#but I’m the only woman at this company and I don’t feel comfortable saying anything

[reality-schmality]

I have done nearly no work at all in the last week because I cannot focus for the life of me and it’s baaaaaaaaaad.

My period has gone completely off the rails and my hormones are all over the map. I’m overwhelmingly depressed and crying at the drop of a hat and just I can’t function.

[ohthewh0rror]

WE ABOUT TO KISS RIGHT NOW?

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ prompt — Just some tidbits of fluff for whichever slytherin boy you pick. You’ve got three choices: Mattheo (the childish one), Tom (who has never felt the touch of a woman), or maybe Theo (resident lover boy).

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader / Mattheo x Reader / Theo x Reader

Word Count: 848

Tom R.

Truthfully, the sight was mildly unsettling. Tom was a very composed individual, never a hair out of place and always impeccably dressed. So seeing him now, as he sat in the furthest corner of the shop where he worked, his elbows resting on his knees as he rested his head in his hands was…concerning. His slender, pale fingers slid up to his dark curls and gripped his hair at the root.

Tom, who seemed untouchable and almost god-like, suddenly looked human. It was the first time you had ever seen Tom display a genuine emotion, his usual facade slipping away. You weren’t sure what to do, as your friendship was fairly new. You weren’t sure how he was going to respond to your attempt at comforting him, but you figured that as long as you left here in one piece, you’d count it as a win.

You placed a gentle hand on his knee, and took in a breath to steady your nerves before you decided to speak. “We don’t have to talk, I just wanted to let you know that I’m here…in case you do want to.” It was another few seconds of silence before Tom sat up and one of the hands that was once holding his head up came to rest on top of your’s. As his fingers curled around your hand, you saw the ghost of a smile on his face, and a look of mild appreciation in his eyes.

Bringing your hand up to his lips, he placed a loving kiss on your palm, before getting out of his seat without a word, leaving you awestruck in the back of the desolate store.

Mattheo R.

"Hey, there's something on your lips?" Mattheo gestured to your mouth, there was a smirk on his face, the same one he gets when he’s trying to mess with you. You were skeptical, not knowing if you should trust him, but you didn’t want to continue walking around with something on your lips either just in case he was being honest. “Really?” Your hand came up, fingers about to swipe whatever was there off, when Mattheo caught your wrist. “What are you—” your question was cut off as Mattheo’s lips connected with yours.

The kiss was short and sweet, almost a peck, leaving you secretly wanting more from him. Mattheo pulled away slightly, eyeing your lips, “I think it’s still there,” he mumbled. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you, feeling your face grow hot. You playfully shoved him away from you, trying to put some space between you in hopes of gathering what little self control you had in you to resist the urge to kiss him again.

“I can't stand you,” was all you said as you attempted to get away from the flirt you called your boyfriend.

Theo N.

“Would it be weird if I kissed you? be honest,” was what Theo greeted you with as he came to stand next to you, a warm hand resting on your back. Though you tried to put on an annoyed front, you were glad he decided to come keep you company; even if it was to tease you. Everyone knew the crush you’ve had on him since 5th year, you were sure even Theo has figured it out by now. And, to be honest, it was almost embarrassing. You’d hoped after graduation your feelings would fade, as you’d see less of him, but the distance seems to have only made it worse.

“Honestly? yes,” it almost killed you to say that, but it was the truth. The two of you hadn’t seen each other in two months and you were also currently attending a charity gala. A kiss between two people who were not together, standing in the middle of an important event, would be all anyone talked about for the next few weeks. There was a pregnant pause, neither of you saying anything, Theo seemingly lost in thought as he stared at you.

“Hey, Y/N?” You heard Theo ask, trying to get your attention as you had looked away from him, trying to distract yourself from the pounding of your heart. You hummed in acknowledgement, and when Theo said nothing, you turned your head to look at him. Well, that was the plan anyway, but as you turned your head to face him Theo met you halfway.

You weren't sure what you thought your first kiss with Theo would be like, but even you could have never guessed it’d be so passionate. In the distance you could hear the flashing of a camera and rabid whispering, but you could care less.

You’ve been waiting for the moment for years, and you refuse to let anything ruin it.

[ncis-nerd]

Unforgettable Rain

Boss Wanda Maximoff x College Student Reader , Wanda x Nat , Slight Nat x Reader

about: wanda asks y/n to come in on her day off, to "file papers". is that it or did she want something more?

secret untold au

The rain trickled down your window, you had it slightly cracked open. You didn’t want the rain to come inside but you still wanted to be able to hear it.

You loved the sound of rain, it was so comforting. It reminded you of your childhood when you would go outside in the rain with your older sister and father. You’d dance like no one was watching, it was so fun. You missed them so much everyday.

Especially when it rains, it was never quiet when it rained, not only because of the sound of the rain but also because of the laughter and giggles that escaped their lips when you’d dance so freely.

