hair gently with one hand, using the other to pull away from you to look into your eyes. “I’m sorry for calling you small. I admit, it’s a little weird.”

“Apology accepted. I think we’ve both called each other things we’re never gonna say again.”

“No, hon, you should always call me big and strong Johnny-“

“Johnny, please. Never mention that again. It was a moment of weakness!” You whined, shielding your face as he laughed, slipping off you to lie next to you on the bed. “Kinda sexy though.” You slapped his arm playfully, laughing as slipped down his forearm to take his hand in yours.

“I’ll think of something better for next time, promise.”

[ch3rriewine]

Photo Booth Kissin' {P.P.}

summary: Peter's an awkward loverboy, but he's your awkard loverboy.

warnings: none i think just fluff :3, TASM!Peter Parker x reader hehe, no use of y/n, reader is kinda like super girly w the bows and sparkles idk

a/n: I HAVENT WRITTEN IN MONTHS SORRY here tho!

Peter’s life was boring—peaceful, but boring. Don’t get him wrong; being Spiderman is cool and all, but Peter Parker’s life could use some work. The most exciting thing that has happened to him recently was the time he got two yolks in one egg. Riveting stuff, right?

During another one of his literature classes that he doesn’t know why he took, he spots you. With a bow in your hair and a knit sweater falling over your figure, your head propped on your manicured hand while scribbling notes with the other. You sit in front of him and if Peter squints, he can see the small doodles littering the pages. Before he knows it, the professor announces that the lecture is done for the day. Peter panics; he wants to talk to you before you disappear and turn out to be a dream, but what would he even say? Doesn’t matter anymore since he chases after you to the door.

“Hey,” he says, looking a tad flushed after tripping over someone's water bottle.

“Oh, hi” you respond, your eyes a little widened at the sudden interaction.

“I, uh, I’m Peter” he say, sticks out his hand for you to shake. You take it and tell him your name. He repeats it in his head about a hundred times.

“I just, uhm, wanted to ask about…” he trails off, trying to remember if there were any assignments given. “The essay he said we had to do, yeah. When is it due again?” he hopes to any higher being that there was an essay due soon.

“Ah, yeah, it’s due next Monday” you reply, giving him a tight-lipped smile, ready to go back to your dorm.

“Cool, uhm, thanks! See you around, hopefully” with that, he bolts, leaving you confused and flushed. Hopefully

The cute boy in your class wants to see you around.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

Two days later, Peter sees you again. It’s in the same class, and you’re as pretty as ever. He psyches himself up to sit next to you.

You look up from your laptop when he asks you if he can sit next to you. You nod, of course, and smile. He looks nervous, with fingers tapping on the table and cheeks a little red. It’s cute.

“Have you started on that essay?” you ask, trying to start conversation since it looks like he won’t.

“Huh? What essay? We have an essay?” he turns to face you, eyes wide.

“Yeah, the one you asked me about?” you laugh a little.

“Oh, no, I didn’t” his shoulders slump back down, and you smile at him.

“I didn’t either; I had other work to finish” he stares at you a little; it’s flattering, really. How shy he is around you. He barely knows you, but he’s convinced himself that you’re the greatest thing ever. He also may have looked up your instagram and fallen even harder as he looked at all your posts. Peter now knows what you ate at Thanksgiving 3 years ago.

“Same, I’m in STEM so you could imagine” he says, resting his head onto the table. Sleep deprivation a thing he is well acquainted with, unfortunately.

“STEM, wow, you must be smart then. Why’re you taking a classic lit class then?” Sure, you might’ve slipped in a compliment; it's not a crime to flirt a little. It takes Peter a few seconds to respond as he processes what you said, you think he’s smart.

“Uh, I was going through a phase with classic lit at the time, and I’ve been lazy to drop it. And, uh, I’m not that smart—pretty average actually. Like the most moderate person ever” He’s rambling and kind of lying. He’s doing really well in his other classes.

“Yeah? I think you’re pretty smart if you’re in STEM. Not everyday a guy is both pretty and smart.” His cheeks turn even redder, if possible, and he makes a sort of out of breath sound. “If you need any help with this class, I’d be happy to give you my notes on the book”

Jesus, you’re gonna kill the poor boy.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

From then on, you sit beside him and throw in some flirty comments while he struggles to reciprocate. It feels too good to be true, how you seem interested in him and how you eagerly talk to him after lectures, even giving hm your number to talk about “class”. He’s waiting for the day you ghost him.

“Hey, would you maybe want to, like, hang out? Like on a date or something? Or just as friends! Actually, yeah, just hang out as friends; forget I said date sorry,“ he flounders, waiting for the rejection. Oh God, he’s just messed up the whole friendship and you’re gonna think that he’s weird and a creep and-

“I’d love to go on a date, Peter,” you smile “I was waiting for you to ask.”

“Oh, great, is Saturday at 3 okay? I’ll meet you outside your building and we could walk to that arcade?” He asks, eyes hopeful.

“Saturday at 3 is great. I love arcades, but you have to help me with the claw machines” For someone so smart and handsome, he doesn’t let himself think people like him.

“See you Saturday, Peter” you tiptoe to kiss his cheek, leaving sticky residue from your sparkly gloss and walk to your next class. He stands in place, a little starstruck and a lot flustered. He leaves the lipgloss there.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

Saturday finally comes, and now it’s your turn to be nervous. You’ve switched outfits countless times, your hair is out of place, and your makeup doesn’t seem to flatter you. You’ve settled on a pretty blue dress with tights to protect you from the small chill. Two little bows clipped into your hair and knit cardigan falling over your shoulders—makeup finally looking presentable enough with maybe a little too much glitter on your eyes, but whatever. Your phone chimes as you’re applying pink sparkly gloss, and your heart skips a beat. He’s here.

You throw your phone and lip gloss in your purse and bolt out the door. You spot him outside your building, as promised. He looks wonderful. Brown sweater and worn-in denim jeans—you can’t believe he’s so shy around you when he looks like that. He finally spots you, and wow, he thinks.

“Hey," he scolds himself for being so casual when he should be whisking you away to Italy, or something. He could’ve at least gotten you flowers.

“Hi, you look great,” you say in front of him, and seeing you up close is making him fall even harder, if possible.

“You look, wow, you’re just, wow” he can’t even believe you’re into him.

“Cmon, I wanna win some plushies,” you say, grabbing his hand and pulling him along. He grips your hand harder and laces your fingers.

The walk is calm and the air is starting to get cool. You talk about class and a show you started. Peter listens intently, making mental notes about what you like and don’t like. Your hands stay intwined, and his thumb traces patterns on the back of your hand. He’s gotten more comfortable and less panicky in your presence, so you get to see his personality shine through. He’s incredibly funny. You can’t stop laughing on your way there, and he can’t stop thinking of more things to make you laugh.

The arcade is dark, with flashing lights from every game. Peter goes to buy some tokens, refusing your offer to pay half. Grabbing Peter’s hand and making a beeline for the claw machines, everyone knows they’re rigged, but you don’t care. You eagerly take the tokens and attempt to win the Kuromi plushie. After the 5th? 6th attempt? When the claw has dropped the plushie, you give up.

“Why do they do this to people! It’s false hope!” you whine to Peter as he laughs at your pout.

“Lemme try,” he nudges you over and puts in a token.

You watch with eyebrows furrowed as he wins it on his first attempt.

“What the hell, Peter?” you crouch to pull the plushie from the machine.

“What? Do you not like it?” He faces you, examining the stuffed, is she a rabbit? What animal even is Kuromi?

“I love her; just, how did you win it?” You look up at him incredulously. He must have some weird power that makes him win every claw machine.

“Oh, I don’t know; just position it right?” He laughs, his eyes crinkling in the process. You want to smooth them out with your fingers.

“Thank you!” you’re genuinely really excited over a cheap stuffed toy, not because you really wanted it, but because Peter won it for you. You wrap your arms around his neck in thanks. Peter freezes. He fees like a teenager at how he’s reacting to a hug of all things. He snaps back and hugs you back. You pull away to kiss his cheek. This is the second time you’ve kissed his cheek, and he doesn’t know how he’ll ever get used to it.

“Lets go play games, pretty boy,” pulling away and leaving Peter to gather his brain and follow along.

You watch as he plays Pac-Man; its silly, but you love his face when he’s focused. Brows furrowed and lips in a thin line. He really is the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. And he’s infatuated with you! Of all people! You swear half the girls in the class have a crush on him, but he gets nervous around you. You play some air-hockey, which you won (he let you win), and he won you some more plushies and some candy at the infamous claw machines.

When the games get old, the two of you leave the building. The sun is setting at this point, and you’re dreading leaving him.

“Oh, look! There’s a photo booth!” you point, excitedly tugging on his arm. “We should take some pictures.” you drag him into the booth, both of your thighs squished together and his legs at an awkward angle. He feeds the machine a few bucks, and the screen starts to count down.

You put on a sickly sweet smile, scrunching your eyes while Peter smiles big with pearly white teeth on display. The second photo you lean into Peter and he wraps his arm around you, pulling your body close to his. The third photo, you go for it. You grab his face and kiss him. His hands stay in the air as the glitter on your lips transfers to his. You taste like vanilla. You pull away, a little anxious that he didn’t want it. Those thoughts get pushed away when he grabs the sides of your face and kisses you until you can’t think. His hands are warm and big covering your cheeks as his lips move against yours. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck once more and deepen the kiss. Your lips move together in tandem as he strokes your cheeks with his thumbs, the movement comforting.

The fourth photo is blurry, and you walk out with all your lipgloss on Peter’s lips.

[justtwotired]

Hello ! I hope you’re doing well. I was wondering if I could get an ask for Sam and Colby. Maybe reader (female or gn neutral pronouns are fine !) is invited to go with SnC exploring an abandoned place but she’s been struggling with body image (I’m kind of in the slumps rn :/) so she’s cut back on food. Through the trip they notice her lagging behind and getting tired easily. She ends up fainting due to exhaustion and lack of food and they take care of her when she comes to. Preferably Colby pairing and lots of angst ! Only if your comfortable writing about this thank you xx 🫶🏽

Why hello there, I am so sorry for posting this rather late, I wrote a part of it, then got busy and forgot about it and just finished and edited it, so hope it’s alright!

I really like this request! Mostly because I can really relate to reader, this is always chill because then I can write five that actually make sense ya know.

I did write some angst but not LOTS, because angst is one of those things I still find difficult to write, but I hope you still like it<3

“What’s up guys it’s Sam and Colby!” Colby started. “Today, we are at an abandoned manor in the woods right behind us. It is quite a walk, but I think we will survive!” Sam told the camera.

“Also, we brought someone with us,” Sam then pointed behind him where I stood rather awkwardly, wearing a huge hoody that I may or may not have stolen from Colby’s closet.

“This is Y/n, you guys know her of course, we had lots of questions to bring her back to the Chanel, so we did of course.” Sam explained before turning the camera fully on me.

I sucked in an unnoticeable sharp breath. Did I look alright? Was that pimple I hid under makeup this morning still invisible? Did the hoody hide my body enough?

“So, N/n, are you excited?” Sam asked and I gave the camera a genuine smile. “I am actually, this place is not too far from my home town and I’ve been wanting to go here for a while, but I didn’t want to go alone, so now I have these two idiots to come along.” I joked and Sam pointed the camera at Colby.

“Did you hear that, dude?” He said in fake sadness. “I thought you where coming with us?” Colby said also jokingly hurt. “I’m still stuck on the fact she called us idiots.” Sam said and pointed the camera at himself.

“Seems like we have to change the channel name to ‘Y/n only’ because she is taking over.” He said and I chuckled. “Oh yeah, definitely, and I’ll give them weekly uploads instead of your monthly shit.” I said and Colby grinned.

“What you’re going to the conjuring then? Staying a week there?” He asked and I pursed my lips. “Well I didn’t say that.”

The two laughed and Sam shut off the camera. “Heading to the forest, then?” He asked and we nodded. Suddenly my stomach made a growling noice and they stopped.

“We could get something to eat first?” Colby suggested and I shook my head. “Nahh, it’s fine, I’m not that hungry really,” I waved it off and kept walking.

“Are you sure? You haven’t eaten breakfast yet and it’s almost two in the afternoon,” Colby said and I just chuckled.

“I’m fine, really,” I smiled at him and kept walking, not missing the look the two of them exchanged before following me.

Truth to be told, the last time I ate would be the crackers from the day before, as I had just a bit in the afternoon after almost passing out.

Colby walked in the back, having taken over the camera from Sam and he recorded as we entered the forest.

I knew the walk would be about 20 minutes, so it wasn’t that bad, but I felt myself stress out when I became light headed.

Oh no, please, please not now.

Passing out has become normal now, the lack of food I’ve been consuming has been taking a toll on me. I never tell anyone, it’s my little secret, I didn’t need them to worry about me or feed me lies of how I was ‘beautiful’ because I know I’m not.

I stumbled and almost fell but steadied myself. “You alright there?” Sam turned around with a small grin and I gave him one back. “I’m fine,” I lied and we kept on walking, Cole shutting the camera off.

When the building came in sight he started it up again, and of course, as if fate had planned it, I fell and I noticed my consciousness slip away.

The last thing I felt was two arms around my waist and I was out.

I heard someone calling my name from afar and my eyes slowly opened.

“Oh, thank god, Sam! Sam she’s opened her eyes!” Colby called out. I slowly sat up. I was laying in the grass and I noticed Sam jogging over with his phone in his hands.

