#and drawing for x amount of hours after I just spent all day drawing is probably a bad idea.

[reidmania]

in between | spencer reid

good riddance x spencer reid one shot masterlist.

part one, part two, part three

summary; after being together for two months, you and spencer had yet to go further than making out, until now.

warnings; 18+ mdni, soft dom spencer, no actual sex. fingering, slightly inexperienced reader, a tiny bit more experienced spencer, mentions of bad sexual relations in the past, references longer hair on reader

an; i suck at writing smut so i refuse to be held responsible for this cause ik i asked but u guys really gave me no choice ‘100% for yes part 3 should have smut’ MY ASS. y’all hate me and want me to die.

‘She toes the line between 'em, he says he's new at this, there's holy ground beneath them, and sparks fly when they kiss. He hates it when she's crying, he hates when she's away, even at their worst, they know they'll still be okay.’

<>

In the two months that you and Spencer had been together you had seen him four times. Which was a disgustingly low amount, you both hated it — That wasn’t a question, but with him working so much and you living in a different state, you both did your best.

You saw him on weekends when you could, when he wasn’t away on a case. Sometimes he would take a day trip to see you, just to get coffee or go to the library together. He never didn’t make an effort, anytime you two could see each other, you did.

Like now, Spencer knew it was almost silly to celebrate two months together in an extravagant way, but it gave him the perfect excuse to see you — Not that he needed one, but he wasn’t gonna waste it either way.

He had made it very clear to Hotch that if a case came up, or if anyone from the team called him — He wouldn’t be answering, after the two of you had been interrupted one time you came to stay at his place, he got a call about a case, by the time he got home you had already left due to the time of your flight.

He refused to have that happen again, not this time.

You had got to the airport maybe an hour ago, he was there to meet you just like every other time. Now, you were sitting on his sofa, legs crossed as you rested your head on his shoulder, some documentary playing on the tv. A lot of the time you spent together was like this — just enjoying one another’s presence while you had it.

Spencer arm was over your shoulder, his fingertips drawing soft shapes on your arms which left goosebumps in their trail, their movements never faltered.

“Hey” He said gently, as if not wanting to break the comfortable silence that surrounded the two of you. You turned your head, still rested on his shoulder but now looking up at him.

“Hello” You said back, the same soft tone, the corner of your lips tugged upwards into a smile. Your eyes held his gaze, your stomach full of something so familiar. Something you felt every time he was around you— Anytime you heard his voice. Comfort, warmth, safety. All of the same sort.

He smiled back, then as if he couldn’t help it his head lent down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, only causing your smile to widen. He pulled away to reposition slightly so he could look at your face better. “I wanna take you out” He said gently.

You hummed, eyebrow raising a little in curiosity. It wasn’t that you and Spencer didn’t go on dates, you did. Bookstore, library, cafe, flower shop, bakery’s. All the soft romantic things you both adored to do together, although by the way he spoke you assumed he had something different in mind.

“Do you?” You teased lightly.

He nodded, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your lips before pulling back, your cheeks flushed at the motion. He did that a lot, the small soft kisses as if it was just habit. You adored those.

“I do. Tonight, is that okay with you?”

He asked, and you smiled.

A soft nod came, before you were speaking. “I didn’t- I don’t have anything nice to wear” You mumbled gently. You packed everything comfortable, you had nice things, but not like extremely nice, nothing fancy.

He shook his head gently, free arm that wasn’t wrapped around your shoulder coming up to brush gentle hairs away from your forehead. “Thats okay, We can get you something, or we can go in pyjamas, make a statement” He mumbled out, a playful smile on his lips as his forehead bumped yours gently.

You let out a soft laugh, nodding in agreement. The same playful smile on your lips mirroring his. Your forehead came to nudge his back. “Mm, don’t hate me” You hummed, smiling gently. His head tilted in curiosity of what you were going to say.

“I didn’t pack pyjamas.” You admitted, the last few times you had been here you ended up wearing one of Spencer’s shirts to bed anyways, so you ultimately decided this time there was no point even bringing your own.

He smiled, knowingly, understanding why you didn’t, but then he huffed out playfully, tsking gently as he shook his head. “You had one job, one. job.” He mumbled, faux disappointment lacing his tone only making your smile widen.

“Whoops?” You suggested, shrugging your shoulders.

He let out a snort at your half assed fake guilt, his hands came down to grip your waist, his fingers digging into the sides of your skin making you squeal gently and squirm under his touch. Your hands came down to grip his wrists, trying to tug them away from your side.

After a moment, he gave in, letting you push his hands away, to which you instead interlaced your fingers, holding them up in front of you. “I hate when you do that” You huffed out. You did partly, but not enough to actually be upset about it.

He raised his eyebrow, squeezing your hand gently. “Do you now?” He asked. You rolled your eyes, nodding. He knew it, you knew he did because you told him every-time he did it. For some reason he just enjoyed making you squirm, watching you get frustrated for a total of three seconds before it all turned playful again.

“You know I do” You muttered. You turned slightly so you were facing him, your gaze held his and any doubt you could possibly have washed away just by the look of love and admiration in his eyes.

“Okay, I wont do it again” He said softly, his hands pulled away from yours to instead gently cradle your jaw in his hands, leaning down to place another gentle kiss on your lips.

You knew he would do it again, and you were okay with that.

Spencer realised he had made a mistake. A big mistake.

Buying you a dress, wasn’t the mistake but thinking his thoughts would stay innocent when seeing you in it was. He had let you pick out whatever dress you wanted, insisting on paying for it, he let it remain a surprise. Keeping his gaze away as you used his card to pay for it until it was hidden away in a bag.

Now, seeing you standing in his bathroom, the dress on, your hair falling perfectly to frame your face and your smile. He was having a hard time focusing. He leant against the door frame as he watched you fix your hair.

He wondered if it was possible for you to be any more perfect.

Then you made eye contact with him in the mirror and raised your hand to wave gently, and he decided it was.

The entire night was perfect, any time with you was, but tonight it was exactly what he wanted it to be. The place the two of you went to was fancy but not extreme, the two of you ate and joked throughout the entire time and Spencer knew he was in love with you.

He had always known that, but the words begged to leave his lips more then ever when you were sitting in the passenger seat in his car, using a plastic water bottle as a microphone as you sung out the song playing on the radio as he drove the two of you back to his place.

At a red light, he turned to look at you. You were busy peeling off the wrapper around the water bottle to notice, a small thing that made his heart warm. His gaze dropped down to your thigh, one his hands moving to rest on top of it, then his eyes were stuck on the way it had ridden up your thigh as you were sitting and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

His hand rested against your thigh innocently, although his thumb moved to tuck under the hem of your dress slightly, rubbing the skin there soothingly. Your eyes moved from the bottle to his hand, then to his face.

He had turned back to the road now, when the light had gone green, he could see you looking at him in his peripheral. He was trying to remain calm but he felt as if the car temperature increase massively in seconds.

“You’re pretty” You mumbled out and he knew he was done.

His gaze flicked from the road to your face. A smile on his lips as his heart hammered in his chest. He wondered if maybe he should pull over because he was struggling to pull his eyes away from your face.

“You’re pretty.” He said back, his gaze flicking back to the road as he turned down the street his house was on, thankful in a few seconds he would no longer have to worry about crashing the car because he was too focused on you.

You hummed, scrunching up your nose slightly at his compliment. He was pulling into his driveway and you were turning your body to face him in the passenger seat. “Im serious. You are really pretty.”

He smiled as he put the car in park, he undid his seatbelt before mirroring your actions turning to face you. “Im serious too. You are also really pretty.” He said in the same tone as you, before he was leaning in to press his lips against yours. His hand left your thigh to instead rest against your jaw, fingertips curling into your hair.

You hummed into the kiss, your hands coming to either side of his neck. Your heart burst at the feeling of his lips warm and gentle against yours the feeling of his cool hands pressing against your warm cheeks.

Your hand left his neck in order to undo your seatbelt, and reposition slightly so you could lean in closer while still not breaking the kiss. One of his hands trailed from your jaw to the back of your head, cradling it as his fingers tangled in your hair, encouraging you closer to him.

After a moment, his lips pulled away from yours but he stayed close, hands remaining in place and his forehead rested against yours as he spoke almost breathlessly, in a way that made your heart beat quicken. “We- We should go inside.” He said.

You nodded, “We should.” You said in the same breathless tone. He stayed in place for a moment just looking into your eyes before he nodded again, pulling back in order to open the car door.

Then he was out, walking around to open the door for you. You smiled as you took his hand, he closed the door once you were out and his hands then moved to your waist, staying close behind you as the two of you walked to the door.

He huffed out when he had to pull his hand away in order to pull his keys out of his pocket, his chest pressed against your back as he leant in to unlock the door after fumbling to find the right key for a moment. His hand moved to press against your stomach as he did so, holding you close against him.

When you were inside he loosened his grip slightly, walking to the kitchen he freed his pockets of his wallet and phone, and keys, he left them all on the kitchen counter before his eyes looked back at you.

You were wandering towards his bedroom, he smiled at the sight before he was following you. He walked fast in order to catch up, hands gripping your hips making you jump in shock, you turned your head to look at him.

“That was mean- Don’t do that” You huffed out, he grinned, his hand moving from your hip to the side of your cheek in order to turn your face more towards him, then he was kissing you again.

You allowed it for a moment, before your neck began to cramp at the uncomfortable positioning. You turned so you were facing him, chest pressed against his as your hands came to rest on either side of his jawline.

His hand pressed against the small of your back, holding you against him while his other hand, re-tangled in your hair. Then his feet were stumbling toward and yours back as he led you both blindly to his bedroom. His hand left your back to push the door open.

His tongue pressed against your bottom lip searching for entrance, your lips parted as his hands moved to press against the back of your thigh, your arms moved to wrap around your neck.

His lips left for a moment, but stayed close so you could feel them moving as he spoke quietly and breathlessly, “You’re so beautiful” He said as his fingers dug into the skin of your thighs, pulling you upwards so he was holding you, your legs wrapping around his torso.

You hummed and then leant back in to press your lips against his again, this time there was no build up, it was instantly more messy than it had been any other time, desperate, yet soft.

He walked to the bed, not breaking the kiss as his tongue mapped out your mouth, as if trying to memorise it. He got on his knees on the soft foam of the mattress, laying you down on your back, lips never leaving yours as his hands came to rest on either side of your head, cradling you in.

Normally, this is where the two of you would stop. Any other time he would roll off and make a comment or offer to put on a movie, read to you, make you coffee or something. Yet his lips stayed against yours as he remained on his knees in between your thighs that had remained parted once he laid you down.

His hands trailed down to your shoulder, his fingertips brushing against the strap of your dress softly so it draped down the curve of your shoulder. He pulled away, leaning back to look at your face.

His eyes trailed down every feature, the way your lips had gone slightly puffy and red from the kiss, the way your cheeks were flush, hair a mess, eyes lidded, it made his heartbeat increase.

“Is this okay?” He asked, voice quiet and husky in a way that made your stomach swell with nerves. His fingertips brushed over the empty space of your collarbone and shoulder where the strap had fallen from.

You nodded, looking up at him. He smiled gently and leant down to press a trail of gentle kiss down your jaw, then he moved down your neck, his hand moving to the other strap of your dress, pushing it down your shoulder.

“Spencer” You mumbled out, looking down at him as his kisses trailed down to your collarbone, hand coming to rest on either side of your waist. He looked up at you through his lashes and you swore your heart stopped.

He looked at you, his lips pressed against your skin, you felt his breath as he mumbled out a gentle ‘Mhm?’ In response.

You were at a loss for words honestly, eyebrows furrowed in deep focus, this was new, with Spencer it was new. You hadn’t had sex, you hadn’t gone past making out, you hadn’t even really talked about it.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, you did. You were just nervous.

He noticed your silence and pulled away to sit up, looking down at you. You instantly missed the feeling of his lips on your skin and the close proximity of his body against yours. His fingers ran gently down the side of your waist as his eyes stayed trained on your face, searching for what had you so choked up.

“We can stop.” He said gently, he wanted you to be comfortable and the last thing he would ever want you to do is feel pushed or pressured into doing something you didn’t want to do. You shook your head.

You didn’t want to stop, actually you really wanted to keep going.

“I still have my shoes on” You stated quietly. instead. He paused for a moment, before he let out a gentle laugh, nodding his head as he shuffled away in order to take off your shoes for you.

“You still have a lot on” He mumbled out under his breath but you caught it and it made your cheeks warm. You perched yourself up onto your elbow to watch him as he pulled your shoes off your feet, dropping them at the end of the bed before kicking off his own.

Then he was pulling his suit jacket off, and undoing the first few buttons of the white dress shirt he had been wearing before he was leaning back up to press another gentle kiss on your lips.

“You’re quiet” He said, taking note of it. You shrugged your shoulders. You were nervous, you had a lot going through your head and that mixed with his hands on your body and the sight of him made you rather nervous and a little light headed.

You looked up at him, “Is that bad?” You asked. It wasn’t that you hadn’t had sex before, you had, just not.. Good sex. It was with a guy you dated for a short while who had very little care for anything other than his own pleasure, and before that when you were freshly 18 and graduating.

Neither were very good.

He hummed, leaning up to brush hair away from your face. “You tell me, sweet girl. You okay?” He asked. He wanted you comfortable, feeling good, if you weren’t then there was no point in doing it.

You nodded again, “Im okay- Not a bad thing.” You said, leaning up to press your lips against his. He smiled into the kiss before pulling away. He moved down to rest on his heels between your thighs.

You watched him, “Can we take this off?” He asked as his finger tips hooked under the hem of your dress. You nodded again, he smiled and lowered himself a little to press a soft kiss against your stomach over the fabric of the dress before his hands bunched the ends of it to pull it up over your stomach, then you were tugging your arms out of the straps and sitting up as Spencer pulled it off over your head.

His eyes trailed over your body and you swore the house had gotten too warm. Your head was spinning as you watched his face, his eyes as they trailed over every aspect of you.

“You’re- My gosh. You’re beautiful, you are so beautiful” He mumbled, it seemed like it was more to himself than it was to you but it made you smile and feel a little less revealed.

“My socks are still on.” You said, uncomfortably away of everything touching you at the moment, the way the bedsheets felt under your back, the way your undergarments sat almost uncomfortably uncovered, the only thing seemly comfortable was Spencers hands.

He was the one to nod this time, he leant down to rest on his stomach in between your thighs, pressing gentle kiss to the plush skin of your thighs as his hands rested over them, rubbing softly over the skin. “I know” He mumbled out against the skin of your thigh.

You huffed, leaning back up on your elbows in order to look at him. “Isn’t it like a thing? That people don’t have socks on during sex” You mumbled the thing you had heard around, you couldn’t pin point where you had heard it from but you knew it was talked about.

He hummed, trailing soft kisses against your thigh, hands pushing them gently more apart. “Would you like me to take them off” He asked, voice muffled against your skin, you huffed.

“I don’t know. Why haven’t you?” You asked, wondering if there was a specific reason for him removing every other aspect of your clothing, besides your underwear, and just leaving your socks on.

He hooked his finger under the hemming of your underwear, his eyes flickering away as he looked up at you, eyes silently asking for consent to take them off. You nodded gently.

He placed another kiss to your thigh before he was pulling your underwear down. “Studies have shown that wearing socks during sex can help with better orgasms. Cause of your blood circulation” He mumbled out softly as he tapped your knee, you lifted your legs up so he could pull your underwear the rest of the way off before tossing them somewhere in the room, your legs returning spread around him.

“Really?” You asked gently, voice hitching as his hand came to rest against your inner thigh, pushing it open a little more to allow him better access. He hummed and nodded.

His fingers brushed gently over where you needed him the most, his focus completely on you and making you feel good as his fingers rubbed gently over the wet folds. He relished in the way you breath hitched.

“When your feet are cold, your body signals a fight or flight response, it sends the blood to your feet rather than anywhere else. When your body is warm-” His thumb moved to rub soft circles over your clit, his eyes flicking upwards to search for your search. A soft smile on his face when he watched your lips part and your eyes flutter shut.

“When your body is warm, you are instantly more relaxed and more comfortable, your feet are always gonna get cold first, so if they are warm, chances are the rest of your body will be warm as well. Then you get more blood flow where you need it, right here” He mumbled out, one finger presses gently and slowly into you making your eyes squeeze shut and your legs threaten to close.

He let out a soft laugh, pushing your thighs to remain open. “That feel good?” He asked, almost teasing you. You opened your eyes to glare at him, making him only laugh again.

“You don’t have your socks on.” You pointed out, breath shaky as you spoke, his finger moving slowly eyes focused on your face and every little reaction.

He nodded, “I don’t think I’m gonna have any issue.” He smiled. You let out a breathy laugh and smiled back before he pressed a second finger into you.

“Y-You think I will?” You asked, voice wavering as you tried to continue the conversation but honestly your mind was fading in and out of focus as you felt yourself clench around Spencer’s fingers.

He shook his head, leaning down to press a kiss against your thigh. “No, I am pretty confident” He mumbled out, a teasing smile on his lips as his fingers curled, a soft sound leaving your lips at the feeling. He only grinned wider. “But I don’t wanna take any chances. If it helps, then it helps, if it doesn’t then it doesn’t. Just want you to feel as good as possible.” He said gently, his fingers pumping up into you.

You hummed, moving off your elbow to rest on your back. Your eyes fluttered closed as a soft moan passed through your lips when you felt his fingers curl upwards against your g spot. He realised pretty quickly and continued his movements hitting that spot.

“Are you okay?” He checked in again, as his thumb came up to nudge your clit again, his fingers still curling against you. You hummed out in response as your back lifted slightly off the bed. He let out a soft laugh, pressing a gentle kiss to your stomach.

“I was thinking about getting a cat” You huffed out. You knew it was probably the worst time to bring it up but the way your body was tensing as the knot in your stomach tightened it made you feel like you needed to relax your mind a little, and there was no better way to do that then to talk as if Spencer’s weren’t curling inside you.

He snorted as he looked up at you. “Have you now?” He understood the need to deflect. He was smart enough to know when things got intense in your body, calming your mind was helpful.

You let out a soft ‘mhm’ Followed by a small sound. “I wanna name it teddy.” You huffed out, chest rising and falling heavily as the tension in your stomach built, you could feel it in your thighs.

He smiled, “I cannot believe you are talking to me about cats when I am fingering you.” He mumbled out, his tone teasing and playful as the speed of his fingers increased.

You cringed at his words, “Thats so graphic Spence. Don’t say it like that” You huffed, squirming slightly as the pressure rose between your legs, you clenched subconsciously around Spencer’s fingers. His thumb flicked your clit gently, a playful grin on his lips as he watched you gasp.

“Sorry. How else would you like me to describe whats happening here?” He mumbled gently as he leant down to kiss your inner thigh, the pace of his fingers increasing the tighter you clenched around him, he could tell you were getting closer and he was making it his prime goal to get you there while keeping your pretty mind relaxed, even if that meant talking about cats.

You hummed, a gentle moan rolling off your lips. “Just- Don’t” You huffed, as your back arched in order to press yourself further against him. His fingers curled as your thighs got tense and begged to close, he had to hold them open.

He smiled. His focus now on making you finish. His fingers curled over your g spot repeatedly while his thumb moved against your clit, in circular motions.

“Spence.” You mumbled his name breathlessly, almost like a warning and his understood instantly, he continued his movements before he heard you moan, and then you clenched around him and gushed over his fingers.

He continued his movements a little slowly throughout your orgasm, enough to keep you going without overwhelming or overstimulating you. He pressed an abundance of gentle kisses against your thigh as you tried to catch your breath.

After a moment, his fingers pulled out of you. He kissed up your stomach. “Are you okay?” He asked again. Eyes trailing over your face, cheeks red and eyes closed, soft harsh breaths left your parted lips. You looked beautiful and Spencer wanted to tell you that a million times and more.

“Yes.” You exhaled, peeling your eyes open to look at him, “Thank you.” You mumbled, leaning up. He smiled and met you half way in order to press a gentle kiss against your lips before pulling back.

“Im gonna go get a rag okay, clean you up.” He mumbled out gently into your ear. You nodded half processing his words, your mind a bit of a mess as your focus was purely set on calming yourself down.

When you felt him leave the bed, you looked at him. “Wait.” You mumbled out, lifting yourself to sit up a little. He turned to face you, eyes trailing over your face to search for any indication that maybe something was wrong.

“Whats up sweetheart?”

You huffed out, looking up at him. There was a sort of blissed out expression on your face. “I love you” You said. You didn’t give yourself a chance to overthink it. You loved him, whether he loved you back yet or not. You loved him and you wanted him to know.

His features softened, a soft smile on his lips as your words settled in. His heart hammered against his ribcage. Acutely aware of everything; yet only focused on you.

“I love you.” He replied in the same sort of tone, certain, no question about it.

You smiled, “Okay- You can go now” You mumbled, laying back in bed now allowing him to go get a cloth to clean you up, you knew you’d have to get up to pee in a minute, but you figured that could wait.

He snorted, “Thanks for your permission” He smiled, You nodded, closing your eyes as a gentle exhale left your mouth.

He loved you. You loved him, you never wanted that to change and you didn’t believe it ever could.

[coconut-dreamz]

king of my heart

"the taste of your lips is my idea of luxury" || tom blyth x singer!reader

a/n: inspired by ts once again !!!

i'm perfectly fine, i live on my own i made up my mind, i'm better off bein' alone

you had spent the last few years being single and throwing yourself into your work. that was evident through the sheer amount of music you'd made in the last five years and the world tours you'd gone on.

after your messy break up a few years ago, you'd sworn off love and relationships lately. though, they did make great inspiration for music. but throwing yourself into your work for the past three years had consequences. you were feeling burnt out after your latest world tour and your manager had strongly urged you to take a break for awhile. not to mention you were in a rut. you hadn't wrote a single song in months. nothing inspired you, all of the songs you tried to write sounded wrong. 

we met a few weeks ago now you try on callin' me, baby, like tryin' on clothes

rachel was a good friend of yours, you had met on at a red carpet once and became fast friends. she had recently finished up filming for a project and was in new york. she wanted to meet up with you and introduce you to her cast mates. 

that's when you met tom. there was an instant attraction between you two, there was no doubt about it. everyone in the room could feel it. tom, luckily, also lived in new york. but he lived in brooklyn while you lived in manhattan. but he was constantly calling you, asking you to meet up or come over and hang out. nearly every day he was free he'd call you up. 

salute to me, i'm your american queen and you move to me like i'm a motown beat and we rule the kingdom inside my room

you two were just hanging out in your bedroom, listening to your vinyl records. stand by me started playing, softly filling the room. "dance with me," tom stands, offering his hand to you. you just smile and agree, standing up. his arm snakes around your waist as your hand makes its way to his shoulder. you lay your head on his chest as you two sway to the music.

"this is nice," you whisper out as the song ends. "i like spending time with you. hours feel like minutes here," he responds as he spins you around, causing you to erupt in giggles at his antics. you continue to dance around the room until the sun sets behind you, lost in your own world with tom. when you were with him, everything else melted into the background. it was like the only thing in focus was tom. 

'cause all the boys and their expensive cars with their range rovers and their jaguars never took me quite where you do

you had reluctantly agreed to a date with someone one of your model friends had set you up with. he picked you up from your apartment in his flashy car, drawing attention to you two from everyone around you. you weren't quite used to all this attention, you had been a lot more private in recent years. 

the date was absolutely terrible. he took you to some upscale restaurant that served expensive dishes that were only 1-2 bites each. as he drove you back to your place, all you could think of was how you wish you'd just stayed home and gotten take out with tom. you'd be a lot less hungry and a lot more happy if you'd done so.

after being dropped off, you texted gigi that you're never letting her set you up again. after texting her, you called tom. he picked up almost immediately, as if he was waiting for you. "that was the worst date ever!" you shout, once the call connects. all you hear is his melodic laugh in response. "i wish i would've just stayed home and gotten take out. i'm starving. the restaurant we went to didn't fill me at all!”

"how about i come over and pick up something up on the way there? we can watch a movie or two and you can tell me more about how much of a disaster it was." you smile at his suggestion. "that sounds great, i'll see you soon?" you answer, happily. "see you soon, love." he hangs up. you smile, couldn't wait.

and all at once, you are the one i have been waiting for king of my heart, body and soul

being with tom felt easy. you didn't realize it at first, but then all of a sudden he was embedded in every part of your life. being with him was as easy as breathing. it came naturally to the two of you. he had somehow snuck in and captured your heart. 

"i love you," you whisper out as the two of you stare up at the stars. you'd decided to go on a camping trip upstate. you were laying on a blanket, cuddling. it just felt right with him. nothing was ever forced. it was simple. 

tom sits up abruptly at your words, looking into your eyes "do you mean it?" he asks, unsure. "you're the king of my heart, body and soul." you state, staring back at him. a huge grin making its way onto his face. "i love you, i have for awhile. i was just too scared to say it first. i wasn't sure if you felt the same." he admits, a little shy. 

"you are my everything. there's nothing i wouldn't do for you." you admit to him, leaning in and placing a delicate kiss on his lips. you feel him smile into the kiss as he deepens it, pushing you to lay on the blanket and crawling on top of you. 

late in the night, the city's asleep your love is a secret i'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep

"shhh, don't be so loud! it's like 3am." you whisper shout at tom as you two walk through london. it was a stunning city, even more so with him by your side. "i love this woman!!!! i'm so glad she's mine!!!" he shouts into the open air, spinning in circles and laughing. his silliness causes you to laugh at him, playfully slapping him on the chest, trying to get him to shut up. 

tomorrow was the world premiere of the ballad of songbirds and snakes. you were so excited for him and the rest of the cast, but there was a selfish part of you that wanted to keep him to yourself. you didn't want him to become the internet's boyfriend or the 'white boy of the month'. you wanted to keep your love a secret from the world.

you wanted to shield the budding love from the cruelty of not only the world, but the tabloids. the press had ruined your previous relationships, breaking the trust you'd previously shared because of false rumors and speculations. you know tom wasn't like that, but you didn't want to be proved wrong. you just wanted to hold onto this secret for a little longer.

change my priorities the taste of your lips is my idea of luxury

some people may have labeled you as materialistic in the past, your countless new shoes and outfits adding fuel to the fire. but, as of late, your priorities had changed. you no longer cared for material goods, the only thing you desired was tom. everything about tom, you wanted. his hugs, his kisses, and especially his love for you. his love would be worth more than anything money could buy you. 

is this the end of all the endings? my broken bones are mending with all these nights we're spending

shortly after meeting tom, you were reinvigorated. he was your muse. he mended your heart and gave you inspiration to write once again. no longer were you writing sad songs about ended relationships, but songs confessing your love to him. by the time you had known him for six months, you'd already written enough songs for two 20 song albums and a few extra for deluxe editions.

the more time you spent with him, the more songs you were inspired to write because of him. your agent had wanted to kiss him on the mouth personally for the amount of songs he had inspired you to write after over a year of nothing. your fans would be thrilled to hear you'd be releasing new music after three years of nothing.

"what are you doing there, darling?" tom walks into your office as you play around on the piano and write down the notes you were playing. "just composing a new song. i was inspired during our date last night. i just finished writing the lyrics and now i'm trying to come up with the melody." you answer him, not looking up from the notebook. his eyes widen at your words. "you wrote the lyrics already?" he asks surprised. 

you look up from you notebook at this "of course i did, you're my muse. i've completed two albums dedicated to you now." you answer him and continue playing, trying to find the right notes. "you what?" he asks, unaware of his influence on your creativity. you stop playing at this and stand up to face him. "from the moment i have met you, i have written and composed exactly 47 and a half songs. you are my muse, tom blyth. you occupy my mind at all times. i love you" you confess to him with a grin. "my god, i love you." he captures your lips in a searing kiss. he truly was the king of your heart.