You sat curled up, drinking a warm cup of hot chocolate as you watched the rain. That’s when your phone got an alert. You got a message from Wanda, your boss.

Since that first day she would send you on tasks outside of her office, it felt like she was avoiding you. Her face once so warm and welcoming now felt so cold and distant. You were a little hurt by this, but you still had to do your job. Even if the two of you didn’t get along.

(5:38 P.M.) W. Maximoff: “Hey Y/N, are you able to come into the office? I know it is a bit late so I understand if you cannot.”

(5:39 P.M.) Y/N: “No, no it’s fine. I’m not doing anything, I can come in.”

(5:40 P.M.) W Maximoff: “Perfect, thank you darling.”

You threw on a hoodie, and changed into presentable pants before leaving for the office. Your mind still went back to your first day where you made a fool of yourself in front of your new boss. What a great way to meet her, by falling for her on the steps outside her own building.

When you look up, you find yourself at the office. It’s a quick walk from your apartment as you don’t live that far from the office. You noticed that the rain had stopped when you left your house. You however, failed to bring an umbrella with you. It had slipped your mind that the rain could start back up when you left your house.

You knocked on her door, “Wanda? It’s me.” You spoke softly. She opened her door to let you in. She wasn’t alone in here, there was a woman sitting on her couch. Not just any woman, the woman from her painting. Her wife. She was wearing a suit, her red hair in curls, it looked so free and loose.

The woman noticed your staring, that’s when her raspy voice spoke up “Hi there, my name is Natasha. My wife told me about you, Y/N Y/L/N right?” You nodded, her voice was so hypnotizing, you bit your lip.

“So, I hope my wife hasn’t made you feel uncomfortable but the reason I called you in on your day off was to ask you if you could file these papers for me?” She asked, handing you a box of papers in it. You nodded, reaching for the box. Her lips opened but no words came out, it looked as if she had more she wanted to say.

You found it a bit strange that your boss had asked you to come in on your day off just to file papers, especially since there were other employees that could do that task for her You shrugged it off and got to filing.

You felt Wanda and Natasha's eyes glancing at each other, as if they were having a silent conversation.

That's when Natasha finally spoke, Wanda's eyes darken. “So, Y/N.. I know we haven't known you that long but do you happen to be occupied next Friday evening?” Natasha hummed.

This sparked your curiosity as you had no plans that day, or at all. You were an introvert who happened to protect your peace a little too much so now you hardly have a social life.

The two women waited for your response. “No, nothing that I could think of. Why?” You asked.

“Well, my wife wanted to ask you if you would join us at this dinner party for their company. It's a business party.” Natasha's raspy voice spoke.

Really? They wanted you there? You were just some new intern but this warmed your heart that Wanda wanted you there.

“I-I would love that! But what should I wear? What's the dress code?” You stuttered, your anxiety running through your head.

What if you embarrassed yourself there too? What if your clothes didn't match the vibe? Your thoughts were racing. Natasha and Wanda could sense your anxiety.

Natasha quickly silenced those thoughts. She brought her thumb to stroke your cheek. “Well it's moreso just dressing professional but if it would make you feel comfortable, you can match with us, Detka.” Natasha smiled. Her touch was so warm, it made you feel better.

Detka? You scrunched your nose trying to figure out the meaning behind the foreign word. “Don't worry about that, sweetheart. Natasha and I will be wearing burgundy. You're welcome to match us if you want, darling.” Wanda spoke up, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You nodded and went back to filing the papers like your boss asked. After a while, Wanda checks her watch. “So late already?” Wanda spoke, shutting her computer.

You looked up as the two women packed up their stuff. “Thank you so much for coming in darling.” Wanda sighed, rubbing her temple.

Natasha frowned, sensing her wife's incoming headache. That's when you noticed the rain had started back up. Great.

"Are you okay?” You can see Natasha mouth this to Wanda. Wanda nods in response as they walk with you, out of the building.

“Oh gosh, do you see this rain Nat?” Wanda spoke, an ounce of concern in her face. Natasha nodded, “Yeah. Say, Y/N how are you getting home?” Natasha asked you.

“Oh I'm walking, I don't live too far.” You responded, gathering your things as you handed Wanda the box of newly filed papers.

“In this rain? Nonsense, let us give you a drop.” Natasha hummed. She didn’t want you to get wet or possibly sick in this terrible rain.

“Oh, it's okay you don't have to.” You immediately responded. You knew that it was a short walk and nothing new as you have walked in the rain (and danced in it) multiple times.

“Darling, we are giving you a ride. End of story.” Wanda spoke firm but you could tell that she just cared about you. Even behind that wall she ahd built up.

[withleeknow]

wishful thinking. (05)

chapter five: say what you mean

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; mentions of sex, kissing, we’re starting to dip our toes into angsty territory !!, less edited than i’d like but what’s new lol word count: 2.8k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / series masterpost / taglist

Get me a drink, I get drunk off one sip, just so I can adore you I want the entire street out of town just so I can be alone with you Now go when you’re ready My head’s getting heavy, pressed against your arm Just to adore you, I adore you

Adore - Dean Lewis

Whenever Minho asks if you two could hang out together at your place, it usually means that you will end up in your bed.