“Are you alright?” I looked at Colby who had a concerned look on his face and I nodded, trying to stand up but he put his hands on my shoulders.

“Woah, lets keep sitting down for a minute, love,” he said and I sat, rubbing my head. “How long was I out for?” I asked and Colby looked at his watch.

“Five minutes at least.” He told me. “Yeah, I tried calling for help, but there’s no service,” Sam said and I gave him a weirded out look.

“What help did you try to call?” I asked and he shrugged sheepishly. “Your mum, I thought maybe this had happened before,” he said and I sniffed.

“It happened a few times, but my mum doesn’t know, and don’t even think of telling her,” I said and the exchanged glances.

“You know what’s happening then?” Colby asked and I sighed. “I haven’t eaten in a moment, that’s probably it.” I confessed and Colby sighed.

“I told you that you should it this morning- when is the last time you ate?” He questioned. “Uhh, yesterday, some crackers,” I said and he clenched his teeth slightly.

“A decent meal,” he clarified and I bit my lip thinking back. “Tuesday, I think?” I said a bit uncertain. “That’s five days ago, Y/n!” He scolded and pursed my lips.

“Sorry,” I said in a small voice. Sam got his backpack of his shoulders and started to rummage trough it, pulling out an apple.

“Eat this,” he said and I took it from him, frowning at it a bit. “N/n,” he said and I sighed taking bite.

They made me sit for about ten minutes, and demanded I tell them why I wasn’t eating. With a bit of reluctance, I told them about how I felt, how I hated how I looked and that I felt like I was to fat.

The next twenty minutes where spent with them telling me all the things they liked about my look and my personality, giving me reasons to eat and demanding we go to a restaurant after this so I could eat a decent meal.

They also demanded I ate a desert, encouraging me to continue eating and not worry about my looks, because in their opinion, I looked beautiful.

At the end of the conversation, I had tears in my eyes, and I wiped them away, and I reassured them that it’d be fine to still film the video, as we all wanted to continue.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

A New World: part 5

Bayverse!Leonardo x reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

A/N: It has been some time, so I decided it was more than perfectly fine to post another part to this story. Here ya goooo

Leo is 25, reader is 22 - 23.

Warnings: None so far💙

“Okay”, (Y/N) said while playing with the pen in her hand, in a way Leo only had seen Donnie do it. “How did the other ninja turtles manage to travel through dimension?” The next day (Y/N) had decided to sit down and brainstorm ideas on how to get Leo home. At first Leo wanted to tell her that she was stupid for thinking that they even could do anything, but decided that maybe it would be a good idea to listen to the girl, who had mentioned his bonsai tree and childhood fear of heights, without him ever telling her about it.

“I don’t know, you tell me. I don’t even fully know how Krang did it, but surely I know how I did it in another universe”, Leo said, a little tired with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. It suddenly made sense to (Y/N) why Leo was the way that he was in Rise. Speaking of Leonardo from Rise…

“Well, there is this one version of you that jumps through portals as often as he changes his underwear”. That comment made Leo stare at her, wondering if she truly was mentally stable. “Probably the best place to start. Leo, swing one of your katanas and see if you can make a portal”.

Leo stared at her in bewilderment. “What?”

“You heard me”, (Y/N) said.

“You seriously believe that is going to work?”, Leo asked, raising his brow muscles at her, hoping that she would tell him it was a joke. But of course she didn’t.

“Well, you’re still in my house, and apparently not just a figment of my imagination, so yeah, at this point I would believe that pretty much anything is possible”.

Leo sighed, annoyed over the fact that she once again had a point. He stood up and signaled for (Y/N) to stand back. She quickly did as he took out his katana, noticing the way (Y/N) was staring at him, almost starstruck.

“What?”, he asked.

“Oh nothing”, she said, slightly embarrassed. “Just kind of always wanted to see you do that, sorry. Now continue, don’t mind me”.

This girl. If Leo didn’t manage to get home to his own dimension, this girl would be the death of him.

Leo held the katana in front of him with both hands, feeling the eyes (Y/N) on him. He had no idea how to do it, and he had no idea if it would work. But he went for it, and did a quick circle in the air, hoping for a light of sorts. But nothing. Nothing happened. No lights, no portal, no nothing.

“Well, that didn’t work”, (Y/N) said.

“Nooo waayyy”, Leo said dragging out the words. “I thought there was a portal right there in front of me!” (Y/N) said nothing but just raised a brow at him. “Sorry”, Leo quickly said, putting his katana away. “I tend to get a little stingy when I’m stressed, even-”.

“Sarcastic? Yes, I know. Remember, I’ve seen every version of you in action”, she said, pointing to the movies, still out on the sofa table.

“Oh, yeah, right, I forgot…” Leo felt his face get a little hot. “So, how else have they been able to travel through dimensions?” Leo could just not bring himself to call them “me and my brother”. They were NOT him, and therefore NOT his brothers. His brothers was where he left them, back in his own dimension.

“Well, most of them involve Krang or Shredder, but for obvious reasons we can’t do those”. (Y/N) was thinking, almost so hard that Leo could hear the gears turning in her brain. “There was that one time - no that was Shredder… Or maybe! - no, Krang did that… WHat about! - no, that was time travel and that was Renet… There was also the time April’s uncle got stuck in another universe… but that was Donnie that got them out of there”. Leo sunk back down on the sofa, listening to (Y/N) thinking out loud. None of what she said rang any bells, and at one point he stopped listening, until suddenly…

“The battle nexus!”

“The battle what now?”

(Y/N) just kind of slumped at that, before breathing out something along the lines of; “this is going to be harder than I thought”.

(Y/N) sat down on the small space left for her on the sofa, and started to go on google on her Macbook. As Leo tried to look along over her shoulder, she tilted the laptop away from him. She didn’t need him to know how many TMNT related videos she had been looking at.

“Do you mind?”, she said.

“Oh… sorry”, Leo said, leaning away again, yet he couldn’t shake the suspicious feeling he got from (Y/N)’s actions. She was hiding something. She was friendly, even though Leo found her slightly annoying at times, but she had not yet given him reason to suspect her of any bad intentions. That was the first time he thought she might be up to something.

“Here you go”, she finally said, turning her screen back towards him. Leo was shocked to be met by a video of a cartoon version of him and his brother’s following master Splinter down an alleyway. Yet the first thing he noticed, that he just couldn’t stop himself from saying…

“Why are we naked in that?!” Leo almost jumped on the sofa, shocked and embarrassed, by the actions of he did not commit himself, but another version of him in a different dimension. “Where are their pants?!”

“Believe it or not, the fact that you’re wearing pants is not that common for the TMNT universe”, (Y/N) said, slightly surprised by his reaction. “Now shut up and watch”.

Master Splinter drew a sigal on the wall, before mumbeling a bunch of words unknown to Leonardo. With that he disappeared through the wall of the alleyway. These versions of Leonardo and his brothers did the same thing, following their father into the battle nexus.

“You want me to try that?”, Leo asked.

“Yeah, and if that doesn’t work, I don’t know what else would”.

“Sounds very uplifting”.

And with that, Leo and (Y/N) sat out to create the portal to the battle nexus. They moved the sofa out of the way, and removed a few of the frames on the wall, so they had space to draw the sigal. Following what was shown in the video, they drew the sigal, and reluctantly, Leo started chanting, the way the other version of him did. And once again, nothing. Leo covered his face with his hands, sighing irritated. (Y/N) asked him to try again, so he did, and still nothing.

Now it was (Y/N)’s time to sigh irritated. She dropped down on the moved sofa and started rubbing the temples of her head.

“This is going to be harder than I thought”.

Leo wanted to be sarcastic, and say something along the lines of; “oh, you think so? Really? Not like I didn’t tell you so”, but he decided against it. (Y/N) was only trying to help him as much as she could, even if her means was limited. And it was obviously starting to frustrate her. Annoying or not, she only tried to help Leonardo.

“Maybe we should take a break and try again later”, Leo said before standing up, towering high above (Y/N) in her seat. It never ceased to amaze her, how tall he actually was. “Food and meditation helps the brain”.

“See that sounds a lot like something you would say”, (Y/N) laughed before standing up herself. “How does Chinese takeout sound to you?”

Okay, maybe she wasn’t that annoying after all. But Leo still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. And if it wasn’t (Y/N), then what was it?

—

Somewhere at a location unknown to the public, deep underground, a man was hunched over an open hatch in his big machine, connecting wireless. It was quiet in his laboratory, except from the sounds of his tools working against the metals of his machine. In the observatory on the floor above, sat a human boy, casting glances at the man on the floor below, before returning to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles comic in front of him. The exact same comic his father and his workers had taken their code names from for easy convenience. But the boy’s attention was now being taken from the comic at the sight of his father, and the boss of the man in the lap, showing up in the opening elevator behind the man in the lap. He watched as his father walked to the man, hands behind his back, talking, yet his son in the observatory couldn’t hear him through the thick glass. Though he wished he did. Yet he watched them in silence, their mouths moving.

“I hope my son didn’t cause too much trouble”, the boy’s father said in his calm tone, causing the poor scientist to jump in surprise.

“N- no, n- not at all Sir”, the doctor said, casting a quick glance at the circular machine behind him. “Nothing that can’t be fixed”.

The boy’s father took a step closer to the machine, taking it all in with his eyes hidden behind glasses. He then turned back towards the scientist, still with an unreadable facial expression, that caused people to fear him.

“Tell me, Dr. Lilja, how long until the machine is finished?”

The doctor started to fidget with his white sleeves, his fingers digging at the fabric. It had become a bad habit of his.

“It is hard to tell”, started the doctor, keeping his eyes away from the stern man in front of him, instead looking at the big machine by their side. “There’s no doubt that your son didn’t do anything on purpose, but it has given us a bigger setback than I first thought it did. It doesn’t mean that it can’t be fixed, but at this moment, I do not know when that will be. It could take as little as hours, days, but could also take as long as weeks, months… maybe even years”.

Lilja didn’t have to look at the boy’s father to know his facial expression. Anger. Irritation. Rage. Even though the young boy couldn’t hear the words of the two men in the laboratory, he knew the face of his father, and he knew that that face meant trouble. Big trouble. The same face he got after he accidentally broke the machine Dr. Lilja had been working on for months. And how did he break Dr. Lilja’s machine, you may ask? He played with his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Leonardo action figure on the machine buttons, while his father and Dr. Lijla was talking in the observatory. After that, he was no longer allowed in the laboratory, but only in the observatory, where he could play with his action figures and read his comics… Yeah, not his proudest moment…

The boy’s father grabbed Dr. Lilja by the neck of his shirt and stared him straight into his scared eyes. The boy gasped, putting the comic up in front of his face, only letting his eyes peek over the edge, watching the interaction play out in front of him. Lilja feared those eyes more than anything. He remembered clearly what happened to Dr. Stockman, last time he caused so much anger.

“You fix that machine in the time I told you to!” He didn’t even have to come up with a threat. Lilja knew what the punishment for not listening to him was.

“Yes! Yes! Of course Agent Bishop!”

It was at moments like this, where it once again made sense to Dr. Lilja, why Agent Bishop had chosen that code name.

[vampwritesstuff]

Forgotten Melodies

Chapter 5 - I Fucking Hate Stairs

Pairing - Kim Hongjoong x Fem!Reader

Genre - smau, post college au, non idol au, fluff, angst, ex friends to friends, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, slowburn

Moving back to Seoul after studying abroad in the States, Y/n couldn’t decide if fate wanted to punch her in the gut or give her a warm hug after she finds herself reconnecting with an old group of friends by pure chance. The only thing is, she didn’t leave on good terms with one of them.

a/n Idk how I’ve had the motivation to be writing so much lately but hey, it’s a good thing for you guys because that means more updates, also I was playing Oasis by EXO on repeat while making this chapter, i don’t even stan them but I need that song injected into my veins 😩 also this chapter isn’t proofread so I’m sorry for any mistakes! Hope you enjoy the chapter!!

Hongjoong had stared at the group chat for at least an hour the previous night. Meticulously studying the photo of you and Wooyoung that San had sent of the two of you pillow fighting. You looked a lot more different than he remembered, hell you even acted differently from the way San had described the interaction, but of course he only remembered the eighteen year old version of you. A quiet and soft spoken girl who somehow was unfortunate enough to befriend Wooyoung and be dragged into his crazy antics, and that consequently led to you making friends with San, and eventually the other boys and Hongjoong himself.

Hongjoong dragged a hand over his face while groaning, tapping his foot impatiently as the elevator took him to the floor that Wooyoung and San’s apartment was on. Hongjoong was tired, not only had his recent clients been a total nightmare to deal with but he’d been in a creative slump for any of his personal projects, and the knowledge that you were back in Seoul and had already reconnected with his friends was not helping soothe his already exhausted and anxious mind. Hongjoong knew you hated him, and it made him nervous to think about how you’d react to seeing him again. He felt guilty for how he handled things back in high school, and when he had finally built the courage to apologize to you, he learned that you had packed up and left for America, which stung if he was being honest. But he couldn’t blame you, he knew that you had always wanted to go to an American university.

The ding of the elevator arriving on the 6th floor broke Hongjoong from his thoughts and slowly he began towards his friends’ apartment. He knocked a few times on the door, slightly confused when the door swung open and a frantic Wooyoung cowered behind him and used him as a human shield. “Wooyoung what are you-” Hongjoong’s question was drowned out by the sound of a feminine voice yelling his friend’s name from inside the apartment. “Jung Wooyoung get your ass back here!” Hongjoong looked forward just in time to see you turn the corner of the entryway looking absolutely pissed as you held a hoodie in your hands.