[c0kitty]

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 ....  𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 w/ bakugo katsuki x gn!reader              « 0:00 ─〇───── 0:00 ⇄                             

summary: two times you crocheted katsuki something + one time katsuki realizes something so painfully obvious. (⛦) content: fluff! kissing. reader tears up. reader crochets. comfort!! love confession. sickeningly sweet. i'm a lil bad at summaries. gn pretty sure. (⛦) w/c: 1.6k+

i. your first project, 

the first time you’d crochet him something,  it was a pretty shitty day for katsuki. he had spent a little more than an hour meeting with his friends who, in the most kindest words, were spawns of satan. the constant teasing left him a little drained, the food he left in the dorm fridge was gone, and he was left with a headache throbbing at his temples.

to add on, he hadn’t seen you all day.

so, he goes to your dorm, finding it already open. something he’d always given you mouth on. (what if a stranger comes through? even if it was a little impossible with the amount of security that roamed the halls.) inside, he pauses at the entrance, finding you sitting on your bed, holding a long slender stick with a hook at the tip.

it looked like a miniature murder weapon. “... what the hell is that?” 

seemingly startled, he guesses by the reaction of your eyebrows shooting up to your hairline, widened eyes, and a small gasp that left your lips. “fuck me, why the hell are you so silent.”

“hello to you too, princess,” katsuki sarcastically remarks, stepping further into the room. he comes closer til’ he was just about hovering over you.

you pick back up whatever the hell was in your hand. you could still feel his stare, which you quip. “it’s crocheting, tsuki’. i’m trying to pick up a hobby to get off my phone more. its kinda fun.”

katsuki grunts as a reply, moving to sit next to you. it causes the mattress to slightly sink to his weight, whilst he goes to take off his shoes, methodically, all while watching you. 

with your teeth catching your bottom lip, you looked so focused, engrossed, not paying a mind to him. his gaze eventually drifts towards what was hanging from the stick. it’s long and narrow, with a soft-looking material, colored a deep-shade of red, and black. it was a scarf.

it’s edges weren't perfect, a little bumpy and not entirely straight, but it still looked pretty damn good. his crimson eye’s go to meet yours, but he finds you already looking at him. “i was gonna make it a surprise. but i made it for you.”

a nervous smile plays at your lips, “do you like it?” 

nobody has ever really taken the time to create something personal for him — the warmth in his chest, made him just want to crumble, n kiss your pretty lips. it was nothing short of perfect, even the imperfections.

he'd forgotten you were waiting for an answer and a flicker of insecurity hints in your eyes, your words hanging in the air. 

but, he quickly reassures you, his hand traveling,  holding at your chin. “it's perfect, okay?” drawing nearer to you, he presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “perciate’ you so much baby.”

ii. just for him,

it starts to become a thing every other week. you would crochet him a piece – either something that fit his, in your words, “grunge” style, or something from the colorful yarn leftover from your old projects. and regardless, he would proudly wear it.

over time, people start to notice. seeing him wear a cute black cat beanie was a little out of the norm for him. and the following week, he would wear the same-stitch, fingerless mittens. everyone knew he wouldn’t buy those by choice. someone had to be giving it to him, someone he cared about. someone, like his girlfriend.

being in a school full of smart heroes had its many downsides.

people start to ask, or he would say, "harass you," to make them things. it starts to piss him off after a while — hearing your continuous no’s, and then them trying to ask again like your answer was gonna change after a minute. plus, it’s not like any of those broke assholes were willing to pay, they were just planning to mooch off you.

and, maybe there was a selfish reason for it.

he didn’t want you to share something you were so passionate about with people you gave no shits about, or lov–  liked. because it would lose its value — lose the stupid special feeling he got.

this surge of events eventually leads to him cursin’ them out for you, because you were just a little too nice to yell, give murderous glares, or deliver creative death threats. which after, they wisely never approach you about it again.

iii. your last gift, for the year of course,

its a cold new year, katsuki watches as a snowflake falls delicately onto your nose. you guys were huddled on the balcony of his parent’s home, thanks to his mom's desperation, and persistence to meet you. and to his embarrassment, his mom and you got along very well, so well in fact you guys exchanged numbers, planning to meet with each other without katsuki himself.

despite his loud protests, you’d forcibly ushered him out in the shitty-ass cold because you wanted to see the snow.  the frigid air embraced you both, his breath left white in the air. katuski’s body pressed the balcony handle, you’d positioned yourself in front of him, his arms encircled your body, his hands holding at your waist.

“you happy princess? m’ freezing here just for you to see the same old snow we see every year.” he complains, even though his crimson-red eyes held warmth, ones that matched your growing smile. you raise your heel pressing a short kiss at the corner of his lips, before retreating. 

“quit being dramatic; it’s so beautiful out here.” you insisted, before your eyes widened, like you’d remembered something, and abruptly, you leave an inch of space between the two of you, reaching for something in your puffer jacket.

there’s a slight furrow to his brows, not understanding why you had to pull away — leaving you out of his grasp. til he puts it together, as you pull out a terribly wrapped item, a gift.

“i told you we didn't have to give each other anything.” 

“yeah, like the $100 dollar gift you gave me today. see, i knew you would do that so i came prepared.” you say, pointing an accusatory finger. 

“now open.” you shove the present in katsuki’s hand, and shaking his head in disbelief, he grabs it, tearing the wrapping off. 

“i know i already made you one. but i saw how … worn out it was.” 

holded in his rough hands, was a scarf. reminiscent of the colors to the one you gave him months ago — the one he had worn all the damn time, sometimes even in the hottest of weather. with how much time he wore it, after a while, the color of that scarf started to fade, with the yarn unraveling.

“here let me put it on for you.” you take it from his hands, draping it around his neck. you watch as he glances down, just admiring it. “looks so pretty, baby.”

this scarf looked more intricate, with the stitch pattern on the scarf resembling daisy blooms. he’d noticed how your crochet skills seemed to improve, the scarf had a cleaner, straighter edge than the other one. 

and for some reason, as he looks down at your gift, a flood of memories of the moments with you, seem to be all rushing to him — your sweet, drawn kisses, the stupid arguments, and your laughter that seemed to always ring in his ears.

moments like those, that laid ahead for the both of you, made him want to look forward to the future, your guys’s future. to wake up next to you, morning breath n’ all, to lazily lounge on the couch and havin’ to forcibly cuddle because of you, to possibly sharing each other's last name. it all swelled katuski’s stupid heart. 

it was so obvious why. with your soft gaze on him.

“i love you.” he blurts out, his eyes fixed at your parted lips.  

“i love you so damn much, it’s so fucking stupid. you turn me into a sap, y’know. everytime i look at you i just can't help but want to smile, want to hold you. everything I do, every thought that crosses my mind, somehow, it goes back to you. …i ” he sighs, his bravado faltering for a moment, red eye’s averting from yours. 

“you don't have to say it back, i just wanted to tell you.” katsuki grumbles, the tips of his ears red as it can be, as he does his best to maintain his ‘i could care less’ facade.

“look at me.” and katsuki does, he’s met with your glistening eyes, stars reflecting. “i love you too, you idiot.”

he couldn’t help but release a soft, incredulous laugh — he was really rubbing off on you. somehow the space between the two of you closes again, your hands fit in his warm jacket. tightly hugging him, as if he was going to leave any second.

“and of course, you had to one up me with a grand ass speech.” you relent, looking up at him, a small pout forming over your features.

“m’ always two-steps ahead. catch up princess.” he replies, a smug smile spreading across his plush lips. his mittened hand moving to hold at your face, thumb brushing along your cheek.

his eyes flicker to your lips, watching as your tongue glides against it. “... can, i?” your lashes flutter at him, weakly nodding. and then your being kissed, slowly, and sweetly. his tongue brushing your bottom lip, savoring you, savoring this moment.  

[gojonish]

first meetings || ᵗᵃᵏᵃˢʰⁱ ᵐⁱᵗˢᵘʸᵃ

how you and mitsuya met

pairing: takashi mitsuya x fem!reader

content: fluff, lowercase intended, one curse word, idk how old mana and luna are but pretend they're like four here, i'm not a big fan of how i wrote this ngl

note: as y'all can see, i am still in my mitsuya arc teehee

mitsuya didn't believe in soulmates.

he believed love was overrated. especially when seeing takemitchy and hinata be all lovey-dubey, it made him realize how cringy dating can be. besides, he was too busy with toman and his sisters to even think about love. he knew there was a time for it, but he didn't think now.

well, at least until he met you. he still remembers that day like it was yesterday.

~~

it was a sunny day, a little too hot for mitsuya's liking. he decided to take his sisters out to the playground near their house since they had been begging him for days now. he eventually complied, bringing along his sketchbook and pen to draw while his sisters played.

after a while, mitsuya noticed it was getting dark. did time really fly that fast? he looked up from his sketchbook to see his sisters-

where were his sisters?

he could've sworn they were playing on the swings just a minute ago- where could they have gone in such a short amount of time?

mitsuya looked everywhere in the park: the playground, the skatepark, the soccer field- but his sisters were nowhere to be found. he kept calling out their names, but there was no response.

he spent a good two hours looking for luna and mana but unfortunately, he couldn't find them. he sat on the stairs of his house, his head in his arms and tears threatening to leave his eyes. he was panicking now, hesitating to call the cops.

then he heard it.

"takashi!"

mitsuya looked up to see his two sisters running toward him, both with joyful tears in their eyes. they tackled him to the ground and hugged him, happy to be reunited with their brother.

"we're sorry for running away!" luna sobbed.

"yeah, we won't do it again!" mana cried.

mitsuya was so relieved, he thought he was hallucinating. tears streamed down his cheeks and he smiled softly, "it's okay, don't do it again, you little monsters.”

unbeknownst to the grey-haired teen, you were awkwardly standing in front of him, your hand rubbing the back of your neck nervously. that's their brother? he's so hot!

you didn't expect your shopping spree to be interrupted by two little girls asking for your help to find their brother. after many attempts on trying to ask what their brother looked like through their loud sobs, you decided to just walk them around the city until they calmed down.

after they finally eased up (which took almost an hour) you were finally able to ask them where they had come from which they replied with the park. they somehow led you to their house, which resulted in you being in this awkward situation.

the brother was cute, he had piercings and a grey mullet reaching down to his neck. he looked about your age, maybe older, but you weren't completely sure. he had a cute smile, one that made your cheeks heat up quickly.

after about three minutes, the family broke off their embrace. the two sisters lightened up when they saw you and tried to get their brother's attention on you.

"takashi! this pretty lady helped us find you!" mana said, holding you hand and jumping excitingly.

"yeah! she even bought us ice cream to make us feel better!" luna replied, pointing at you and smiling.

mitsuya finally locked his eyes on the girl his sisters were looking at and he felt his world stop. you were so...

pretty. so, so pretty

he's never seen anyone like you. you were ethereal- not a part of this world- an enigma to anyone's eyes-

"hello?"

mitsuya was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard your heavenly voice. "i'm sorry, what were you saying?"

you chuckled, which caused his heart to beat a bit faster, "i just wanted to ask if you'll be alright? i know you must’ve been worried about your sisters.”

mitsuya blinked, "oh, yes! i'll be great- amazing even! thank you for bringing them back.”

"of course, they were so sweet," you smiled and then breathed out, "well, i guess i'll be on my way then."

mitsuya didn't want you to leave, not yet. he didn't even get your name!

"wait!" he called out as you turned away, "would you like to stay for dinner? after that i can walk you home."

you chuckled nervously, "no no, it's alright-"

a stomach growl coming from you interrupted your sentence.

"you know what? maybe i'll take your offer," you laughed, "i'm (l/n)."

"mitsuya, nice to meet you, (l/n)."

you smiled and followed him inside, but stopped when you saw him pause in front of the door.

"hey, can i take you out tomorrow? for lunch or something?" he asked.

"oh, what's the reason?"

"think of it as repaying for finding my sisters for me," he winked, which made your throat dry.

you chuckled, "you really don't have to-"

"i want to."

your heart was beating too fast now, "okay fine mitsuya, deal."

the rest of the night was a time with laughter, jokes, and subtle (awkward) flirting between the two potential lovebirds. the two of you became friends quite quickly and with that, mitsuya’s friends figured out his girl-crush on you quite quickly.

~~

extra!

mitsuya had recently been drawing you, just because he was so mesmerized by your beauty. he loved your reaction when he showed you the many sketches that he drew- and since your birthday was coming up, he wanted to draw a portrait of you as a present. he was currently practicing in his notebook.

mitsuya was so focused on drawing you that he didn't even notice the blonde that came up behind him.

"mitsuya, who's that you're drawing?" chifuyu asked, looking over the grey-haired boy's shoulder. "it's a girl!?"

upon hearing his voice, mitsuya shut his notebook (a little too quickly) and hid it behind his back, "she's nobody! she's just a fashion model i saw online."

"right..." chifuyu eyed him very suspiciously, but then left his area.

mitsuya let out a sigh of relief that chifuyu didn't catch onto his crush. if he had found out, then all of toman would know by now-

"guys! mitsuya has a crush on a girl and is drawing her in his sketchbook!"

oh shit.

[bethelighthalazia]

ATEEZ OT8 - Asking Y/N to move in

Summary:  ot 8 and how they ask you to move in with them

Genre: fluff

Pairing: OT8 x reader (separate drabbles)

Word Count:  n/a

Warnings: none

[ note: this is just a drabble that came to my mind last night, hope you like it! Please let me know what you guys think of this little headcanon :3 RE-UploaD from @/justsomedreaming ]

Seonghwa

You and him are cuddling on his bed, his fingers drawing patterns on your back while the two of you watch a movie. When he paused it all of a sudden, you frown, looking up at his face, confused.

“You should move in here, love.” He'd say, smiling down at a speechless you, your eyes sparkling. Then he'd resume the movie, thinking that you might need more time. Your whispered “yes please” causes him to pull you into his arms, happy that you agreed to moving in together.

Hongjoong

He'd send you a text saying ‘we have to talk, come to the studio tonight?’ and your nerves laid blank all day. The amount of clumsy accidents throughout the day is very high, because your mind is caught with Hongjoong's message. Will he break up? What did you do? 

When you arrive at his studio, you're a wreck, starting to cry and beg him to not break up with you the moment you step in and look at him. Joong is mortified, confused as to why you would think that. “Wha- no! I wanted to talk about you moving in with me!” He'd say, panicking and pulling you into his arms to calm you down. It takes almost an hour in which you switch between crying and scolding him for scaring you like this.

Yunho

He'd take you out on a date, completely with reservations at the fanciest restaurant, flowers and everything. At first, you'd wonder if you forgot a birthday or anniversary, but you couldn't think of anything like this.

After ordering your food, he'd take your hand across the table, smiling so completely in love, his eyes almost sparkling. “Y/n, my love…would you move in with me?” He'd ask, all flustered and shy, and getting out a little box with a key to the dorms, a pink ribbon attached to it. You'd act as if you have to think for a few moments, watching him squirm a bit, but then you nod and he looks like the happiest golden retriever ever.

Yeosang

You spent almost all day at his place, but now that it's evening, you're getting ready to head home. Before you could leave though, he takes your hand in his, looking a little pouty.

“I don't want you to go.” He'd mumble, almost a little whiney. “I gotta go home, Yeo. We'll see each other tomorrow again.” “No, stay please. Just make this here your home? I will give you the keys right away.” His words leave you speechless for a moment, but then you nod, kissing him. He's happy that you will move in with him.

San

Like every afternoon, you're on your way to your boyfriend San, but you stop in the doorway to his room at the sight in front of you. He's sitting on the ground, assembling a second closet and his bed is bigger.

“Sannie, what's-” “You'll need a closet and we have more space on the bed. For when you move in with me!” He'd announce happily, your hesitation making him deflate though. “You- will you move in with me?” He'd ask quietly and when you nod, he'd jump up and hug and kiss you, smiling with his stupid adorable dimples again.

Mingi

He'd be fidgety all day, nervous even, but you couldn't tell why. Mingi had thought about this for weeks now, he's happy with you, he loves you, so why would this be so hard?

In the end, he'd forget about all the things he wanted to say and just holds out a key to his place to you, looking at you with those beautifully innocent puppy eyes of his, no need for words at this moment. When you nod and kiss him gently after taking the key, he'd let out the breath he was holding in, happy and excited for you to move in with him.

Wooyoung

When you arrive at his place, you stop because you see a moving truck in front of his place. And you see him and the guys carrying stuff inside, stuff that looks like yours. 

“Jung Wooyoung, care to explain why my stuff is here?” You'd ask, causing him to freeze in place, the others looking at him surprised. They thought you knew. “Yah! You're moving in with me, jagi! I hate when you leave in the evening, so you live here now.” This man! You can't even be mad at him though, especially when he looks at you with those puppy eyes and the tiny pout. “Fine…” “yay, I love you so much, jagi!”

Jongho 

Jongho would ask you right away one day after you watched their dance practice. He'd sit down with you, smiling and taking a sip of his water before looking at you with a serious face.

“Y/n, what do you think about moving in with me?” He'd ask, calm and almost as if you're talking about the dance practice. It takes you by surprise, but the butterflies on your stomach and the blush on your face are enough to make him smile. “I- I would love that actually, Jongho.” You'd say which, to everyone's surprise, earns a happy squeak from the man. It seems like he's very happy about your answer.

taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson

(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)

[bagopucks]

Q. Hughes - Wildest Storms

✄————————————

Quinn Hughes x Fem!reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 2.3k

Warning(s): anxiety/panic attack, mentioned kidnapping, Mentioned therapy? Is that considered a trigger? I’m still learning.

—————————————

“I love you! We’ll be back around twelve, I promise!”

Quinn promised…

I never told Quinn no to anything when his team won a game. The Canucks always seemed to be struggling, and Quinn was always tense. So on the occasions when he did win, and when he felt on top of the world, I never held him back.

Some nights after a big win, Quinn would spend copious amounts of time with me. He’d come straight home and we’d sit and talk for hours, splurge in bed on snacks we shouldn’t before sleeping, or hop in a bath together to relax. My sleep schedule was never the greatest, so it was natural for me to be up past one am. Especially when Quinn was playing hockey, or out of town for a road trip.

Other nights however, Quinn would come home, change, kiss me and ask if he could go out, and then off he went.

Usually I was good with Quinn leaving and being out past midnight. He was responsible, and loyal. If he was having fun, I saw no reason to stop him. But this night in particular just seemed to be going wrong.

I’d had a therapy appointment earlier in the day. Usually they leave me tense and sometimes emotional depending on the conversational topics that are discussed. But I went to therapy for my anxiety, so each discussion was a simple reminder of all I had to worry about in my life. After my appointments, I liked to call Quinn or I would return home to rest with him for a few hours. But he had a practice that had been pushed to the middle of the day due to a bad snowstorm. By the time I got home, I assumed he was already on the ice and prepping with his team for the game this evening.

I had no lifeline but myself.. and my mind was never as helpful as it ought to be. I spent all day ruminating in my thoughts, going through the motions in a blur. The only thing to break my anxious trance had been Quinn calling to say he wouldn’t make it home before the game. I did get a bit irritated, but I tried not to let my frustrations out on him. There was nothing he could do about it anyway.

I spent my evening watching the game and eating a bowl of soup. The dark cloud of anxiety that loomed over me only thickened throughout the day, and I knew I was liable to dry heaving in the midst of anxiety or panic attacks. So I tried not to eat anything that would have been hard on my stomach.

The game was used as a distraction. And admittedly it had been a good one, until I got a text alert on my phone about a local kidnapping. They didn’t happen often, but the eerie text tone that accompanied it always made my stomach drop.

After that, I spiraled. I tried to watch the Canucks game, but my mind was hyper focused, and my senses were tuned in to every little thing in the apartment around me. The wind outside was whipping, another snowfall painting the once cleared roads with another coat of white. It was pitch black out, and pitch black in our apartment aside from the tv illuminating the living area.

A sense of dread washed over me, so heavy that I never noticed the game had been over. The Canucks had won, and it was the end of a horrible losing streak. My eyes shot toward the door when I heard the handle move, drawing in a sharp gasp as I scrambled off the couch, just in time for the door to open and a whole group of guys come barreling in. Led by my boyfriend, his hair slightly damp from a shower, dressed in the suit he’d left in around lunch.

“We won!” He sounded so happy, but my ears began ringing when everybody started shouting too, scattering about our apartment for who knows what.

“Quinn..” his name quivered off my lips, too quiet for him to hear across the room. Quinn immediately made his way over, snatching me up in a tight hug that made me feel like I was suffocating. “Quinn-“ I repeated his name in a choked out manner. As he pulled back, his smile remained. I tried to stop the shaking in my hands as I reached out to grab his arms.

“I’m gonna go out, okay?”

He promised he’d be back.

It’s past two am now, and I’m shaking in the corner of my apartment, pressed against the living room wall. I deemed it the best place to see everything in case somebody came in the door or out from behind a wall. In the bedroom I would have been cornered, same as the bathroom. The kitchen didn’t give me proper sight of the door, and the closet.. well that was just a dumb idea. My hands were resting on the floor. At first I found comfort in the chill from the wood tile, but at some point the chill was replaced by my body heat. My hands were clammy from sweat, and my heart was racing.

I felt like I was in the midst of some intense workout. My mind was racing, causing that dread to fall upon my shoulders again. The clouds of anxiety above my head had finally begun to rain. My thoughts were too heavy for them to hold any longer.

What if Quinn wasn’t okay? What if he was drunk and his friends left him alone? Oh god, what if somebody took him? What if somebody was coming to take me? I would have felt safer with Quinn around.. where was Quinn?

Heavy tears began to flow down my cheeks. I was shaking, but frozen in place. Emotional, and yet disconnected from my reality at the same time. Sounds and movements I’d once been hyper focused on, were now going unnoticed. My flight response had kicked in, but by that point, my mind had shut down too much to actually fly away. I was a mess of emotion on my living room floor. I was going to die.

The door opened for the second time that night, and I felt my heart drop. I began sobbing, shaking endlessly as that familiar turn in my stomach made me shoot off the floor. I was going to throw up. I didn’t notice Quinn sprinting across the room to grab me as I stood and collapsed directly into his arms.

“No!” I pushed against him violently, punching and flailing every limb to fight off my attacker.

Quinn held me tighter.

“Baby! Baby.. hey, everything’s okay!” Quinn could sense my distress, trying to keep my trembling body from losing its balance while he leaned his head in next to my ear.

When I heard his voice, the realization that I wasn’t being snatched up had dawned on me. I collapsed against his chest, my legs practically falling slack as I began to sob into Quinn’s body. My cries shook my own body, back rising and falling at a sporadic pace while Quinn tried to hold onto me and drag me to the couch.

“Baby..” he cooed, dropping carefully onto the couch. I fell into it with him, finding myself in his lap as he tried to situate me in a good spot. My cries never ceased, but they did quiet as Quinn stroked my back with one hand and ran the other through my hair.

“I’m right here..”

“I’m not headed anywhere.”

“This is just your anxiety,”

“You’re safe.”

“I’ll protect you.”

Quinn always knew. He never called my fears irrational or stupid, but in times when it was hard for me to differentiate normal concerns against anxious ones, he was always there to remind me. Always there to assure I wasn’t dying or having a heart attack, and that it was all my body’s response to something in my head.

“Quinn..” I whispered shakily against his chest, hearing him hum to acknowledge me.

“You’re okay, baby.” He slowly moved from beneath me, “I’ll be right back.” This caused another bit of dread to form in my gut.

“No,” I sobbed, my body leaning against the couch, helpless as I watched my boyfriend whisk away into the kitchen. He came back moments later with an ice pack and a bottle of water, which he placed on the coffee table.

“See? Im right here.” Quinn shrugged off his suit jacket, tucking a hand between my shoulder and the couch cushion to push me upright. He draped the jacket over my shoulders, leaning in to press a kiss to my head as he did so.

The warmth of the jacket was the last thing I needed, but the scent shift from my perfume to his cologne helped calm me somewhat. The tears still flowed down my cheeks, but I felt I had a slightly better grip on my surroundings.

“Take a sip?” Quinn grabbed the water bottle and twisted the cap off, tossing it into the coffee table. He sat down and held the bottle out, though when I reached for it, my hand was still shaking. A quiet cry escaped my lips at the realization that I couldn’t do something as simple as holding a water bottle.

“No worries,” he spoke softly, assuring me it was fine as he set the bottle down on the table, exchanging it for the ice pack. “We’ll just try the ice pack for now.” He slowly moved in, resting his back against the couch and gesturing for me to lean into him. I did, scooting over next to Quinn and resting my back against his arm and half of his chest. One of my hands came down to grip the thigh closest to me.

“You’re my favorite girl in the whole wide world,” Quinn whispered as he wrapped an arm around me, carefully resting the ice pack on my leg. The sensation was distracting, as was the strategic statement about me being his favorite girl. I thought his mother was.

“What’s my hockey number?” I rested my head against Quinn’s shoulder as he spoke, barely above a whisper.

“Forty three..” my voice still quivered, but it sounded more firm than before. I had a grip on pieces of my reality now.

“That was an easy one,” he teased softly in response. “Whats my favorite pair of shoes?”

I had to roll my eyes at him. “Dumbass fuzzy slippers…” I spoke. That was our ‘matching ensemble’ one Christmas. Warm, fuzzy slippers. They didn’t count as shoes in my book, but he wore them all the time around the apartment or at the lake house.

Quinn managed a quiet chuckle, the movement of his chest and the sound of his deep laugh causing another wave of anxiety to settle.

“When did we say our first I Love You’s?” Quinn moved the ice pack to my shoulder. I let out a quiet sigh, then sniffled. I carefully reached up to rub the tears from my eyes as a sad smile formed on my lips.

“When we took Tyler’s son to the aquarium..” my grip on Quinn’s thigh eased.

“And what do you remember?”

“I remember you,” I paused for another sniffle. “You couldn’t get him to walk away from the puffer fish. You tried to pick him up, and he got a little mad.” A little was a vast understatement, and we both knew it, causing us to laugh softly together.

“You wanna know what I remember?” Quinn asked, and I nodded, slowly picking my head up and turning to look at him, draping my legs over his lap.

“I remember watching you take him down the little tunnel where you could stand in the turtle enclosure. And I remember watching you pick him up and hold him on your hip.. and thinking how much I love you. And how much you’re gonna make a great mother some day.”

My heart fluttered at Quinn’s words, but this type didn’t make me panicky or anxious. I smiled at him. Quinn carefully pulled the ice pack off my shoulder, tossing it onto the couch behind me.

“And I remember saying how much I love you when you guys got back.” Quinn reached to cup my cheek in his hand. “All of you. Every single part of you.” He smiled at the sight of my own.

I leaned in to press my forehead against his own, sighing softly.

“Thank you Quinn,” relief finally flooded my voice. He pulled back slowly, nodding.

“I’m always here for you. You’re my girl, I’ll take care of you no matter what.” Quinn rested a hand on one of my knees as he leaned forward to grab the once forgotten water bottle.

“Have you eaten?” He asked, holding the bottle out. This time I took it with a steady hand.

“I had soup.. but if you pop something in the oven I might snack on it.” I could tell by the smile forming on his lips, that he knew what I wanted. A warm pizza.

“We’ll sleep in tomorrow.” Usually Quinn would suggest a nap after a panic attack, but if I didn’t eat before sleeping, I’d wake up with a headache. Another reason to be miserable.

“Put a pepperoni one in,” I spoke before taking a sip of water. Quinn rolled his eyes at me and laughed.

“Adventurous,” he teased, making me giggle softly. “Do you want to rest here, or come with me?” He slowly moved my legs from his lap.

“I’ll come with.” I sniffed again, slowly standing up with Quinn. He reached for my free hand, intertwining our fingers as we ventured into the kitchen. We spent a good few hours talking about the hockey game and other little topics over pizza. We never made it to the table though after it came out of the oven. We simply stood, leaning over the kitchen island side by side, giggling and whispering back and forth like teenagers. Only I could make Quinn act like a child, and only he could calm my wildest storms.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

[its-an-obsession]

Book Smart

Full Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist

Part Two

Request: Hey, if it's all good with you, I'd love to put in a request for a S2 Sam x-reader? Kinda of an AU, but not necessarily out of the series. They met at a library. Y/N is an eclectic reader. She just knows the most random stuff and overhears Sam and Dean arguing, where she can solve a little hole in their case? She's a lot like Dean, but more caring and emotional if that works (getting laid is not her idea of fun, however)

A/N: I'm hoping this makes sense. I was worried that the 'case' the two were working on was a little confusing. Enjoy!!