Tonight you suppose is no different.

Even though you often cap off the night having engaged in activities that could make the Victorian lady in Hyunjin faint, it’s not all that you do. Both you and Minho never let yourselves forget that you’re friends first and foremost. Sex is the added benefit that should never take anything away from your friendship. He is still one of the people you’re most comfortable with, one of the few people whose company you enjoy.

You’re sprawled out on the couch in your small living room when Minho returns from the kitchen with a plate of freshly peeled tangerines, the same ones that he brought over earlier. You push yourself to half-sit up so he could squeeze himself between you and the armrest, before you go back to laying your head on his lap as you two resume watching a bad movie that you put on.

“I hate this so much,” you comment, your eyes glued to the TV screen.

“You picked the movie,” Minho says. “It’s not that bad. The plot is kind of decent.”

“I’m not talking about that. Jeez, if they wanted to make a movie where the main character is a graphic designer, you’d think that they would at least consult someone who knows literally anything about visual art. Look at that horrendous typography job, the text isn’t even aligned with the edges and corners. This is hurting my soul.”

Your cushions (Minho’s thighs) shake lightly as he laughs at your dramatic outburst over something as trivial as a fictional character’s poor standards of digital art. But you really aren’t kidding; the way the woman on screen is butchering the text alignment is quite literally making that very particular part of your brain want to shut down for the next five to seven business days.

“They should’ve consulted you first, is that right?” Minho asks.

“They really should have. I could’ve done wonders for them,” you say matter-of-factly. “I almost majored in graphic design, y’know.”

You have a habit of biting your tongue around others because you know that people don’t really care about the same things you do. Whenever the opportunity arises for you to share tidbits about your interests, excitement would tumble out of you only to be quashed soon after when no one wants to listen to your silly little rambles. It’s disheartening, you’re used to it.

But you never feel that way around Minho. He always lets you babble on about anything and everything, even if he might not know what the hell you’re talking about. He indulges you. He never makes you feel neglected or ignored.

“Hmm, my little genius artist.” He taps your cheek once, and when you turn your head to glance at him, he tells you to open up before he slips a slice of tangerine past your lips. “You’re right. Even I can tell that it’s horrendous.”

You hum appreciatively when the sweetness of the juicy fruit floods your tastebuds. Minho’s hand trails down your arm to rest on your stomach, just below your ribs where he fiddles with the worn fabric of your sleep shirt. If he moves his hand up, he would be grazing your bare chest underneath your shirt. You didn’t bother with a bra because, well, comfort above all else, especially within the four walls of your own home. Besides, it’s nothing that Minho hasn’t seen anyway.

He keeps on feeding you tangerines in between your complaints about bad design standards until the movie ends and the plate is cleared. The only sound in the room is the soft music on the TV as the credits start to roll.

You turn to lie on your back, staring up at Minho. “That was deeply disturbing.”

“You chose it,” he reminds you. “You went in knowing what the premise was.”

“Yeah, I have no one to blame but me. I had too much faith in humanity.”

“And you call me weird.”

“You are weird,” you say. “But I like weird.”

Minho looks down at you and for a moment, he says nothing. His fingers trace something on your stomach. A heart or an odd circle, you don’t know; you’re always bad at deciphering those. His eyelids fall a bit, softening the usual sharpness of his gaze.

Then he’s pulling you by your shoulders, guiding you to sit up and before you know it, you’re situated on his lap with one of his hands on your waist, the other on the back of your neck. Minho tugs you closer, meeting your lips in a kiss in which you waste no time returning.

He’s sweet, like the tangerines that you were sharing all evening. It tends to start like this - sort of randomly, whenever it feels right. He squeezes your side in a comforting gesture as his tongue slips into your mouth. There are times where it’s more urgent, where one of you is needy and desperately seeks the escape and release that can only be found in the other’s embrace. Other times, it’s slower, more gentle, where you can really focus on making each other feel fully satiated.

This, right now - you would pinpoint somewhere in the middle. There’s no fiery clothes-ripping urge, nor a need to lay the other person bare and knead every single knot of stress from their system. Today, there’s just languid wanting; an unhurried inclination to be close.

Him and his tangerine flavored kiss, you and your resolve built on shaky foundation.

You start rolling your hips over his, tugging on his shirt because you want to feel his skin against yours. Minho stops you though; he puts both hands on your hips and pulls his lips away from yours. You blink, dazed, confused.

“I...” he starts, trying to even out his breathing as he finds the words. “I don’t want to have sex tonight.”

Embarrassment instantly washes over you. The rejection is a little humiliating; it’s the first time you’ve ever felt like this around him. Your cheeks catch fire from the mortification, and you’re very aware that you’re still sitting in his lap, right over his crotch.