Hongjoong stood frozen, just as you stopped in your tracks when you realized who Wooyoung was hiding behind. Hongjoong was taken aback by how much you truly did change, the picture San had sent in the group chat didn’t do you any justice. Just as he went to speak, you beat him to it, “I’ve gotta go, I have important shit to do.” You announced, which caused Wooyoung to release his death grip on Hongjoong and whine, “But you just got here.”

“I only came by for my hoodie, you already knew I wasn’t staying for long.” You chided him, completely ignoring Hongjoong’s presence. He could tell though that it was taking a lot of self restraint to do so, if the tension in your jaw, crossed arms and balled fists were any indication to your displeasure of Hongjoong being within feet of you. Hongjoong wanted to say something, anything to have you acknowledge him but once he broke himself from his stupor, you were already walking down the hallway, forgoing the convenience of the elevator and taking the stairs.

“Well that was weird, anyway, come on in hyung. You’re here for those packages right? San showed me where they were before he left this morning.” Wooyoung spoke as he pulled Hongjoong into the apartment.

You were pissed. Pissed because how the hell had you forgotten that Hongjoong was still their friend and at some point you would have been face to face with him? Pissed because of the way you couldn’t look him in the eyes, especially when there was so much you wanted to say to him. Years of pent up anger towards him resurfaced the moment you saw him in the doorway of Wooyoung’s apartment.

You stopped in the stairwell for a moment, taking a moment to catch your breath as you had practically sprinted down the stairs in order to get away from Hongjoong as quickly as possible, “I fucking hate stairs,” you grumbled to yourself, as you exited onto a random floor and took the elevator the rest of the way down. You took the time to calm down and refocus, seeing Hongjoong again felt like having a bucket of ice water poured all over you.

Was it childish to have reacted like that and run off? Possibly, but for the time being you could care less. He wasn’t your priority at the moment, and you could simmer in your anger towards him at a later time. You just wanted to go visit your mom and finally get some groceries in your apartment. As much as you loved take out, your wallet and stomach were begging for something else. Grocery shopping and a visit to the hospital would be a great way to get your mind off of things.

Back in Wooyoung’s apartment, Hongjoong was being interrogated by his younger friend. “So you and Y/n seriously never made up?” The black haired male asked, a deadpan expression on his face. “No, Wooyoung, like I said, I never got the chance to set things straight with her.” Hongjoong groaned as he massaged his temple, feeling the beginnings of a headache.

“Well damn, I mean, I know everything that happened was all just a huge misunderstanding between the two of you, but I didn’t think it had affected her so much that she would give you the cold shoulder as soon as she saw you.” Wooyoung said, and Hongjoong just closed his eyes and sighed.

“I get why she’s upset though, from her perspective you didn’t try to salvage your friendship at all and when you did you were too late.” Wooyoung empathized with you, knowing that if he were in the same situation, he’d probably react the same way. Hongjoong hated how his friend was right, Hongjoong’s priorities in high school were skewed and it cost him a valuable friendship with you. He thought he would’ve had more time to apologize.

“Oh! You know what, now that she’s back, you can start trying to mend things with her!” Wooyoung suggested excitedly, “I don’t know if you saw how she reacted to seeing me, Wooyoung, since you were busy cowering behind me, but there is no way in hell she’s going to let me get that close to her again.” Hongjoong rationalized, or maybe he was making excuses. Yeah, he was making excuses because seeing you and how much you changed had thrown him for a loop. He hadn’t seen you since high school and seeing you in Wooyoung and San’s apartment, the polar opposite of what you were like back then, gave him cold feet.

Hongjoong watched as Wooyoung rolled his eyes and pointed at him, “It’s not like you won’t have the rest of us around to support you, hyung. In fact, I’ve now decided that I’m not going to rest until both of you make up and become friends again!” Wooyoung smiled triumphantly, as if he had just come up with the most brilliant idea.

Somehow, Hongjoong felt like this entire thing was going to backfire terribly.

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Comment or send and ask to be added to the taglist!

taglist: @nilla56 @starrymatz @asherthehimbo

[the-travelling-witch]

can i participate in the event? number 4 please <3, the character i'd like is oikawa tooru from haikyuu, I would like hurt/comfort (enemies to lovers) thank you!!

it took soooo long, i’m so sorry; but this is the last event request which came in in time; thank you to everyone who participated!! ♡

i couldn’t do enemies to lovers though bc that was a trope in and of itself+ combining it with “baking” didn’t give me any great ideas

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Flours for you ﾟ☾. ࿐

trope: baking [space nr. 24]

pairing: post-timeskip oikawa x gn! reader

genre: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

You were disappointed, to boil it down. But it wasn’t like you could openly show it, not on this day, which somehow only made it hurt worse.

It had been weeks since you and your boyfriend could spend some quality time together, most of your conversations being held over text or post-its on the fridge, asking to add butter to the grocery list or saying leftovers from yesterday were still stowed away. You knew what you were agreeing to when choosing to date Oikawa, knew his job took a lot of his time, yet, you couldn’t help but miss him anyway.

A small, hopeful voice in your head almost convinced you that today might be different, it was your birthday after all. His next match was a home game and Oikawa wouldn’t have to travel far away this time. So, no matter how selfish the thought was, you went to bed alone the night before in hopes of waking up to two strong arms wrapped around you and a warm body pressed against you.

When you opened your eyes, his side of the bed was messy but cold. While getting ready for work without much of a spring to your step, you saw his practice bag and keys gone, confirming your suspicions.

As you went about your day with no card, no post-it, no flowers and no text in sight, your shoulders couldn’t help but slump. While really grateful for friends, family and colleagues wishing you a happy birthday, you felt a deeper pang and more unease settle in your heart and gut. 

One thing about Oikawa, he was attentive in any part of life, there was no way he wouldn’t at least shoot you a cheeky message, unless for the first time he actually forgot…

By the time you came home, you were ready to curl up on the couch with a movie and maybe order some take-out, still in disbelief you didn’t hear from the one person you really wanted to see today. There was that same tiny voice telling you the day wasn’t over yet but there was also your best friend on speed dial, ready to see you through the evening.

To your surprise, when you opened the front door, your heart soared as you were greeted by lights, the sound of dishes clinking and… the scent of cocoa?  Popping your head into the kitchen you indeed found the source of the noise to be your boyfriend, whisking something together in a mixing bowl with a look of utmost concentration. 

“Tooru?”

It was almost comical, the speed at which his head whipped around and his fluffy hair bounced with the movement. For a split-second, his features fell in shock before beaming at you brightly. Before you could move from your spot, the arms you had missed this morning were slung around you as Oikawa twirled you around. 

“Mi amor! Feliz cumpleaños!” When he rested his head on your shoulder and basked in your embrace, your hands tightened the grip on the back of his shirt. A sob choked you up as bottled emotions bubbled to the top and your throat closed up. Alarmed at the tears spilling from your eyes, Oikawa pulled back and cupped your face in his hands, a worried look creasing his forehead. “What is wrong? Are you okay? Please talk to me, love.”

“I- I can’t believe I thought– I thought you didn’t remember,” you sniffled past the weight in your chest. The guilt about not trusting him ate you up inside and made you avoid his eyes. “But when you weren’t there this morning and didn’t talk to me and I hadn’t seen you in forever… I just missed you so much, Tooru.”

“I missed you too, angel. I’m so sorry I’ve been so busy with work lately.” He gently wiped your tears and placed a sweet kiss on your temple, his touch lingering just a little longer than usual. Slowly his hand ran up and down the length of your spine until he could feel your sobs calm down. “I really wanted to congratulate you in person, so that’s on me. That was really stupid of me.”

“It was,” you agreed, making him chuckle.

“But you ruined your own surprise, that wasn’t so nice either,” Oikawa said, a soft grin tugging at his lips. “Guess you’ll have to help me finish it to make it up to me.”

The raise of your brow was interrupted by your boyfriend picking you up and sitting you down on the counter. With a clear look at the mixing bowl, you finally saw where the scent of cocoa came from as Oikawa went to preheat the oven.

“Watcha making?” you chimed, making some room for him to stand between your legs as he smoothed his hands up your thighs

“What a question… A birthday cake, of course,” he said, booping your nose.

As your house filled with the smell of chocolate and the sound of laughter, the cake lost a substantial amount of batter before even seeing the oven and it became clear there’d be a lot more clean-up to do than usual but you didn’t mind. After all, spending time with your favourite idiot far surpassed everything else you could’ve wished for.

tagging: @mccnstruck @ukaishin @silentmoths

[anonnluvver]

brett with a very shy reader ? most x readers have a too bold personality for me to relate too lol, gender is unimportant and just headcannons pleaseee :) ty

HIII OMG YALL REQUESTED A WHOOOLLE LOT AND IM SO SORRY IVE TOOK SO LONG TO GET TO THEM BUT I PROMISE I WILL! I’ve just been so busy lately but I’ve finally got some free time on my hands so be ready for looots of posts. ANYWAYS let’s get to it, thanks so much for requesting! (Btw this one is a long one…and cheesy)

Brett x shy reader fluff(gender neutral)

“Deep breathes, okay. You can do this.” You quietly whisper to yourself, nervously fiddling with the seams of your shirt. It’s the first day of your new job in the shadow government at Cognito inc. taking one last deep breath and push the doors open walking up to the front desk. “Hi, im Y/n. Im new here and someone named Reagan said to ask you for instructions.” The secretary just looks you up in down with the blankest expression you’ve ever seen and simply said “go to the 2nd floor, conference room.” You awkwardly look away and thank the lady. Geez so much for good first impressions. Following the mean ladys instructions you stand right in front of the conference doors and give it a quick knock. “Come in!” You hear a women shout. Opening the doors you see who you assume is your boss, Regan. “Hi, I’m Regan your boss . Since of now you are part of the task force.” That was super brief, you thought. You’re a little shocked at how quickly you had been assigned to a job. “Oh um okay, well when do I get to meet this team of mine?” You question her a little scared to meet the rest of your co-workers. “Ah sorry I called you in a bit earlier than everyone else just so you could adjust to your office a bit. I’ll show you the way there then you’ll come back here when your done settling down to meet everyone else.” Regan walks you out to your office and leaves soon after. Your body slumps and your bag falls onto your desk as you sit down. “Well this hasnt been too bad. Regan doesn’t talk too much, which is kind of awkward but I mean so am I.” You talk to yourself in your small office hearing your voice echo a little on the walls from the emptiness in the room. Well I guess I should start heading back I’ve been here a while, sighing you stand up and hesitantly go to the conference room once more. You open the doors to find more people sitting down at the large table in the conference room, all suddenly turning their heads to look at you. In embarrassment your face flushes a little and you look at the floor awkwardly. “Oh, sorry everyone um hi I’m Y/n.” You quietly introduce yourself. “Oh my gosh!” *SQUEEL* “You must be our new co worker!” *gasp* You sharply gasp, surprised by being pulled into a tight hug and squeezed up into the air. Your face grows even hotter and flustered not knowing who is touching you or what to do. You look down to see the person hugging you so tightly and see a tall and really attractive guy. And suddenly your even more flustered if that’s possible. “Brett how many times do we have to tell you, you don’t hug people who don’t know you.” Reagan sighs tiredly, clearly this isn’t the first time he’s done this. “Oh! Right sorry… I’m just so excited to have a new addition to our gang!” He quickly puts you done and apologizes. “Y/n you can come sit down with us now, everyone just introduce yourselves normally please.” Wow, Regan already seems done and the day just started. “Oh okay.” Shit, well where am I supposed to sit? You look to the right and see that weird guy who hugged you patting the seat next to him. You just quickly look away and sit next to Regan on the opposite side from him. You don’t mean to be harsh but you’re just nervous to be close to him. And strange enough he looks sad you didn’t sit next to him. “Alright well I’m Andre Lee, the tasks force one and only biochemist. I also got the good stuff-if you know what I mean wink wink.” He elbows your side while dramatically winking. “You are such a weirdo Andre.” The next girl rolls her eyes at Andre “whatever, I’m Gigi Thompson, best looking one here and PR of the media manipulation department. I’m sure you’ve seen my work because I am everywhere.” She laughs at her own flattery. “And I’m Glen Dolphman, Cognito Inc’s supersoilder and responsible for managing the company’s arsenal.” He says while firmly saluting to the American flag. “Oh and I’m Brett Hand! And uh I guess I just work here.” He laughs awkwardly at the last part as it seems he doesn’t even know why he’s here. “Okay now that everyone has introduced themselves let’s get to business.”

Regans voice just fades out slowly from your head as your distracted by a certain someone. You just stare at him in confusion and curiosity, Brett seems like such a strange yet normal guy. Though as your staring at him you can say he is really cute. Lost in your thoughts you don’t even notice when Brett catches you staring at him at first. He smiles at you and you quickly look away in embarrassment.