Summary: You had recently moved to a small town a few years ago. When moving, you had done an extensive amount of research on the town. That led to you spending more time at the library. One normal day at the library, you were reading a new book when you overheard an argument between two brothers, but one of the brothers caught your particular eye.

Notes:

Set in season two (brief mentions)

Y/F/O: Your Favorite Order

Warnings:

Mentions of injuries, blood, gunshots, etc

Long imagine

Sam Winchester x-reader

Y/N stood in the library, almost her second home, looking for a new book to read. She already had a couple in her arms. Y/N had been to the library so much the librarian, Jenny, knew her by name. "Just five today, Y/N?" she asked, pushing the books to herself. Y/N nodded her head. Y/N handed Jenny her library card before setting it back into her wallet.

"Do you have any more..." Y/N's sentence began.

Jenny reached beside her and pulled out a patterned reusable bag. Y/N smiled as the woman handed her the bag. "Thank you," Y/N said. She set her books into the bag and looped her arm through the strap. Y/N thanked Jenny, walking towards her usual reading spot.

She dropped her backpack on the chair beside her, putting the reusable bag on the table. Y/N took out her sticky notes and pens from her backpack. She smiled to herself as she settled in for the next few hours. Y/N usually spent a couple hours at the library after checking out a few books.

I guess checking out books and then staying at the library to read the books defeated the purpose of checking them out. But she had been to the library so many times she didn't mind hanging out there. This time, it was different. Two brothers, Sam and Dean, sat at the table a few down from hers.

They appeared to be having a heated conversation, with one boy talking over the other. She glanced over her shoulder at the two of them. One seemed to be more organized than the other, that being Sam. He sat in front of a silver laptop decorated with blue stickers.

There were a few newspaper articles scattered over the table, a brown leather notebook in front of them displaying different Supernatural beings.

Y/N smiled softly when she caught the eye of Sam. Dean smirked at the little interaction. Y/N chuckled to herself, returning her attention back to her book. The more she tried to continue reading, Y/N couldn't stop herself from listening in.

It seemed like they were trying to solve some of the murders in the town, brainstorming about ghosts or entities. "There's a pattern, Dean," Sam stated. "Okay, then what's the pattern, hmm?" Dean shot back. They went on and on for a couple more minutes. Y/N covered her giggle with a cough, flipping the page in her book.

She set a sticky note on the side of the page and wrote a little note, drawing a heart at the corner. Sam huffed and leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed. "I just can't figure it out," Sam sighed. "Figured," Dean grumbled.

"Jerk," Sam said.

"Bitch."

Y/N sighed and closed her book, partially frustrated that she wasn't getting silence, and maybe because she was interested.

After all, she had been living in the town for a while and was also curious about the mysterious deaths. Like most small towns, everyone knew everyone. She had only been living there for a couple of years but was aware of the town's history. After moving, Y/N had spent hours in the library researching the town's history.

Y/N sighed and stood up from the table. She left her books there to find the records she was thinking about. "Aha," Y/N muttered to herself, taking out a file of newspaper articles. She searched through the pages before approaching Sam and Dean.

"1976. Thomas Gates was found murdered in his living room. A hit to the head, then a stab in the chest," Y/N set the book down, "Then, in 1981, Franklin Gates Jr. and his wife, Mary Gates, were found the same way. There were a couple more after that, but then just a couple days ago, Eliza Gates was found murdered the same way."

Sam and Dean looked up at the stranger who stood beside their table. The two of them exchanged a glance, both confused. Dean smirked to himself and leaned back in the chair. "Sorry, um, I couldn't help but listen in," Y/N said. "Huh," Dean replied, sitting up in his chair. She was about to turn around but was stopped when Sam cleared his throat.

He smiled, motioning to the seat beside him. Dean watched the interaction closely, surprised that his brother had even offered her a spot. "Um, I'm Y/N, by the way," Y/N introduced. "I'm Sam, and this is Dean, my brother," Sam said, pointing to himself and then his confident brother.

Dean saluted and leaned back in his seat yet again. Y/N saluted back and opened the file to show them what might help. "You were here the other day, right?" Sam asked. Y/N glanced at him and nodded. "Yes. I'm here almost every day. You can ask Jenny," Y/N pointed behind her.

The sweet librarian sat behind the desk, eating some orange slices with a book in her lap. Her glasses sat at the bridge of her nose. Jenny looked up to send a wave after feeling their eyes. "I'm here so much that Jenny sets up a table for me," Y/N added.

Sam looked at Y/N with the same smile on his face, chuckling (GIF Above). She smiled as well, oddly feeling safe when they locked eyes. Dean cleared his throat, which broke their gaze. "So, what's this file?" he tapped the top of the paper file. Y/N sat up straight and faced him.

She pulled out a few articles. Sam leaned to the side so he could properly read them. "I heard you two talking about the murders," Y/N said, "Kind of like you were saying, you're missing a pattern. See."

"Well, I guess there's more than one pattern," Y/N said. Sam furrowed his brows. Dean sat there in silence, loving the glances between Sam and Y/N. "More than one pattern?" Dean inquired. Y/N hummed in response. He leaned forward to see the papers, trying to make sense of it all.

He looked at the circled word as Y/N pointed to each of them. "The first pattern is about the rooms. Most of them happened in the living room. I'm not sure if that's relevant, but it's common," Y/N said. Dean took the clipping from Y/N to see for himself. Sam noticed the other articles.

"The second pattern is all of these murders took place in the same family," Y/N added.

The two of them nodded along. "Mind if we take this?" Dean asked. Y/N shook her head. "Not at all. Jenny won't mind. I can just tell her I checked them out," Y/N answered. Dean smiled and thanked her. "So, Y/N, do you know anything else?" the older brother questioned.

"Just that the Gates family has a history of scandals and, well, murders," Y/N answered. The boys chuckled at her comment. "Thanks, Y/N, this helps a lot. You have no idea how much we were struggling," Sam said. He saw her take out a red-covered book.

Y/N didn't have a specific genre that she loved, but some of it had to do with the paranormal. She knew that some people believed a ghost of some kind followed members of the Gates family throughout generations. Y/N read a book with a similar storyline.

He took the book from her, looking at the title before flipping to the back. "As much as it sounds crazy, some people think that there's a ghost that haunts the Gates family," Y/N said, "I'm a part of 'some people,' by the way." The two of them turned to her at her comment. Y/N chuckled at their expressions, slightly regretting even saying that.

Sam went to the first chapter, skimming over a few of the words. "Anyways, I've read the book back to back; it's one of my favorites, but I noticed some similarities between that case and the one in the story," Y/N continued, "It could help if you're into that type of stuff." Sam handed Dean the book after he was done looking at it.

Dean folded the corner of one of the pages. Y/N withheld herself from telling Dean not to do that. "If you two need anything, I'm a pretty big reader, so if anything, I think I'd be a good source if you need help," Y/N said. She grabbed her notepad and a pen. Y/N wrote down her phone number on the lined piece of paper.

She folded it and handed it to Sam. Sam smiled and took the paper from her. "Thanks," he said, "I'll-we'll definitely call you." Y/N smiled for the millionth time and nodded in response. Dean's eyes darted between them with himself smiling, too. He cleared his throat, interrupting their gaze yet again.

"Feel free to keep the files. There are more in the back next to the desks," Y/N said. "Great. Thanks, Y/N," Dean broke the silence. She got up from the table, leaving the book and files. Y/N said her goodbyes and hoped that she'd speak to Sam again.

________

(The Next Day)

Y/N had just gotten home from helping her friend move. She hummed to some music from her radio. After the song was over, she walked over and changed the CD before continuing to cook dinner. She finished pouring the sauce on top.

She turned on the oven, popping the Lasagna in. Y/N set a timer and started to clean up after herself. She was just about to set a pan on the drying rack when her phone began to ring. Y/N wiped her hands on a towel and grabbed her phone from the kitchen table.

"Hello?" she dropped the towel beside the sink. "Y/N. It's Sam," Sam said, running a hand through his hair. Dean, who was lying on the bed, perked up when he heard his brother on the phone.

Y/N smiled when she heard her new friend's voice. She stepped away from the counter, checking the dish in the oven. "Hi, is everything okay?" Y/N asked.

"Yeah, yeah. Everything's great. We were just wondering if we could pick your brain about something," Sam said. He sat down on the edge of the bed, trying his bad to ignore his brother's reaction. Y/N nodded and stepped back over to the oven.

She opened it slightly, not wanting her dinner to burn. "Sure," Y/N said. "Is now a bad time?" Sam asked. "No, no. I was just about to eat dinner," Y/N said, then thought of something, "Actually, if it's not too soon, I have enough food if you and Dean want to swing by."

There was a long pause on the other end, but Y/N could tell Sam was asking Dean. "Sure. If you don't mind," Sam said. "Not at all. I'll send you my address," Y/N responded. Sam thanked her and hung up the phone. Sam turned to Dean, who was still lying on the bed, his hands behind his head.

"Get up," Sam walked over to his shoes. He sat on the chair and began to put his sneakers on. "What? Why?" Dean asked, sitting up with confusion on his face. "We're going to Y/N's," Sam answered. "Oh, that cute chick from the library?" Dean guessed.

"Yes. That cute girl from the library," Sam nodded, correcting him. He grabbed his jacket that draped over the back of the chair. Dean pointed at Sam with a sly smirk on his face. "I knew you thought she was cute," Dean got up from the bed, ignoring his brother's glare.

________

(Later)

"Y/N, what beers do you have?" Dean sat at the kitchen table. Sam leaned to the side and punched him in the shoulder. Dean reached a hand up to his shoulder, sending a look in Sam's direction. Y/N stepped away from the kitchen island to look.

"Um, Miler light, Coors, Heineken..." she listed. Dean sat up in his spot as she held open the fridge door. Sam shook his head at his brother's sudden admiration for their new friend.

"Heineken," Dean said. Y/N grabbed a bottle for Dean and herself. "Sam, do you want anything?" Y/N asked. "Just a water," Sam answered. She poured Sam a glass of water. She walked back over to the table, handing each of them their drinks before checking on the Lasagna.

Sam had set up the table with his laptop and the pieces of evidence they had gathered. "Need help with anything?" Sam looked away from his laptop. Y/N grabbed the oven mitts from the drawer. "You could set the table," Y/N said, pointing to the side.

He gave her a thumbs up and stepped to where she directed. Sam grabbed some napkins and silverware. Dean pushed some of the papers away so his brother could set the table. After a few minutes, they were eating dinner and researching. Dean had already finished two plates of Lasagna, about the same as Y/N.

The three of them had already figured out what and where the next murder might take place, using the book Y/N had let them borrow and the files. About an hour had passed, and Sam stood beside Y/N as he helped her clean up.

Y/N smiled at him as he handed her a plate to dry. Dean was packing up the papers in the dining area. "Thanks again for helping us," Sam said. "Not a problem. I'm glad I could help," Y/N set a dish on the rack.

Sam turned off the sink once they finished cleaning. Dean cleared his throat, holding the strap of Sam's backpack. Y/N walked the brothers to the door. Dean winked at Sam before walking down the hall outside Y/N's apartment.

"Are you and Dean staying in town, or..." Y/N said. "I don't know," Sam set his hands in his pockets, "We'll probably finish our case then head out." Y/N slowly nodded, glancing at the ground and then up to Sam's eyes.

"Well, if you're here on Friday, I'm off work if you want to get di-" Y/N began. "Yeah, yeah. We're here on Friday," Sam interrupted. Y/N smiled at his response. Sam took his hands out of his pockets, swaying his arms slightly.

He hadn't noticed that he interrupted Y/N, focusing on the fact that she had just asked him. "Great. There's a good Italian place near my apartment if you want to go there," Y/N said, "Or, we can go someplace else, there's another good--"

"No, no. Italian sounds great. Love Italian."

Y/N could see Dean leaning against his car with his arms crossed. Dean tried to look away, but the conversation between Sam and Y/N was so intriguing to him. Sam looked over his shoulder to see his brother wander his eyes away.

Sam chuckled and turned back to Y/N. "You should get going. Dean seems to be getting more impatient," Y/N stated. He nodded in agreement. "Thanks again for the Lasagna. I'm pretty sure Dean ate half of it," Sam said. "He did. I don't blame him, though," Y/N responded, laughing.

It fell quiet between them again. Y/N reached up and kissed Sam on the cheek. "You have my number if you need any help," she said. "I will," Sam said, nodding. Y/N waved and stepped into her apartment, leaving him there with a smile on his face. Sam walked over to the car where Dean was waiting.

Dean shook his head as he got into the driver's seat, with Sam stepping in as well. "What?" Sam put his seatbelt on, clicking it into place. Dean put the keys into the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot. "I didn't say anything," Dean said. "Yeah, but your face did," Sam pointed.

He happened to glance at his phone, mainly because he wanted Y/N to call or text him. "Thought we could finish this case then head to wherever on Friday," Dean said, driving in the direction of their motel.

Sam looked away from his phone at Dean. "Actually," Sam began. He cleared his throat, fixing the seatbelt. "Y/N and I are getting dinner on Friday," he said. Dean's smirk grew. He turned to look at Sam once they were at a red light. Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's expression. "Don't," he pointed at Dean.

Dean raised his hands as he held the steering wheel. The light turned Green, and the Impala sped forward. "Don't, what?" Dean asked. "That look," Sam continued, "That look you get when I'm talking to any girl." Dean's brows furrowed in response to Sam's claim.

"I don't do that," he insisted.

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't," Dean fired back. There was silence for a split second. "Jerk," Sam leaned back in his seat, arms crossed. "Bitch," Dean replied.

_______

(That Friday Night)

Y/N sat in front of her mirror after changing for the millionth time. She wondered why she was focused on looking good. I guess everyone before a date wants to look their best. After four frustrating hours, Y/N decided on a white shirt with a green dress overtop. She looked back at her closet and then at her reflection.

She shook her head, stopping herself from choosing a completely different outfit. Y/N didn't have time to rethink everything. She grabbed her purse and slipped on a pair of black flats. Y/N played with her hair in the mirror, again, not knowing what to do.

She had been on a few dates in her town, but this just felt different. Just then, there was a pattern of knocks on her front door. "Be right there!" Y/N shouted. She took one last glance at herself in the mirror, applying a layer of lip gloss.

Sam stood at the doorway, looking very put together. He held a small bouquet of flowers. A pretty ribbon had been tied around the middle of the bundle. "I didn't know what flowers you liked but figured these were good. The florist said they were," Sam said. "They're wonderful. Thank you, Sam," Y/N grinned.

She opened the door for him. Sam bowed his head as he stepped into her apartment. He looked at a few pictures on the wall, surprised that he hadn't seen them the last time he was there. Y/N closed the door with the flowers in her hand. "Who's this?" Sam asked.

He pointed to a picture of her and her older brother, Alec. "Oh, that's me and my brother," Y/N answered, "I think we were at the Grand Canyon for his twentieth birthday." She stepped into the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase.

He followed her into the kitchen, looking at the pictures now on the wall in the dining area. Y/N stood on her tiptoes to get a vase from the top shelf. Sam reached behind her to help grab it. "Oh, thanks," Y/N softly smiled.

She turned on the sink, putting some water into the vase. After that, she carefully arranged the flowers into the glass vase and set it on the kitchen table. "Ready for dinner?" Y/N asked, looking at Sam, who was already looking at her. "You bet," Sam replied.

They left the apartment with Y/N almost forgetting to lock her front door. Sam opened the car door for Y/N. She thanked him, getting into the seat. He walked around the front of the car and got into the driver's seat. Dean was nice enough to let Sam borrow the car rather than Y/N picking Sam up at the motel.

A few minutes passed, with the two of them listening to music and talking about random things. Y/N had gone on and on about a new book she read. Sam sat in the driver's seat listening, just enjoying her talk.

It had been a while since Sam had been on a date. After Jessica's death, Sam didn't feel like meeting someone, but of course, Dean insisted that Jessica wouldn't want him walking around all lonely. This time with Y/N, Sam didn't feel forced or like he had to go on a date.

This time. He wanted to go on a date. He felt almost drawn to Y/N, but he wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because of her constant talking about the books she read, her references to her favorite bands similar to Dean's, or just how she handled herself. It was weird how much Sam noticed about Y/N.

Sam was an observer, something that he and Y/N shared. He noticed how she'd play with her rings as she talked or sighed when there was a pause between conversations.

It was almost like she was trying to fill the gaps when they weren't speaking. Which was the truth. Y/N enjoyed talking on dates, but sometimes, when it came to those pauses, a sigh or random comment was what popped into her head.

With a few more random topics later, they arrived at the Italian place. Sam parked the Impala in front of the restaurant.

Sam shut the car door, offering his hand. They held hands for a brief second before separating for Sam to open the door to the restaurant. The hostess greeted them with a welcoming smile.

"Reservation for Y/N," Y/N said.

Cara, the hostess, looked down at the notebook on the podium. She flipped a few pages before finding Y/N's name. "There you are, Y/N," Cara said, "This way." She grabbed two menus and led them to a table on the side.

The restaurant was nice. It was one of Y/N's favorite restaurants. Sometimes, she'd come just for the people-watching aspect and mainly because their pie was good, surprisingly. "So, what do you usually get?" Sam scanned over the options. Y/N looked at her menu.

"Well, their linguini is really good. Jenny gets it all the time," Y/N said.

Sam nodded. Their waiter stepped over to their table. "Hi, I'm Jeremy. And I'll be your server for tonight. Can I get you two started with our wine menu?" Jeremy asked, holding the small menus in his hand. Y/N glanced at Sam and then at the waiter.

"No, thank you," Y/N looked at Sam, "Unless you wanted to--"

"No, no. I'm okay," Sam interrupted. Jeremy nodded and gave them a moment to decide. "I don't even like wine," Y/N said, shaking her head. Sam chuckled and nodded in agreement. He set the menu to the side when he figured out what he wanted. Jeremy came back over to their table.

He took out his notepad and pen to write down their orders. Sam ordered the linguini per Y/N's request. "And I'll take Y/F/O," Y/N said. The waiter nodded while he wrote their orders. He tucked his pen in the apron's pocket. Jeremy grabbed the menus from them and walked to the back.

Y/N took a sip of her beer, glad that she had gotten that instead of wine. "So, how did the case go?" Y/N asked, setting her drink beside the basket of bread. "Good," Sam said, "You were right about the pattern." Y/N looked up from the table with her eyes widening.

"Really?" she said.

Sam chuckled at her expression, nodding his head. He took a roll from the basket, putting it down on a smaller plate. "That's great," Y/N handed him a knife for the butter.

Sam nodded in reply, taking a bite of the roll. It was silent, yet again, between the two of them. There was music playing in the background, but not loud enough for anyone to understand.

A waiter walked over to their table with their orders. Y/N leaned back slightly as they set her food in front of her. She thanked them, setting her napkin on her lap. "So, how do you like solving these cases with your brother?" Y/N asked, putting her fork and knife on the side.

He chuckled to himself and began cutting his pasta. "It's a journey for sure," Sam said. Y/N smiled. "Why do you say that?" Y/N asked. "Well," he took a bite of his food, "Dean can be....well Dean." She laughed at his comment. From the conversation she had with them, Y/N could tell where he was coming from.

"But it's nice. I mean, we're helping people when we close these cases," Sam said. "That must be nice working with your brother," Y/N took a sip of her beer. Sam nodded. The smile on his face never left. "I'd love to work with my family, but that's a whole other story," she said.

Sam looked up from his plate at her comment. She noticed his glance. "Long story short, my family, including my older brother, didn't approve of me moving to start a new life in a far away town," Y/N answered his confusion. He slowly nodded in understanding. "Why'd you move?" Sam asked, digging into his side salad.

Y/N thought to herself, thinking about how she should answer without bringing down the mood. "I lost someone close to me and needed to get away," Y/N explained, "My family was handling his death a little bit differently than me. I know some people say you shouldn't run away from your problems, but that seemed like the best option."

She paused to put some butter on a roll. Sam watched her closely, softly smiling that she was telling him about her life. "But! I'm glad I left because it introduced me to new things, a new job that I love," Y/N added.

Sam didn't ask her further questions, knowing that that was already a hard subject to begin with. "Enough about me, tell me about you," Y/N said. And so he told her about his family, disregarding the Supernatural, and why he was doing this 'road trip' with his brother. Y/N reached over and set a hand on top of his.

He returned the gesture by holding her hand across the table. "I'm so sorry," Y/N said. "It's okay. I've gotten better, and I've learned from it," Sam replied, "Just like you said, it introduced me to new things." Y/N's cheeks grew pink. She didn't want to, but she was first to let go of his hand.

The rest of the date went great. They talked about different things: where they went to school, where they grew up, favorite colors, favorite foods, and things like that. Sam parked the car in front of the apartment building. He walked her up the stairs and to her apartment door. "Thank you," Y/N stood in front of her door.

"Of course," Sam nodded, "I enjoyed it."

"Me too," Y/N said, fixing the strap of her purse.

She debated on offering him to come inside, but she didn't want him to take that the wrong way. "I know it's the first date and everything. And we just met the other day, but," Y/N swallowed down her nerves, "I really like you. And, I don't usually go on dates, but I'd like to go on a second date or keep this going if you-"

Her sentence was cut short by the feeling of Sam's lips on hers. Her hands went to his shoulders, losing grip of her purse. Y/N couldn't stop the smile from appearing on her face as they pulled apart.

"I'd like that," Sam said, "A lot, actually."

Y/N nodded, grinning from ear to ear as he looked into his eyes. "When do you leave?" Y/N asked. "I don't know," Sam sighed, repeating the same answer from the other day. There was a pause between them. "But I could stay for a couple days. Work can wait," Sam said. Y/N nodded again and leaned up to plant a kiss on his cheek.

Taglist: @nix-rose @nyotamalfoy

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Exam Anxiety Sickness

Pairings: Weems x Thornhill x Reader (platonic)

Word count: 1.4K

Summary: reader worries about her exam to a point of sickness

TW: extreme anxiety, vomiting,

A/n before any of you say this isn’t possible, I had a friend that used to get anxious to the point they threw up so…. Yeah. Also, for once I’m not projecting, I’m actually doing ok at my exams :)

Standing in your dorm you did up the last button on your school shirt.

“You will be fine. You studied. You studied hard. You will be fine.” You said to yourself, looking into the mirror with a stern expression. But it didn’t help, not really. You still couldn’t stop the fast thoughts. What if you studied the wrong stuff? What if you blank on the easiest questions? What ifs were running wild in your mind. Making your anxious nature their plaything.

You pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes trying to stave off the thoughts, drawing a shaky breath and emitting an even shakier exhale. It worked for a second, but that second was fleeting. And when that second was over the thoughts were back and they were angry.

“It's just botany Y/n” you said looking in the mirror. “It's only 50% of your final grade. You will be ok. You will be ok. Ok? Ok.” You said not really believing any of it. You wrung your hands and took another breath. You were pale from lack of sleep and virtually no time outside as you had spent every hour studying.

You slipped on the mask you wore everywhere, every day, all the time. The calm look on your face did nothing to reflect your inner termoil.

Shoving your hands into the blazer you looked yourself up and down, picking off any lint and grabbed your bag before leaving.

You felt too anxious to eat, the gnawing in your stomach making you feel sick. But you knew if you were hungry in the exam, it would be harder to focus. So, you choked back a few mouthfuls of Mac and cheese in the cafeteria, scraping the rest into the bin and returning the tray before leaving.

Slowly you walked towards the botany classroom. You knew if you didn’t pass this exam your whole future would implode. Gone before it even really started. You wanted to be a Botanist; plants were something that always fascinated you. It ran in your family, gardening. But to get into the course you wanted the expected grade was very, very high. So, you had no margin for error. None. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Nicht. Nine. Keine.

Slowing your pace your stomach flipped something awful. You pressed a hand to your midsection to try and ease the feeling, to no avail. The thoughts pounded in your head, and you felt a migraine coming on. Suddenly your stomach lurched again as the food you had eaten earlier settled in an awkward and awful way.

You felt the blood drain from your face, and you did your best to level your breathing which was coming hard and fast.

Doing your best to stay upright against the efforts of the sudden dizziness you felt you hurried as fast as you could to the nearest bathrooms which just happened to be the ones closest to the conservatory. Pushing the door open with the flat of your palm, your other hand gingerly resting over your stomach as if it would help (it didn’t in the slightest), you rushed into the closest stall trying to get to the toilet in time. dumping your bag on the ground and pitching forwards you heaved, nothing but dry retching at first as you gaged. You felt awful. After nothing happened you drew a deep breath and tried to release it slowly. After a second you let your guard down. Big mistake. In rapid succession things deteriorated.

You gaged again, throwing up properly this time. The small amount of food you had managed coming back up. After you were done you coughed and spat out the foul taste. Sitting back on your hunches where you still knelt infornt of the toilet you felt a hand come and rub your back gently. You startled at the touch, not having heard anyone enter over the sound of you retching.

“Better?” A voice asked and you froze mind working hard to catch up with what was happening.

Marilyn Thornhill, your botany teacher was crouched behind you softly rubbing the small of your back with the flat of her hand.

After an awkward second you unfroze and gave a weak nod. Your brain finally catching up enough to spiral again.

“Sorry I’m … I’m not late for the test …am I?” You asked, turning to face her.

“Oh, honey there’s no way you’re doing that test.” Ms Thornhill said gently. “Can you stand sweatpea?” She asked and you nodded. “Good. Good.” She said. “Ok, you come come honey.” And with that she pulled you up. One hand on your waist to make sure you didn’t fall over. Gently she moved you out of the way, reaching over and flushing the toilet.

“Oh honey.” She said looking back at you. “Are you sick?”

“N-no.” You said fidgeting. She took your hands in hers.

“Honey, don’t lie to me.”

“I-I’m not. I-i just…”

“Just what sweet girl?” And when you didn’t meet her gaze and shook your head she sighed softly.

“Let me take you to the nurse” she said placing a hand on the small of your back and leading you from the bathroom, your bag on her shoulder. “We can do the test another day or just … I’m sure we can come up with something.” She said not taking her eyes off you. Your eyes however stayed trained on the floor as you walked.

Not watching where you were going you felt her grab your arm and stop you. At that you looked up, eyes meeting with the sky-blue eyes of your principal.

“Marilyn, how are you?” Larissa asked before turning to you, her smile faltering as she took in your state. “Y/n? Are you ok?”

Before you could respond your teacher gave you a stern look and spoke before you.

“No. No, she’s not.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, whats the matter? Can i help?” Ms Weems asked.

“I was just accompanying Ms L/n to the nurse before she could run off.” Your teacher said giving you upper arm a soft rub for comfort.

“I wouldn’t ‘run off’” you muttered kicking the dirt, both teachers frowned.

“Whats the matter? If you don’t mind me asking.” The principal asked.

“Im-“

“She threw up.” The botanist cut in before you could say you were fine.

“Oh dear. Well Marilyn I’m sure you have classes, i can escort Y/n myself.” Weems said and the botanist nodded and handed her your bag. They both said their goodbyes and weems took your arm, leading you to the infirmary.

“Ms Weems i assure you this really isn’t necessary.” You began and she shook her head.

“I would hate to find out what you deem ‘necessary’ then y/n” she said, and you scoffed making her raise an eyebrow. “Do enlighten me then.” She said.

“Well i wouldn’t say the results of my test anxiety requires a visit to the infirmary.” You huffed and she stopped dead in her tracks.

“You mean to tell me you were so stressed about your exam … it made you physically sick?” She said looking both shocked and worried. You bit your lip, looking away and nodding.

“Alright.” She said slowly and turned around. “Come.” She said and you frowned and followed.

“Where are we going?”

“My office. It seems you don’t need any more stress right now and the best place would be somewhere quiet and calm. My office luckily fits those descriptors.”