Wanting to climb off of him and just fucking bury yourself in a ditch, you start stuttering like an absolute fool, “Oh... Y-yeah, no, of course! Shit, shit, I’m sorry. Of course we don’t have t-”

Minho holds you in place, one of the hands on your hips goes to cup your cheek to make you look at him. It effectively shuts you right up.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have phrased it like that,” he says, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone in an earnest apology. “I just want to keep kissing you. Is that okay?”

You’re at a loss for words. He’s holding your face, your waist, so delicately. He looks drunk on your presence alone even though neither of you have had a single drop of alcohol tonight, so sincere in his simple request that you feel your heart swell tenfold.

You want it too. You’re more than okay with just kissing him.

You don’t answer him verbally. Instead, you just nod and move to kiss him again, your hands tangled in his soft hair. The sweetness of the tangerines grows more and more distant as you chase his lips, but you can taste his smile. It’s infinitely more saccharine, and it only grows sweeter when he holds you close and knocks the breath out of you.

When you pull away for air, you slump against him, hiding your face in the crook of his face, shy all of a sudden. He keeps you there but continues with his onslaught of kisses - on your hair, your cheek, your neck, anywhere his lips can reach. Like he simply can’t get enough of you.

“You really like kissing,” you comment, giggling quietly as you do. “Even when we… y’know, bone.”

“Bone? You’re so romantic, babe.” You feel the rumbles of Minho’s chest as he lets out a hearty laugh, the sound of which fills the space of your modest home, embeds itself in every nook and crevice, in between every minuscule crack in your walls until the whole place feels warmer, brighter somehow. “Are you complaining?”

“No... just pointing it out.”

“Well, I like kissing you,” he says. “You’re not a terrible kisser, I guess.”

You sit up straighter and catch the teasing grin on his face before you roll your eyes. “Gee, thanks. You really know how to sweet talk a girl.”

“Says the girl who uses ‘bone’ to describe sex.”

“It’s a perfectly good euphemism for ‘sex’.”

“You might as well just say ‘boink’.”

“Literally shut up.”

“Sure.”

Then he’s pressing his mischievous smile against your mouth once more, and you can’t really wrap your mind around how it’s even possible that he keeps getting sweeter and sweeter. His sugary kisses send warmth tingling up your spine, make a fluttery sensation erupt in your stomach. You’re lightheaded, and not the kind that can be remedied by a sufficient fix of blood oxygen.

Even though you’re perfectly content with kissing, there’s a certain implication that comes with only kissing that you’re not sure what to do with. He’s literally inside of you on a weekly basis and yet, this feels much more intimate than anything you two have ever done.

Because friends don’t kiss each other the way he’s kissing you right now. Friends don’t kiss each other the way you’re kissing him back.

A chime from your phone breaks you two apart, the intrusion forcing a mildly frustrated grunt from Minho. You find the mobile device hidden between the cushions of your couch, and after you quickly scan the notification on the screen, you tell him, “It’s Hyunjin.”

“What did I say? It’s always him at the scene of the crime,” Minho mutters, speaking in the same tone that one would when their sibling interrupts a round of their favorite video game. “What does he want?”

“Just wants me to send him a photo of the sample portfolio from our class.”

“Ignore him. He can wait.”

“He’ll call me if I don’t reply.”

“He’s so annoying,” Minho grumbles but loosens his hold on you nonetheless. “Hurry back.”

“It’ll only take a minute, you big baby,” you chuckle, pressing a swift peck to his lips before you get up from the couch and head toward your bedroom with your phone in hand, searching for the binder that Hyunjin is asking about.

Once you’ve snapped the picture and sent it to your friend, you return to the living room. When Minho hears your footsteps, he holds out an arm, silently beckoning you into his embrace again. And you do. You slide into the space next to him, slotting perfectly against his side.

Your fingers absentmindedly trace along his forearm until they reach his wrist. “This is pretty,” you say, touching the thin link bracelet that he always wears, the one with a small charm hanging off the center in the simple outline of a dove.

“You like it? I’ve had it for ages.”

“Mhmm, it suits you.”

A moment passes where you both sit in silence as you fiddle with the gold jewelry, and you can feel Minho’s eyes on your face the entire time. After a while, he pries your fingers off his skin, only to swiftly take off the trinket.

“No, Min. What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer you. You attempt (in vain) to pull your wrist back but Minho is stronger. He holds it in place as he clasps the chain around your wrist.

“Minho, you are not giving me your bracelet.”

“Relax. It’s not like it was passed down from my great-great-grandfather. It’s just a random bracelet I bought when I was 18.”

“Why would you even give me your bracelet?”

He shrugs, as though he’s merely doing something as simple as letting you borrow you a pen. “It looks good on you.”

You look down to where his hand is still on your skin, his thumb gently sliding over your pulse point as he admires how the dainty gold reflects the dim lighting in your home.