Eventually the hours pass you by and your first day on the job was over. You’re glad it was nothing crazy but planning things and paperwork. Reagan promised you’d be safely at the office, just for your first few days. You collect your things from your office and head to your car in the parking lot. Content enough with your first day you decide to get a quick pick me up at Starbucks. You sit at a table by yourself waiting for your vanilla with extra sweet cream foam cold brew, your regular. “Oh hey Y/n, it’s me Brett!” You look at up from your phone in surprise. Brett stood smiling right in front of you. Immediately filled with awkward nervousness you look away from him and down the the table. “Um hi…” you quietly respond to him, clearly not matching his energy. Brett immediately frowns with sadness. “Hey, I’m sorry that I hugged you without your permission. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I was just so excited to meet you! From now on I promise I’ll always ask before touching you.” Surprised at his apology you look up to see him smiling sweetly at you. You feel your cheeks warm up and little and you start to smile just a little. “Thanks, I really appreciate it Brett.” You finally spoke to him while making eye contact! Brett’s eyes light up with happiness, just glad you accepted his apology. Before either of you could say anything else the employee called out your order. “Oh that’s me, sorry Brett I have to go now but um it was really nice to see you.” You grab your bag and coffee and wave goodbye to Brett. Finally at home lying in your bed trying to sleep, you find yourself staring at the ceiling unable to stop thinking about something. Or more like someone. You couldn’t get Brett Hand out of your head and it was unbearable. What was so intriguing about him to you? I mean surely you cant like him you just met. I’m sure it’s just cause your excited about having a new friend. Yes of course, that’s the answer. All these thoughts rush through your head for the next few hours of you sleepless night.

You wave lazily at the front desk lady on your way into the office this morning, tired from you lack of sleep from last night. You drop a few things off at the office and report to the conference room shortly after as Reagan directed. You walk in and it’s just Reagan, seems like your a bit early. “G’mornin.” You mumble and take a sit next to her slumping tiredly in the chair. “Woah you look just like me, what’s wrong?” Reagan questions your tired face knowing it a little too well. You slowly lift your head off the table to look at her with half closed eyes. “Hm? Oh sorry, im just really tired. I couldnt sleep last night and I forgot to get coffee this morning too.” You slur and mumble all your words but it’s clear enough for Reagan to understand what your saying. “Ah I get that but my question is, why were you having trouble sleeping?” And before you could fumble over your words trying to make an excuse the answer bursts right through the doors. “Hey guys! How’s it going?” Brett’s energy is way too much for you this morning so you just put your head back down and doze off as Regan and Brett talk for a bit. Yet before you can fall asleep Brett calls out your name. “Y/n, look up.” “Hm?” You hum and left your head of the table once more to look up at whatever Brett wanted. He was holding out a coffee to you. You wake up a little from the shock and slowly sit up straight. “Is this for me?” You look at him confused. “Yes of course, I swinged by this morning to get you it. it’s a vanilla cold brew with extra sweet cream foam!” He gleefully beams at you. “But that’s what I always get?” You look at him stumped “how do you know my order?” Still confused you question Brett. “Oh well I I remember what order the employee called out yesterday when I saw you.” He smiles once more and you gently reach out your hands to grab the cup. And suddenly your sense of touch heightens when your fingers brush softly against Brett’s as you grab the cold cup. You share one last look with Brett before he quickly jolts up. “Oh! I just remembered I should go find the others. I know they’re here probably just running late.” He smiles and heads off to find the rest of your co workers. You just sit there starring off into space from where Brett last stood. “Hey Y/n” “hello?” “Y/N!” Regan yells at you to wake up from your day dream. “Oh regan, sorry I spaced out.” “Yea I could tell. Now let’s get ready for another stressful meeting.” You fully turn your attention to helping Regan prepare for the day.

Once again the work day is over and it’s time to leave as your walking out to the doors of your office you’re stopped by a certain someone. “Hey Y/n! Great work today.” It’s Brett. “Oh, thanks Brett…” fuck you’re internally screaming. Why does this guy make you so nervous? Hiding your face from Brett inevitable feeling the heat flush to your cheeks once more. “Um by the way, thanks for the coffee. It was really cool of you.” Cool? Gosh I sound like a dork. You internally beat your self up for your stupid choice of words. “No problem! Anything for a pal.” He giggles a little from his own statement and winks at you playfully. “Okay we’ll see you tomorrow Y/n!” And with that you both exchanges waves and goodbyes. Once finally out of eyesight you mentally face palm and groan into your hands. Gosh. That was embarrassing “Honey, I just saw that whole thing and whooh that was awkward.” You quickly turn around to see who saw your embarrassing display with Brett and it was Gigi. “Ugh I know but I just can’t figure out why I’m so awkward around him.” You cringe at just remembering your interaction. And yet you find yourself weirdly comfortable talking to Gigi. “Mmhm I think I know exactly why.” She just gives you an all knowing look up and down. “Really? Please tell me why.” You plead do her to enough you so you can just solve the issue already. “It’s because you like him.” “WHAT?” You accidentally yell out in shock covering your mouth quickly. “I mean, why do you say so?” This time whispering so no one near could hear. “Honey it’s written all over that little face of yours.” You groan loudly at her claim. Could that really be the reason your social skills suck more then usual when talking to Brett? “But I just met him, how could I already like him?” You ask Gigi since she seems to be much more knowledgeable in this aspect. “Well I couldn’t tell you. After all how am I supposed to know why YOU like him? All I know is lover boy seems to be developing a few feelings of his own.” And with that mind breaking statement she leaves you alone with just you and your thoughts. Brett like me?? No way. Not in a million years. These words echoing through your head the whole way home. Throwing yourself over your bed with exhaustion more over your conflicting emotions rather than your heavy work load and eventually passing out.

A few weeks pass and your now comfortable in your new work environment, strange but now familiar. Yet one thing has not changed, the awkwardness you feel when around Brett. And yes those feelings Gigi talked about have not left one bit, in fact you’d say they’ve grown over time. Brett’s nice gestures always make your stomach flutter with butterflies and your heart face like some 3rd grade crush. “Y/nnnn, Come on! He clearly likes you, why not just make a damn move already. Everyone in the office practically knows already! It’s so obvious.” Gigi shouts at you while your just trying to enjoy your sandwich. You asked to have lunch together not a therapy session… “Gigi shhh! Don’t say that so loud!” You sigh and put your sandwich down “look, I like him sure but we don’t know for sure if he does and-“ “OH PLEASE!” Gigi cuts you off abruptly shouting and throwing her arms in the air. “He’s always extra nice to you and trust me Brett’s already way too nice. Plus he’s always bring you little gifts all the time.” She huffs and rolls her eyes at you. “Whatever Gigi, I’m not making any moves so sorry to dissatisfy your office romance fantasies.” You roll you eyes back at her and clean up since your lunch break is over leaving back to your office and go finish up some paperwork for Reagan. “Oh I will get my office romance wether you want it or not.” Gigi talks to herself planning a ‘special’ surprise for you.

*KNOCK* *KNOCK* you sigh getting up from your chair to open the door to your office. “Oh hi Gigi, Reagan, What do you need?” You see the two girls standing in front of your door. “Hey Y/n we were hoping you could help us find something in the chemical closet.” Gigi asks in a weirdly high pitch voice. “Sure,what is it?” You ask wondering what it was they couldn’t find. “Oh follow us then we’ll tell you”. So you follow Reagan and Gigi to the chemical closet and go inside. “It’s called fizzyflupflurp acid.” You can hear one of them trying to hold in a laugh behind you “Really? That sounds kind of stupid.” But before you can say anymore they quickly leave in a rush saying to just call them when you find it since they’re so “busy”. Huh, weird. But I mean this whole place is weird. You just think to yourself as you look through the various viles for ‘fizzyflupflurp’ acid. Suddenly you hear lots of giggling behind you and hear Brett stumble into the closet falling right on to you. He lets out a grunt from the impact of you two colliding and before either of you can get a word out you hear the lock click and Gigi and Reagan giggles burst out into laughter. You push brett aside and rush to the door trying to open the door but it’s locked, pounding your fist on the door in frustration when it doesn’t open. “Let us out!” You yell at the other two behind the door. “Yeah, What are we locked in here for?” Brett chimes in. “Oh I think you know why you’re in there. And we’re not letting you out till one of you spits it out.” You can just hear the smirk on Gigi’s face. You freeze in fear and feel your face turn completely hot and red. “Gosh no.” You breathlessly whisper to yourself not wanting to turn around and face Brett. “AH OKAY I ADMIT IT,” Brett suddenly yells out “I MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE STALKED YOUR SOCIAL MEDIA TO LEARN YOUR FAVORITE THINGS.” Brett winces as if you might yell at him for what he’s done. “Brett what? No, this isn’t what this is about. And that’s not a horrible thing Brett im not mad at you for it but it is kinda weird…” you sigh preparing yourself to ruin your small friendship with Brett and make it awkward for the rest of your career. “Then what is it about?” Brett asks confused to what other secret needed sharing. “Well it’s… it’s- gosh um” SPIT IT OUT ALREADY internally yelling at yourself to get it over with. “I like you.” You say extremely quite almost enough for Brett to not hear. “Oh well I like you too Y/n! You’re a great friend, that’s no secret.” He laughs at you for your ‘silly’ secret that he just doesn’t seem to understand. “No, Brett. I like like you. As in romantically.” You muster out clarifying things for Brett. It’s silent. Way too silent that you look up to see his expression and he looks so, shocked? Panicked you start apologizing “look Brett I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable I jus-“. Oof is the noise you let out from being knocked back into the closet door. “Brett?” “I’m sorry, I know I said I’d ask next time before hugging you but I just really needed to this time.” He whispers softly and your heart just melts. You hug him back tighter than ever happy he isn’t upset. “I like like you too Y/n” he quietly says nuzzling into your neck and gently squeezes you reassuringly.

I AM SO SORRY I TOTALLY READ THIS REQUEST WRONG I DONT KNOW HOW 😭. well regardless I hope some of you like it but I am truly sorry anonymous hope you can forgive me🙏.

[destielfanfic]

from the inbox, #10

I love to see new asks about post season 15 destiel fics but my answers are mostly the same, unfortunately. The usual disclaimer applies - our blog transitioned to archive in January 2018, during season 13, and our new fic recs drastically decreased.

Hello, could you recommend any plot-driven fics set post-15x20 that are a bit longer and also explore the relationship between Dean and Castiel? I'm mostly looking for something that is canon compliant (Dean dies and goes to heaven in 15x20)

I’ve answered similar asks on our previous from the inbox posts, so definitely check out those. But for the sake of convenience, here are some links - post 15x20 rec lists Happiness isn’t in the Having and Good things Do Happen . These are mostly short fics, but you can always check out the authors and see if they have longer fics. 

This is random, but do you know any fics where Dean starts dating cas because he feels bad? Something like dean dates castiel as a pity date? I've really been wanting to read something like that :p 

This is very random indeed! Especially if that is meant in a post 15x20 setting. I must admit I’m drawing a blank here. 

hi! not sure if this is the right place to ask this (if it’s not im rly sorry!) but can u rec me some destiel fics where like . dean thought they were dating all along and cas didn’t? sorry if it didn’t make a lot of sense! thanks  

And this is an opposite of the previous ask!

OK, guys, since there is huge interest in post finale destiel fics, I’m opening floor for follower recs/ self recs on this post. Please add in reblogs or notes destiel fics that fit these criteria: 

A - longer, plot driven post 15x20 fics that explore Dean and Cas relationship

B - fics where Dean takes Cas on a pity date after Cas confessed his love in 15x18; canon verse fics are preferred but if you have some AUs, feel free to add

C - fics where Dan thought they were dating while Cas had no idea

＊＊＊＊

We have some fic suggestions from our followers！

A - canon verse fics dealing with 15x20

The Blood Curse by Labgeek2002 [M, 32,700 word count]

Castiel has been rescued from the Empty, but the spell used to retrieve him tears a hole in the dimensional wall that acts as barrier protecting Earth from the pull of everlasting darkness. As the Empty feeds off of Castiel's grace to sustain itself, driving him closer to death with every passing minute, Dean becomes desperate to save him. The only way to repair the damage is for Dean, Sam, and Cas to travel back in time to obtain a witch's stone that's in the possession of John Winchester, circa 2002. A twenty-three year old Dean Winchester will serve as their guide as they navigate the tumultuous father-son relationship that transcends time itself before the Empty draws its final curtain.

Beyond This Illusion by tiaevans87 [NC-17, 161,400 word count]

“Are you serious, Dean? Your djinn-dream started with you dying?” Sam asks incredulously from the passenger seat on the way back to the bunker. “Well, technically it started with us going on a hunt,” Dean points out. He licks his lips, jaw clenching. “I mean, there was Heaven, too, and that was pretty cool.” Sam stares at him. “Unbelievable,” he breathes, scrunching his face up in distaste. When Dean glares at him, he holds his hands up defensively and chuckles weakly. “Sorry, man, but that just sounds pretty lame.” He leans back and folds his arms. “It just…I dunno. Kinda sounds like something Chuck would cook up. Just you and me. No one else. I mean, really?” He scoffs, slumping. *~*~* In which some people come back, Cas learns to be human (the right way, this time), Dean Winchester finally realizes that good things do happen, and they all get their version of the post-credits, apple-pie life they deserved. AKA: Screw Chuck's narrative.

B - Dean takes Cas on a pity date

On Labor by a_good_soldier [NC-17, 24,600 word count]

Cas is back from the Empty, and Dean knows how to be grateful.

because he wears cowboy boots by mmtion [NC-17, 65,300 word count]

When Cas comes back from the Empty, Dean has to rethink everything about their relationship, and Dean’s new, post-Chuck duty. He wants Cas to be happy and get what he wants. So, if he wants Dean, then he has him. Dean’s new responsibility is to be the best boyfriend Cas will ever want or need. If that means moving out of the bunker, and not driving the Impala, and letting Cas fuck him, then that’s what he has to do. It’s an easy deal. It should be an easy life. So how come Dean still can’t quite make sense of it?