“B-but the test?” You stammered.

“Is no longer of importance darling.” She said and you swallowed and nodded, giving into the stern look she gave you. Almost straight after you lamented, she smiled, her features softening.

“Good. Well, let's go. I can make us some tea or hot chocolate?” She asked.

“Hot chocolate please.” You murmured as she opened the door gesturing for you to go first.

“Coming right up darling.” She said and disappeared as you sat on the couch. She returned a moment later with the drinks. And with that you began to relax. Feeling better by the minute. You made small talk with the principal, enjoying her company immensely.

Meanwhile Larissa was scheming all the ways she could tease Marilyn for stressing her students out to the point it made them sick. As if Marilyn hadn’t been run down with a cold herself the past week due to stress. It seems you stressed each-other out. Maybe she needed to organise some sort of vacation for teachers and students.

MASTERLIST

[loversj0y]

'tis the damn season

chapter two - you could call me babe for the weekend

alcohol-induced decisions snowball into conversations about the future, family tensions, poetry, and a serious discussion on the bitchiness of orca whales.

'tis the damn season masterlist

pairing: cc!wilbur soot x gn!reader

this part is primarily fluff! im keeping the list of tws in each part just for the sake of clarity

trigger warnings: reader's mother is abusive (not physically) and father is emotionally absent. this will be talked about in extensive detail. alcohol, some suggestive themes, and a lot of anxiety, slut-shaming

author's note: part two baby lets fcking go!!!! this part is insanely sweet but also there are some.... tenser moments due to families being shit tbh (it also becomes abundantly clear here why i consider dialogue my strong suit and not anything else bc i am Not the best at being Descriptive! ao3 version!

word count: 9.6k

You and Wilbur spent the next four days developing a routine. It always started with butting heads with your family and running to Wilbur’s for solace. You two would spend hours talking before falling asleep together on his bed. In the morning, you would walk back to your house, and the cycle would repeat. On the fifth day of this routine, drinks got involved. 

“You brought a whole bottle of vodka?” Wilbur deadpanned. 

“Yep,” you replied, “I’m not sure about you, but I’d like to get at least mostly drunk.” 

He shrugged, “Can’t say I’m doing anything tomorrow that would stop me from wanting to. Plus, we haven’t drank together in years. Got to carry on a tradition.” You mindlessly wondered if he was thinking of the same night you were. “I’ll grab some cups. Want to drink it straight or with a mixer?”

“Both. Start with two shots and then maybe cranberry juice mixer?” 

He nodded, “Alright, to the kitchen we go.” 

You both walked to the kitchen, and he grabbed two shot glasses. You poured one into each, setting the bottle down and grabbing your shot. 

“Ready?”

He picked his shot up and nodded, the both of you throwing your heads back in moments to take the first one. You coughed a bit after swallowing it. You weren’t really used to drinking much anymore, but from the looks of it, neither was Wilbur. He coughed as well, groaning lightly. After you recovered, you started pouring the second shots, and the cycle repeats once more. 

“Fucking hell, man, I forgot how annoying shots are,” you chuckled. 

He laughed, “Yeah, though, to be fair, we completely forgot a chaser.” 

You shrugged, “True, but we have to stay true to our traditions.” 

“Good point,” he grabbed the cranberry juice from the fridge, pouring it into two empty glasses while you washed the shot glasses. He added the ice and the vodka, grabbing both cups when he was done. We headed upstairs, sitting on his bed and putting some random show on the TV. 

“Man, this really does feel like school all over again,” he laughed. 

“You know what they say, ‘when in Rome’,” you chuckled. 

“I suppose,” he hummed, both of you taking sips of your drinks. 

After a moment, you leaned against him wordlessly. He gave you a confused look and you just shrugged. 

“You know,” you started, “for as shit as it is, being with my parents and all, I’m glad I showed up this year.”

“Oh, really? Why’s that?” He snickered. 

You looked up at him, holding your tongue. You were thankful for the vodka giving you an excuse for the redness on your cheeks, but you knew it wasn’t the drinks making you notice just how gorgeous he looked right now. His hair was tousled, probably from the amount of times he would adjust his hair while he spoke. His sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, drawing attention to the carefully crafted veins that followed from his hands up his arms. There was a slight pink tinge to his cheeks, but you couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or your staring that made him blush. You were only tipsy, but he made you feel completely intoxicated.

In a moment of boldness, you leaned up and kissed his cheek.“Because if I didn’t, I’d never have seen a certain handsome guy again. And even worse, I never would’ve gotten to do that.”

Almost immediately, he blushed furiously, “You get a drop of alcohol in you and get all kissy, huh?” 

You shrugged, and the sober part of your brain was yelling at you to shut up before you did something stupid. “Only with you.” 

His breath hitched, obviously unsure of what to say. His mind was in overload. The person he loves is actively flirting it seems, and he had no clue what to do. He thought about kissing you every day since that first kiss. Truthfully, he thought about it every day since you’d met. In the past, it was only the alcohol that gave him courage to ask. Now, his courage lays less in the alcohol and more in the fact that you were flirting with him, and he knew there would not likely be another chance like this. He turned to face you, gently reaching down to hold your hand. 

“Can I… can I kiss you?” 

You nodded. He cautiously pulled you forward, and after a moment of breathlessness, pining, and anticipation, you closed the gap. The entire world came to a stop as your lips pressed together. The only thing you could focus on was his lips on yours, shaky hands pulling each other closer, and the intense beating of your heart. 

One kiss turned to two, which then turned to three, which then turned to cups on nightstands, a forgotten show, and a lost count of how many kisses had been shared. You had no clue how much time had passed, the only indication of time was the “Are you still watching?” screen proudly displayed on the TV, bathing you and Wilbur in muted light. You pulled away first, completely breathless and admiring the goofy smile on his face as he panted lightly. He reached a hand up, gently brushing his thumb over a small hickey he’d left near your collarbone. 

“Sorry,” he hummed, “got a bit enthusiastic.”

"You're not sorry. I can see how proud you look," You snorted, "But I don’t mind, I just may need to steal one of your jumpers to make up for it.” 

He tapped his chin in contemplation, “I like the terms of that deal.” He stood, grabbing a light blue jumper from his closet and handing it to you. 

You pulled it on over your shirt before looking down at it, “Will, is this your merch?” 

“It may be,” he hummed, “it looks good on you, though, babe.”

You tensed, and it seemed to be more visible than you’d intended as he asked, “Oh, I’m sorry, is that not alright? I can call you something else, or just forego the pet names thing entirely, if that- if that makes you more comfortable.”

You shook your head a bit, “No, it’s… it’s alright. Just not used to it.” 

He nodded with a sweet smile, “Alright,” he sat down again, holding his hand out for yours. 

You smiled, placing your hand in his. He pulled you forward until you were pressed against his chest again.

“Hi,” he chuckled. 

“Hey,” you snorted in response, grinning up at him. 

“You’re very pretty,” he hummed. 

“So are you.” 

“I have a proposition, okay, hear me out, ready?”

You nodded as he continued. “You’re pretty, and you say I’m pretty. And I think, if we’re both pretty, it’d be absolutely beautiful if we kissed some more.” 

You burst out into laughter, nodding. “Yeah, okay. I’d love to make something beautiful with you.” 

He grinned widely, pulling you in for another kiss. At this point, the alcohol had mostly faded from both your system and his. You two were just drunk off each other, becoming a mess of lips, arms tangled around each other, hands in hair, and matching grins. You never felt more thankful for throwing caution out the wind. When you two eventually tired of kissing, you laid your head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms tightly around you, keeping you as close as possible. 

“We should probably talk about this,” he said, staring up at his ceiling. 

You sighed, burying your face against his chest, “Probably should. Or, we could wait ‘til morning and just be all cozy and relaxed right now.” 

He chuckled, pressing a kiss into your forehead, “Alright. I am a bit tired, anyway.” 

You nodded in agreement and let your eyes slip shut. Upon noticing, Wilbur started humming softly until you’d fully fallen into the arms of sleep. 

The morning did not end up as peaceful as you’d hoped it would be. You did not wake up in Wilbur’s arms, but rather to the sounds of him frantically moving across his room, clearly panicking about something. 

“Will?” 

His head whipped over to you, “Hi, darling, good morning, or- afternoon, rather, I guess.” 

“Is everything alright?”

He nodded rapidly, “Yep, yes. Yes. I just- I forgot I have an event for stream today and it starts in like five minutes.” 

At that, you grabbed your phone to check the time, startled by how late it was. You were even more startled by the missed call and subsequent text from your mother, informing you of the family holiday dinner that your presence was mandatory for. You groaned, burying your face into the mattress for a moment. The idea of spending another night surrounded by your extended family felt less like a chore and more like court sentencing. Not to mention, you could sense your mother’s kindness was a fallacy she created to convince you to visit. Every moment you were around her you got the sense of her old habits refusing to die. 

“I have to go, too,” You sighed, pulling yourself to the edge of the mattress. 

He frowned, “Family stuff?” 

You nodded. 

“Well, maybe after, if you’re not too tired, we can see each other again. If not, there’s always tomorrow, so,” he walked over, gently kissing your forehead, “we got time.” 

You were acutely aware of the fact that, realistically, you two did not have time. But that point was irrelevant in this context, so instead, you just nodded. 

Wilbur helped you to your feet, gently wrapping his arms around you. You did the same, hugging him tightly for a moment. After a moment, you pulled away and you two stood at arm's length. 

He leaned down, giving you a gentle kiss, “I’ll text you after the stream, alright? Hopefully, then I can give you some escape from your family.” 

You kissed him back, chuckling, “Please, do. I’ll take all the help I could get against them.” 

The walk back home was filled with uneventful dread. You had a few hours to decompress and get ready, but you just didn’t want to go to this dinner. You just wanted to be with Wilbur or to be alone. You opened your front door to see your mother standing in the foyer, and she whipped her head around once you walked in. 

“My God, Y/N, I had half a mind to assume you’d died! You don’t even bother to text me when you’ve gone out, or when you’ve woken up, let alone answer my calls, I-“ She stopped herself mid-sentence, taking in your appearance with disdain: the oversized sweater, the messy hair, and the slight red on your cheeks that hadn’t quite gone away since you kissed Wilbur goodbye. 

“Where were you?” She demanded, “So help me God, you’d better tell me the truth because, I will not have my child being a whore under my roof.” 

You groaned knuckles going white as your hands turned to fists, “For fuck’s sake, Mum, I’m an adult, alright? I’m allowed to have my own life and do my own things, and I am in no way obligated to tell you where I’ve been.” 

“Are you on drugs? Have you been going off and getting high?”

“I wish I was, Mum, because maybe then your accusations would actually fucking make sense.” 

Your mother scoffed, and you watched with horrid familiarity as her facade returned. Her voice took on a new edge when she spoke, one that brought you back to being a scared child, helpless in defending yourself, “Darling, everything I do is for your sake-“

“Don’t give me that bullshit, mum. You did things for me because it was your job when I was growing up, but you haven’t done shit for me except treat me like an obligation since I left to live in London.”

She let out a sigh, clearly trying to invoke your sympathy, “Well, maybe I just miss knowing what my child is doing.”  

You wouldn’t give her an ounce of your pity. “Yeah? Well, maybe if you were a better mother, you’d know.” 

You left her standing there in shock as you stormed back to your room. Maybe that was mean, but you couldn’t care less. She made your life a living hell, and still apparently attempts to, and at least now you didn’t have to cower around her anymore. You could stand up for yourself. You got ready for the hellish evening that awaited you, popping on Wilbur’s stream in the meantime. Thankfully, you were able to find an outfit that covered the physical evidence of Wilbur on you, given his apparent love for hickeys. You finished getting ready and just hid out in your room for as long as you reasonably could. Wilbur texted you once his stream ended, and the two of you continued to text throughout the night, which provided a nice distraction from the politics of a family holiday dinner. Your mother refused to make eye contact with you, clearly still upset about our argument. You paid no mind to her pointed remarks and snarky comments throughout the night. The highlight of the evening, however, was your younger cousin. He was a small lad, just recently turned eight, and was frankly a major iPad kid. The joy came from passing behind him to see Wilbur on his screen. He was watching a Minecraft video by someone named Tommy, and lo and behold, there was Wilbur. You brought up Tommy to Wilbur, and he seemed fond of him, happily considering Tommy his “favorite nuisance”. 

Once enough people had left – and anyone who was still there was too drunk to notice one less person –  you took the opportunity to leave. Once you were out in the light snow, you trekked over to Wilbur’s, shooting him a quick text to let him know you’d be there soon. You were freezing by the time you’d arrived, having left your jacket back in your room. 

He opened the door, pulling you into his arms, “Darling, you’re shaking, come here.” 

You hugged him back tightly, leaning your head into his shoulder, “You don’t know how happy I am to be here with you.”

“It was that bad?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, closing your eyes, “God, I feel stupid”

“What do you mean?” 

“I just- they changed! Or at least, they seemed like they did. Every phone call, they seemed pleasant. I only agreed to even come back because it- it genuinely seemed like they’d changed. But fuck man, they’re exactly the fucking same, if not worse now. I can’t even fathom how I let them get my hopes up again.”

Wilbur didn’t seem to know what to say, instead just rubbing your back soothingly. He spoke up after a moment, “‘m sorry. That sounds like shit.”

“It is,” you pulled away, “I’d rather not think about it anymore, honestly. Not much I can do about it right now, anyway.”  

He nodded, “Well, c’mon. You remember how you asked about Tommy?” 

You nodded. 

“I may have told him about you a bit, and he’s insistent on talking to you. Granted, I told him that wouldn’t be happening, but given the bad night that you’ve had? Trust me, he can make anyone laugh, and you’ll love him, I promise.” 

“Okay, sure,” you chuckled, “If you say so.” 

He took your hand, pulling you upstairs. You chuckled as you followed him. You sat down in the office chair next to him, and he pulled your chair closer to his own, both popping a headphone in. 

“Don’t say anything yet, alright?”

You nodded as he rang Tommy. 

“Wilbur!” Tommy spoke loudly, which immediately made you cringe from the noise. Wilbur turned down the volume.

“Hey, Tommy! Listen, remember that childhood friend I told you I was reconnecting with?” 

“You mean snogging? Yes.” 

Wilbur blushed and you stifled a laugh. “Sure, right. You remember how I said you wouldn’t be meeting them?”

“Why, yes, Wilbur, you said it quite rudely.”

“Right, well,” he gestured for you to say hello. 

“Hi, Tommy. It’s nice to meet you.”

A beat passed. Then two. 

“WILL, YOU BASTARD, I-” Tommy yelled. You were thankful Wilbur had turned the volumn down. He then took a deep breath clearing his throat, “Hello, Wilbur’s friend. Wilbur, I knew you would introduce me, you prick.” 

From there, you and Wilbur spoke to Tommy for a while. He and Wilbur seemed to have this odd dynamic that consisted mostly of just poking fun at each other, but you’d be dammed if you didn’t admit how funny the kid was. Even if a good amount of his comedy was just yelling at Wilbur, it did bring a smile onto your face and even made you laugh quite a bit. Wilbur was right, he did strongly improve your mood after your day. 

You and Wilbur ended up laying on his bed afterward, your head on his chest. His hands carded through your hair, taking care to make sure he didn’t tug at any knots. He spoke up softly, “I know you’ve had a shit day, but we should still probably talk.” 

You groaned softly, sighing, “I hate when you’re right, you know that?” 

“I know,” He chuckled, “I don’t love it either, you’re usually the one in the right.” He took a deep breath before moving on to the actual heart of the topic at hand, “You know, I do really, genuinely like you in a romantic sense.” 

“I really like you too.” You didn’t like him, you fucking love him. But if you knew where this was going, you didn’t want to make this harder for the both of you.

He smiled at this, squeezing your hand gently, “Suppose we should discuss if we’re official then.”

You sighed, a frown adorning your features, “In the sake of honesty, I don’t know if we can be.” His face dropped, frown matching your own as you continued.

“In a few days, I’m going back to London, and I barely have time to focus on anything other than studying. I’m worried that I’d be neglectful as a partner, and you don’t deserve that. Even more so, thinking about the future scares the shit out of me. I’m scared of everything, Wilbur. Don’t get me wrong, I want nothing more than to be here with you and forget about the world. I want nothing more than the ability to have a happy relationship with you. But- but, Will, I’m scared of deciding to go through with this, and ending up losing you because of it.” 

You buried your head against his chest, letting out a shaky sigh. He was silent for a while before he spoke again. 

“I understand. So, how about this?” You looked up at him and he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, “We have this week. These last few days of holding onto each other and calling each other babe. Then, once you leave, and you get settled in, we see what we can do. We’ll see if you can have the time, or if I can do something, or whatever we can do. And if we figure it out, we figure it out. If we don’t, we wait until you finish this final year, and we pick up from there.”

“You’d be willing to do that?”

“Love, I waited fifteen years to kiss you, and another four just to have you in my life again. A year is nothing in comparison.” 

You didn’t quite know when you’d started crying. You sniffled a bit, wiping your eyes as you nodded rapidly. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. We can do that.”

He smiled at you, wiping your eyes gently, “Okay.” 

You leaned up, placing a hand on his cheek as you kissed him. Your heart felt so warm, but your stomach still felt sick at the idea that so much remained uncertain. Part of you hated the idea that he’d be waiting for you, but a band aid solution felt better than simmering in bubbling anxiety, so you would accept it for now at least. 

He held you close, smiling softly. He pressed a kiss to your forehead gently, “Don’t worry, love. This time, regardless of what happens, I’m not losing you again. You’re stuck with me, honestly, so you’d better hope you don’t get sick of me. Because I am going to be a thorn in your side.”

You laughed, burying your face against his shoulder, “I’ll gladly accept that. I think I could get quite used to the feeling of being prodded by a thorn all the time.” 

He immediately burst out laughing, and you chuckled yourself, lightly hitting him. “I did not mean it like that.” 

He laughed, “Mean it like what, darling? Like this?” He turned, sitting on your hips as he started to tickle you. You squealed, squirming under him and laughing. 

“Will! I- I swear to God, mate, I will- I will piss myself, stop it!” 

He laughed at what could only be described as your suffering, stopping after a moment and just placing his hands on your sides. He leaned down and kissed you, and you wrapped your arms around him, gently playing with the ends of his hair. He hummed softly, one hand coming to cradle your head, his thumb rubbing your cheek. You were both breathless when he pulled away. A lopsided grin stretched across his face, still panting as he spoke, “Do you think orcas make fun of other whales for not having cool designs?” 

You burst out laughing, groaning as you threw your head back, “Wilbur Soot, what the hell?”

“I’m serious!” He laughed, “Do you think they’re mean about it?” 

You laughed, adoring just how bizarre this beautiful man could be, “I think some are. I like to think most are kind, though. Why is this important?” You laughed through your words. 

His eyes crinkled at the edges as he grinned widely, “Everything has some importance to it. In this case, your opinion on if orca whales are assholes or not. I just like hearing your worldview.” 

You flushed softly, “Really? And of all the things you’d ask about, why the bitchiness of orcas?” 

He hummed, “Well, one, whales are fucking amazing. They’re gigantic and insane looking, I fucking love them. Two, it’s serious to me, but it's not serious. I know your politics, and you know mine. But silly stuff still reflects you, so I’m curious. Now that I can, I want to know all of you in every tiny detail, I want to absorb everything that I’ve missed in the past few years or all the things I just may have forgotten to time. I want to know the parts of you that you have never shown before, and I want to know the parts of you that don’t exist yet. Hence, asking a question you’ve probably never thought of before. I want to learn you as you learn yourself and show you the beauty that lies in each detail.” 

You blushed darkly, left speechless. The word, love, was not strong enough, didn’t feel quite right, to fully define just how much you felt for this man. Telling him “I love you” would never fit how much you truly felt for him. You refrained from saying it for now, eventually just grabbing onto him and pulling him into a tight hug. 

“You have no idea just how much you mean to me,” you whispered against his ear. 

He kissed the side of your head, whispering back, “Darling, I know more than anyone just exactly what you mean.” 

You held him, tighter, as if he’d leave you the same way you left him if you’d let go. After a moment, tears began welling up in your eyes. Not bad or good ones, but ones that signified just how loved you felt and how much you felt for him. 

“Darling, you’re shaking, is everything alright?” He pulled away, frowning, “You’re crying, love, what’s going on?” 

You shook your head, smiling through the tears, “No, it’s not bad, I’m just- sorry,” you spoke in a light sob, and he shook his head. 

“Don’t apologize! I’m just worried, did something happen?” 

You smiled widely up at him, “No, I’m just overwhelmed,” you said, and when his expression fell, you quickly tacked on, “Not because of you! You just, um, you make me feel… seen, I guess.” 

He smiled, wiping tears away, “I’m glad, then. You deserve to be seen. You’re beautiful, and amazing, and… everything. Even if I am the only one who sees you, at least then, someone knows how grand your existence is.” 

You groaned, blushing again, “You can’t just say things like that, you twat,” you sniffled a bit. “It’s too nice.”

“It’s true,” he shrugged, “simply deal with it.” 

You laughed, pulling him in for another hug, “I’ll learn to, I guess.” 

He buried his face against your neck, nodding, “Good.” He pressed a few gentle kisses along your neck. The kisses started delicately, as if he was worried that kissing you too hard would hurt. As you relaxed further and further into each kiss, you could feel him grin softly against your neck. His kisses slowly became more heated. They became languid and rougher, but never painful. He eventually escalated to covering your neck with hickeys, your hands carding through his hair. You fully relaxed in his arms. You kissed the top of his head, and he looked up at you, grinning softly. 

“Sorry,” he hummed, “May have gotten a bit carried away.”

“It’s alright, I quite like them.”

“Oh, really?” He went to add more to the mosaic on you, but you held him back. 

“Yes, but I’d much rather kiss you myself.” 

He pulled himself up, grinning down at you, “Gladly.” 

Things were still and quiet in the morning. You rested your head against Wilbur’s chest, his arms securely wrapped around you. Overnight, it appeared that the snow had gotten stronger, so there was a slight chill in the room that had you moving further into Wilbur’s arms. 

Wilbur pressed a gentle kiss to your head, “Morning.”

You hummed, looking up at him, “Morning.” 

The room settled into a comfortable silence, both of your brains still stirring awake. His head shifted towards the window, calling your attention to the snowflakes gathering on the sill.

“You know I’m not letting you walk home like this?”

“What, in the cold?”

“Yep. And not to mention you look… a little wild.” 

“Coming from you that’s a compliment. I’d argue you probably look worse.” 

“I could make you look worse.”

You snorted and laughed, laying your head on his chest again, “You’re in a mood this morning.” 

“I’m just happy that you’re here.”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve woken up here recently though.”

“No. But it’s the first time we’re able to kiss and relax when we wake up together.” 

You smiled, “True. A nice contrast to yesterday.” 

He hummed, “Today will be a better day.” 

You chuckled in agreement, holding tightly to him. 

He gently rubbed your back, kissing the top of your head. 

After a moment, you looked up at him. “We have to get up at some point, you know.”

He hummed, turning you both over to splay his body weight on top of you. “‘m sorry, what was that?” 

You laughed, “Okay, okay, don’t crush me, we can just sleep in. At least until like midday.” 

He cheered, getting up on his elbows and covering your face in kisses, “Yes! Good! Rest time!” 

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re good at convincing. Helps when there’s something in it for me.” 

“Like what?” 

“A kiss, hopefully.”

“Gladly,” He chuckled. He leaned down, lips meeting yours in a quick motion. You kissed him back, your hands playing with his hair gently. When you pulled away, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you on top of him and squeezing you tightly. 

“Will! Are you trying to kill me?” You laughed as you asked him breathlessly. 

He lightened up a bit, chuckling, “Nope. Just trying to keep you here forever.” 

You hummed, sitting up on his lap once he gave you the space. “It’d be an honor to be here forever.”

“In our secret oasis.” His hands came to your sides, lightly rubbing up and down. 

“It’s your childhood bedroom, but yes, if you want to give it the dramatic name. Our secret oasis.” 

“It’s secret because no one knows we’re here.” 

“What about Tommy? Or the thousands of people on your stream?” 

“Tommy doesn’t know my exact location. And I’d fucking hope my chat doesn’t either.” He laughed.

You laughed, “Okay, okay, I get it. It’s our secret place. Though I’d argue the back field where we had our first kiss is probably more of our secret place.”

“Oh, god, don’t remind me of that kiss. I was so nervous to kiss you. I practically chugged half the vodka to try and calm down.” 

“I was nervous too! My cute, dorky, best friend who I’d secretly been crushing on, wanted to kiss me? Yeah, I freaked out a little bit.”

“It didn’t seem like it! You seemed so composed!” 

“Only because I was so nervous.” You leaned down, pecking his lips. “We should try and go back there one of these days. Maybe recreate that kiss with fewer nerves?”

“Would you put your prom outfit back on?”

You lightly slapped his chest, gasping at the implications, “You gremlin.”

“I’m serious! You looked really good.”

“Would you wear yours?”

“Mine still vaguely smells like vomit, so, no.”

“Then I won’t be wearing mine.” You stuck your tongue out at him. 

He pouted, “Fine. To be fair, you could be wearing anything and I’d find you gorgeous.” 

You flushed, “Even in a dinosaur costume?”

“Oh, especially in a dinosaur costume.” 

You laughed, “Okay, Soot. I’ll wear that if we ever go on a date.”

“You mean when. We will be going on a date without a doubt.” 

“Oh? And what would we do?” 

He hummed, “Well, we couldn’t be out in public. For your safety and privacy. Plus, I know you don’t like fancy places much anyway. So, probably a picnic. But, with some takeout from a good restaurant since my cooking isn’t fantastic. And then, just coming back to my place, or yours, and watching a movie.” 

“That… sounds lovely, actually.”

“Actually? Rude.” 

You chuckled, “Sorry, I’ve just become used to the idea of a date being ‘come by my place so we can drink surrounded by shitty roommates and trash.’”

Wilbur looked horrified, “Darling, I am going to change that. No more gross college boys. You deserve to be treated so much better.”

You blushed, “Thank you, Will. I’ll be holding you to that, though.”

“You don’t even have to worry. I can’t believe you had to even deal with people like that, Christ. I’m going to raise your standards.”

You hummed, “You already have.” 

Pink rose on Wilbur’s face, and he reached a hand up to your cheek, “I’m glad then.” 

You smiled, leaning forward and playing with his hair. 

“We should go,” you spoke up, “Back to the field, I mean. Might be a nice way to just get out of the house a bit.” 

You nodded with a hum. “When?” 

He wrapped his arms tightly around you, “Later after we’ve taken a nap.”

“Wilbur, we’ve just woken up.”

“Yeah, but you make me comfortable. Plus we had a lot of fun last night.” 

You lightly hit him, “Get your mind out of the gutter, Soot. A nap does sound nice though.”

He grinned, “Doesn’t it?”

You leaned down, placing your head on his shoulder and landing a soft kiss on his cheek. He turned his head to grin lovingly at you, parting the curtain of your hair with one hand while the other held you close to him. 

By the time you woke up again, it was well past three. Wilbur was already awake, his hand gently carding through your hair. It was a bit warmer now than when you’d woken up initially. You yawned, stretching as you woke up. 

“Morning, darling,” he smiled as he looked down at you. 

“Morning, again,” you chuckled softly, sitting up properly and rubbing your eyes. 

He chuckled, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “You hungry?” 

You nodded. 

“Want to go to the cafe? It’s probably pretty empty right now.” 

You chuckled, nodding again, “Yeah, that sounds nice. Mind if I borrow a jumper?” 

He hummed, “Go ahead. Take your pick.”

You stood slowly, grabbing a big yellow jumper from his closet. You changed quickly, trying to conserve enough warmth while Wilbur changed as well. 

You finished getting dressed, turning to him, “Are we walking there?” 

He hummed, peering out the window, “We could, but it might be safer if we don’t. It’s not snowing anymore, but it could start up again.”

“I could drive us then. We’d just have to walk to my place.”

He nodded, “Alright.”

Taking his hand in yours, you walked downstairs and outside into the cold icy streets. 