And he’s right. It does look good, but he probably doesn’t mean it in the same way that you’re thinking of right now. You think it looks good because it’s something that belongs to him that’s now wrapped snugly around your wrist, like some sort of affirmation spoken in a language that only the two of you can understand.

Minho leans over and presses his warm lips to your forehead. It takes you by surprise, the way he does it as if it’s second nature to be this affectionate with you. It’s a tipping point, then suddenly your thoughts are running rampant.

The instruction has always been plain and simple: No strings attached.

But...

The chaste kisses with no expectation of sex, being protective when you’re in the presence of other guys, even giving you his bracelet to wear just because you said it was pretty.

Why do all of these sound an awful lot like strings?

You hesitate, then you ask, “What are we doing?”

“Hmm? You wanna watch another movie?”

“No, that’s not... What are we doing?” You don’t even know what word to put more emphasis on.

Minho looks at you and loosens his fingers. What he can’t understand through your words, you think he sees it in your eyes. “Say what you mean.”

“Are we friends?”

“Of course we are.”

“Are we still friends?”

“Do you not want to be friends anymore?” He cracks a smile, but you can tell that he’s just doing it to lighten you up. “You have terrible timing. I literally just gave you a bracelet.”

“Friends don’t do that.”

“Friends don’t give each other bracelets?”

“Friends don’t kiss like that.”

Minho seems a bit taken aback, though he regains his composure in mere seconds, his voice calm as he tells you, “Friends don’t have sex either.”

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t know. What are you saying? You brought it up.”

You open your mouth, only to subsequently close it because your thoughts were never really that coherent in the first place. You look away from him to glance down at your wrist.

“You’re being confusing,” Minho says quietly, honestly.

“I just… I don’t want anything to change.”

“Did anything change for you?” he asks.

“No,” is what you tell him after a long minute, when what you really mean to say is I don’t know. You can see it as it happens, some stars fading from his eyes, some light growing more faint in his irises. Though the despondence on his face disappears so fast that you’re not sure if it was even there at all, or if it was only a figment of your imagination.

Then you throw the question back at him. “Did anything change? For you?”

Minho’s answer is the same as yours - a clear No - and yet, it makes you feel like you’ve been punctured by something sharp. You don’t know why your heart drops upon hearing him say the exact same thing that you did, but you try not to let it show on your face. Your poker face isn’t anywhere as good as his, but you hope that it’s enough.

You give him a tight-lipped smile and nod a little.

“Then nothing’s changed.” He strokes your hair, emphasizing his point with a soft smile as he reassures you, “And nothing has to change. It’s a bracelet, don’t overthink it. We’re good.”

Sometimes, the decisions you make are bad because you can foresee the outcomes, or at least, you have an idea of the consequences will be later on and yet, you still choose to go through with it anyway.

Just like how you chose to watch a movie you knew would drive you crazy with its trivial details, you choose to accept the feeling of Minho’s bracelet around your wrist. You choose to believe him when he said nothing has changed, and that nothing has to change. You choose to sweep under the rug the thoughts that you’ve been having about him lately. You choose to overlook the reason why you’ve been having those thoughts instead of facing it head-on because you’re terrified of what you’d find if you dig deeper.

You choose to let the conversation end here though it still lingers in your mind, and you choose to let him kiss you goodnight when he leaves because tonight has already been a series of bad decision after bad decision anyway.

And when you fall asleep, it’s the soothing coolness of the golden dove against your skin that lulls you to slumber, like he’s here right beside you to hold you through the night.

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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 18.02.2024]

[frvnkcastles]

Could I please request one where reader is dating Frank but kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop, wondering when or if Frank’s going to break up with her constantly since her last boyfriend (and several ex “best” friends) left/ghosted/broke up with her unexpectedly for no reason so she doesn’t know why and worries about her body/everything she wears and everything she says and does and is trying not to do anything wrong so Frank doesn’t do the same to her but Frank of course catches on, finds out the problem and makes her see different and that’s she beautiful and worth staying and being cared for even though it’s hard to believe because no one has ever chosen her and wanted to stay before…

Thank you, I love your work ❤️😊

I CAN SEE A LOVE RESTRAINED ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You’ve been hurt one too many times, and letting Frank in isn’t as easy as you’d like it to be.

Warnings: Abandonment/trust issues, body image issues, angst, hurt/comfort, reader is friends with Matt, feminine nicknames, language

Word count: 3.2k

Author’s note: Thank you so much for the support, anon! I definitely understand this feeling that you described and it really sucks. That said, I’m positive people will appreciate you and see how wonderful you are, don’t give up <3

It was fair to say that your past relationships, romantic as well as platonic, had left their mark on you. You were a naturally affectionate and loving kind of woman but being left on multiple occasions had hardened you, made you more reluctant to share the love that you had within you. It was a natural reaction — you just didn’t want to get hurt again, and so, you settled for keeping people at a distance, never really allowing yourself to lower your defenses enough to let anyone in.