[mountainficss]

hi there, everyone!

i am so sorry for my sudden absence. i’ve been working on getting adjusted to school again. i’ve also been at a bit of a creative slump, so i haven’t had any ideas as of late. i’m so sorry for not keeping you updated sooner, but life has been a bit busy! i will try my absolute best from now on to at the very least be active, but i can’t say when i will be posting again. i sincerely apologize for that, but id like to give you all good quality work instead of rushing to meet my own personal posting deadlines.

so in summary, i will try to be active again! but i will be taking a short break from posting. i love you all very much, and thank you for still sticking around despite my absences! i will be responding to all of your personal asks in a little while, i just have plans for today <3

again, i love you all to pieces <3

[dailydragon08]

A World Without Monsters Ch 2

Read chapter 1 here!

Pairing: Raleigh x Reader

Summary:  During a post-kaiju war press tour, you and your copilot Raleigh finally  grapple with the growing feelings you have for each other while also  wrestling the world of reporters, politicians, and more who would  manipulate the world's saviors for their own purposes.

Warnings: friends to lovers slow burn, mentions of depression and anxiety, PTSD, and trauma throughout multiple chapters.

A/N:  Raleigh x Reader series about coming to terms with feelings during a  post-movie events press tour, along with a series of flashbacks showing  how you two met and become close while piloting Gipsy Danger. Sorry it took me so long to post this! Been dealing with some pretty serious health issues but am getting better! Hope you enjoy!

Read here on AO3.

*

December 2025

“A press tour?” you and Raleigh repeated at the same time—rather unenthusiastically.

“Well, don’t sound so excited,” Herc replied. Although the grim look on his face and crossed arms told you he was just about as thrilled as you were. The three of you sat in Pentecost’s old office, the thin strip of window that ran from floor to ceiling revealing the cold winter skies behind your new commanding officer. You still had trouble believing it was a kaiju-free world out there—a world without monsters at last. It was what everyone had wanted, worked towards for years…but, now that it was here, it was like everyone didn’t know what to do.

It had been two months since you’d closed the Breach and in that time, many of those at the Shatterdome had either returned to their families or moved on. About a quarter of the base still remained, you and Raleigh included.

“Do we really have to?” you asked. “I mean, how long is this press tour?”

“Six months,” Herc answered. “And the order came from the White House, so it would be foolish to refuse. They’ve decided to make the first stop Hong Kong to help ease you into it.”

“Okay…but what exactly does a press tour entail?” You looked to your copilot beside you, knowing from his memories that he and Yancy had done some press before he’d died, but nothing like what Herc was describing.

Herc shrugged. “Just…be interviewed, really. Go on talk shows, go to events, talk to different government officials, shake hands, get congratulations, talk to the little people. But since you two are the last two jaeger pilots left…people will probably be a bit crazier than they would’ve been years ago.”

Raleigh sighed and slumped back in his chair, running a hand down his face. You reached over and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. He covered his hand with yours and squeezed back, meeting your eyes. You almost winced at the dark circles that had seemed to take up permanent residence on his face, but yours probably weren’t much better. He gave you a small smile. “Well, at least we’ll be doing it together.”

You smiled back at him, turning back to Herc as he added, “And the official governments of whatever country we’re in will be paying for your accommodations. So you’ll have some of the nicest hotel rooms they can offer, plus no water restrictions.”

“Soooo,” you paused, your hand still in Raleigh’s, “we can take long, hot showers?”

Herc chuckled. “As long as hot as you want. You’ll be pretty pampered from what I’ve heard. You two have earned it.”

“Will you or anyone else be coming with us?”

“I’m coming for support, but they’re more interested in you since you’re young and were part of the mission to close the Breach.” His eyes fell to your shoes, and you could tell he was thinking of Chuck. As much of an ass as he was, he was still part of the team and you couldn’t deny you missed him.

“We’ll be getting a schedule and new orders soon,” Herc continued. “I’ll let you know as soon as we get more information. We’ll be heading out in two weeks.”

“Will we stay in the Shatterdome for the Hong Kong part of the tour?” Raleigh asked, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand. It was almost second nature for you both at this point to comfort each other however you could, mainly through touch. Not that you were complaining.

“No, they’ve got a hotel set up for you in the middle of the city. And…they want everyone to clear out of the Shatterdome soon.”

“What?” you asked, brows furrowing. “But they could revamp the jaeger program, maintain it in case it’s needed again. They can’t possibly think shutting it down again is a good idea after everything we all just sacrificed to keep it alive.” And the Shatterdome was your home now. Where would you go after the press tour?

“I don’t know what their plans are for it. No one has said anything about shutting down the jaeger program, but I’ll try to find out more. They might just want to repurpose the bunker and move the program to a new location, who knows.”

“Doubt it,” Raleigh mumbled. “They’re not known for their intelligence, evidently.”

Herc sighed. “Well, we’ve got our orders. Let’s just concentrate on getting through this without making too many waves.” He chewed on his lip for a moment, his eyes flickering to your and Raleigh’s linked hands. “Dismissed.”

You exchanged a glance with your copilot, sighing as you stood and made your way back to your room. You didn’t even realize you were still holding Raleigh’s hand until Newt’s “hey lovebirds” as he passed you in the hall.

*

August 2025

As the last of the flying sparks faded away, Raleigh’s smile took their place. It was fitting, since it felt like there were also sparks flying in your stomach whenever those blue eyes landed on you.

You lifted your visor to return his smile. “Hey! Looking for Gipsy?”

“Yep.” He’d changed from his torn sweater and worn-down jacket into military-issue cargo pants, boots, and a dark blue sweater that brought out his eyes. “And you mentioned you would be with Tendo? Is he here?”

“Ayyy, Becket boy!”

Raleigh’s face lit up enough to make rainy Hong Kong seem like paradise. They embraced before Tendo led Raleigh a few feet away to the railing overlooking Gipsy as she went through maintenance. You heard Raleigh mutter “so beautiful” reverently as he stared at her and couldn’t help but pretend he was talking about you. Stop it, you told yourself. You’re in the middle of a war for Christ’s sake.

You only half listened as Tendo rattled off all the improvements made to the jaeger before piping up at your name. “What?”

Tendo made his way over to his workstation with Raleigh trailing behind. He stopped next to you and smiled and you couldn’t help but smile back. He seemed to know how to pull happiness from you with just a look.

“I was telling Raleigh how you’re one of our best,” Tendo said. “And a damn good pilot, too.”

Raleigh perked up. “Hey, I forgot to ask. Are you one of the candidates for my copilot?”

You nodded, feeling excited and also slightly sick at the prospect of Raleigh inside your head. You’d definitely have to get a handle on your thoughts beforehand—if he chose you. “It definitely took some nagging, but I did manage to convince Pentecost to add me to the roster.”

He beamed. “I look forward to it.”

You smiled in return. “Me, too.”

“So, um…” he hesitated, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Tendo’s a bit busy, but what about you? Do you want to get some lunch?”

“Tendo!” you called over your shoulder. “Will you survive if I go get lunch?”

“Knock yourself out,” he replied from where he was bent over a piece of machinery. “But not literally. Your hands are smaller than mine, so I’ll need you to help me with this piece later.”

“Okay, I’ll see you in a bit, fat fingers.”

“Hey! They’re buff, not fat!”

You snorted, heading towards the workshop door with a laughing Raleigh in tow.

“So, you two seem like you get along well. Are you close?”

“I’d like to think so,” you answered as you slapped your visor and gloves down on the table near the door, muttering a shy thanks as Raleigh jumped ahead of you to hold the door. “Don’t tell him I said this, but he is pretty awesome. But he’d just let that go to his head.”

Raleigh smiled, looking around the bustling hallway on the way to the mess hall. You remembered how empty the Shatterdome was when you first arrived. You were one of the first people there with Pentecost and Herc, and the task of turning it into the bustling resistance base it was now seemed impossible. Now with Pentecost’s plan to seal the Breach, it felt like everything was finally coming together for the final attack in a way that made your stomach twist in anticipation. You could very well see the Breach up close soon—and may even die in an attempt to seal it. You resisted the urge to sigh, not wanting to worry Raleigh. Although his mind might have been wandering in the same direction.

You’d been lost in your thoughts and silent for some time during your walk, but he didn’t seem to mind. He threw another lopsided smile your way before jogging ahead of you several steps to hold the mess hall door open for you. You thanked him again, your stomach doing little somersaults at his manners. A good portion of the men on base either ignored you or were constantly trying to one up you, likely intimidated by your skillset. You’d gotten used to getting shoved around, whether it was an accident or some jealous peer trying to prove their superiority. Raleigh had none of that and in fact, seemed to even want to make sure you were taken care of, insisting you go ahead of him in line with your tray, offering to help you reach things, and even asking if you wanted help carrying your tray to one of the open tables. You’d heard stories about the nightmare he’d been through in losing his brother and it amazed you that he was still so sweet and protective, making you yearn for the spot next to him in Gipsy even more.

“So how are you adjusting to the Shatterdome?” you asked as you sat across from him. “Or is it pretty similar to the military bases you’ve been on?”

“Well,” he loaded his fork with an impressive amount of food from multiple sections of his tray. “It’s a lot busier, but that’s probably ’cause they’ve stuffed everyone into one base versus being scattered across several. But I was at the Wall before this and that was just as hectic, so I don’t mind.”

“Looks like there’s plenty of room at this table,” a familiar Australian accent said behind you.

You turned and returned Herc’s smile as he and Chuck headed towards you, trays in hand. “Max!” you cried.

The little bulldog’s tongue lolled out of his mouth happily as he broke into a run and jumped up on the bench next to you. You gave him a good scratch behind the ears as he leaned into you, laughing and pushing him away as he tried to lick at your tray.

Chuck slid into the bench next to you, giving you a nod in greeting as Herc settled next to Raleigh, introducing his copilot.

“He’s more my copilot,” Chuck replied, making you roll your eyes. “Right, Dad?”

Herc eyed him warily and you shook your head. Herc was always so sweet to his son who only ever gave him grief in return. While he’d never turned his ire on you, it didn’t mean you wanted to smack him any less.

The urge to smack became stronger and stronger as Chuck tried to intimidate Raleigh into a pissing competition. You’d seen plenty of pilots do it before—and many had even tried to start it with you—and some even ended with fists. Raleigh maintained his composure well, but you could see the fury building in his eyes, his body stiff and unforgiving. You made a mental note to never get on that side of him. You’d heard enough stories to know he could punt anyone into next week if he wanted to.

“Just make sure you keep up,” Chuck said as he stood and adjusted his baseball cap, “or I’ll drop you like a sack of kaiju shit. Come on, Max!”

Max looked at you and whined as you put another bite of food in your mouth. You sighed and threw a piece of chicken up in the air. Max barked happily before snapping it up in his jaws midair, his little butt wiggling in happiness.

“Max!” Chuck called again and Max went scampering after him.

“He’s a smart kid,” Herc said sadly. “I raised him on me own, but never quite knew whether to give him a hug or a kick in the ass.”

Raleigh paused, glancing at you before replying, “With respect, sir, I’m pretty sure which one he needs.”

Herc’s lips formed a thin line before he turned back to his food in silence. The air felt tense, but you couldn’t help noticing the giant salad Raleigh had created out of his veggies, mashed potatoes, bread, and chicken. You chuckled to yourself as you took a drink of your water.

Raleigh smiled, all his earlier menace disappearing the second he met your eyes. “What?”

“You’ve created a monstrosity on your plate.”

He laughed. “Hey, it’s all going to the same place. You should try it.”

“Tell that to my taste buds.”

“Aw, come on, it won’t hurt ya!” He reached over and dumped a forkful of your chicken into the mashed potatoes.

“Hey!” You shoved futilely at his hand while he took the other and spread some mashed potatoes on your bread like butter.

“There you go!”

“That looks disgusting,” you laughed.

Raleigh’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Don’t knock it till you try it.”

You frowned in disgust, sticking out your tongue as he held your mashed potato-covered bread out to you.

“Don’t make me play airplane with your bread.”

Still frowning, but also trying not to laugh at how effortless your rapport felt, you slowly took the bread from him and took a bite. It wasn’t half bad, but you weren’t ready to let him know he won. “Plehhhh.”

“You liar, you like it!” he beamed triumphantly.

You scooped the chicken back out of your mashed potatoes and redeposited them in their section of the tray.

“Hey, that’s the best part!”

“Noooooo, you create as many monstrosities on your plate as you want, but leave mine alone.”

Herc chuckled. “How many kaiju guts have you helped the research team transport and this is what grosses you out?”

“Look at his plate, it’s practically its own kaiju!”

Raleigh laughed loud and bright, drawing the attention of several neighboring tables and you smiled, proud you’d been the one to draw that out of him. For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other with dopey grins on your faces and you couldn’t help but admire how his eyes lit up. When you’d first entered the elevator, before he’d noticed you, he carried the weight of someone who had seen too many horrors. Now, you felt like you were catching a glimpse of the man he’d been before—the carefree Raleigh that had his brother to guard his back and bring joy into his life. You only hoped that if  you were chosen as his copilot, you could do the same.

*

December 2025

“Pretty sure Hermann’s about to run up the wall ’cause of Newt’s—hey, what’s wrong?” you asked as your bedroom door shut behind you with a clang.