The walk to your house was peaceful, breaths visible in the air, as you and Wilbur walked hand in hand. When you reached your front door, the serene air surrounding your walk shattered upon realizing you had to face your family. You just had to go in and grab your keys. You repeated it like a mantra in your mind. You considered telling Wilbur to wait outside, but before you could, he squeezed your hand. 

“It’s alright, I’ll be with you the whole time, okay?” 

You nodded, looking up at him as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You let out a breath, letting go of his hand to open your front door. You tried to make a B-line for your room, but the sound of the door opening seemed to have alerted the home, as your aunt swooped into the foyer.

“Oh, my goodness! Little Wilby! My, how you’ve grown!” She squealed out, the rest of your family coming up quickly. Everyone was quick to dote on Wilbur, having known him for just about as long as you had. 

“Sweetheart, is that where you’ve been sneaking off to? You should’ve told me you were hanging out with Wilbur, we could’ve invited him for dinner!” Your mother seemed innately pleased in the notion that you were with Wilbur. It only made you want to get out of there faster. Wilbur didn’t seem too overwhelmed speaking to your family, but you knew that it was starting to get to him slightly so you took charge. 

“Right, well, we’re planning to head to the café, so we’d best get going. I just need to grab my keys,” you grabbed Wilbur’s arm, pulling him quickly to your room, and ignoring the calls of protest from behind you. 

You let out a breath once you got in, looking up at him, “Sorry if they were kind of all over you.” 

He smiled softly, “It’s alright,” he pulled you forward, kissing the top of your head. He was quiet for a moment before a frown replaced his smile. “They haven’t changed,” he hummed, “I thought you told me before you left that they were getting better” 

You sighed, “I thought they were,” you leaned your head against his chest, “They only got better because I was there to mediate. Now, they’re just as toxic again.”

“Well, you should grab a bag and put some clothes and stuff in it. That way you can spend the majority of your time not here.” Wilbur suggested, gently rubbing your back.

You looked up at him, a soft grin adorning his face. You smiled back, “That sounds like a great idea.”

You pulled away to start grabbing stuff, Wilbur sitting down on your bed. You wondered what he was thinking about. Vaguely you wondered if he was getting that same feeling you did the night you went back to his room to listen to him play music. You wondered if his eyes roaming around meant that he was also reliving the memories you two had here, the number of times you had snuck out of your window, him showing you random videos to drown out the fighting of your family, complaining over schoolwork or professors, and just existing hip to hip. 

Once you’d packed up, you walked over to him, grabbing his hands. “You’re thinking about something.”

He chuckled, “Yeah, I am.”

“What’s in that head of yours, Soot?”

“Thinking about the future.”

Oh. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I mean, neither of us live here anymore. And you’ll be leaving London eventually. So, I’m thinking about where we go from there.” 

“Well, depends on where I get a job, I suppose.” 

“Lots of jobs in Brighton.”

“Will,” you laughed, “That doesn’t mean I’ll be able to find one there. I’m studying fucking English. Not much I can do anywhere I want.”

“You could work for me.”

“Will-“

“No, I’m serious. You used to help me with DnD campaigns. You could edit scripts or lyrics. You used to write poetry, don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

You sighed, “Will, I’m not sure that would work. I’m not sure dating my employer is truly the best solution here.” 

“For Tommy, then, he probably needs more help with his scripts than I do anyway.” 

“That could cause problems with you and Tommy if something happens, and I don’t want that.” 

“I’m just saying, there are options. You could do remote work and just live in Brighton.”

“Brighton is expensive.” 

“It’s cheaper than London.”

“Not by much. Rent is still insane in Brighton, trust me, I’ve looked.” 

“Not if you split a place with me.”

Your breath hitched. 

“Wilbur…”

“Just hear me out, okay, we’ve known each other long enough to know how we’d work together. I’m not losing you again. We could find a nice three-bedroom, so we could both have our own rooms and office space, and we could make it work. Then, once we’ve saved enough, we could move to fuckin’ America or something, wherever we want to go, we could do.”

“America?”

“Anywhere you’d like to go, I’d follow you. America’s just my pipe dream.” 

You sighed. It could be a good option, honestly. 

“I’m just not quite sure yet.”

“And you don’t have to be! You’ve still got a year til graduation. I could find a place in that time, so by the time you’re ready, we can do it.” 

You squeezed his hands, hanging your head, “Maybe I’ll think about it.” 

He seemed to let out a breath of relief, “That’s all I ask.” 

You nodded, placing your forehead against his gently. You and he shared a silent moment, just breathing together. His hands slowly moved to wrap around your waist, pulling you in to tight hug. You hugged him back just as tightly. And though he would never say it, you knew exactly what fear ran through his mind. You knew exactly what he was afraid of. That you refused to be as dedicated to this commitment between the two of you as he was. Because there remained a lingering fear in you that this would not last. This pocket of bliss would rip a seam at the bottom and fall into another void of unforgiving remnants of time where your promises went to die. 

You both managed to sneak out without too much disruption from your family. A snarky comment about keeping it clean from your uncle as you shut the door to your house would not deter you, as most things they could say now couldn’t. You two sat in the car for a moment, waiting for it to heat up. He connected his phone, putting on some music to hopefully put the both of you in a better mood. 

The drive was short, with little words being shared beside Wilbur singing along to the music. Neither of you wanted to leave the car, despite the slightly tense atmosphere. After parking, you reached over and grabbed his hand, holding it tightly. 

You scrambled to think of something to say to break the tension. 

Thankfully, Wilbur had you beat, “You used to like filming things.” 

“I- yeah. I still do, I guess. Just don’t have time for it anymore.”

“Would you ever want to do it?”

You thought for a moment. “I mean, yeah, maybe. I’d still love to make a music video or something one day.” 

He nodded, “You could do it. Youtube and stuff, I mean.” 

You sighed, “Will, I just don’t have the time to start. And by the time I can make money from it, it’ll be way too late.”

“I know you want to think about this more, but, all of my Youtube friends need help with people that film that they can trust. If you want to go that route, there are options. Even if it’s not for me or Tommy, I know people. And then it’ll give you time to start your own account, and I can help you with that! I can promote you, even,”

“Not that. If I do it, I don’t want to blow up completely out of nowhere. I’d want to be used to it first.”

“But you’re thinking about it.” 

You laughed, “I’m thinking about it.” 

He raised his other hand in cheers, “That is a win for me. I’ll take it.” 

You laughed, tugging his hand, “C’mon. Let’s go eat.”

You turned the car off, and he quickly bolted out of the car and went to your side to open the door, “Hurry, hurry, it’s freezing out here.”

You laughed, taking his outstretched hand and standing, “You chose to be chivalrous, take your punishment.” 

He let out a whine, tugging you into his arms, “Come here, I need warmth.”

You locked the car, letting out a loud laugh, “Okay, okay,” you wrapped your arms around him, rubbing his back, “Let’s go inside, it’ll be warm in there.”

He nodded, letting go of the hug to pull the both of you inside. You both went to order, and he turned to you while you waited, “What do you think you’ll get?” 

You shrugged, “Probably just a coffee and a muffin. Just something small.”

“Do you still get them the same way?”

You nodded. 

“Alright. Could you do me something then?”

“Uh, depends.” 

The person in front of us moved, making us up at the register. 

“Could you go grab me a napkin? I think I touched some ice or something.” He held his hand up, thumb swiping over his fingers and palm. You knew how he was when it came to weird sensations, so you quickly replied. 

“Oh, sure,” you turned, walking to the sidebar to grab him a napkin. You walked back over to him as he was paying, handing him the napkin.

“Thanks! Also, I ordered and paid for you.” 

You stared at him, shocked for a moment. After a moment, you spoke, “Did you even need a napkin?”

He shook his head quickly, “Just needed you to walk away so I could pay for you.” 

You blinked at him, lightly hitting his arm, “You ass. Don’t do that.”

“What? Pay for you?”

“Yeah.”

“You simply cannot stop me, love.”

You groaned, “I swear to god. I’ll start paying for your shit too.” 

“I’m taller than you, therefore faster. Good luck trying.”

“I hate you so much.”

“Yeah? I don’t think you do,” Wilbur snickered, before lifting a hand to the collar of his sweater. You flushed when he daintily pulled the fabric back to reveal the hickeys you had left on him the night before. You switched your gaze to meet his and he winked, only flustering you further. You pressed your head against his shoulder while he just laughed at you.  

You sighed after you’d calmed a bit, “I’ll find a way to pay you back.”

“You do pay me back. Just by being with me.” 

You hid the way you blushed, “Sappy.”

“Only for you.” 

“Hush. I’ll make you flustered right back.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Well, I c-“

“Order for Wilbur!”

The barista called out, saving Wilbur just in time for the not-exactly publicly appropriate thing preparing to leave your mouth. Wilbur walked forward, grabbing the order for you both and walking to a booth in the far corner by a window. You both sat down, and he passed you your coffee. 

“Light roast latte with caramel?” 

“How do you even remember that?” 

He chuckled, “I just do. I said earlier, I want to memorize you, and that includes all the tiny details. Like your coffee order. And the fact that you prefer regular chocolate chip muffins to the double chocolate chip muffins because you think it’s too much chocolate.” He handed you your muffin after, and you flushed once again. 

“It is too much chocolate.” You spoke simply, not quite sure how to respond. Part of you felt guilty that you didn’t remember these small details about him, so you continued with, “I’ll have to relearn anything I’ve forgotten about you.”

That caused him to flush slightly, “Really?”

“Yeah. Can’t be sharing the pieces of me to a stranger, after all.”

“I’d argue we’re much closer than strangers.”

“True. But I need to have you memorized as you have me.”

He smiled, a gentle smile that told you he was grateful, “That’s true.”

You bit into your muffin. There was a soft smile on your face that you tried to hide by lowering your head. He saw it, though. You knew he did. 

After you finished eating, you took your drinks and returned to the car. You duetting him for the songs you remembered, the old Los Campesinos! he taught you back when Aleksandra was still in the band. You were going to turn to his home but stopped when you saw the street your school resided on. You turned down the street, parking in the old lot between the school and the old church. They were both covered in holiday decorations, a grave reminder of the short time you and Will had together. But you tried not to think of it. 

Instead, you looked at the school, thinking of the day you chose to leave. 

When Wilbur caught sight of you, he spoke up, “Memories?”

You nodded, letting out a sigh, “Thinking of our last day there.”

He nodded, “That was… a day to say the least.”

“It was a good day, for the most part. We were so excited. I just…”

“What is it?” 

“I knew for two weeks that I’d be leaving… I don’t know why I waited until that day to tell you. I spent all day knowing that it was the last day I’d probably see you. I keep thinking that maybe I should’ve told you earlier. Maybe I should’ve done something so that you’d beg me to stay. And things may have gone differently.”

“To be fair, I didn’t exactly take the news well.”

“Well, yeah, but-“

“Do you really think I would’ve let you go? I would’ve been so angry that we wouldn’t have had a good last few weeks or days. I was a petty person, so at least by waiting, we had a good day before the fight.” 

You sighed softly, “I guess so.”

He took your hand, going quiet for a moment before speaking again, “I should have asked you to stay. Instead, I just forced you away because of how angry I was. I should’ve tried harder.” 

“You know I wouldn’t have stayed. I wouldn’t ask you to wait for me after all. I just… wish you could’ve been happy for me. I know we were both yelling a lot, but it did hurt. It was my only way out of the house. I wish you could’ve at least been happy about that.” 

He sighed, “I am, now. Despite the hell hole that London is, it’s better comparatively. I’m just happy for you a bit too late.” He gently reached a hand up, brushing some hair out of your face. 

You took a deep breath, leaning into his hand. “We could talk about should’ve-beens and would’ve-dones until we’re blue. Maybe we should just talk about now.” 

“You think so?”

You nodded, pulling the lever at your seat to recline back. Wilbur did the same, and you turned to face him, getting comfortable. 

“Do you think bees dance to communicate because they find it fun?” He asked after a moment. 

“Sadly, no,” you hummed, “I think because they do it for work, they don’t find dancing fun. They probably find things like conference calls fun. Or paperwork.”

“Do you think they operate on a capitalist or communist type system?”

“They don’t have currency, so neither technically, but closer to communism. If they were capitalists, the bees would’ve gone extinct long ago.”

“Do you think they’re going extinct now because they tried to switch to capitalism?”

You laughed, “That I know is not true. I saw the Bee Movie, they’re dying because humans aren’t getting into weird relationships with them anymore.”

That led Wilbur to burst out laughing, hitting the seat of the car as he laughed. You laughed as well, mostly due to how happy his genuine laugh made you. 

You glance at him between your own laughter, a fond look taking over your features. Once he’d calmed a bit, he made eye contact and smiled, giving you an odd look, “What is it?”

“Hm?”

“Something’s going on in your brain, you’ve never looked at me like that before.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I’m not sure yet. Could be a dangerous thing.”

“Oh, really? Dangerous how?”

“Well, it could make me do this,” he placed a hand on your jaw, gently pulling you in for a kiss. It was a bit awkward, given the lack of support brought on by the gap between your car seats. However, it was warmer than the cold that seeped into the car and that still resided in your chest just by being home. 

He grinned when he pulled back, thumb gently stroking your cheek, “You know, since you’re staying at mine for at least two days, you could be on a stream.”

You chuckled, “At least?”

He nodded, “At least. It’s the bare minimum. My actual estimate is for the next five days,” you only had seven left, “you’re ignoring the point though.”

You thought about it for a moment, “Would I have to be seen?”

“Not if you don’t want to.”

“And what would they know about us?”

“Just that you’re my friend.”

You hummed, “Maybe. Will Tommy be there?”

“Do you want Tommy to be there?”

You snorted, “Not necessarily. Plus, you mentioned that he has a bit of an issue with spilling information.”

“Oh, yes, he does.”

“Well then, we’d better make sure that if I do, he’s not there. Don’t need him making another joke about us snogging.” 

He laughed, “That’s a good point.” 

You smiled softly, “Is your chat nice?”

“To me? No. To guests? Always.”

“Good, I’ll like them then.”

He gasped, “Fuckin’ rude. You’d better side with me. They will try to side with you, so you’d better only side with me.”

“I will do as I so please, Mr. Soot.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“It is.”

“Well, it just so happens that I, too, will do as I please. Which includes this,” he leaned forward, kissing you again. 

You kissed him back lovingly, pulling away with your hand on his cheek this time, “Well, it just so happens then that our interests aligned at that moment.”

“Oh? So you’re saying kissing me pleases you?”

He was trying to make you flustered, but it wouldn’t work this time, “Yes. It does.”

He flushed instead, leaning forward, “Well, if it does, then I’m sure you wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

“Not at all,” You kissed him once again. 

After a routine of kissing and Wilbur breaking to ask his weird questions for about two hours, you two eventually decided to leave the parking lot. However, you took the long route home, the two of you just driving around to see your old hometown. 

“You remembered my love of poetry earlier,” you commented after a moment.

He nodded, “It’s always been big for you, even if it’s something you don’t like to talk about.”

You nodded pensively before continuing, “Have I told you one of my favorite poems?”

“You have a lot so you’d have to be more specific.”

You chuckled softly, “It’s The Road Not Taken by Frost. Have I told it to you before?”

He shook his head, “No, you haven’t.”

You hummed, “It’s much more of a recent favorite. Anyways, I really recommend it. I’d recite it, but-”

“No, do.”

“But I don’t have it perfectly memorized anymore. I used to. I have the last stanza memorized still, but you need the context of the rest of the poem to understand.”

“Let me find it, hold on,” he pulled out his phone and found the poem, beginning to recite it out loud to the both of you. When he reached the final stanza, you joined in:

“I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-

I took the one less traveled by, 

And that has made all the difference.”

He was quiet for a moment as he processed the poem. “So what does it mean?”

“Well,” you started, “it's become a recent favorite because of us. There’s irony throughout the poem. The subject is the road he did not take, the choice he did not make, to the point where he says that instead of telling us he took the common path, he should be telling a story years later about how he took the road less traveled by and it changed his life. I keep thinking about how the road less traveled for us would’ve been me staying, and how different everything may have been. Things could’ve been completely different for us.”

“That’s interesting. I like the poem. But, I really like the path you took.”

“Really?”

He nodded, “think about it. We never talked about the prom kiss until recently. If you’d stayed, we probably never would have. We might’ve just been stuck pining for each other til the end of time.”

“So you wouldn’t change anything? Even the fight?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t, at least not without some sort of guarantee that we’d still end up together. I think we’d always be in each other's lives in some way. But with the way things worked out, we got together, rather than just staying friends,” He sighed appreciatively, “Not to say I wouldn’t be alright with if we’d stayed friends, but at least this way, we have a shot at this. And maybe we would’ve eventually found each other again and got together, and all the hurt wouldn’t have been necessary, but I know I wouldn’t take the chance of changing anything without knowing we’d reach this point again.” 

You stopped at a light, turning to look at him, “It was worth it then? All the loneliness and upset and anger?”

He nodded, smiling softly, “Absolutely, if it meant getting us where we are.” 

You blushed, looking back at the road. You didn’t think he could still make you shy at this point, yet in nearly every conversation he seemed to one-up himself. “I’m glad,” you spoke quietly. He gently squeezed your hand.

You pulled into his driveway, parking quickly and grabbing your bag from the backseat. 

“Let’s go in. I want to get cozy.” You hummed.

He nodded, “Of course. Did you pack your laptop?”

You nodded.

“Want to play Minecraft?” 

The two of you rushed inside from the cold and quickly made a matter of getting as comfortable as possible. You snagged one of his hoodies this time, pulling on a pair of nice sweatpants as well. While he went to get dressed, you snuck downstairs to the kitchen to make hot chocolate for you both. He seemed to be a bit distracted with getting his computer turned on and making space for your laptop, but after a few minutes, you heard his footsteps coming down the stairs. 

“Darling?” 

“In here,” you called out, stirring the milk you’d heated to combine with the chocolate.

He stepped in, wrapping his arms around you gently, “Hot chocolate?

You nodded, leaning your head back against him, “Figured it’d be nice to have a treat while we game. Just like the olden days,” You chuckled.

He grinned, leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek, “Thank you.”

You turned in his arms, smiling up at him, “Of course, Wil. You feelin’ all cozy?”

He nodded, smiling back at you, “Very much so. I got you whitelisted on my server, so we can play together. And if any of my friends join, you could meet them, as well.”

“Oh, yeah? Like who?”

“You could meet my bandmates. Sometimes they’re on around this time. Tommy probably won’t be on, but my friend Quackity might, you’d like him I think. There are some others as well, but some of them I can wait to introduce you to when you visit me in Brighton for the first time, a lot of them live around there. Plus, then you won’t have to see my friend James’s embarrassing Minecraft username.”

“What’s his username?” You laughed.

“JamesDoesMining.”

You burst out laughing, and he did as well. “Don’t even bring it up to him, he will try to defend himself.” 

You leaned up and pecked his lips, “I won’t. Can you grab the mugs?” 

He nodded, leaving the hug to grab two mugs while you turned off the stove, taking the ladle and pouring you and Wilbur’s cups of hot chocolate. 

You both headed upstairs, getting cozy and preparing for a calm night of gaming and being together. 

taglist: @shubblelive / @superioritycomplexes / @your-shifting-gurl (send an ask/dm me if you want to be added)

[shyhaya]

So.. I spent all evening writing this.. I hope it's good. I was feeling inspired, so..

Here's a one-shot following my 'Just to see you again' one. This time, featuring my friend, uppermuse1 's OC!

This is an Upper Moon Two/Douma x OC one-shot. Don't like it, don't read it!

Also, this contains manga spoilers!

« As it was »

─────❀◦❀◦❀─────

Icy blue eyes stared intently at the canvas, looking carefully at the landscape design painted in it. A soft melody could be heard as background noise, as the brunette let out a hum, her brush drawing delicate forms in different colors, all of dark tones that reminded of the night sky. She had been painting for hours now, her body moving just when she needed to dip her brush in another color.

She was there since the sun set; first alone, until her long time friend had come to visit her. Hatsumi humored Yushiro for a few hours, chatting about how each of them had been doing the past month. However, after dawn, he had retired to his own home. Although normally stern with his friend, Yushiro always knew when she wanted to concentrate and be alone.

In the past, this fact may have made him inclined to stay, knowing the fragile mentality she had the first few years on her own. But this time, Hatsumi seemed content, relaxed and most of all.. happy. Like, genuinely happy. This left him feeling good, to know she would be fine. And so, he left her in the same spot she now was, totally focused on her what she was drawing on her canvas.

Just when the alarm in her phone went off, showing it was currently 4:45 in the morning did Hatsumi stand up from her seat, stretching her non aching muscles to go and take a bath, deciding to sleep for a while but knowing it was going to be difficult. It was funny to her, how a century ago she wanted to sleep all the time instead of facing reality every night. And now, she couldn't wait for this day to pass.

She thought about this as she was finishing her night-morning routine, chuckling softly at the irony. How curious it was, that the same thing -people- that she missed and made her so sorrowful before is now the very same reason she was so happy now. Honestly, Hatsumi at first didn't believe she would be happy again. Now, it was almost surreal.

And as she had predicted, sleep evaded her for maybe more than half an hour, but she still fell unconscious after much tossing around.

─────❀◦❀◦❀─────

Hatsumi wandered carefully around the enormous state as different people, from young men and women to elderly people went on with their day. She had been there for two days now, and even though she was confident in her ability to disguise herself, the brunette had a feeling someone was watching her. If her suspicions were right, this was a fact.

Normally, the sighting or presence of a demon wouldn't have swayed her to investigate further but she had grown curious. In her travels a considerable amount of people had mentioned a special place for troubled individuals or just anyone that needed a home or some divine guidance. Some had commented how it was weird that people they knew went there to never be seen again, while others said nothing wrong was there.

This had been enough for Hatsumi to finally visit the Eternal Paradise Cult. And as she suspected, a demon was residing there, among the humans.

It wasn't difficult to realize this demon was a powerful one, and after her first day she had a hunch that there were possibly two demons. This made things harder for her, because if she could feel them then they certainly could feel her. Hatsumi decided to get out of there, but before she could even think of walking towards she exit, she was pinned to the wall by the throat.

« Where did he come from?! Wasn't there people a few seconds ago?! »

Her instincts were overwhelming her with the need to do something, anything to save herself from dying, but instead of surrending to panic she tried to focus. The demon restricting her was powerful, that Hatsumi could perfectly notice even though he didn't have the characteristic kanji in his eyes, so he couldn't be a lower nor an upper moon, fortunately for her.

He seemed to be a little bit taller than her, with red/white hair that covered his right eye. The left was of a purple color, and golden marks adorned his cheek and neck. He was wearing a mostly black with red outfit and a thin tail swayed back and forth behind him, almost like a cat's. He was growling at her while his sharp nails cut the skin of her neck, no doubt he wanted to end her, but she would at least try to do something to avoid it.

"What is a weakling such as yourself doing here? Speak now or I will kill you."

Hatsumi tried to calm herself down before answering, something that proved to be complicated when she was being overpowered like this. Still, she made an effort.

"I was just.. curious.. about this place.. because I've heard humans talking.. and saying how people.. specially women.. went missing.. that's all.."

The only eye visible in the demon's face narrowed. He probably didn't believe her, but she was talking the truth and he seemed to be thinking about it.

"You blend in with humans well, and you feel.. different. Is that really your only goal?"

Once she nodded, the redhead let her go but instantly grabbed her right wrist, ordering her to be quiet and follow him if she didn't want to die. Of course, Hatsumi agreed silently and walked behind him, feeling the wounds on her neck healing. She looked around, not finding any humans; this was weird but she didn't question this out loud, until they arrived to a fancy looking door, where he knocked three times before calling.

"Brother? There's something we need to discuss. May I go inside?"

From inside the room, a cheery male voice answered.

"Of course! Come in Akemi! And please, bring in our guest~"

Hatsumi flinched. The other demon was already aware of her presence and what she felt was so.. strong. It wouldn't surprise her if this demon turned out to be one of the Twelve Moons. Clenching the skirt of her kimono, the brunette stepped inside the room after the redhead tugged her.

"So she's the one who sneaked here~ she's cute. Don't you think so, little brother?~"

The one she now recognized as Akemi made her kneel down, and she heard him scoff as the other, more cheery demon approached them.

"She's weak. And I'm sure you know this too.. she is not like us. I don't trust her."

Hatsumi heard a light chuckle, before the other demon -Akemi's older brother- leaned and lifted her chin with a fan. The first thing she saw was the rainbow in his eyes, the different colors clashing beautifully in his orbs, before her own eyes widened when she noticed the kanji craved in them.

"You are right Akemi, but she is so.. interesting~"

« Upper Moon Two.. just my luck.. »

Said demon grinned with false happiness at her, and Hatsumi was surprised but intrigued by how.. empty he seemed.

"What is your name, lovely?"

The blue eyed demoness took a few seconds to process his question, too trapped in her fear and fascination.

"Hatsumi.. my name's Hatsumi. What about yours, Upper Moon Two?"

The words escaped her before she noticed what she had said. The blonde in front of her stared into her eyes, a brief sparkle of curiosity lighting in his orbs. His grin widened.

"You may call me Douma. It is a pleasure to meet you, Hatsumi-chan~ I know we'll get along just fine~ Don't you think so too, Akemi?"

The redhead looked at the blonde, surprise evident in his eye. His expression said he wanted to refuse, but he contained himself.

"So.. we're keeping her?"

Douma gave him a nod, smiling as a little child would when someone gifts them a new toy. Akemi sighed, and Hatsumi wondered what did they mean with 'keeping her'.

"Well Hatsumi-chan, it seems you'll live with us for a while!~"

She just hoped it wouldn't be anything bad.

─────❀◦❀◦❀─────

Hatsumi woke up slowly, blinking a few times to make sure she was completely awake. She tended to wake in the middle of her rest by a nightmare; so to awake peacefully after dreaming about her first encounter with the two people she loved most in her life was so shocking and wonderful.. that her eyes glossed over with tears as a nostalgic smile formed on her lips.

She stayed like that for some minutes, just replaying her dream/memory and shedding some tears. Yes, maybe how they met wasn't ideal, but she treasured every moment they spent together, no matter what happened. The brunette sighed and sat up, doing a couple of stretches as she had grown accustomed. Then, she took her phone -she really admired the humans that created them- and checked the time.

« 12:00 pm.. »

"I slept for so long? That's new.. Well, at least I have enough time to get ready."

She mumbled to herself, starting her daily routine. She made her bed and went to the kitchen to get her rations. Then, she entered her room again to pick her outfit. She choose something nice but casual, rearranging her closet out of nervousness. Maybe this wasn't the first time she went out with him -they had done so once a week for the past month- but this time was different. This time the two of them will be present.. Hatsumi was excited and scared.

« What if he hates me..? I mean, he hated me before but.. will it be the same? Everything has changed now. I don't want to be trapped in the past.. although they look exactly the same as back then.. »

The brunette questioned in her inner dialogue, pouting. She glanced at the phone again and shook her head, deciding to not dwell on the subject anymore as to not stress herself. She was happy to be reunited with them, and that was all that mattered. With that in mind, she walked to her little art studio, looking at the painting she'd been working on a few hours earlier. It was almost complete. Hatsumi figured she could finish it when she returned home that evening.

She spent the rest of the time reading a book and chatting with Yushiro. The hours went by extremely slow for her, until it was finally time to get ready; she took a quick shower and dressed herself, looking through the window of the living room to see if the sun had set already. When she deemed it was safe for her to go outside, she grabbed her purse and coat before putting on her shoes, noticing she had a message from him, a simple 'On my way with Akemi! Can't wait to see you! <3'.

Hatsumi smiled tenderly, forgetting her nerves and walking through the snow covered streets. Winter would always be her favorite season of the year. It was so festive and beautiful, and the little snowflakes reminded her of the two she cherishes so much. She wore her coat even though she didn't get cold, looking at the sky and loving Winter a lot more because with it's weather the sun was covered most of the time, making it easier for her to go out.