That proved to be extremely hard when you met Frank. He was handsome and intriguing, not a very talkative guy but he had effortlessly made you smile and laugh, regardless. He had been reserved about you, too, mostly because he wasn’t looking for anything casual nor serious, and he certainly didn’t trust Red to find him the kind of company he liked. But when his friend of sorts had insisted on introducing you to him, annoyingly persistent, he had caved in and figured it couldn’t hurt to give a chance to the person Red spoke so highly of.

”How come you ain’t together if she’s so perfect?” Frank had questioned, fully suspicious of Matt and his intentions, but the man had quickly laughed him off.

”I don’t think we’re meant to be anything more than friends. But she’s a wonderful person and I think you’d hit it off. I’m not just doing this for you, I think she could use some company, too”, Matt had explained, not entirely acting with your blessing. In fact, you had no idea what he was up to, but he knew you well enough — you were getting lonely whether you wanted to admit or not, and despite their disagreements, he knew Frank could be worthy of your time.

And that was how you ended up shaking Frank’s hand in your favorite bar where you never went to find company, just a drink after a long week. Matt had known you’d be there and more or less shoved Frank inside, and as annoyed as he was, Frank couldn’t deny that the sight of you immediately made his heart skip a beat.

”Did Matt put you up to this?” you asked eventually, well-aware that the two of them worked together often. It wasn’t frequent for Matt to set you up with anyone, but he was the only thing common between you and Frank, and you weren’t stupid.

Caught, Frank chuckled. ”Yeah, yeah, he did. I ain’t gonna lie, I had my reservations but uh, talkin’ to you… I don’t regret comin’ in here. You seem real sweet”, he admitted, his eyes lingering on your figure. Not only did he find you sweet, he thought you were absolutely gorgeous, and he fucking hated the fact that he was going to have to tell Matt he had been right.

You blushed at Frank’s words and shrugged. ”Thanks, but I—I’m not really looking for anything right now. You seem great too, don’t get me wrong”, you gave him a half-apology, chewing on your lip nervously. He was charming, you had to give him that much, but you really weren’t up for having your heart broken yet again, and so, you found it best to keep Frank at an arm’s length.

”Hey, I get it. Can’t say I was expectin’ anything much when I walked through that door but I guess you kinda got me rethinkin’, ’s all”, he nodded in understanding before licking his lips and taking the plunge. ”Maybe we could get another drink sometime? No pressure, no expectations. Just hangin’ out, I guess”, Frank went on, a hopeful look in his eyes, and it wore you down.

”Sure”, you swallowed, feeling familiar anxiety rush in your veins as you agreed.

But like he said, there were no expectations. It could just be two friends grabbing a beer, nothing more. So, you gave him your phone number and hoped for the best.

You met up a couple of times after that. Frank couldn’t believe he was being so forward and that he really was so into you, but it was a fact he couldn’t deny. He had a strong will and good self-control, but he found himself losing all of that around you. Previously used to solitude and being wary of new connections, he now felt hooked on you, needing more and more even if he was willing to do it on your terms.

He could tell you liked him back, though. As much as you tried not to, you couldn’t help it. You started to feel less lonely and he occupied your thoughts on a daily basis, and it scared the shit out of you. You weren’t ready to fall in love again, but it seemed your heart wasn’t waiting for permission.

A few weeks passed with you getting to know one another, and one night, he was walking you home in the dark night, far too protective to let you make it all by yourself. Once at the door of your apartment building, you both lingered, not quite ready to say goodbye, but unsure what else there was left to say.

”I had a good time, sweetheart. I’m glad you ain’t sick of my clingy ass yet”, he joked, and it made you smile nervously. You were mere inches away from each other, his taller build towering over you with his fingertips brushing against yours. Your heart was hammering in your chest and you could feel the undeniable tension in the air, and so could he.

”Of course, not. I like spending time with you”, you whispered, quiet but close enough for Frank to hear. His heart soared at your words, flattered and honored that for someone who chose her company carefully, you had given him the time of the day.

His eyes fell to your lips, and when you didn’t pull away, he made the move and leaned in. Right before his lips could graze yours, though, you ducked your head with a swell of panic in your chest. It was all too real suddenly and the idea of moving from a mutual interest to something concrete terrified you.

”Shit”, Frank breathed out, squeezing his eyes shut. ”Sorry, I shoulda asked. Just thought… Doesn’t matter. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable”, he added while stepping back, and in an instant, guilt and regret took over your body. Seeing the rejection on his face hurt worse than the risk of letting him in, and that was enough for you to know that kiss or no kiss, you were in too deep.

”No, I’m sorry. It’s me, I—I just can’t. Sorry”, you repeated before turning your heel and rushing inside, too embarrassed to stay and look at Frank’s hurt face any longer.