Raleigh sat on the bed wearing an unfamiliar black jacket, holding an identical one in his hands. His brow was furrowed and he clutched the clothing like it might evaporate if he wasn’t careful.

“…Rals?”

Raleigh looked up at you in shock and it took you a moment to realize you’d called him by the nickname Yancy had always used for him. You hadn’t meant to; it had leapt from your mouth unbidden and the wounded animal look in your copilot’s eyes made you wish you could take it back.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered so quietly, you weren’t even sure he’d heard you.

His attention returned to the jacket in his hands. He turned it and you could see Gipsy’s symbol in a large white design on the back. You remembered seeing flashes of Raleigh and Yancy wearing jackets just like it before Alaska. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “I actually, um…” He stood, gently wrapping the jacket around your shoulders. “Here, put your arms through—oh, well, it sort of swallows you.”

“Don’t worry, I’m a good swimmer.” You smiled, hoping to ease some of his pain.

He chuckled, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “We can get it fitted. I thought they might be nice for the press tour—or just to have. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.”

“I’ll wear it if you wear yours. We can match.”

He was quiet as his hands gently ran up and down your arms, sliding further down until his fingers were intertwined with yours. When he met your eyes again, you saw tears threatening to spill over.

You frowned. “Raleigh? Are you—”

“I, um,” he cleared his throat, shrugging off his jacket and throwing it on the bed, “need some air. I’ll be back.”

You watched for a moment as he rushed out of the room before something small and white on the inside of his jacket caught your eye. You picked it up to find his name stitched in white lettering on the inside corner. With a start, you checked your own jacket and your heart plummeted as you realized what had gotten him so emotional: there, on the inside of your own jacket, was the name “Yancy Becket.”

You immediately shucked your jacket off your shoulders, slinging it carefully over your arm before running out into the hallway. “Raleigh, wait!”

He turned halfway to the door at the end of the hall leading outside.

You held the jacket out to him. “I can’t take this.”

He gave you a watery smile, sniffling. “No, I want you to have it.”

“Rals, if anyone should have Yancy’s jacket, it’s you.”

He turned to face you fully and took the jacket from you. He stared at it for a moment before slinging it back around your shoulders, holding the lapels so you couldn’t remove it again. “It…” He licked his lips and closed his eyes for a moment before looking at you again. “It feels like this way…Yancy’s protecting you. You have no idea how much you’ve saved me, Y/N. It feels like you’re his way of cosmic apology and it just—it just feels right.”

Now it was your turn to get teary eyed. “Raleigh…”

He cupped your face in his hands, rubbing the rough pads of his thumbs over your cheeks before leaving a lingering kiss on your forehead. You pushed your arms through the jacket sleeves and wrapped them around his middle. He pulled you against him, resting his cheek against your hair as he took a shuddery breath.

A wolf whistle behind you made you jump and you turned to see Tendo walking past. You laughed, Raleigh’s arms still securely around your shoulders as you felt him shake with his own laughter. Despite Raleigh’s sweetness and the comments and whistles you got from your peers, you couldn’t help but still feel insecure. You weren’t sure what you and Raleigh were anymore, really—definitely more than friends, but did he really want to be with you like a boyfriend or even a lover? You two had just saved the world and were just about to do a grueling press tour; he had enough on his mind. The connection between pilots was always special, wasn’t it? Maybe that was all it was.

Raleigh pulled you from your thoughts as his hands fell back down to his sides. “I’m going on a walk…do you wanna join me?”

You smile and nod before following him to the door. Your heart skipped a beat as he jogged the last few steps just so he could hold the door for you, ever the gentleman. As you exited into the cold winter air, you could feel his warm hand slip into yours.

*

Taglist: @that-girl-named-alex @wayward-avenging

[deaf-solitude]

In The Shadow of the Valley Pt. 3 (Squire!Thaddeus x Knight!Reader)

Pairing: Thaddeus x Knight!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings/Tags: future graphic violence, no use of y/n, placeholder knight name for the reader, mostly gender-neutral but reader is called “sir” at some points, the reader is called “my lord” sometimes too, gun use?, not a whole lot going on in this one

Summary: You’re a knight sworn to the Brotherhood of Steel, and you’ve just lost your asshole squire to a yao guai. Maybe it’s for the better, as you prefer to work alone anyway. Unfortunately, the Brotherhood thinks otherwise and quickly sends you a replacement. Turns out that the replacement is someone you never wished to meet again, but thankfully, he didn’t know it was you! Not yet, at least.

TDLR; What if Thaddeus was your squire instead of Maximus’?

((A/N)) SO sorry for how long this took, I was so stumped the second half of this all week, so I just split it in half for now ToT. A bit shorter than I wanted it to be, but I figured I’d get something posted. Also shout out to wiki how for teaching me how to teach someone how to shoot a handgun lmao. If it’s inaccurate im sorry, I’ve never handled a gun in my life

That night went well, as far as you were concerned. Once it got late, Thaddeus insisted on taking the first watch, and while you were hesitant, you eventually relented after he started going on a spiel about having to prove himself to you. You slept buried in your sleeping bag and with your face covering on, and were happy to see it was still there when you woke up to take over the watch. Hopefully, he hadn’t gotten curious while you were sleeping.

What you weren’t too happy to find, however, was that you woke up on your own. After a bit of investigation, you found Thaddeus fast asleep on the outskirts of the camp, having slumped over when he drifted off. You didn't know how long he’d been asleep, and you debated waking the man up and scolding him, but you’d rather do that in the morning when he was more or less coherent. So instead, you settled down next to him and kept watch for the rest of the night and early morning.

When he finally awoke as the sun was rising, he almost didn’t realize where he was. It wasn't until he sat up, groggily rubbed his face, and then caught you staring at him out of the corner of his eye did it finally register in his sleep-fogged mind.

He nearly shrieked as he did, stumbling back and nearly falling over again. “Jesus, what the fuck! What are you doing?” Thaddeus exclaimed, putting a hand over his chest to calm his beating heart. You continued to stare at him, and a quirk of your brow finally got the gears turning his head as he deeply frowned.

“Don’t tell me I fell asleep.”

“You fell asleep,” you echoed, crossing your arms as an amused look shone through in your eyes. It was your turn to be the one jumping back when Thaddeus suddenly lurched forward, getting on his hands and knees to bow to you.

“I-I’m so sorry, Knight Mire! It-it won’t happen again, I-I swear!” He cried, squeezing his eyes shut as he expected some sort of scolding or punishment. All you did was grimace, scooting away from him a bit.

“God, dude, don't do that,” you groaned, not sure how to feel about Thaddeus begging for your forgiveness at your feet, “get up, it’s fine. Just… don’t do it again.”

Thaddeus’ head snapped up at your uncharacteristic reassurance, his eyes wide and unsure. “Wh-what?”

You sighed, pushing yourself up from where you were sitting and dusting yourself off. “I said get up. We have shit to do,” you instructed, refusing to repeat what little kindness had peeked through in your words. You stalked off to gather your stuff before Thaddeus could question you further, leaving your flabbergasted squire in your wake. He was frozen in place for a moment, the rocks on the ground still biting painfully into his knees as he watched you start to pack up camp.

You hadn’t punished him. Hell, you’d hardly even raised your voice at him. Thaddeus couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face, and although he was still a little confused at your behaviour, he jumped to his feet once he realized he should probably be helping you.

The two of you ate quickly and packed up camp easily enough, but you stopped Thaddeus before he lugged that pack back onto his shoulder.

“You need this,” you mused, holding up a spare pipe pistol for Thaddeus since it seemed like he had misplaced his other gun in the fight with the dogs yesterday. You saw the rejection on his face before he had even opened his mouth with how he was nervously wringing his hands out.

“Uh, I… I don’t want it,” Thaddeus mumbled, refusing to meet your eye.

Your gaze hardened. “You need a gun, Thaddeus. It’s not a suggestion.”

Thaddeus seemed to get more nervous—or flustered if the pink tint of his cheeks was any indicator—by the minute. “Yeah, well it won't do me much good. I’m a terrible shot…” He mumbled, his brows furrowing. He hadn’t been so averse to using a gun yesterday, so you could only assume he was nervous he would completely miss again in front of you, his knight. You huffed an amused breath out of your nose at the thought.

“You better get practicing, then,” you chirped, shoving the pistol into Thaddeus’ unwilling hands. You were already stepping into your power armour by the time he decided to open his mouth to protest again. He instinctively shrunk back from your seven-foot metal frame as it powered up, his jaw clicking shut as his desire to argue swiftly left him.

You tilted your head at him, a bit surprised at the sudden change in demeanour. Was the armour really that intimidating? You supposed you wouldn’t know since you were usually the one wearing it. He was turning away to grab the pack before you had a chance to tease him about it.

Once the two of you had gathered everything, you were on your way again. You kept your eye on Thaddeus, making sure he could still carry the pack with his injured arm. He seemed to be doing alright as far as you could tell, as chatty as ever, but a quick check-in wouldn’t hurt.

“How’s that arm feeling?”

Thaddeus perked up at your sudden question, a confused expression falling across his face.

“Huh?”

You nodded at his bandaged arm, and he had to look down at it before he even seemed to remember what had happened to it.

“Oh! Pshh, yeah, it doesn’t even hurt anymore,” he waved you off, acting as if the injury never bothered him to begin with. You skeptically nodded, trying to pick out any irregularities in his behaviour. It was difficult to discern what was normal for him now since he had been acting so differently compared to when the two of you were younger. After a few minutes, you gave up on figuring out if his arm was still bothering him as he continued to talk your ear off.

Suddenly, Thaddeus hesitated for a moment, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he debated what he was going to say next. Eventually, he spit it out, nervously stumbling over his words.

“So… um- where are we going?”

He seemed reluctant to bring it up again, seeing as the last time he did, you had basically threatened his life over it. You bit the inside of your cheek, debating if it was worth telling him.

…Fuck, you might as well.

You explained that the Brotherhood had sent you to scout some raider group rumoured to be using post-war tech for… less than moral reasons. The Brotherhood wasn’t exactly sure what they were up to, so that's where the two of you came in.

Thaddeus’ face screwed up in confusion: this is the information you’d withheld from him? “It’s just a scouting mission?”

“You make it sound simple. We have no idea what we’re going up against,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes at Thaddeus’ underestimation of your task. “We don’t know how many of them there are, and we don’t know the extent of their tech supply or their knowledge of it…”

Thaddeus seemed to be getting more nervous the more you talked.

“So there’s a chance this could end up being a… a suicide mission?”

You glanced at Thaddeus, furrowing your brows at his immediate thought of death.

“Well the plan is to make it out alive with useful information, so I hope not,” you snorted, “all we have to do is get close enough to scope out exactly what we’re up against, and then we’re out of there. In and out, quiet as hell, that’s it. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

Your words seemed to soothe Thaddeus’ nerves, but they had the opposite effect on your own: it would be a problem with Thaddeus bumbling around like a newborn brahmin. You spared another glance at him, watching as he fiddled around with the spare pipe pistol you’d given him. The weapon looked alien in his hands, and he handled it as such, his grip on the gun unsure and stiff. He claimed he was a terrible shot—you’d seen him yesterday with the hounds, you didn't doubt his claim—and it had your stomach churning with worry.

You stopped abruptly in place, Thaddeus immediately on alert as his head swivelled to try and spot danger. “What? What is it? Are there more mutts?” He cried, instinctively backing up so that he was closer to you.

You furrowed your brows, looking down at Thaddeus’ panicked face. “What? No,” you promptly answered, opening up your power armour again to step out. You made sure your face covering was still in place as you stood before Thaddeus, who looked at you with a puzzled expression.

“You said you were a terrible shot, right?” You questioned bluntly, causing Thaddeus’ face to flush.

“U-uh, yeah…”

You nodded, brushing past Thaddeus and unholstering the gun from his belt in the process. Your eyes searched for an easy target out in the barren wasteland, where there happened to be a convenient road sign a little ways back.

“Have you ever even been taught to use a gun properly?” You prodded, turning back around to stare at Thaddeus. He shrunk back under your gaze, a bead of sweat welling up on his temple.

“Of course! I just… um- didn’t pay attention all that much…” Thaddeus practically mumbled the last bit, clearing his throat to try and cover up his confession, but you’d heard it loud and clear. You rolled your eyes; of course, that was one of the lessons he skipped out on in favour of bullying Maximus.

“Great. Today’s your lucky day then,” you muttered, stepping back over to Thaddeus and putting the gun back in his hand. “We’re only spending one bullet on this.”

Thaddeus quickly nodded, still feeling a bit embarrassed that they even had to do this right now. He shrugged the pack off and let it drop to the floor with a thud, stretching his shoulder as it and his back were relieved from the strain of the weight.

You suddenly came up behind Thaddeus, and once he realized what you were doing, he nearly jumped out of his skin. He couldn’t stop his trembling as you took his hands in yours, your chest pressed against his back as you brought his hands up in front of him.

”Relax,” you huffed, but the close proximity of your voice to his ear had the exact opposite effect on Thaddeus. His arms were stiff, his breathing was shallow, and he was trying to keep his face from burning red. You chalked it up to embarrassment, paying Thaddeus no mind as you fiddled with his hands around the gun.

“Make sure your fingers aren’t near the slide,” you chided, moving his fingers down the grip a bit so they wouldn’t get nipped by the slide going back, “and don’t hold on so tight.” You sighed, noting how Thaddeus’ knuckles were practically turning white as the gun shook in his hands.