As she arrived at their meeting spot -a park with pretty Sakura trees that waited for spring to make them bloom- Hatsumi looked around for them, soon seeing two very familiar figures in the distance. She smiled sweetly as they neared her. Her blue eyes softened when glancing upon Akemi. He was the same as she remembered. His most demonic traits were gone and his skin was flushed pink by the cold, but he was the same. His eyes were the pretty purple color she liked and he still covered one of them with his red hair.

Being completely honest, Hatsumi had seen pictures of him before. But to meet him again in person, to stare at his grumpy but curious expression and to see him beside his brother.. all this almost made her break into tears. Her heart was beating fast, she felt warm. She felt whole again. All those years waiting and asking whatever superior being was up there if she really would see them again were now justified. To feel like this again. Every last second of pain was worth it to her.

"Hatsumi-chan! I missed you darling!~"

She was pulled out of her thoughts when the blonde suddenly wrapped his arms around her. The brunette laughed and hugged him back, nuzzling into his chest, enjoying his warmth as one of the things that confirmed her he was fully human. She pulled away slightly to press a chaste kiss on his cheek, smiling widely when he looked at her and she saw a speck of emotion in his rainbow eyes.

"Douma-san we saw each other last Sunday, don't you remember?"

Hatsumi felt the urge to laugh when his cheery expression changed to a cute pout.

"I do remember.. but that was so long ago! Do you know how excited I was to see you and to have you meet my little brother?"

She nodded, fully parting from the hug to look at Akemi, whose face practically screamed 'get a goddamn room', she bowed her head as a greeting. The redhead got closer.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Akemi-kun. Your brother has told me much about you."

The younger of the three made a slight bow, sighing softly as he looked at her.

"Likewise.. Hatsumi-san. Even though I still question my brother's decisions, it is quite pleasant to see you are.. decent."

His words were expected, and Hatsumi felt happy to know he was the same tsundere she knew before. She maintained her smile.

"I am glad you think so. I hope we can get along."

Akemi looked briefly surprised, but quickly regained his composure, adverting his eyes.

"We'll see about that.."

She heard his little mumble, but didn't comment on it, focusing instead on the amused expression on Douma's face as he watched them interact. The three then walked together to a café to buy some hot drinks, where the blonde offered to go order for all of them, indiscreetly leaving Hatsumi and Akemi alone so they could talk.

"Akemi-kun, is there something you want to tell me?"

Her question seemed to take him by surprise, as he only looked at her for a few seconds.

"Why are you being so nice?"

She tilted her head confusedly. He sighed and looked down.

"You've been going out with my brother for a month now.. and everytime he returns home he talks about you like.. like you really understand him. Like you.. honestly like him. Earlier too. You acted nice."

She smiled warmly.

"You think I'm not genuine with my feelings? That I'm using your brother?"

Akemi stared at her with narrowed eyes.

"I don't trust you. This has happened before. How can I know if you're honest?"

Hatsumi hummed softly, her gaze never wavering.

"I don't know. I can't tell you a way for you to be certain about me.. but I lo- like Douma very much.. More than I've liked anyone in my life. I feel connected to him. Like it was.. meant to be. And with you. I've heard so much about you, I'm fond of you already."

Now it was his turn to look confused at her words.

"How can you say that?"

─────❀◦❀◦❀─────

He had asked her the same question long ago on a Winter night. They were outside, not too far from the cult's place. Hatsumi had said she wanted to get some fresh air, and both brothers accompanied her. It had been.. at least a year since she had sneaked into their home. A year, and she no longer felt like a prisoner.

It was kind of ironic that when they were not doing anything besides looking at the sky and walking around, some slayers stumbled upon them. The humans had quickly pointed their swords to them, scared but willing to fight. And maybe it was because her instinct told her to move or because she didn't want anyone to get harm, but Hatsumi had tried to fight the slayers, getting a pretty bad injury in the process until her companions had killed the slayers. Even when she didn't attack to kill, she had defended them.

"Are you stupid or what?! Why did you do that?!"

She had winced as Akemi yelled at her. His brother watched her injury slowly heal itself.

"He is right Hatsumi-chan. We are strong, you know? You could have been beheaded! Not that I would have let them~ But what possessed you to do that?~"

Douma had talked to her in his everlasting false happy tone, but there was something different about it, a subtle change at the end, as well as a strange sparkle in his eyes. Hatsumi stared at the ground.

"I just.. I didn't want you to get hurt.."

Her tone had been shy, and she could feel Akemi's stern glare.

"How can you say that? We can protect ourselves."

Hatsumi looked at them with a tender gaze.

"Because I care both for your brother and you. I'd rather let myself be hurt than let anyone hurt you two."

Both brothers had been shocked by her confession, and in that moment something shifted in them. They looked at each other briefly, confirming they had thought the same. Douma cupped her cheek, staring at her with an amused and not so fake smile.

"You don't have to worry about that darling~ We won't be defeated that easily~"

He helped her stand up and they returned home. When they were arriving, Akemi turned around to face her, an expression she had never seen before on his face.

"Thank you for what you said.. but don't worry about us. We are the ones who should look out for you.. You won't get hurt again."

Hatsumi smiled tenderly at him after she got out of her initial shock, nodding her head. Akemi returned to his usual attitude when he saw her so moved.

"But it's not that I care for you.. You're just weak."

The redhead said, going on his way. But even if he denied it, the brunette knew he cared.

─────❀◦❀◦❀─────

Hatsumi went back to the present time, still a little stunned by how similar Akemi's question and demeanor had been to the first time he said that. She focused on him again, giving the answer she felt was right.

"Because I care both for your brother and you. I'm not asking you to believe me now, but I promise you I'd rather let myself be hurt than hurt you two."

Akemi looked at her, not knowing exactly what to say to that.

"You.. you really meant that..?"

The brunette nodded, staring at him with the same warmth she always had reserved for them.

"I do. I mean it."

His eyes stared down again, as he thought about her words. Hatsumi let him take his time. It wouldn't matter how much it took, she'll win his trust.

"Then.. I suppose I'll try to believe you.."

She smiled widely at that, and continued to do so the rest of the evening. They walked her home, with the brunette and the blonde scheduling their next date while Akemi looked at them with a deadpan. Then, they said their goodbyes and the two brothers left. Hatsumi watched them go and went to her art studio to finish her painting, suddenly inspired.

"And~ did you like her? Isn't she the best?~"

Akemi looked at Douma and sighed.

"If she makes you happy, then it's okay for me.."

The older of the two giggled, knowing very well his little brother was growing fond of her. Meanwhile, Akemi stared forward again, thinking about what she said and how familiar it was to him. Like his brother said when he first mentioned her.. 'It's like I already know her.' A small smile appeared on his lips.

"She's not so bad I guess.."

─────❀◦❀◦❀─────

A few hours later, Hatsumi grinned contently at her finished work. She signed it and wrote something at the bottom. The painting was a beautiful night sky, with stars and a bright crescent moon. There was also a hill illuminated by the moonlight, where three little figures stood. The way they were designed made them look like they belonged together. The brunette gave it one last look before walking out of the room.

At the bottom of the canvas, there was written:

'Where my heart belongs.'

Finally! I finished! I was so excited by this one-shot I just couldn't stop writing~ ^^

Anyways, I hope you liked it <3

Dedicated to @uppermuse1

Your OC and you have inspired me a lot. I'm so glad to have you as a friend :3

[huuxy]

So... I need to vent.

Our dog, 11 years old, passed a few months ago due to sickness (and also old age) and we didn't want a dog for a while.

First, because we have 6 cats, which is already a huge burden financially and other ways. We do love them ofc, but I admit it's a lot and it's very draining.

Second, because of the tiny human who was born last year November.

But this summer an acquaintance called us saying he found an abandoned dog next to the highway, and if we could adopt her. The dog needed help. We're people who can't turn our backs on anyone needing help. We were like, alright. Well give this dog a home. We'll try not to get too attached though. We'll give her the best food, toys, a giant backyard and a warm place to sleep. But we can't spend too much time with her, due to the above mentioned reasons. But still, it will be better for her than the other options she had.

It went well. For a while. Then she started throwing up. Vet said she was sensitive to her food. We donated the huge bulk of food we bought and got new food. She was fine for a while. Then she got worse again. Vet said, she must have eaten something weird in the backyard. Possible, I said. She's a very stupid dog honestly. We tried to put her on a diet. Got better, then worse. Nothing stayed in her anymore. Vet again. X-ray showed she has megaoesophagus.

The diagnosis wad bad in itself, but we had to find out if food can even reach her stomach at all, or if it's fully closed. There was only one doctor who did endoscopy in the country. 2 and an half hours drive from here, in the capital. Ok, we got an appointment, even though we're already in negative money-wise.

So, she was tested and the vet did the endoscopy. Her stomach was cleaned and she was sent home. Now she has to be fed 4-5 times a day tiny amounts and has to be held vertically for at least 20 minutes after that.

Yep.

The dog we didn't have time to get attached to, because we were busy, now has to be fed in a special way. And what's worse, she's issued to be an indoor dog from now on. She, who's a very much outdoorsy dog. This is horrible in every way. I can't afford staying still with the dog 20 minutes 5 times a day while tiny human is nyooming around the house hurting himself or who knows what else. The dog will go crazy indoors. The cats will go crazy if the dog is there. Vet bills already made sure we don't have a Christmas anymore, but we still have to keep bringing her to regular check ups.

So honestly I just want to scream.

We wanted to do something good. Take in the dog even though we were still mourning over the loss of our old dog and while trying to adjust being a 3 member family. But now I feel suffocated. I'm already depressed over not having time to draw and forgetting how to draw in general. Now as it seems, if I even have any free time in the future, it will be spent on keeping the dog alive. I love the dog, but I can't help feeling dreaded by this. She's 8 months old. So as it seems, we'll have about 10 years of special treatment for a dog we barely had time for in the first place.

And above all this, I'm sick for 2 weeks. The sickness is kinda over, but the infection went to my ears and I cannot hear almost anything for more than a week now. All this while tiny human is also being sick. I can barely even hear when he's crying and needing me...

I'm drained. I'm soooooo drained.

[thefloatingstone]

Today not only did I get my 2nd ever payment from Daddy G, proving that the first payment was NOT a fluke thanks to one video doing good, but I also got a comment saying "It's criminal that you don't have more views."

So this Youtube thing is going pretty ok, I think!

Although getting actual real world money from youtube still feels a bit like "???? IS THIS ALLOWED???"

[hederasgarden]

Interlinked - Part 1

Summary: Stepping in to help K is instinct, but what comes after is a choice, one that’s easy to make. Pairing: Officer K x F!Reader Word Count: 1.9K Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Violence, reference to mistreatment and abuse, angst, and touch starved Officer K. Part 2 will include smut. A/N: Thank you @Maddiecaffeinated for your plot help and for N, @butaneandthebeast and @elusivewildflower for looking this over.

Please reblog or comment if you enjoyed!

It’s raining.

Again.

The cold, damp air seeps through your jacket and you sigh. You’re tired of the trash in the streets and the press of too many bodies. You long for something different, a ticket off-world or an apartment somewhere north of the urban sprawl and constant gray. You might dislike some of the rich families you work for but you appreciated the clean air and sheer amount of space their money afforded. The kitchens you spent your days in were open and modern, filled with the kind of fresh food you could only dream of buying for yourself.

Some of the families were kind, allowing you to take home leftovers, the produce they deemed too wilted and meat that had lost its vibrancy. Today your bag is full, weighed down with bread that’s gone a little stale and a variety of fresh vegetables. You’re caught up in planning the stew you’ll make tonight with your prized possessions when a commotion on the stairs stops you.

It’s your neighbor, the LAPD officer, and the old polish woman who's always screaming at everyone. You look up in time to catch her striking him hard across the face with her cane, screaming about how no one wants him in the building. His head is tilted to the side, gaze downcast. Blood flows freely from a cut on his brow. Dirt and dried streaks of red are caked to the side of his face; there’s a deep scratch on his neck and more blood. He looks awful.

“Mrs. Novak!” Your voice is sharper than you intend, drawing more than just her eye, but your tone has the desired effect. Her raised arm stills, surprise written all over her wrinkled face. “Please,” you say softer, stumbling up the few steps it takes to draw even with your neighbor. He doesn’t acknowledge you, staring intently at some spot on the floor.

“Girl,” she spits at you, lip curled back over rotten teeth.

“I have some bread, would you like that?” You offer her, reaching into your bag. Even though you were looking forward to it all day you know it’s your best bet to distract her from the man beside you. It wasn’t uncommon to hear whispered disdain for him or the ever-present slurs hurled at him. Someone had taken the time to deface his door weeks ago but you’ve never seen anyone get physical with him before.

“Here, take it,” you encourage, relaxing once she lowers her cane and greedily reaches for the bread, the focus of her earlier rage all but forgotten.

“Is it real?” She asks, bringing it to her nose and inhaling deeply.

With her distracted, you touch the man’s arm. He lifts his head and his cool blue eyes meet yours, though his face stays blank. He blinks once and you remove your hand. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he says.

“We should go while she is distracted,” you suggest, waiting for him to move before you follow him up the steps.

His gait is slow but steady, weariness etched into the lines of his shoulders. When you get to your floor he stops, allowing you to precede him. He keeps a respectable distance from you though you’re aware of him and the weight of his gaze. It’s not until you’re unlocking your door that he speaks, voice low enough it’s almost lost to the clamor of people in the hallway.

“Thank you.”

He disappears into his apartment before you can respond.

You spend the next hour preparing dinner and washing the day away. As much as you try to forget the incident your mind keeps wandering back to your neighbor and the scene on the steps. You stir the soup and breathe in the warm, soothing aroma. There’s enough for at least two servings, three if you stretch it. Plenty to share.

Before you can reconsider, you ladle out a generous portion into an old container and slip your shoes back on. The hallway is less crowded than when you got home but there are still more eyes on you than you care for. You knock on his door and wait, shifting from foot to foot. It opens just a crack. Your neighbor's handsome face greets you, clean of blood and dirt though there's a shallow cut on his forehead. If he is surprised he doesn’t show it, staring at you blankly.

“I had some extra soup leftover,” you start, gesturing with your free hand. “It’s got fresh, honest to god vegetables and some tofu. I thought maybe you'd like some. It's pretty good… not to sound conceited. I’m, um, a chef…” you trail off.

“Don't you know what I am?” He asks.

“You’re my neighbor,” you reply.

You know that’s not what he means. Everyone in the building knows exactly what he is and who he works for but that's never mattered to you. Replicants are no less deserving of kindness and respect. You’d been on the receiving end of that type of disdain by the nature of your job and you never wanted anyone to feel that way.

“If you don’t want it, that’s fine. I just… wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You take a step back at the same time he opens the door wider, allowing you to catch a glimpse of his gray sweatpants and bare, muscled arms. He’s attractive but then again all the replicants they made these days were, even the ones not designed for pleasure. You give him the bowl, his fingertips brushing over the back of your hand. An unexpected jolt of electricity passes under your skin and your hand tingles. He lifts the lid to smell the rising steam, eyes closing briefly.

“Thank you.”

You nod, feeling a little awkward. You take a step back and bump into a young woman hurrying down the hall. She looks between the two of you, nose wrinkling when she sees who you’re talking to.

“You’re welcome…” You trail off, realizing you don’t know his name.

“You can call me K.”

You give him your name and he repeats it back quietly. With an awkward wave, you return to your apartment across the hall and pause at the door to glance over your shoulder at him. He hasn’t moved, watching you still with an expression you can’t identify. You smile and disappear inside.

Two days pass before you see K again. There’s a sharp knock at your door shortly after 7 pm and you crack it open, surprised to see it’s him. He looks like he just came from work, wearing the same jacket you saw him in previously. His hair and clothes are damp from the rain.

“I wanted to return this,” he tells you, offering the container you gave him the soup in.

When you take it, it’s heavier than it should be, and something rattles inside. You open the lid, surprised to see a Lily-of-the-valley lucite flower resting at the bottom. It’s beautiful and each bell-shaped white bud is intricately crafted, hanging down from a single bright green stem. When you look back at K he averts his gaze.

“I didn’t know what you’d like.”

“It’s beautiful,” you promise him, holding it up to admire it. You’re not sure what to say and you think he doesn’t either. The silence between you is heavy. Somewhere down the hall, a baby cries and a man yells. K’s eyes dart sharply to the side, searching and watchful. You take the opportunity to consider him, taking in the shadowy stubble over his jaw and the various healing bruises and marks on his face and neck. Once again you’re overcome by an odd impulse to soothe something in him that you don’t quite understand.

“Would you like to join me for dinner? It won't be like the last time,” you’re quick to warn him as he returns to face you. There was nothing fresh to cook with tonight, only the synthetic meat and noodles you normally had.

K blinks and stares at you for long enough that you’re sure he will decline. “Okay,” he finally agrees, glancing down the hall again before following you inside.

“Take a seat wherever,” you offer, heading into the kitchen.

It’s strange to have someone in your space, moreso since you can’t recall a time when it wasn’t just you. You can see him taking in your cluttered apartment and all the things you collected over the years in an attempt to make it homey. Rich people often threw out perfectly good items, although some were kind enough to offer it to you instead, so you had a number of nice things you couldn’t otherwise afford, including a rack full of spices that would have cost you a month's salary.

A quick check on the pot tells the broth is nearly ready, just needing a pinch more salt. You drop in the noodles and shredded synthetic protein. You step back and bump into K, his hands coming up to brace against your hips. He’s quick to pull them away with a murmured apology and when you turn around he averts his gaze like a beaten dog.

You reach and touch his shoulder instinctively, wanting to ease the pain you see. “It’s okay,” you assure him.

K stares at your hand on his coat, brows knitted together. It strikes you suddenly that people probably don’t touch him with any kindness. Wordlessly, he steps back and disappears into the main room. You gather two bowls and fill them with the fragrant soup. K stands when you approach the table, but you wave off his help and set everything down. He still only sits when you do. Dinner is quiet and a little awkward. You catch him staring at you between bites and the conversation you share consists mostly of your need to fill the silence.

“Sorry, I’m talking a lot,” you apologize, setting down your spoon.

He shakes his head. “No. It’s… nice,” he admits softly.

For a second you think he might say something more but then he stares down at his bowl, silent again. After dinner he helps you clean up, working beside you in the small kitchen in a way that’s surprisingly comfortable. Once everything is dried and put away you walk him to the door. You pause there, considering a thought you’ve had most of the evening.

“Maybe,” you start hesitantly, “you could come over for dinner again sometime.”

A part of you knows it’s not smart to spend time with K. You’ve kept your head down these last five years, working hard and saving the money you need to create a better life. Another part of you doesn’t care, tired of always being alone and drawn to him in a way you can’t explain.

He’s staring at you again, unblinking and intense. “Okay.” He says the single word without any emotion. You rub your hands together nervously. He notices the action, head tilted to the side.

“Only if you want to though,” you add.

“I do.”

You nod and he squeezes past you into the hall. At his door he looks over his shoulder. He watches you for a long moment and you stare back, waiting. He smiles, the expression transforming his face and your heart catches at how different he looks. Handsome and unburdened. It only lasts a few moments but you return it with a soft one of your own.

Part 2

[ahsxkatano]

Where I Can’t Follow

author’s note: see, I told you guys this was going to come out at an ungodly hour. it is 5:30am as I am writing this note out. Also, it’s my 21st birthday, so this is my party favor for y’all. There are a few time jumps in this chapter, but I hope you guys enjoy! -Del ✨

masterlist | series masterlist | prev | next

pairing: Morpheus x Reader

request: no

warnings: shitty spouse says shitty things

word count: 5,402

Chapter Three: Escapism

(Y/N) winced as they scanned the page, this was part of their story that they wished they could forget…that awful marriage with the miserable Elliot Charles. Though the amount of time they had actually spent together was minuscule compared to the amount of life (Y/N) had lived, Elliot still left a bad taste in their mouth. However, one good thing came from their relationship.

It brought (Y/N) closer to the man they actually loved.

After the Charles family left, they had spent the entire night arguing.

The entire night locked in a screaming match with both their parents, begging, pleading to do anything else to get out of the marriage they wanted no part in.

But all of their yelling fell on deaf ears.

For once, (Y/N) could not bring themself to dream. There was very little time left in the night for starters, but the pain (Y/N) felt weighing down on their chest was unbearable. Clutching onto their pillow tightly, fresh tears stain their sheets. And for the first time in their life…

They felt utterly hopeless.

The next morning comes by quickly, (Y/N) still in the same position on their bed, refusing to move. One of the handmaidens comes and tries to coax them out of their bed, claiming to have made one of the favorite pastries, but they still cannot bring themself to move. It isn’t until their mother comes slamming through the door and practically yanks them from their bed.

Their mother helps them dress for the wedding, and silence sits between the two. (Y/N) refuses to meet their mother’s eyes, their own orbs fixated on the wooden floor. A gentle tug at their shoulder brings them back into focus.

“You look wonderful, darling. Elliot is very lucky to have you.” She says quietly, adjusting (Y/N)’s clothing. A frown remains present on their face. Their mother lets out a sigh. “You know, you’re going to have to talk at some point. This is happening. Just be grateful that it’s happening at your age and not my own.” Their frown deepens.

“Did you try to fight back when you found out you were to marry father?” Their mother stiffens, before scoffing.

“Of course not, it was a mut-”

“Mutually beneficial arrangement.” (Y/N) finishes. “But you’re honestly telling me that at 13…you really were okay with marrying father?” They think back to the book they had read in that library, wondering if for once she would be honest with them. Their mother let out a small sigh.

“Not at first.” She murmurs, but any sense of emotion their mother had seems to wash away immediately. “But, I realized that I had to do this for my family, as do you.” With that, they pat (Y/N)’s shoulders, stepping back from them. “We need to leave, don’t want you to be late on your own wedding day.”

(Y/N) barely remembers registering what the priest was saying. All they could hear was a ringing in their ears, as they stood in front of Elliot…the person who was very shortly about to be their spouse. Elliot seemed to look just as nervous. Their eyes shifted towards the mostly empty seats in the church. The only ones attending seemed to be both of their parents.

“(Y/N)...”

Their eyes snap forward. The priest pauses momentarily, giving them a funny look. “Something the matter?” A frown forms on their face. Wasn’t he the one that just called them? Quickly, they shake their head.

“N-No, sorry.” The priest seemed to roll his eyes before continuing to read from his book. They could have sworn someone had just called their name. Their brows furrow.

“(Y/N).”

Their eyes look forward again, this time trying not to draw any attention to themself. Someone is calling them. Or maybe these are just the beginning signs of madness. Honestly, they would take either option.

“(Y/N)!”

The voice sounds more insistent now. (Y/N)’s eyes glance at Elliot’s. Then something estranged happened. There seemed to be some kind of movement, happening on the wall just behind Elliot. Their eyes shift focus to the sudden movement. The wall seems to ripple, almost like a pond when one skidded a rock across it. (Y/N) looks around the room to see if anyone else notices, but all eyes are focused on just the two of them.

“You know you don’t belong here…you’ve always known…”

The voice sends a shiver down their back. Their attention is back on the wall, as it begins to morph itself into something new.

The door.

The dark oak door appears before them again, illuminated by the gold sigils painted across it. There is a slight audible pop, and the door begins to creek open again.

“Come, (Y/N)...forget this life…”

(Y/N) bites their lip. No one still seems to notice the door. Were they dreaming? There is no reason for this door to be real right now unless perhaps they WERE dreaming and just having a god-awful nightmare.

They feel a sudden pinch on their hand.

(Y/N)’s eyes readjust to the person in front of them. Elliot gives them a sheepish look.

“It’s your turn.” They whisper. (Y/N) cocks their head to the side.

“My turn?” Elliot nods.

“You know…to say the thing.” (Y/N) blinks for a moment, before turning to the priest, who gives them an annoyed look.

“Well?” He grumbles out. Quickly, their eyes glance back to the wall. The door is gone. They let out a quiet sigh. Guess running away was no longer an option.

“I do…”

The rest of the ceremony wrapped up quickly, and the now conjoined families celebrated with a huge feast at the Charles’ estate. But (Y/N) didn’t feel like celebrating, and from the looks of it, neither did Elliot. However, it was at this dinner that they both learned that all of (Y/N)’s things had been moved into the Charles’ guest house, where the two newlyweds would now live.

How could this day get any worse?

Their first night together had to have been the most painful for them. They both lay in their now shared bed, staring up at the ceiling, refusing to exchange any sort of glances at each other. As much as (Y/N) tried to combat their sleep, they soon fell victim to it.

(Y/N) finds themself in a void this time around. There is nothing there. It is just their body seemingly floating through the never-ending pitch-black space that seems to surround them. A frown crosses their features. Not even one of their dreams could lighten their mood.

Of course, that’s when that damned door makes its grand appearance again. However, a noticeable lack of talking this time around. A small smile graces their features.

Maybe saying hello to a certain brooding King of Dreams might make this day somewhat better.

Having nothing really to push themselves off of to get them closer, slowly, their body drifts towards the door. Being just a few inches away from it, the door’s audible creak rings in (Y/N)’s ears. They force their body through the door, excitement coursing through their veins.

But instead of seeing the library’s shelves like before, they seem to find themselves falling.

However, it wasn’t a long fall, as their back soon made contact with something hard and flat. They let out a groan, as their eyes close tightly. They could hear footsteps quickly approaching.

“You sure have a way with making an entrance, Mx. (L/N).” A familiar voice mumbles. Their eyes slowly peak open, greeted by Lucienne, who is currently looking at them with a raised brow and crossed arms. “Are you alright?” (Y/N) props themself up, realizing they had landed on a wooden table.

“I think I’ll live.” They push themself off the table, wiping some dust from their clothes. “That damn door apparently wants to cause nothing but trouble today…” They grumbled.

“You came through the door again?” She asks with a troubled look. (Y/N) just nods.

“It appeared to me while I was awake today, during my-” They cut themself off, grimacing. During my wedding. Lucienne cocks her head to the side. “During a family event…” They mumble. Lucienne nods, a frown forming on her features.

“I see, Lord Morpheus will need to hear about this.” (Y/N) looked confused.

“Who?” She gives them a funny look.

“Did that fall damage your head? I thought you had met him previously.”

“Wasn’t his name Dream?” They question. Lucienne nods.

“The Lord has many names.” She looks down, writing something on her clipboard. “We still haven’t been able to figure out what exactly this door is, and why it is appearing to you specifically, but I’m sure we…he will find some sort of lead soon.” She mumbles. (Y/N)’s gaze shifts to around the room, noticing the lack of a certain someone’s presence.

“Is he here? I can tell him what happened.” Lucienne shakes her head.

“Unfortunately, his lordship is out attending to his duties.” (Y/N) feels their face drop. So much for that. Lucienne seems to notice the shift in their demeanor. “You are still free to stay, of course, we have plenty of books here at the library.” (Y/N)’s eyes shifted back to the room.

It was quite the sight.

They were sure that this was the most amount of books they had ever seen. They were also sure that they would at least need centuries to read every single book that was there. But they also noticed the piles and piles of books that had been stacked up on the sides, left on the tables, and even some on the floor.

“Actually, do you think you need any help around the library?” They ask, much to Lucienne’s surprise. “I have a feeling I am going to be here a lot more.”

“You don’t need to do that, Mx. (L/N). You are a guest here in the Dreaming.” They shake their head.

“Please, call me (Y/N). And as much as I would love to read every book in here, I would also like to help a friend out!” They smile at the smaller woman. “Plus, it’s not fair to you to have to do all of this by yourself! Please, I would love to help you with the library.” The woman seems to look off, contemplating their offer.

“You’d be wise to take their help, Lucienne.” That voice. “They don’t seem like the type to take no for an answer. Do you, (Y/N)?” Quickly, they turn so fast they practically give themself whiplash. A small smile forms on their face, as their eyes are greeted by the King of Dreams. He stood behind them, the tiniest glint of an amused expression on his normally stoic face. “Good to see you again, (Y/N).”