He frowned at your words, but let you go. He had pushed your limits enough for one night, but even if he didn’t stop you from running indoors, he couldn’t help but get stuck on what you had said. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him back, something else was holding you back, and that caused worry to flare up in him. Clearly, someone had hurt you badly, and he felt pure anger at the simple thought of it.

That same night, he tracked Red down, itching to pick a fight, but mostly he wanted to find out what was stopping you from going all in. He could sympathize — after all, he had closed himself off to relationships after Maria, and even now, when he had grown so attached to you, he struggled with that little nagging guilt in the back of his head that didn’t want him to move on.

”She ain’t ready, Red. Wanna tell me what happened or should I punch it out of ya?” Frank grumbled as he joined Matt on the rooftop, an unhappy look on his face that only deepened when he saw the mysterious smile on his friend’s face.

”You weren’t ready, either”, Matt retorted before sighing deeply. ”She’s been hurt a lot, Frank. Every guy she’s been with has broken her heart. It’s the same with best friends, too. Everyone leaves her. So, yeah, she’s careful about who she lets in”, he continued, causing the anger to fade from Frank’s face. At least Red had stayed, but he knew he wasn’t the most stable presence, either. He didn’t think he himself would be, for that matter, but he wanted so badly to prove to you that he’d stick around.

”She don’t deserve that”, Frank grunted, unable to understand why anyone would turn their back on you. Sure, you were stunning in a way that took his breath away, but you were also a good, caring person. You had such a big heart and you were an excellent listener, not to mention how funny you could be. And even though you knew who Frank was and what he had done, you had never judged him.

”I agree. That’s why I wanted you to meet with her. Platonic or romantic, I knew you could appreciate her for who she is”, Matt explained, and sighing, Frank couldn’t deny that he had been right. He thought you were amazing, and he really wanted you to know that.

So, the next day, he made his way to your apartment. He was uncharacteristically nervous, his usual cool demeanor cracking under the pressure of the situation, but he was good at concealing it. He stood on your doorstep, calm and collected, and once he had knocked and you opened the door, you couldn’t have suspected he was feeling troubled in any way.

”Frank”, you exhaled, honestly surprised. You were sure that your refusal to kiss him would have pushed him away, but here he was, and you reluctantly felt relieved. You had given him enough reason to walk away, but he kept showing up, and it gave you hope.

”Red told me about your shitty exes. I want ya to know that they’re assholes for leavin’ you like that and that… that I wouldn’t do that. I know I come with a lot of baggage, but I swear to you, I’d treat you right, sweetheart. Shit, you really… you really got me, y’know? I really care about you and I wish I could make you less scared ’cause I know you care about me, too”, he rambled, calling you out in a way that maybe you needed to be.

Gulping, you nodded to confirm he was right. ”I do care about you. I wish I didn’t, but I do”, you confessed, sending his heart reeling. ”I just don’t want to be let down again. I really can’t do it again”, you pointed out, not sure if Frank would get it, but he did.

”I hear you, sweetheart. It ain’t the same thing, but I know loss, and I don’t wanna go through it again. Maybe we could learn to trust again together. I know it’s fuckin’ scary to let your guard down, I sure as hell have a hard time with it, but you make me wanna try”, he shared, his voice so soft and careful. He wasn’t used to opening up about his feelings, but he knew you needed honesty, and he wanted to give it to you.

”Okay. I… I think I can do that. I want to trust you”, you told him, sparking a smile on his face.

Hesitating, he stepped closer to you and took his hand in your own. ”Can I kiss you?” he asked in that low, husky tone of his, full of want, and it sent a shiver down your body. You nodded, and he broke into a grin, cradling your face in one massive hand and dropping his mouth to yours. It was slow and careful, just testing the waters, but you could tell he was holding back, and it made your stomach do flips. He really wanted you, needed you even, and that felt so good.

He was willing to take things slow. However you wanted him, he was yours. And sure enough, you fell into a comfortable rhythm with him, both of you head over heels for one another, and Matt was pleased whenever you two showed up to a night out together, Frank’s hand protectively around your waist. The three of you began to spend more time together, allowing Frank to see the more carefree, relaxed side of you that Matt brought out, but you also dedicated plenty of moments to just you and Frank. Right before your eyes, you built a relationship, and you were so happy with him.

Nevertheless, there was something of a dark cloud above your head, invisible to Frank but so heavy on you. Your mind fed you constant worries and anxiety — since everyone else had left, surely Frank would do the same. And without even fully realizing it, you began taking great measures to avoid such a fate.

”Which one do you like better?” you asked Frank, holding up two dresses that were casual enough for your movie date, but too important for you to make the decision on your own. You had become highly worried about everything you wore, always wondering if Frank liked what you had on or if he was ashamed to be seen with you. Maybe your body wasn’t good enough, to begin with.

”Why’re you askin’ me, sweetheart? You’ll look stunnin’ either way”, he chuckled, not really seeing the point, but his answer didn’t satisfy you.

”Pick one. Please?” you pleaded, desperately wanting his input, and it twisted his face with surprise.