“S-sorry,” he breathed quietly, audibly swallowing as he loosened his hold a bit and tried to stop his quivering. Aside from the slight shake, he was holding the gun pretty well. That was a good start.

A glance down had you frowning again: his stance was totally off, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he were to fall to his ass from the gun’s recoil. You were quick to knock Thaddeus’ legs further apart with your knee, causing the man’s breath to hitch. You paid him no mind, nudging his non-dominant foot forward a bit too. Thaddeus nearly lost all composure when you slid your hands down his arms, a shiver running down his spine as you adjusted them to give him proper support. This was all seeming far too intimate for him, and much too annoying for you.

“I assume you know how to aim?” You quipped, pulling a scoff from Thaddeus’ lips.

“Of course I do!” He snapped, but you could only chuckle as you watched his ears turn red. Thaddeus proceeded to look down his sights with a determined expression, which was quickly undermined by your hand nudging his up just a touch higher. He glanced back at you with a glare that you were incapable of taking to heart when you saw how red his face was.

Despite this, you were quick to take your hands off of him, backing up with them halfheartedly thrown in the air. “Sorry, sorry,” you mumbled out, an amused smile hidden by your face cover. You crossed your arms as you watched Thaddeus relax a bit now that you weren’t pressed up against his back.

“Remember to breathe,” you reminded him, “and follow through when you fire.”

“What does that even mean?” Thaddeus whined, attempting to slow his breathing now that he had some space.

You rolled your eyes again. “Keep holding the trigger back after you shoot and don’t move your arms an inch. Gives you a more accurate shot.”

“Okay, okay, geez,” Thaddeus muttered, trying to keep all of your tips in order.

“I thought you wanted my help?” You mused, entertained by how frustrated Thaddeus was getting at your nitpicking.

He sucked in a shaky breath, ignoring your remark, before calling out, “C-can I shoot now?”

“Yeah, whenever you’re ready,” you shrugged, sidestepping so that you weren’t behind Thaddeus anymore and could see the street sign. A few tense seconds ticked by before Thaddeus pulled the trigger, a loud bang emanating out and echoing in the wide-open wasteland. Thaddeus’ shoulders jumped at the sound, slightly throwing off his shot, but the quick pinging sound that followed had both of you blinking in surprise.

He hit it.

Just the edge of it, but he hit it.

Thaddeus turned back to you with a grin so wide it genuinely warmed your heart.

“I did it! I actually did it!” He cheered, throwing his hands in the air and obnoxiously whooping in excitement. A display that would’ve originally had you agitated now brought a smile to your covered face, laughing at Thaddeus’ elation.

“You sure did, bud,” you quipped, crossing your arms as a sense of pride welled up in your chest, “really showed that sign who’s boss.” Thaddeus stuck his tongue out at you, blowing a raspberry at your remark and pulling another warm laugh from your throat.

“Alright, alright,” you chuckled, waving Thaddeus off and turning to get back in your power armour, “let’s get a move on. We’ve still got quite a bit of ground to cover.”

Thaddeus holstered his gun once he saw you getting back in your armour, his smile stuck to his face as he watched you. He was trying hard to ignore the butterflies in his stomach that were caused by your laugh; a sound he’d scarcely heard but had already grown attached to. He cursed at himself, his eyes darting away from you as his face flushed softly again. He couldn’t be thinking of you like that, not when he was your squire.

Your garbled voice pulled him out of his stupor, “You coming?”

Thaddeus’ head snapped up like that of a puppy’s, the reddening of his face obvious as he fumbled to get the pack back onto his shoulder.

“Y-yeah, obviously,” he scoffed sarcastically, pulling another chuckle from you. This time he simply couldn’t ignore the fluttering in his chest or the way a smile threatened to break out into his face just from the sound.

You tilted your head as if motioning him to follow you. “Hurry up then, slowpoke.”

[nightxwitch]

Stairs

Credit: The idea of Sebastian trying to climb the stairs to the female dorms while arguing with his romantic interest only to fall on his ass was from @kirke-is-my-name, who kindly gave me permission to write about it. ♥

The characters (other than my OC), places, and spells are all from Hogwarts Legacy.

All main characters have been aged up to 20 years old, since I’m an adult and don’t feel comfortable writing romance about teenagers. This is somewhat of a love triangle situation between Sebastian/my OC Séance/Ominis but will ultimately lead to Séance/Sebastian. Feel free to imagine yourself as the love interest, I don’t mind, I simply don’t like writing “y/n” stories as much. :) I also posted this on Fanfiction.net under the same username. Here's the link if you'd like to read it there:

Some parts are in Sebastian’s POV, some parts are from Séance’s POV. I do hope you enjoy despite the fact that I wrote this all in one sitting! ^~^

Word count: 4,616

Rating: T for a bit of cursing and sensual references.

-

Séance’s POV

“Séance, do you have a moment?” Ominis asked, catching up to me as I exited Professor Hecat’s classroom.

“Of course, what can I do for you, Ominis?” I replied, making a beeline for the edge of the hallway so others would pass us by.

Ominis shifted from foot to foot restlessly, and he adjusted the collar to his robe. “I was wondering- well, I just wanted to ask if you would like to join me at The Three Broomsticks this Friday after classes.”

“That sounds lovely,” I agreed, “will Sebastian be joining us as well?” Sebastian almost always accompanied us when we went to The Three Broomsticks, and on the rare occasion he didn’t, Natty, Imelda, or Poppy had tagged along.

“Not this time…I thought it could just be you and I this trip.” His cheeks appeared a bit flushed, but I attributed that to his rush to grab my attention after class.

“Well, that sounds just fine to me. I’ve got to stop by Tomes and Scrolls anyhow, so perhaps I’ll do so afterward.”

“It’s a plan then.” Ominis replied, a smile spread across his lips. “I’ll see you in final period.” He added before waving and heading off toward his next class.

I turned to make my way to the Herbology corridor.

-

Sebastian welcomed me with a grin and a quick wave of his hand as I entered the classroom, walking to my potting station adjacent to his.

“Hey.” He greeted me.

“Hello Sebastian, how are you?”

“I’m excited for my next Crossed Wands duel. I’ve been practicing and I’m going to destroy Imelda.” The brunette chuckled, before glancing my way. “How are you? You’ll be there, right? This Friday afternoon.”

I froze, feeling guilty already. I hadn’t missed one of Sebastian’s duels yet, just as he hadn’t missed any of mine. “I’m so sorry Sebastian, I’m afraid I’ve already made plans Friday. I had no idea you were scheduled to duel.”

“Oh,” He replied, a disappointed expression on his face, “It’s alright, I understand. I guess I can’t expect you to be at all of them.”

“Maybe I can reschedule,” I began.

“That’s not necessary, Séance. If you’ve already made plans, then you should see them through.” He insisted.

“Alright then,” I replied uncertainly.

Professor Garlick then began rattling off information about the amazing Venomous Tentacula and its different properties, informing us that the plant could even be utilized in certain potions.

-

Sebastian’s POV

The remainder of the day passed, and I found myself simmering for most of it. I couldn’t figure out why, given that Séance had only made plans because she hadn’t been aware of my scheduled duel. Regardless, she had every right not to come. She had no obligation to me. I knew I was acting ridiculous, but I still couldn’t help the way that I felt, even if my feelings weren’t justifiable.

I dragged myself to the male Slytherin dorms, dropping my bag to the ground with a loud thud. I defeatedly slumped onto my bed face-first, groaning.

“You seem to be in quite a mood.” Ominis said cheerily from his bed next to mine, and I jumped at the surprise of his company.

“Ominis! I didn’t know you were there.” I replied, rolling onto my back.

“Forgive me, I’d simply assumed that the person whose eyes worked would have seen me when he came in.” He quipped, chuckling.

I sighed, annoyed, even though I knew I’d usually have found humor in the situation and Ominis’ joke.

Ominis furrowed his brow, turning his face in my general direction. “Alright, what’s wrong? You’re usually mercurial but this is a new level of sulking, even for you.”

I groaned in irritation and waved him off even though he wouldn’t see it. “I don’t want to discuss it. Why don’t you tell me what’s got you so nauseatingly cheerful?”

Ominis grinned once again at the subject, and he clasped his hands in front of him. “If you must know, I’ve got a date this Friday.”

“A date? With whom?” I asked, my eyes narrowing in suspicion. Friday was the day Séance had told me she had plans.

I mentally reassured myself that it couldn’t be her, because she’d given no implication that she was romantically interested in Ominis. In fact, she hadn’t seemed to take particular interest in anyone as of yet.

“With Séance. I asked her today after Defence Against the Dark Arts.” Ominis’ cheeks reddened and he continued to smile, evidently unable to wipe the dopey look off his face.

“That can’t be right, Séance doesn’t date. Everyone knows that.” I pointed out. Many men, and even some women, in our school had tried. She’d turned them all down, albeit gently. “And why didn’t you tell me you were going to ask her?”

“I suppose the right person just hadn’t asked her yet.” Ominis shrugged. “And I didn’t want to say anything until there was something to tell. Now there is.”

“You can’t date her!” I blurted out before clamping my mouth shut, resting my face in my palm.

“And why not?” Ominis replied defensively. His glare missed me by a couple feet, but I got the message.

“B-Because, it’ll ruin our friend group.” I said, scrambling for an excuse. Even to my own ears, it fell flat. “Besides, are you sure she even knows it’s a date? Did you explicitly ask her on a date?”

 “Sebastian, if I didn’t know you better, I’d say you sound jealous.” Ominis crossed his arms over his chest. “I thought you’d be happy for me. And no, I didn’t say ‘Hey Séance, will you go on a date with me?’, but I did ask her to accompany me to The Three Broomsticks. When she asked if you were coming, I told her I would like for it to just be the two of us. I don’t feel I could have made it much more obvious that I was asking her on a date.”

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous?!” I asked incredulously, despite absolutely feeling jealous.

“Because I know you used to like her, but that was years ago. I’d thought you had moved past those feelings.” Ominis countered, still looking indignant. “Apparently I was incorrect.”

“So I might have had some feelings when we first became friends, but that was so long ago! Things are different now.” As I spoke the words, I could feel that they were a lie.

“What stopped you from acting on those feelings back at the start, then?” Ominis asked. “You must not have liked her much if you didn’t bother making a move. That’s never been an issue for you with other women.” He pointed out.

“Because I liked Séance too much. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, or destroy the group dynamic we have. I’m not great with women, I knew I’d fuck it up somehow, so I let it go.” I admitted.

“Did you? Let it go, I mean? Because it sure doesn’t sound like you ‘let it go’.” Ominis pursed his lips skeptically.

“I thought I had.” I admitted quietly. “But now I don’t know how I feel.”

“Well, you better figure it out, Sebastian.” Ominis said coldly. “Because I don’t want things to progress with Séance unless I know there’s nothing between you two on her end. You need to settle this.”

“How can you even like her?” I asked cynically.

“What kind of a question is that?” Ominis retorted. “You know how because you like her, too.”

“That’s not what I meant. You were vehemently against me using Dark Magic and were furious when I learned the Unforgivable Curses. How can you now seek the hand of someone who uses those very same Curses?”

Ominis was quiet for a moment, pondering this. “It bothered me too much at first,” He conceded, “But I’ve known her for so long now. She only uses those spells to protect and help others.”

“That’s the same reason I started learning them!” I exclaimed frustratedly.

Ominis sighed defeatedly. “I’m aware, Sebastian. I stopped raking you over the coals for that ages ago. Where is this coming from? You know you’re not going to talk me out of having feelings for her, right?”

I took a deep breath as well. “I know…” Standing up, I grabbed my book-bag off of the floor where I’d dumped it earlier. “I’m going to the library to study.” I told him dryly.

-

Séance’s POV

Ominis sat next to me in Defence Against the Dark Arts as usual, but he looked much more perturbed than he typically did. 

“Is everything alright today, Ominis?” I asked him, whispering since we were supposed to be listening to Professor Hecat.

He continued looking forward but tilted his head toward me to hear more clearly. “I’m okay, but I think you need to speak to Sebastian.” Ominis murmured back, frowning.

My brow furrowed in confusion, “Why?” I asked him.

“I’ll not say more, you two need to have a discussion.”

And he stayed true to that sentiment, refusing to elaborate when I attempted to get him to throughout the class. The bells rang and the nervousness fluttering in my stomach became a full-on swarm as I made my way to Herbology class, knowing I’d see Sebastian there. I wondered why Ominis had said I needed to speak to him, and whether it was about something bad. Had I done something wrong, or was he still unhappy about me missing his duel?

I entered the Herbology room, my glance nervously flicking toward Sebastian. He was already seated, and even as I sat next to him, he refused to look at me.

“Hi, Sebastian…” I greeted him awkwardly.

“Séance.” He replied curtly.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” I asked, trying to level with him.

“What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong.” He replied flatly, still refusing to glance in my direction.

“Ominis told me I needed to speak with you. He wouldn’t say anything more than that.”

Sebastian laughed dryly, rolling his eyes. “Oh, did he now?”

“Okay seriously, Sebastian-” I began, but he quickly cut me off.

“We should pay attention to Professor Garlick.” He stated dismissively, turning his gaze toward the red-haired woman.

My brow pinched in concern, and I frowned, “That’s a first” I muttered.