“And you too, Dream! Or I guess it’s Morpheus.” Their eyes tear away from the man. “Lord Morpheus?” The man raised an eyebrow, before (Y/N) meets his eyes again. “What exactly is your name? Lucienne says you have many, but, what was your original? Or what do you prefer?” An amused glint returns to his eyes.

“I do have many names, but you may call me whichever you prefer.” They pout.

“That’s not really an answer.” They grumble, before thinking for a moment. They clap their hands together, a mischievous glint in their eyes. “How about Mr. Surly Cat?” His face fell, and (Y/N) could swear they could see Lucienne try to bite back a giggle.

“Out of the question.” They let out a sigh.

“You’re no fun! Fine,” They fall into a bow, looking up at the man with a small smirk on their face. “Lord Morpheus, it is a pleasure to see you again.” Morpheus let out a sigh, but his eyes betrayed the annoyance he was trying to convey.

“You always act this way, don’t you?”

“Only with the ones I enjoy spending time with.” (Y/N) stands back up, flashing a smile at the two. “And I’ve loved every moment I have spent with you both so far.” The ghost of a smile appears on Morpheus’s lips. (Y/N)’s body begins to feel lighter. They look down at their hands, shocked to see that they seem to be transparent.

“You seem to be waking up.” Their eyes met again.

“I guess so. Until next time, my Lord.” They tease, before turning towards Lucienne. “And I’m looking forward to helping you!” The woman just gives them a small smile.

(Y/N)’s eyes snapped open. They were greeted by the mundane wall they had seen before they had dozed off. Slowly, their head shifts to the side, seeing a visible lump on the bed next to them. A sigh escapes their lips. So this wasn’t just some horrible nightmare. (Y/N) shifts their body to the opposite side of the bed.

They would give anything to escape from this.

~One Month Later~

While (Y/N) was having a hard time adjusting to married life, they were absolutely thriving in the Dreaming. The best part of their day was when they were able to sneak in naps or just go to bed for the night, as the door would now always appear to them, and they would almost always end up in that library.

(Y/N) was quick with learning the library’s layout too, so putting the books back where they belonged was easy work for both them and Lucienne. The two became rather fast friends as well, trading different stories they liked with each other, and just always seeming to have the most wonderful conversations.

It was another long night, books seemed scattered all over the place. (Y/N) collected as many of them as they could, placing the forgotten books on their cart. They made quick work of the pile, always moving from one aisle to another.

The last book seemed to belong in the romance section. Their eyes scanned across the shelves, looking for the book’s home in the aisle. Spotting the noticeable gap, they placed the book back, wiping their hands with a satisfied smile on their face. (Y/N) makes their way from the aisle, but a noticeable glow in the aisle catches their attention.

There was a small book on the shelf, that seemed to be glowing in a way (Y/N) had only seen once before. Carefully, they pluck the book from the shelf. The cover is just as dark as their door to the Dreaming, painted in the same shining gold sigils. A frown forms on their face. Was their mind playing some kind of trick? (Y/N)’s eyes scan the cover, and they feel their breath hitch at the title.

Where I Can’t Follow: The Heartwrenching Tale of an Endless and a Mortal

(Y/N)’s brows furrow, and cautiously flips through the pages of the book. If anything, it just left them with more questions.

The very first page had no chapter title, and one small sentence: It began in a dream. (Y/N) frowned, flipping through the book’s pages. The rest of them were blank. As if the story had not been written out.

“(Y/N)?” Lucienne’s voice rang out, causing them to jump. “You alright?” They look over at the woman, about to show them the book, only to feel the weight in their hand disappear. (Y/N) glances back down, the book was gone. “(Y/N)?”

“Y-Yeah…sorry…I thought I saw something.” Lucienne frowns.

A few weeks later, and (Y/N) had all but completely forgotten about the strange book. Their newfound duties at the library occupied a majority of their time in their Dreaming life.

It was another average day, but miraculously, the two had managed to get almost all of the books back where they belonged. (Y/N) took it upon themself to do some dusting on the higher shelves. Since those seemed to be the books that were touched the least, they had collected quite the collection of dust over the years.

Carefully climbing up the ladder, (Y/N) sweeps the duster gently across the old books. Clouds of dust flow into the air, getting caught up in the duster’s feathers. Quietly, (Y/N) hummed to themself, getting lost in their own thoughts.

However, a familiar glow tickled their face.

(Y/N) craned their neck, having to look all the way up to the very top shelf, and they could see the glowing book yet again. Why did their mind choose to torment them at the worst of times? Carefully, (Y/N) climbed up higher onto the ladder, the step space becoming much more narrow the higher they went.

When they reached the top step, they still couldn’t quite reach the book, and they began to wonder if they should just leave it altogether. (Y/N) was not trying to risk their life on some half-empty book. However, the book seemed to read their mind, as the glowing became harsher. (Y/N) let out a groan in annoyance, but pushed forward with trying to reach it.

They stretched their arm out as far as they possibly could, their fingertips lightly grazing the book’s binding. Their one arm held on tightly to the ladder, as they started to reach even farther by stepping on their toes. (Y/N) could finally feel the book in the palm of their hand, but before they could pull it from the shelf…

The ladder wobbled.

Before (Y/N) could even register what was happening, it appeared to be too late for them to readjust their balance. They could feel themself lose their grasp on the ladder, as they began their descent to the ground. They could remember hearing a small gasp escape their lips, as they closed their eyes, waiting for impact. But it never came. Instead, they felt someone’s arms cradling tightly around their body.

“Do you attract trouble on your own, or do you go purposely seeking it out?” A deep voice mused. Slowly, their eyes crept open, greeted by Morpheus’s icy stare. They took a moment to register what exactly had just happened. In the span of a second, Morpheus had somehow been able to catch (Y/N). They didn’t even remember seeing him before ascending the ladder. “You seem to be quite the handful at times, (Y/N).”

“Or in this case, I guess you could say an armful.” They tried to joke, but they could still feel their heart racing. “Thank you…for catching me.” The man simply nods, gently placing them on their feet.

“You need to be more careful around here, (Y/N).” Gently, his fingers lift their chin, having them meet his eyes. “We would not want anything to happen to you now, would we?” They could feel his fingers linger on their cheek, face heating up at his words.

“N-No…I’ll be m-more careful.” His stern demeanor fades, the tiniest of smiles on his lips.

“Good.”

The man had vanished without another word, leaving (Y/N) with a flustered expression, and their heart now racing for an entirely different reason.

Morpheus was still quite a mystery to (Y/N), never talking much unless he had to or was making a snide remark. For someone who is practically a God, he had a bit of an attitude on him. And even though they had a rough introduction, it almost seemed like Morpheus would seek them out at times.

There were times (Y/N) could swear that they could feel his gaze, even if he wasn’t in the room. And if they did happen to cross paths, there was always this intense look in his eyes, that would cause their heart to flutter. Even though they had promised to help Lucienne, and they very much kept their word, they couldn’t help but wish to see the brooding man, even if it was just for a moment.

There was something about him that made their heart beat in a way Elliot never could.

And they began to wonder if he had felt the same.

Morpheus always seemed to interact with (Y/N) differently than every other “mortals” that passed through here. They assumed it was probably because he was still trying to figure out just how they seemed to have access to his realm, but they hoped, even if it was ridiculous, that maybe he also felt the strange pull in his heart.

But, this was probably just all in their head.

~Two Years Later~

(Y/N) had grown accustomed to their double life at this point. During the day, they played the role of a faithful spouse, making sure to avoid doing anything that would be frowned upon in the public eye. And at night, they would spend what would feel like days helping Lucienne around the library, while also managing to sneak around and find Morpheus.

There were still no real leads about the mysterious door that only (Y/N) would ever see, but they didn’t really seem to care about it anymore. The door hadn’t manifested in the real world since their “wedding” day. And as for the book, they hadn’t seen it since the ladder incident. Life for them… wasn’t perfect but they were getting by. And their time in the Dreaming was the only thing that seemed to make it all worth it.

“Your mother came by today.” A voice hissed out. (Y/N) looks up from their spot on the bed, greeted by the sight of a very angry-looking Elliot. Their hands were on their hips, and it almost seemed as if they were huffing.

This was the downside of (Y/N)’s life in the waking world.

For the first few months of their marriage, Elliot had remained quiet and was just as upset about the arrangement as (Y/N) had been. But, over time…things just seemed to become more strained between them. Elliot had attempted a few times to try and lure (Y/N) to bed and well…attempt to create the heir both their parents so desperately wanted, but (Y/N) couldn’t bring themself to do it. They refused to bring a child into a loveless marriage, especially if that child’s fate in life was just to be betrothed to someone they didn’t love.

After a year into their marriage, Elliot was fed up. They became aggressive, always verbally insulting (Y/N), even wishing death upon them at times. In public, they were the picture-perfect couple, but behind closed doors, Elliot was a monster.

“And what did she want?” (Y/N) mumbled, eyes focusing back on their book.

“What she always wants. She wants to know why she does not have a grandchild yet.” (Y/N) turns a page in their book. “Are you even listening to me?!”

“I am. But we have had this conversation before. I am not ready for a child.” Elliot lets out a scoff.

“That’s what you always say.” They grumbled. “You understand the entire point of our marriage was to create an heir to the Charles/(L/N) name, right? We literally have one purpose, and yet you can’t seem to bother with me! Let’s just have the bloody kid, and get it over with!” (Y/N) sits up, a deep frown heavy on their face.

“And this is exactly why we are not ready to bring a child into this world. Get it over with? A child is a ton of responsibility, not something you can just get over with.” They seethe. Elliot lets out a frustrated groan.

“You are the sorriest excuse I have ever gotten the displeasure to know! Clumsy beyond belief, and all you seem to do is sleep half the time! You are fucking pathetic!” They shout. (Y/N) sighs. It was better for them to just let Elliot get it out of their system. They had learned a while ago that the more they fought Elliot, the worse they became. “I can’t believe I’m stuck with someone as worthless as you are!” (Y/N) winced. “No really, what have you done on this earth besides being a thorn in everyone’s side? Your parents barely want anything to do with you, I want nothing to do with you, who here actually enjoys your company?! I wish you would just fucking disappear from my life!” And with that, Elliot slams the door shut, storming off.

(Y/N) didn’t bother to follow. Nothing they would say would make anything better between them. They could feel wet drops hit their hands, looking down to realize it was tears. When did they start crying? Another sigh escapes their lips, placing the book on their nightstand, before rolling over onto their bed. More tears flowed freely.

They would give anything to be free from this pain.

Slowly, they feel their eyes begin to drift, and they are whisked off into their dreams.

When (Y/N) awakens, they find themself on a familiar-looking island. This time they weren’t lost at sea, still on the sand where they had been two years prior. However, the storm seemed to be worse this time around, as harsh rains pelted heavily against their skin.

They feel their body give out, crashing against the sand as sobs rip through their throat. They stayed like that for a while, the rain soaking their clothes, and their sobs becoming louder. (Y/N) could feel a warmth hit against their skin, as well as a familiar creak. Their eyes peer open to see the door, but (Y/N) can’t bring themself to move. Instead, they turn over, not wanting anything to do with the Dreaming today. They didn’t want Lucienne and Morpheus to see them like this.

So, (Y/N) continues to lay against the sand. The rain continued to pelt them harder, almost as if it was hail. Their sobs had quieted down, and all they could feel at this moment was nothing. They felt numb.

“(Y/N)?” A voice called out. Their body stiffened. Of course, they knew who the voice was, but they never thought he would actually come looking for them. Maybe they were just hearing things. “(Y/N)?” He calls again, this time, (Y/N) could clearly hear footsteps approaching behind them. They turn their body over, slowly pushing themself off the sand. They look up, and sure enough, the King of Dreams stands before them, with a concerned look in his eyes.

“What are you doing out here…you’re going to get wet…” They mumble, voice still course and raw from their earlier crying spell. A small frown forms on Morpheus's lips.

“You did not come to the Dreaming today…did the door not appear to you?” (Y/N) shakes their head.

“It did…I just…I had a really bad day…” Morpheus pauses for a moment. (Y/N) knew that emotions were not necessarily his strong suit, as they had learned through multiple instances throughout the last two years. But what he did now, surprised them. He sat next to them in the sand.

“Would you…” He pauses, looking for the right wording. “Would you like to talk about it?”

The rain gets lighter.

(Y/N)’s eyes widen before they feel a small chuckle escape their throat. Morpheus’s brows immediately furrow, and he goes to stand. He appeared to be offended. Quickly, (Y/N) reaches up, grabbing one of his arms and pulling him back down to the ground.

“Relax, I was just surprised…you usually freak out with anything to do with emotions.” Morpheus’s lips seem to pucker.

“I do not freak out.”

“Morpheus, you left me one time after you found me crying over a sappy book I read at the library. Then came back three hours later and claimed you had ‘urgent business’ you needed to attend to and that’s why you vanished.” They could feel his body tense.

“I am…learning.” He states firmly. (Y/N) lets out a few giggles, leaning their head against his shoulder.

“Yeah, you are.” The two fall into a comfortable silence, both watching the now calm ocean waves crashing onto the sand. The rain had stopped altogether, and the sky was no longer gloomy. (Y/N) wished that this could be their forever. Morpheus clears his throat, bringing their attention back up to meet his eyes. He still seemed concerned.

“Why did you not wish to come to the Dreaming today?” They let out a sigh, starting to feel the tears well back up in their eyes.

“I…I told you…I had a really bad day.” The clouds appear again, causing Morpheus to frown. “I did not wish for you both to see the state I was in…plus I wouldn’t have been much help in the library today…” They mumble. “I’m honestly surprised to see you here. I thought you both just found me a thorn on your side, having to deal with me just because I kept appearing.” A few tears stream down their cheeks. A light rain begins to cover the island. Soft fingers gently caress their cheek, pulling their face up to meet his eyes.

“Though your appearance in my realm was unexpected, there is not one moment in which Lucienne or I have ever felt like you were some kind of thorn. You have brought much joy into the Dreaming, into Lucienne’s life, and even mine.” He whispers the last part. (Y/N) feels their eyes widen at his words, tears forming again, but for an entirely different reason. They lunge forward, tackling the man into a hug. He stiffens for a bit, before eventually returning the embrace.

“Thank you…” They murmur, voice muffled by his clothes. “You don’t know how much that means to me…” The two stay in each other’s embrace, Morpheus’s hand trailing up and down their back. While (Y/N) is enjoying this moment, they can’t help but worry about what will happen when they wake up. They’d be back in their world…away from people who actually seemed to care about them.

They’d be stuck with Elliot.

However, it almost seemed as if Morpheus had read their mind.

“(Y/N), I must confess something to you.” Begrudgingly, they pull back from his embrace, a quirk on their brow.

“What is it?” He looks off to the side.

“I have visited you…in your realm. A few times. I…Lucienne had noticed a few times where you had come in, and your normal demeanor was off. She seemed worried about you, so I promised to check in just to see if you were doing alright in the waking world.” (Y/N)’s brows furrowed. They had never seen him before in the waking world, but now that they thought about it, there were a few times when they felt as if his gaze was on them. But they always shrugged it off as nothing. They feel their eyes snap wide. If he had gone to see them, did he see…”Why did you not tell us about that thing that has been tormenting you?” Yep, there it is. (Y/N) feels their body tense, eyes shifting back towards the ground.

“I didn’t think it was necessary. Plus, you both already have so much going on, the last thing I would ever want is to add more to your plate.”

“(Y/N).” He calls out firmly. “That was incredibly stupid of you to think.” (Y/N) turns to him, frown on their face. “We care about you…clearly enough for Lucienne to ask me to check in on you.” He sighs, gently caressing the side of their cheek again. “Which leads me to my next question…are you truly happy there? In the waking world?” (Y/N) scoffs.

“I dread waking up. My life in the waking world is absolutely miserable…” They grumble. He gives a small nod.

“Very well, then. I shall offer you this choice, but only this once.” Their head perked up. “You can continue to live your life in the mortal realm, and still come as you please. Or, I can bring you, your physical body, to come to stay in the Dreaming.” (Y/N)’s eyes shoot open.

“I’m sorry, did you just ask me to come live with you?”

“In a way. You would not be living with me but in my realm. But, I must warn you, if you choose this, you cannot return to your world. It would be too much for your physical body to bounce back and forth between both realms, which is why as of now you only appear in your dreams.” He states sternly. “I know it is a lot to decide at the moment, but I-”

“I’ll stay with you.” Morpheus blinks.

“Are you sure? You have not given it mu-”

“I’m sure. I want to stay in the Dreaming.” Morpheus gazes into their eyes, looking for any sign of doubt or indecision. But (Y/N)’s face was stern. There was nothing there for them in this life. They would much rather spend their time in a place where they could truly be happy.

“Then so be it. I will come for you.”

(Y/N) feels their body jolt from their bed. Moonlight peaked through their window, shining onto their bed. They glanced over and could see Elliot fast asleep on their side. A small tapping noise made its way to (Y/N)’s ears. They glance up to see Jessamy tapping her beak against the window. (Y/N) rises from their bed, making their way to the window. Jessamy flies away, landing on her master’s shoulder. (Y/N) couldn’t help but gasp.

He was really here, in the waking world.

And, he was going to take them away from their god-awful nightmare.

(Y/N) glances back at Elliot’s sleeping figure, and can’t help but smile.

Guess both of their dreams would come true tonight.

~

If your name has a strike through it, it means Tumblr would not allow me to tag you. Apologies. Also, I believe I am caught up with tags, but if you wish to be tagged, either comment on this post or send it through the ask box :)

Taglist: @babybatsunite​ @sarahluna​ @vikingqueen28​ @moon-enthusiast​ @agghghhhhhh @just0reading123 @featamess @lariclifford​ @mellowstatesmanhairdopersona​ @catsandra-chan​ @laucoeurs​ @deafening-paradise​ @todaywasafairytale07​ @papitas-con-sal​ @bucky-thorin-winchester​ @bellejeanx​ @pickle-rick-y​ @little-spooky-ghost-girl​ @leiarsa​ @cry-me-a-table-sharon​ @lokigirlszendaya​ @xlafleur​ @kortmurt​ @issaky555 @onyxblackwinchester​ @georginagils​ @briefpostpolice​ @thingy-mar​ @elleclairez​​ @comet-moonlight​​ @silverweresquirrel @c4zti3l​​ @shitpostingiris​​ @stardust-and-starlight​​ @lulzbrokenbyfantasy​​ @strangerthingshappeneveryday​​ @nebulosa-reina​​ @jesllianaquilesrolon​​ @lilyviolets​​ @megumimind​ @sailorsaturn96 @orowit​ @xleiaorgana​ @faithm120601​ @thege3k​ @shitpostingiris​ @omglovelylaila​ @jade9250 @joelizabr​ @kinda-smart-kinda-weird @aecrylics​ @greatoperawombategg​ @seekerbear90​ @lancey-klancee​ @doom-cookie-main​ @vampy-sammy​ @hanahakichrysantheums​ @fruityfucker​ @elraeeee​ @katiemrty​ @mata0-0mata

[flyingraijin]

MHA Boys Catch Mineta Perving On You Pt. 2

Ft. Kirishima, Denki, Iida, Sero x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, sexual harassment, violence, mentions of death, Mineta hatred (really, I write these things purely to let off steam about how much I hate that guy)

Notes: I just wanted to say a huge thank you for the amount of support that part one got. I honestly never expected so much positive feedback, since it was something I just spat out because I was bored. 

Also I apologise for my very clear Sero-bias in this post. I have such a soft spot for that man, it’s unbelievable. 

Part 1  Part 3

Eijirou Kirishima

Looking back, you should probably have seen it coming. After all, Mineta hadn't changed at all in your three years at UA. So why would you think he'd be any different at your graduation?

As a final farewell, Classes A and B had gotten together to organise one last gathering before you were all released into the real world. And unlike most things the Hero Course students did together, the planning and execution of the party had gone spectacularly.

Before you knew it, your last night as UA students was drawing to a close.

You could already feel the muscles in your face beginning to ache with how much you had smiled in the last couple of hours, however it did nothing to dissuade from your good mood. The party had been amazing, the final few hours spent with your friends before becoming full-fledged pro-heroes were invaluable and you were excited to head into life outside of school.

Your boyfriend, Kirishima, grinned at you from where he sat beside you on one of the common room couches. He'd been by your side all night, something you didn't mind as much as you thought you might. After all, it wasn't every day you go to share a few hours of pure, uninterrupted fun.

Kirishima leaned forward slightly to put his nose close to your ear. "Have I told you how beautiful you look right now?" he said in a low voice.

You giggled. "At least four times, Ei."

Kirishima flushed at your words but shrugged modestly nevertheless. "Well it’s true. It's not my fault you’re so-"

He was cut off by a yell from Denki, who stood at the other side of the room, near the communal kitchen. "OI, Kiri! Come do a shot with me?"

Kirishima's eyebrows furrowed. "A shot of what?" he yelled back. "We're not supposed to drink alcohol yet."

"It's tabasco!" Denki replied excitedly. "I found some in the fridge!"

Kirishima shook his head for a moment before pecking you sweetly on the cheek. "I'd better go make sure he doesn't die," he said in an exhausted tone, though you could see the excited sparkle in his eyes.

You waved him off with a smile, chuckling to yourself as you watched him rush excitedly over to where his friend was standing.

For the next five minutes, you were so ingrained in watching him mess around with Denki, you almost didn’t notice when the couch dipped beside you as someone sat down. You did notice, however, when hot breath suddenly rushed over the skin of your neck, sending shivers across your skin. 

"I never told you this,” came a disgusting voice right beside your ear. “But I’ve always thought you had the nicest boobs out of all the girls in the class.”

You jerked away from the voice, glaring in shock and fury at Mineta. The disgusting boy smirked back at you. 

“I mean it,” he said smugly before you could chew him out. “I’ve been staring at your tits since first year. I really like that dress by the way.” He leaned forward slightly and you swore you could see drool pooling in the corner of his mouth. “It gives me the perfect view down your cleav-mfff!”

You jumped in surprise when a hand seized Mineta suddenly by the front of his collar. 

“You really are the most disgusting human ever!” spat Kirishima from where he towered over both you and the trembling grape. Raising Mineta into the air with ease, Kirishima turned him to face you. “Now. Fucking apologise.”

“Ggah!” Mineta gargled in fear, kicking his legs which dangled pathetically in the air. 

Kirishima’s grip didn’t waver. “Apologise,” he growled again in a tone so dangerous you almost didn’t recognise him.

“Ngh... I’m...sorry,” Mineta spluttered out, gasping for air as Kirishima’s grip on his collar constricted his airway. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I promise... ah, I promise I won’t do it again!”

Kirishima gave him one last shake before dropping him back to the floor, where he lay spluttering. With a snort, your boyfriend stepped over his trembling figure and sat down next to you once again. “God, am I glad I won’t have to see you anymore now that we’ve graduated,” he sighed out before tapping Mineta with his toe. “Get the fuck out of here, you little pervert.”

Mineta didn’t need to be told twice and hastily scrambled out of sigh, leaving Kirishima free to place his forehead gently against your shoulder. “I’ve been waiting to do that since the first time I caught him staring at you,” he breathed out and you relaxed at the return of his usual soft voice. A shaky chuckle escaped you. “You should have. I don’t think anyone would have have a problem with it.” Your skin was still crawling from the encounter. 

Kiri grunted in agreement. Then he raised his head to give you a once over, his eyes wide and worried. “Are you alright though, gorgeous? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left you at all-”

You kissed him quickly before offering him a smile. “I’m alright, just disgusted. Thank you for dealing with him.”

“Any time, gorgeous,” Kirishima grinned and winked at you. Then he stood up. “Now come dance with me!”

Denki Kaminari

When Mr Aizawa had announced that the whole class would be taking a week long trip to attend a hero gala, you thought that you’d finally get a break from the near constant harassment from one perverted grape. 

Oh, how wrong you were.

Upon arriving at the hotel that had been picked to house the whole of UA’s hero course, you were delighted to find that you were to be roommates with your two best female friends, Jirou and Mina. Almost immediately after getting settled into your spacious hotel room, Mina suggested taking a trip to the hotel’s hot tub, something that neither you nor Jirou could say no to after spending an entire day in a bus. 

The situation was made even better when you arrived in the pool area of the hotel and realised that your boyfriend, Denki, and his three other idiot best friends were already messing around in the pool. 

You waved to them as you walked past on the way to the hot tub. Denki let out a playful wolf-whistle in reply and blew you a kiss before going back to playing chicken with Kirishima, Bakugou and Sero. 

You let out a sigh of relief when you finally slid into the hot tub, a sigh that was matched by your two best friends on either side of you. “I needed this,” Jirou groaned out, her eyes closed in content. 

“No kidding,” agreed Mina. “School has been kicking my ass lately.”

“At least we get a break from lessons for a week,” you said, letting your eyes close as you sank deeper into the steaming water. “Now, all we need is to not get attacked by-”

“Hellooo, ladies.”

Your blood ran cold at the sound of the drawling voice of the one classmate you did not what to see right now (or ever, for that matter). 

“Go away, Mineta,” Jirou growled through gritted teeth. 

You opened your eyes, preparing to add your own biting remark in hopes of scaring off the perverted boy. However before you could form words, your breath hitched in your throat when you felt a horrifying squeeze at your chest. Your eyes met Mineta’s, who you now realised was standing just behind you with his arm reaching over your shoulder.

With a squeak, you slapped violently at Mineta’s hand in a desperate attempt to get him away from you. The boy chuckled menacingly but, thankfully, he retreated. You too moved as far away from him as you could, sandwiching yourself between your two friends in fear. 

“You little-!” Mina spat, her eyes burning. She was about to advance on the smaller boy when another hand appeared out of nowhere, gripping Mineta tightly by the shoulder. 

You blinked in surprise when you realised that it was none other than Denki who now stood behind Mineta. He was soaked to the bone, having obviously just hauled himself out of the pool, and for one of the first times in your relationship with him, his expression held nothing but malice. 

Leaning down in order to get eye level with the smaller boy, Denki gave him a piercing look. "You know I have complete control over your life right now, right?."

Mineta gulped, wincing as Denki's grip on his shoulder tightened. "I..."

"It only takes between one hundred and two hundred and fifty volts of electricity to kill someone," Denki mused in a voice so calm it almost scared you. "Do you know how many volts I'm capable of producing on a day to day basis, Mineta?"

Again, Mineta could do little more than stutter.

"Two million.” Denki smirked then. "And I'm still improving." He allowed his words to hang in the air for a second and you had to smother your snort of laughter as you watched the blood drain from Mineta’s face.

Then any mischief dropped from Deki's expression and his eyes turned stony and cold as he said, "If you ever look at any of them again... my hand just might slip, Mineta. Now get out of here." 

As soon as his grip loosened, Mineta scrambled away. You watched as he rushed out of the pool house before turning to Denki. The boy had a slightly sheepish look on his face now that he was faced by the gazes of not only you but your two friends as well.

"Sheesh, Kaminari," Jirou said, an eyebrow raised. "I never expected that from you."

"Well, I..." Denki chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck. "I saw what he was doing and it really pissed me off so I thought-mff!" He was cut off as you rose to your feet and drew him into a hug.

"Thank you," you murmured into his ear, hugging his body tightly against yours. "Thank you for making him stop"

Denki chuckled awkwardly and without even having to see him, you knew he was blushing. Cautiously, he set his hands on your waist. 

"What, did you expected me to just sit back and watch? Have a little more faith in me, Munchkin," he chuckled out.

You pulled back and gave him a soft smile. "Of course, Kami." Then you ruffled up his wet hair, grinning at the way his face scrunched up. "Now go back to your idiot friends."

Denki grinned lopsidedly back at you. Then he kissed you cheek lightly and mumbled out "See you later," before rushing back towards where Sero, Kirishima and Bakugou were waiting in the pool.

You giggled as, with a whoop, he did a full flip into the water, drenching the three other boys in the process.

Tenya Iida

I changed the premise slightly for this one because I felt it was getting repetitive. Also, I apologise if I didn't get Iida's character exactly right - this is the first time I've written anything relatively detailed for him.  

Although you didn't want to admit it to yourself, this probably wasn't your smartest idea.

Almost everyone living in Heights Alliance knew by now that if you were female and wanted to shower, you had to do it when Mineta was out. It was a sad truth, however, despite having been an issue for the better part of two years now, no one had managed to find a way to legally restrain Mineta.

Looking back, you supposed you shouldn’t have taken the risk. 

It was a heart stopping moment, realising that both your clean and dirty clothes were gone from the place you’d left them after exiting your shower. It was even more blood curdling to realise that Mineta was probably - no, definitely- the culprit, and was almost 100% granted to be standing outside the door to the girls’ showers at that very moment, waiting for you to exit in just your towel. 

Disgusting as it was, it had happened before. 

Thankfully, Mineta had misjudged his attack that time and instead of swiping Tsuyu’s clothing as he had planned, he took Hagakure’s. 

You, however, were definitely not as comfortable with walking out into the common area practically naked as your invisible classmate was. 

So you did the only logical thing. You called your boyfriend. 

“Tenya?”

“Yes, sweetheart,” he replied immediately. You sighed in relief upon hearing his voice. 

“You’re in the dorms, right?”

“Yes?” Iida sounded confused. “Aren’t you? Why are you calling me?”

“Uhhh,” you scratched your head awkwardly, suddenly realising how much of an awkward position you were about to put your poor boyfriend in. “Well, uh, you see... I was taking a shower and... well... MinetastolemyclothesandnowIimstucknakedinthebathroom.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. Then Iida cleared his throat. 

“Um, sweetheart, I couldn’t catch any of that.”

You sighed and blushed a deep red. 

“I’m stuck in the bathroom because Mineta took my clothes,” you repeated, slower this time.

There was no reply.

“And I’m pretty sure he’s waiting outside for me to walk out in just my towel,” you added as an afterthought.

“Mineta...did...what?!”

You blinked as the amount of - barely controlled - animosity in your boyfriend’s voice. It was incredibly rare for him to lose his composure in such a way, after all. 

“He’s done it before,” you explained quickly. “But it didn’t work so I didn’t think it’d be a problem anymore.”

You heard Iida let out a grating sigh. Then he said,”Give me a few minutes. I’ll bring you some clothes and deal with that...child.” (You got the distinct impression he was trying hard not to curse).

Then the line went dead before you had a chance to thank him. 

Five minutes passed in dreadful silence. You waited frozen in the bathroom, your ears pricked the entire time in anticipation of what would happen once your boyfriend arrived on the scene. Knowing Iida, it would mostly likely go one of two ways - either he’d be rational and drag Mineta to Mr Aizawa’s office. Or he’d lose his cool, something which you’d seen before and didn’t particularly want to see again.

You were pulled harshly out of your thoughts on the matter when there came a sharp knock on the door. Hurriedly, you pulled it ajar, just enough to peek your head out while still making sure your towel was wrapped securely around your body. 

The sight that met your eyes was both comical and terrifying at the same time. 

Iida had Mineta by the back of his collar and was holding him in the air with seemingly no trouble at all. The smaller boy was visibly trembling and had both tears and snot running down his face. In Iida’s other hand was a small bag, evidently full of your clothes. He held this out to you when he noticed you staring, his expression blank. 

You stood for a minute, wondering if you should step in and try to diffuse the situation. But then you looked back at Mineta’s disgusting face and decided you didn’t want to. 

With a sweet smile, you took the bag of clothes from your boyfriend. “Thank you!” you told him kindly. Then you flipped off Mineta before closing the door behind you. 

Once you were changed and could exit the bathroom properly, you were surprised to see a very relaxed-looking Iida standing in wait for you. Mineta was nowhere to be found.

“What did you do with him?” you asked curiously as the pair of you began to head in the direction of your bedroom. Iida gave you a relaxed smile. 

“I don’t believe that’s anything you need to worry about,” he said and despite the softness of his tone, you could hear the grit in his teeth. So you chose not to comment. 

Mineta had it coming, anyway. 

Hanta Sero

The first time you were violated by the infamous pervert from the UA hero course was a day you both hated and loved to remember. 

Loved because you had gotten to spend a day with your boyfriend as a result of the incident. Hated because, well, the incident itself occurred.

Going to Shiketsu High School unfortunately meant that you weren’t able to see your boyfriend all that much. While meeting Hanta Sero at the provisional licensing exam in your first year had been one of the moments in your life you regularly thanked the universe for, you couldn’t deny that the stress of both having to hide you relationship from your school and try to keep in contact was hard to deal with.

This meant that when you did get time off to spend with Sero, you were incredibly unappreciative of any interruptions that might occur. 

One such interruption was someone you’d been told all about by your boyfriend, thought not someone you’d ever expected to meet in person.

On this particular day, you’d heard from Sero that he and a few classmates would be spending the day at a mall close to where you lived, in an attempt to buy decorations for the UA festival. Since it was so close by, you had offered to meet them there to hang out for the day, to which Sero had immediately agreed.

You had arrived slightly early and so decided to kill time by wondering through a few of your favourite shops. Humming quietly to yourself, you picked up a particularly cute sundress to admire it. 

A disgusting slurping noise suddenly sounded from behind you and you jumped and spun around to see a tiny, creepy looking kid with purple balls for hair staring up at you. He had string of drool running sickeningly down his chin and  had obviously been staring unabashedly at your ass before you’d turned around. Much to your horror, he refused to drop his gaze even when you made direct eye contact with him. 

“What the f-?” you began only to be cut off when he took another obnoxiously loud slurp of a smoothie that was in his hand. Then he said, “You have very sexy legs.”

Your eyes flew wide, caught off guard by the fact that he was so bold. 

The kid nodded, looking at you in approval and you were sickened by how much you felt like an object under his disgusting gaze. “Mm hm,” the boy hummed. “I’d give you an 8 out of ten at least. Maybe a nine if you showed some more skin.”

Anger spiked like lightening in your gut. “Who the hell do you think-!” you began to spit out at the smirking child. However you were cut off by a loud, exaggerated laugh. Both you and the child turned to see none other than your boyfriend standing a couple of meters away, his head thrown back as he chuckled. 

Your mouth fell slightly open in surprise as he sauntered forward. However his attention wasn’t on you and you realised as he got closer that his usually sparkling eyes were now filled only with a kind of ominous anticipation. Goosebumps rose on your skin. 

“Did you seriously just rate my girlfriend?” Sero snorted out once he reached you and the purple kid. The child in question paled under Sero’s intense gaze, his eyes flicking nervously between you and the taller boy. 

Without warning, Sero suddenly raised his arm and encased the child in tape, essentially wrapping him up like a burrito until nothing but his face was exposed. You gasped. 

“Hanta!”

“Don’t worry, Lovebug,” Sero said calmly, offering you a grin. “This is the perverted little fucker I told you about. The one who doesn’t leave any of the girls alone.”

“You told this hottie about me?” the boy, who you now knew to be Mineta, squeaked and you were disgusting to see his entire body shiver even through the tape. “A hot girl from another school knew about me this whole time!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Sero said, giving the tape a tug. The jolt managed to rattle Mineta into silence and Sero turned back to you. 

“Are you okay? He didn’t touch you or anything did he?”

You shook your head. “I’m alright, he didn’t touch me. “ Your mouth curled into a scowl when you looked back at the drooling grape. “Can we please dump him in a trash can or something though? The way he’s staring at me is giving me the creeps.”

“Honestly, even a trashcan would be too good for him,” Sero let out a dejected sigh. “Let’s just leave him here. I doubt he can walk properly since his legs are taped together, so hopefully he won’t follow us.” 

“I’m right here!” squeaked Mineta in protest, wriggling frantically against the tape. “I can hear you!”

Sero gave him a blank look. “So?” The he turned to you and offered you his hand. “Come on, I wanna introduce you to everyone.”

You took his hand happily, giggling when he tugged you closer to press a kiss to your lips. “Also,” he added and you were happy to see the sparkle back in his dark eyes, “Hi.”

You laughed and kissed him again. “Hi, Hanta.”

“You look gorgeous today,” your boyfriend told you cheekily. “The rating that fucker gave you was bullshit, you’re at least infinity out of ten.”

You blushed profusely. “You’re so full of shit.”

“You love it.”

“I do.”

[honeycombstrawberry]

everything you got

pairing: adrian chase x reader (gn pronouns, has a vagina)

rating: e+ (pwp)

word count: 3,730

one-sentence synopsis: after adrian's been hard at work all day repairing his armor, you offer to take the edge off-- even if your motives aren't entirely selfless.

author's note: okay TAKE TWO!!!!! i'm sorry i fucked up posting this the first time!!!!!!! also i'm so very VERY sleepy but man WHEW a demon or something SOMETHING very lustful possessed me. there's just something about thinking about adrian completely falling apart....... WHEW!!!!!! TAKE ME AWAY!!!!!!

>>> read on ao3! <<<

“Am I doing this right?” Adrian asks, holding up his mask for you to inspect.

You take it from him, needles and thread and fabric and all, to examine his handiwork. When the two of you had first gotten together, you have to admit, you hadn’t known a tremendous amount about stitching armor for a superhero. Now, though, you’d consider yourself a self-trained expert at it.

“Looks good,” you tell him. There’s a couple of gaps in the stitches, and you rework them for him. You move quickly, hand threading in and out with grace born from experience.

Adrian sighs, scooting down on the sofa so he can lay his head in your lap. Despite the fact that he’s maybe about twice your size, he loves curling up into you, and around you, and under you. You don’t know if it makes him feel small so much as he feels loved, and held, and cared for. You’re happy to give that, anytime you can; he always makes you feel that way, after all.

“You’re so good at this,” Adrian comments, watching from below as you expertly stitch the fabric back together.

“You’re better at it than you think,” you remind him. Fixing the last stitch, you pass it back to him. “There you go.”

Adrian sighs again, taking the mask and returning to his work. He’s spent the entire day plugging away at fixing his suit while you lounged around and offered encouragement, as well as the occasional fix to his stitches.

Once Adrian gets a task in mind, it’s difficult to break him from it. If you don’t stop him, he can easily spend an entire day doing the same activity, determined to finish it in one sitting. As it is, he’s spent the last several hours working on rebuilding his armor. The entire time, you’ve listened to him rambling, and leaned against his shoulder, and handed him different needles and various threads when asked.

You could get used to this. Even more— You are getting used to this.

It seems like you’re starting to spend more and more days at Adrian’s side. The two of you are hardly ever apart, and you don’t see that changing anytime soon. In fact, you’re fairly certain it’ll be that way for the rest of your lives.

Glancing over at the mask in Adrian’s hands, you tell him honestly, “That looks great, Adrian. Like, expert quality.”

“Ah, c’mon,” Adrian replies. You can hear the smile in his voice all the same.

“I mean it,” you tell him. You shift to kiss his forehead, then nudge him upwards. “You can’t stitch like that, you can’t see it right.”

“But I’m tired,” he complains, “and you’re comfortable.”

You can’t help smiling, yourself. You reach to take the mask and needle and thread from his hands; as you set them aside on the coffee table in front of your sofa, you ask him, “Ready to do something else for a little while?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, there’s a beat where he considers you, head still in your lap as you bend forward. When you pull back, he reaches up, catching your head with his hand at the nape of your neck, guiding you downward into a kiss.

His lips part yours, and at this upside-down angle, he leads you into an open-mouthed kiss, licking slowly into your mouth. His tongue glides along yours, lazy, searching. There’s a touch more hunger when he draws back and comes in again, his heat starting to rise as he begins paying more attention to this, waking up a bit.

Adrian is smiling when you break the kiss, pulling in air. He shifts to sit up, falling back against the couch cushions and dragging you into his lap. You changed your clothes a while ago to be comfortable, which left you only in your underwear and one of Adrian’s soft, worn t-shirts, something he’s owned since high school. The broader his shoulders have gotten, and the more muscular he’s become, he’s stretched the cotton out completely. As a result, it hangs off of you, too big to fit properly, slipping off your shoulder as he drags you into his lap.

It’s easy for him to maneuver you, his big hands fitting over your hips. He practically lifts you, his strong muscles working, pulling visibly in his bare arms as he brings you up and over. He’s barely got anything on, himself, and you can feel the half-hard line of his cock already through his sweatpants.

Your breath catching in the back of your throat, heat starting to pool low, you dip your head down to kiss at the hinge of Adrian’s sharp jaw, his soft cheek, the corner of his mouth. He huffs a breathless laugh, twisting to catch you in a kiss.

You can’t help the instinctive roll of your hips, grinding down into him over his cock. He breaks off a soft noise, and you swallow it before responding in kind, murmuring, “Fuck, Adrian—” as he grabs your hips again and rolls you in.

“Sorry,” he says, not sorry at all as he thrusts up again, a purposefully, slow, measured scrape of his body against yours. Your core tightens; you feel impossibly empty, starting to get soaked already. You can feel yourself leaking, soaking into your underwear, just beginning to slick the soft insides of your thighs.

Adrian tilts his head up, biting into another kiss with you as you lift yourself up over him, perched in his lap. When your mouths meet again, he draws you down into a rougher kiss. He doesn’t break it as he lowers his hands with a measured drag to grip the meat of your thighs, rolling his body up into yours again, letting the line of his cock through his sweatpants push against your damp underwear, into your slit.

You whimper without meaning to, the sound tearing up out of the back of your throat. You feel so fucking— empty, and you plead with him, “Can I—” before you’re moving back, shifting to get yourself between his legs, not even finishing your question in your hungry urgency.

“What do you want?” Adrian asks, desperate. “I’ll do anything, I’ll—”

It seems like he understands what you’re asking for once you’re actually on your knees between his thighs, pushing his knees apart so you can reach to hook your fingers into his waistband. You untie the loose knot he has there, pulling at the soft material of his sweatpants, feeling the dramatic contrast of his sharp bone and strong skin pulled over hard muscle beneath those comfortable clothes.

“I want you inside me,” you tell him. “I want you in my mouth, and then you can fuck me.” You tug his sweatpants down about an inch, he whines, and you add, “If you can last that long.”

“I can,” he pants, chest heaving as he stares up at the ceiling. There’s sweat starting to bead up at his temples, hair curling a bit more with the humidity he’s bringing to himself. His glasses slip a little bit down his nose. “I can, I swear, I will, I can—”

You pull his sweatpants the rest of the way down, revealing his bare cock. He wasn’t wearing any underwear, you realize with a jolt, which is why he’d felt so fucking close to your entrance. Your face flushes with heat, cheeks feeling like they’re on fire as you lean in to drag your tongue along the inside of his thigh, enjoying the salt taste of him.

He makes a broken sound above you, his hands slamming down into the sofa. You smile against his flesh.

“You can touch me,” you tell him, lips brushing his sensitive skin as you speak. His muscles are impossible strong, corded and defined here, and still his skin is soft when you press another kiss to it. “If you want to. You can pull my hair, or—”

His fingers fly to your hair, and you laugh, a huff of warm breath against him. You drag your tongue up, hands gliding to follow. At the juncture of his abdomen and his leg, where his hip creases in and he has a strong jut of muscle, you bite in, sucking a mark there until it’s dark beneath your lips and teeth.

He writhes beneath you, unable to stop moving for even a second. He twitches, attempting to keep his body in place, trying not to displace you, but he can’t help it. He’s always moving, desperate for more, hungry to touch, starving for you. His hips shift in aborted, tiny movements; his hands tighten in your hair, then relax, then tighten again, hard; your name keeps falling from his mouth, between broken, harsh sounds and pleas.

His cock is like the rest of him: big, and much bigger than you. You can’t take the whole thing in your mouth; you can barely take it in your cunt, and he always fucking fills you, huge and satisfying and deep, like he reaches the back of your throat.

To accommodate what you know you can’t take on, you wrap your hand around the base of his cock before you do anything else. You take an evaluating moment to glide upwards, stroking up the rock-hard, white-hot line of his cock to the head, thumbing at the beaded moisture gathering there.

You spread his slick down, dragging to wet your grip as you fuck him with your fist once, twice. Your heart throbs in your chest in time with his pulse in his cock; you’re already hungry for this, starving, wanting him in your fucking mouth already.

You’re the only one holding you back, so you nose in closer, letting your cheek rest for a moment against his thigh, like you’re laying down against a pillow in bed. There, pillowed on his lap, you briefly let your eyes flick up to meet his. He’s already looking back at you, pupils blown, chest heaving, glasses at the end of his nose, flushed red everywhere you can see. You can’t help the smile that spreads on your face; you adore him, it just happens.

“Love you,” you tell him, and let the flat of your tongue press to the underside of his cock.

The hand Adrian doesn’t have fisted in your hair slams down into the couch cushions beside him, a heavy whump before his nails dig in the fabric with a scratch.

“Fuck— Fuck,” he gasps out. “Ah— Fuck, you feel so fucking good— Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

He breaks off on a sharp whine as you let your eyes drift shut, letting him settle in your mouth, for a moment, your tongue curling up briefly. This is what you’ve been aching for, and you take a second to just breathe through it, to enjoy it as it happens, to relish the glide of him filling your mouth like you’re taking a deep breath, satisfying in the natural, atavistic way it fills you, all the way down to your core.

You take as much of his cock into your mouth, and then into your throat, as you can. You’ve had practice, with him, but he’s still huge compared to you; loosening your throat can only do so much. What you can’t take, you keep your hand wrapped around.

Between his thighs, you shift yourself, getting into a comfortable position on your knees so you can rise to suck his fucking soul out through his cock in earnest. You want him to feel how he makes you feel, this devouring sort of hunger he instills in you. Even though you want to touch yourself, to put your fingers on yourself or slip them inside and work yourself until you’re collapsing, you hold off, for now.

Instead, you use both hands to work the rest of Adrian’s cock. His back bows when you wrap your fingers around him, stretching to take his girth.

The satisfaction that gives you, of watching Adrian fall apart like this, because you’re sucking his cock, has your cunt pulsing, throbbing, clenching around nothing. You smile without meaning to, hungry, happy, overwhelmed, overjoyed—

Adrian must feel the stretch of your smile, because he huffs, then looks down at you. You blink upwards, meet his eyes through your lashes, and he groans, the sound punching up and out of his chest.

“Fuck,” he curses. You feel the corresponding pulse in his cock, against the flat of your tongue.

You tilt your head, put your back into it, let him fuck your mouth and give as good as you get in return. He collapses forward over you, cradling your head between his hands, trying not to choke you. You take it, swallow around him, grab at him and pull him closer and moan, the vibration in your throat making him cry out your name.

He’s trying so, so fucking valiantly not to cum yet. His grip on your head is tight, fingers bruising where they stretch over your face and your throat, and he clings to himself, trying to keep it together like he promised you.

When you hollow your cheeks, though, and twist, and pull back so he can fuck back in in earnest, he makes a sound that’s barely a sound, more air than anything else.

“Fuck, I need— I need to fuck you now,” he tells you, urgent, desperate, an edge in his words that has you wanting to reach between your legs, needing any kind of friction. You nod slightly, just a tiny movement, and still Adrian moans, a broken sound that tears up and out. “Fuck, oh, God, I need— Fuck, I wish I could take a fucking picture of you like this, oh my fucking God, you just— You just—”

He makes a keening sound, reaching down as far as he can, trying to haul you up. You’re the one with the presence of mind to get off his cock first, pulling out of your swollen lips with a wet, slick drag of a noise before he’s sealing his mouth with yours.

“Let me— Let me,” he’s begging you, hungry, eager, tearing your underwear down your thighs. He rips them apart, throws the torn fabric aside so he can shove your shirt up— his shirt up, his shirt on your body.

His large hand glides up purposefully over your belly, to your chest. Your nipple fits in the center of his palm, and his fingers dig into you, your heart racing just beneath his touch. A burst of sensation joins the touch, rocketing through your body, down your spine from your chest. His thumb drags over your nipple, and you gasp again, jolting.

Adrian hauls you up, throwing you back on the sofa until you’re laying down flat, your legs bent up, Adrian sucking a hungry bruise into the inside of your knee, teeth biting up your thigh.

He gives as good as he got, teases you up to your slick entrance, but he doesn’t have the time to waste that you did. When he realizes how wet you are, how ready you already are for him just from sucking his cock, his breath impossibly quickens, eyes flickering up to meet yours again.

“You’re so fucking— wet, for me,” he says, words soaring out of him.

You shift your hips, wanting more of his touch. You promise him, “Yes, for y—”

He surges up, pulls you into another searching kiss as his other hand guides his cock to your entrance. You’re soaked, and he’s still slick from your mouth; it’s an easy glide, the way he pushes into you. He knows that he has to take his time, to go slowly, to let your body open up around the enormity of him inside you, and he does, as best as he’s able.

There’s still a burn, just as hard as you love it, when he goes fast and keeps moving. When his hips meet yours, you swear he’s fucking you deeper than anyone else has ever been capable of, tearing you apart under his hands and his mouth and his cock because he can’t satiate his own hunger for you without it.

Adrian can’t stop kissing you, his hand threaded up through the hair at the nape of your neck, wound in tight. His other hand holds firm to your thigh, your ass, your hip, spread across your body, holding you in place so he can fuck into you as hard as he wants, as fast as he wants, keeping as much of a rhythm as he can. You’re falling apart under him, a pleasant heat coiling and building and choking you off.

It swells to fill you, and Adrian can’t stop begging you, even though he’s the one fucking you. He begs you, “Please,” and “Fuck,” and “Yes,” and “More,” and “God,” and your name, and nonsense, just— mumbled, garbled nothings, praising you and telling you he loves and insisting he’s dying all in equal measure.

You can feel him drawing closer to his climax, can feel the coiling tension of his body, the stiffening of his muscles. He draws nearer, his kisses growing sloppy; he kisses in a wet drag to your ear, buries in your throat as he fucks you, so close to the edge.

“Mm—” he starts, then bites off, “Ah— Ahh, motherfucker, please, please, please—”

You can’t help the sharp sound you make, this time, tearing up from your belly up to the back of your throat and out. You’re so close, so close, and you grind up into him, trying to get that last bit of friction.

He comes back around for another kiss, digging you back into the cushions. His hand threads down between your bodies instead, getting his fingertips against your core, and you roll your hips, pushing into him, chasing your edge.

Your mouth has gone dry, your climax just within arm’s reach. You grapple for Adrian, and he does the same for you, pulling you into a kiss as he breaks off a soft cry into your mouth and cums.

His hips work, twitching into you, his mouth going slack, jaw falling as he tips his forehead into yours. His glasses are at the end of his nose, pressing into your cheeks as you tilt to kiss him. He keeps fucking you through his orgasm, even as he fills you, floods you, chest heaving as he surrounds you from above. He pins you down into the sofa and just keeps moving, doesn’t stop until you’re cumming, too, crying on a broken breath as you cling to him and let sensation take over you, mind, body, and soul, or whatever the fuck fills the place your soul should be. You think that might have Adrian in it right now, too.

Your own chest is heaving as you come back to yourself, your hazy mind unable to think of anything except the pounding pleasure coursing through your body is relaxing waves as your brain circles the thought, Adrian, Adrian, Adrian, and nothing more.

Adrian, for his part, collapses into you, nuzzling down, burying himself in you.

“You were right,” he says. He kisses your cheek, shifting to turn the both of you, arms wrapped around you. “I definitely needed a change of pace.” You laugh as he continues, “Like— I really do love my job, I do, but sewing my stupid costume is nowhere near as cool as getting my dick sucked my an Olympic pro cock-swallower—”

“Adrian,” you laugh, throat still a little rough. “Jesus—”

Adrian tips his head up, kissing the column of your throat. He lifts his head up, propping himself up over you. His cock’s still inside you, impossibly filling you even as he’s softening. You don’t want him to go, so you tighten your thighs around him.

He makes a soft, broken little noise. His eyes flick up to meet yours, and there’s patchy color on his cheeks.

“Don’t go,” you say. He laughs.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises you. “Not until dinnertime, anyway.”

You glance backwards, then sigh. “We should’ve eaten, like— Two hours ago. I didn’t even notice, I’m sorry—”

“Hey, don’t worry,” he replies. He reaches up, strokes his hand through your sweaty hair before he smacks a kiss down on the line of your jaw. “You had something to eat, at least.”

You take a beat. Then, you laugh. “There is no nutritional value—”

“Says you!” Adrian exclaims. “You don’t know! You—”

You tip him up into another kiss. He smiles into it, lets you devour him. The kiss turns lazy, just slowly searching each other’s mouths, a sweet exploration before you pull apart again.

His heart is racing; you can feel it against your own chest. He pushes up your shirt again, lets his hand come up to rest just beneath your chest, holding you close. When he tucks in close to you again, he shifts you just enough that you can rest your head on his chest.

“Here, hold on—” he says, and shuffles around.

The sensation is— sending shockwaves up your spine, but Adrian does actually manage to use his strength to maneuver the two of you until he’s on his back and you’re pillowed on top of him, your cheek pressing into his chest, his cock still buried inside you.

He kisses the top of your head, then says, “There, okay. Now we can rest.”

“Before dinner,” you remind him. He groans. “I’ll make you something, if you want.”

He perks up a bit. Even your worst meals, he’s declared on more than one occasion, are better than him at his best. Everyone else in the 11th Street Kids disagrees, but you think it’s more evidence of how much Adrian loves you than any genuine culinary talent here.

“Well,” he says, as your hand comes up to cup his cheek, your fingers starting to thread through his hair, pulling through the drying waves. “If you insist.”

You laugh, tucking down into him. You bury your face in his throat, kissing the strong line of it where he’s closest to your lips. His pulse rabbits beneath your lips, slowing into a calmer, sweeter pace as you both relax together again.

“I do,” you tell him, “actually,” and kiss his cheek again before tucking back in, burrowing, holding on tight.

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requests used:

"Caution: nsfw content please don't read if you are uncomfy: Everyone talks about how Adrian loves to eat pussy and gets off on it. But he'd be oh so responsive to getting head. I'd love to just have him fall apart as u take care of him. And then make him some food and the sweetest of aftercares" (anonymous)

"Can I send a request too? 😁 Reader asking to Adrian to be their pillow (rest their head on his arm and lap an even sleep on his chest... And hump him like a pillow 👀) Tell me if I don't follow any rule, I tried to send it right" (anonymous)

"i have a THOUGHT i conjured up from looking at the hospital adrian gifs u reblogged: they still have his suit and everything right???? Like he’s gonna have to make a new one since the fandoms collectively decided he makes his own (tbh he’d have to anyways after what it looked like after ep 8 but I digress) so like imagine trying 2 help him with it but ur ass at sewing so u just kinda sit there handing him stuff and swooning over his weirdly good sewing skills instead while he talks and talks and talks to u abt the most random shit cause he’s so happy to have company this time that isn’t just himself and u just both act so lovingly domestic towards each other <3 mmm he makes my brain good" (anonymous)

"hey!! i love your writing with adrian :)) i don’t have a specific request in mind, but i would love more with the size difference trope! the one fic you wrote about it was so adorable!" (anonymous)

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adrian chase taglist:

@deputyrook @bb-skyrunner @himboelover @pieriinova @gcldtom @violetrainbow412-blog @amysuemc @saturnngal @neptuneswritingwork @jewishdelis @myguiltypleasures21 @pinkygunslingy @chaseadrian @breathing-in-waves @rishlurh @goblynnrockz @theowritesstuff @themartiansdaughter @dallasvakarian @missscarlettangel @samantha24015 @hillaryroadheadcllinton @ohmybubbletea @buckys-estrella @witchywcmans @ladyrebel25 @eviejune @vigilantesluvr @qjuiq-odakyu @xothatnerdykid @awkwardfangirl2014 @thevalkyrior @mattsmanpain @sunflowerfive @deirdre-belle @anthonyedwinstark @sexysquatch @jelliebeanss @zofps @crimscnrains @trans-librarian @nellethiel-aranel @probablyasatanworshipper @phoenixhalliwell @perseajohnson @eeveeangelcakes @freyafriggafrey @psychadelictoadie @middimidoris @gaygonegirl @herbsschmerbs @satansrighthandmanchild @seeking-a-great--perhaps @ev-june @bvcksmurdock @staticspouse @acupnoodle