Sebastian never had an issue ignoring teachers in favor of chatting with me before. It was clear he was upset, but I didn’t understand why. After all, I’d offered to postpone my plans and he had declined. I didn’t feel I'd earned his ire at all. Then again, he was known to have a temper sometimes. I decided to shrug it off and assumed things would improve on their own. If he didn’t start acting normal by the end of the day, then I’d bring the matter to his attention again.

The rest of class passed without incident, but also without Sebastian so much as looking at me. As the bells chimed to signify the end of the period, Sebastian turned to leave but I gently grasped his forearm to stop him.

“Sebastian, aren’t we walking to the next class together?” I inquired. We had every other day, given that we shared the same final period, where we’d join Ominis as well.

“I’ve got something I need to do before going to class.” He informed me shortly, pulling his arm away and heading off.

I sighed, gathering my belongings, and walked toward Professor Sharp’s classroom for final period.

“Who put a broomstick in his ass?” Imelda asked, watching Sebastian’s back as he hurried off.

“I don’t know. I must have done something to anger him.” I shrugged, looking over at her.

 “Can’t imagine what.” She said, smirking as if she knew something more than I did.

I looked at her suspiciously. “What do you know?”

“Not much more than you do.” She replied, gesturing for me to enter Professor Sharp’s class ahead of her. I found Sebastian already seated. I felt my eyes narrow in irritation. He clearly lied about not being able to walk to class with me since he was here before me. I decided not to sit next to him and Ominis, and instead choose a station next to Imelda.

“So, you’re avoiding Sebastian now?” She asked, quirking an eyebrow. “Here I thought he was the one avoiding you.”

“Things are weird with him right now and I don’t know why.” I muttered, disgruntled. “I thought I should give him space until I figure it out.”

“I’ve an idea.” She smirked at me; a knowing glance shot my way.

“You do? What is it, then?”

“It’s because of your date with Ominis, of course.” She informed me flippantly with a wave of her hand.

I froze, squinting at her. “My what?”

She looked at me, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed “I heard him ask you out yesterday in the hallway. Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell anyone about it. I don’t care enough to anyway.”

My eye twitched as the synopses in my brain misfired. “I…I’m not going on a date with Ominis. He only asked me to The Three Broomsticks. We always go there together.”

“Alone?” She asked, putting an emphasis on the word.

I gaped at her in silence for a moment. “Well, no…”

“That’s what I thought.” Imelda made her point, tugging at the base of her top to adjust it.

“But why would Sebastian be treating me differently because of that?” I asked.

Imelda looked at me like I was a dolt and opened her mouth to answer, but Professor Black interrupted from right behind us.

“My apologies, ladies. I didn’t realize I was interrupting your social hour with my boring instruction. Shall I wait for your gossip about Mr. Sallow to conclude before I continue?” He asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Both of us blushed, embarrassed at being confronted in front of the whole class. I knew my face was beet-red. Each of us muttered an apology.

“Ah, excellent.” Professor Sharp said and then retreated, continuing to teach. I couldn’t pay attention, more focused on Sebastian across the room and my thoughts of the situation at hand. I kept looking his way to see if he had a reaction to what our professor had said in front of the class. He met my stare a couple times, holding it for a few seconds, his face devoid of expression, before looking elsewhere.

‘That’s enough.’, I decided, ‘I’m talking to him after class’.

I had my supplies packed up before the bells even rang and sprang up the second I heard the first notes ring out. I saw Sebastian rushing to escape the classroom ahead of me, but I had been prepared for this and caught up to him.

“That’s it, you’re talking to me right now.” I commanded him authoritatively, grabbing his upper arm and pulling him back once we were far enough down the hallway.

With my hand on his arm, I could feel muscle that his robes hid well. In the last few years, he’d grown up quite a lot. He was now at least six inches taller than my 5’7 height, and I had to look upward to view his face. It was unlike when we first met, and our heights had only been centimeters apart. My hand, fully stretched, still didn’t even cover half of his bicep as I held onto it.

He turned to me, and his eyes flicked to mine, cold and dark. “Oh, am I?” He asked derisively, tearing his arm from my grasp. “And why should I do that?”

I blinked, caught off guard by this reaction. “Because we’re supposed to be friends.” I answered, desperately trying to figure out why he’d be this infuriated.

“Friends?” Sebastian repeated, his posture relaxing deceptively as he raked his hand through his messy brown hair. “I don’t think so.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, my voice wavering slightly. “What is that supposed to mean?” I asked hollowly.

“A friend wouldn’t ditch me to go on a date with someone who’s like a brother to me!” His anger exploded again, and he paced back and forth, continuing to muss up his hair and make it even more wild.

“Sebastian…” I said softly, “I had no idea it was a date; you have to believe me.”

“Yeah, right!” He spat back, “You know what? I’m done with this conversation.” He stormed off, and I followed right on his heels.

I called after him several times, trailing him all the way to the dorms before he finally stopped to turn around.

“What do you want?!” He yelled; expression twisted in fury. “I don’t want to talk to you! I’m done with this, stop pestering me!”

I glared at Sebastian, crossing my arms over my chest. Stepping closer to him, I looked up at his enraged face.

“You’re really this petty? You’re going to end a four-year friendship over a misunderstanding? You have no right to treat me this way! Even if I wanted to go on dates, I could, Sallow. You don’t own me. You are so out of line it’s unbelievable.” I shouted, tears of frustration brimming my eyes. “I’ve sat around waiting for you to ask me out for years, Sebastian. Years, and you never did. I’ve turned down everyone else who asked in the pathetic hope that you might throw me a scrap of romantic attention. Meanwhile, I’ve had to stand by and watch you date a new woman every other month. So, you don’t get to do this. I’m the one who’s done.” I poked his chest, hard. “I’m done talking to you. And believe me when I say I’m done being friends with you, too.” I added, my voice trembling.

I turned and ran up the stairs to the female Slytherin dorm rooms, finally letting the tears fall onto my cheeks now that he could no longer see me.

-

Sebastian’s POV

“I’ve sat around waiting for you to ask me out for years, Sebastian.”

The words repeated themselves in my head several times before they fully registered. Why was I such an idiot? Why did I say I didn’t want to be friends with her anymore?

“I’m done being friends with you, too.”

My jaw finally shut, and I sprung into action.

“Séance, get back here! We’re not finished with this conversation!” I shouted after her, still clinging to my anger as I sprinted up the stairs.

Only, there were no stairs. It became a flat, slippery ramp and I stumbled back, sliding downward and finally landing on my ass. I grunted at the brunt of the fall, my cheeks reddening in embarrassment. If that wasn’t a lesson in humility, I didn’t know what was.

“Impressive,” Imelda said wryly. “That’ll win her over for sure.”

She smirked at me, and I could tell she was holding back laughter. How gracious of her. I stood up again, my fists clenched.

“Will you please get Séance to come down here?” I asked through gritted teeth.

“Why should I?” Imelda asked, that familiar judgmental tone in her voice. “It seems you’ve done enough already. You really messed this one up.”

“Please, Imelda, I’m begging you.” I stared at her, my expression hard and serious.

“Hmm…Alright. But only because you begged. I like Séance. I think she’ll be able to keep you in line. Someone has to.” She gave me an up-and-down glance then disappeared up the staircase.

I paced back and forth, awaiting Séance’s return at the bottom, our conversation on replay in my mind.

-

Séance’s POV

Imelda approached me, and I knew I looked like a full-on lunatic. I had tears running down my cheeks from when I was upset only a minute ago, but now I was also stifling laughter after what I’d just witnessed. Sebastian, fully in his rage-mode, getting dumped onto his ass by a magic staircase. I started chuckling all over again. There were too many emotions brewing within me. Embarrassment that I’d finally admitted my feelings for him, fear over what the things that had transpired between us would mean and how things would change moving forward, anger that he was treating me so poorly, helplessness over the entire situation, hurt that he tried to end our friendship over nothing, and humor over the staircase situation. I laughed again as I thought of it.

“I see you watched Sebastian’s staircase debacle.” Imelda said, a mirthful smile playing on her lips.

I smirked back at her. “It was quite a finale to a hellish display.”

She gave a bark of a laugh, then sat next to me on my bed, touching my shoulder. “Are you alright?”

I looked over at her, noticing for the hundredth time how pretty she was. For all her snark, surface-level narcissism, and detached demeanor, she was quite wonderful once you got to know her.

“Yes, Imelda, I’m fine. Thank you for checking on me.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” She said, leaning further on the bed and crossing her legs underneath her. “Well, that and…”

“And what?” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose to take the edge off my headache. “What did Sebastian say to you?”

“He really wants you to go back down and talk to him. He literally begged me to come get you. As much as I usually love seeing a cocky, delusional man resort to begging, I did actually feel a bit bad for him.” She bit her index finger, looking off into the distance as she thought about it. “You are quite something to lose.”

“You should have heard the way he was talking to me, Imelda.” I refuted. “But thank you, that’s sweet of you to say.”

“I did hear him. Well, most of what he said, anyway. There’s a lot of passion in that man.” She grinned over at me. “That kind of passion transfers well into other areas, if you catch my meaning.”

I laughed a bit and then sighed, shaking my head. “Only you, Imelda.”

I blushed upon pondering what she’d said. Sebastian was nothing if not passionate.

“There is no one like me.” She remarked, her hand flat under her face to frame it and exaggerate her statement. “So, are you going to go talk to him?”

I groaned, tilting my head, and glanced toward her. “Should I?”

“I’ve got to say, I’m rooting for him. He’s got fire, that one. Men without fire are so boring.” She snickered. “Besides, you’re obviously mad for each other.”

My face reddened again as I opened my mouth to deny it, but I couldn’t. “How do you know?”

“Are you serious?” She scoffed, throwing her hand to the side in front of her. “For one, I could cut the sexual tension between you two with a knife. The way he looks at you- it’s like he’s a starving wolf and you’re a giant steak dinner.”

I laughed, rolling my eyes at her exaggeration.

“On a more serious note, I’ve observed both of you the last few years and you’re always taking care of each other. He’s loved you for a long time. Why do you think he dumps the girls he dates before things get too serious with them? Besides, even when others turned their backs on him, you never did. Why start now?”

Her last sentence rang in my ears, and I looked at her, shocked.

“What?! I do say something profound every once in a while.” She said defensively, raising her eyebrow at me. “What are you still doing here? Go, go. Get your man.” She shooed me away like a pet who was begging at mealtime.

“Alright.” I said, standing up. “And Imelda? Thank you.”

“It was nothing.” She waved me off as I left the room.  

I silently made my way down the staircase, unsure if Sebastian would even still be waiting after so long. He was. I found him seated at the bottom of the stairs, against the opposite wall. His knees were bent, his elbows resting on them, and his long fingers wound through his hair. I could tell just by a glance that he was horribly upset. I got down on my knees in front of him.

“Sebastian,” I said gently.

“I’m sorry.” He said immediately, the words flat. It was obvious he was beating himself up over it all. “For everything. I didn’t mean it.”

I leaned forward and took his hands, gently untangling them from his hair and holding them in my own. His stayed limp and pliant.

“Look at me.” I requested, squeezing his hands in mine.

He slowly turned his face upward, meeting my gaze. His irises were dark and murky, his cheeks and eyes rouged. I could tell he had shed at least a few tears. My throat felt tight at the realization, and my eyes began to water. Sebastian had cried because of me.

“I’m sorry, too.” I whispered. “I didn’t mean it either.”

He shut his eyes and shook his head for a moment before staring back into mine.

“For what?” He asked. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m the one who started everything. I’ve been acting like an idiot because I’m jealous.”

“I’m sorry I hurt you. I never would have agreed to go with Ominis if I’d known he looked at it that way. You know that.”

“I know…” Sebastian admitted, his brow furrowed as he leaned his head back to rest against the cool stone of the wall. He seemed to have no energy left in him. “But jealousy obviously isn't the most logical of emotions.”

“Why are you jealous?” I asked, wanting to know the extent of how he felt.

His head lulled forward, and he gazed up at me with an obvious expression, his brows lifted emphatically. “You know why.”

I sighed, giving him an exasperated look. “You’re really going to make me-”

In one quick movement, he’d leaned forward, simultaneously pulling my hands so I fell closer to him. His full lips claimed mine and he freed one of my hands, his interlacing itself in my hair as he held my head to his own. He pulled back an inch, and I felt his breath against my lips.

“I’m in love with you.” He murmured, resting his forehead against mine. “I don’t want to be friends anymore because I want to be much more than that.”

My heart was hammering in my chest. I’d been waiting to hear those words, or any words like them, from him for so long. I leaned forward, kissing him once again. He reached around me and pulled my legs apart, tugging me onto his lap to straddle him as he deepened the kiss. My legs wrapped around his waist, his thighs supporting my backside. His tongue danced with mine and I moaned softly against his kiss, my hands entangled in his hair. He gently bit my lip, one hand reaching around to grab my ass and hold me closer to him while the other remained cupping the side of my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

“I love you too, Sebastian.” I said so softly it was almost a whisper.

His coffee-black eyes flicked up and down my face, taking in every inch of it. He breath came and went quickly, and I could feel his excitement brush against me. I stroked his cheek, running my thumb along the spray of freckles there.

“You’re beautiful.” He murmured, leaning in to kiss me again.

“I’m really going to have to cancel that date.” I said and groaned, breaking off the kiss. I was already feeling bad for Ominis.

“Yes, you are.” He confirmed, laying me on my back and hovering over me, his strong arm underneath my waist to prop me up. He began kissing down the crook of my neck, then back up until he got to my ear. “Because you’re mine now.”