”Uh, alright. The one on the right”, Frank chose, and instantly, your stomach dropped — you had thought the one on the left was better. But it mattered to you what he thought, as you certainly didn’t want to give him any reason to leave you, and so, you put on the dress he had pointed out.

You picked at it the whole drive to the movie theater, uncomfortable with how your body looked in it and convinced that Frank was seeing it, too. You felt insecure and you wanted to cancel the entire date, but you didn’t want to upset him, so you swallowed it down.

”Somethin’ wrong with the dress, baby?” Frank noticed your compulsive touching at the clothing, and feeling exposed by his question, you gave him a weak smile.

”No, no, nothing. It’s alright”, you insisted, before swiftly changing the subject. Still, Frank didn’t forget about it. If anything, he was starting to notice a pattern of you seeming so uncomfortable in your own skin, leaving him stuck between wanting to reassure you and fearing he’d only be creating a problem by bringing it up.

He picked up on the anxiety that followed you pretty easily. But it wasn’t until you began putting yourself down out loud that he cut in.

”Hey, bring me that black shirt f’me?” Frank called out from the bathroom where he was brushing his teeth, preparing for the day ahead of him. You reacted to his request as quickly as you could, digging through his designated half of the closet to find that one button-up you loved to see on him and hastily carrying it to the bathroom for him.

You handed the shirt over, and you instantly clocked the look on his face. ”Oh, shit, I shoulda specified. The other one, sweetheart. This one got all torn up from that one asshole’s knife the other night”, he corrected you gently and with care, but it hit you straight in the heart, making you feel like you couldn’t do anything right.

”Sorry. Sorry, I—I’m stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking”, you stammered, turning around to go back to the closet, but Frank stopped you with a grip on your wrist.

”Hey, you ain’t stupid. It was a mistake. Where’s this comin’ from, huh?” he glanced you over with concern, hating the sound of you criticizing yourself like that. He saw no need for it, and the way you jumped to it was something he wasn’t going to look past.

You shrugged, trying to move on from it, but Frank wasn’t that easily convinced. ”Look at me, sweetheart”, he demanded softly, and shyly, you brought your gaze up to his. ”I don’t like you speakin’ that way ’bout yourself. You didn’t do anythin’ wrong, yeah? It ain’t a big deal”, he promised, and his attempts to reassure you got your eyes to sting with incoming tears.

”I just don’t wanna do something to make you leave me”, you whispered, wiping your eyes to avoid him seeing you cry. ”Sorry”, you added, and shaking his head, Frank pulled you in, his head tilted down at you. He was so close, you could sense his warmth and his stare, and you felt so vulnerable in the small space.

”There’s nothin’ to apologize for, sweet darlin’. Hey, listen to me. There ain’t a thing you could do to make me leave. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, ’m here to stay. I wanna be with you. The real you, includin’ every little thing you think I couldn’t love. I do”, Frank started, staring you down and trying to make you see he was completely serious. He would have never done anything to hurt you on purpose, and he wished he would have had the words to convince you.

”You really mean that?” you asked weakly, trembling from anxiety. You really wanted to believe him, but it was hard to unlearn everything you had grown so accustomed to.

”I mean it, baby”, he swore, leaning in to kiss your forehead. ”Is this why you keep bein’ so careful with what you say around me? And why you ask me what you should be wearin’?” he wondered, and embarrassed to admit it, you nodded.

”I just want you to still think I’m worth it”, you sighed, breaking Frank’s heart.

”Clearly I ain’t been very good at this boyfriend thing, ’cause I never want you to doubt how I feel ’bout you. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, and I adore everythin’ you do and are. Can’t think of anyone sweeter and kinder than you. You’re the best thing to happen to me in a long while and I… I love you”, he told you, sincere and full of feeling. His words made your eyes widen, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words, but eventually, the right thing tumbled out of your mouth.

”I love you, Frank”, you smiled, unable to hold back the joy you felt upon hearing that. ”I’m always the one to love more. To get more attached. But you… you really care about me, don’t you?” you spoke in amazement, starting to see that he was serious about you.

”You’re goddamn right I do. And you’ll always be worth it to me, pretty girl. Nothin’s gonna change that”, he emphasized, his dark eyes filled to the brim with something fiery. For the first time since you had met him, you trusted in him one hundred percent and didn’t let the inevitable anxiety and doubt shift your faith.

As he leaned down to kiss you, passionate and needy, you felt like you had found your happy ending. And for once, you had hope, and thought that with Frank, you actually had a chance of healing.

[fyodoro]

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞 - 𝐑𝐞𝐨 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐞

-> Reo could have anything and everything he wants, some more replaceable than other. But why would he want to replace something (or rather someone) that's irreplaceable? (1k words)

-> CW) Reo's parents are really shitty here, gaslighting, cursing, ummm reo shows a brief sign of crazy but it's nothing compared to the toothbrush scene, kinda dialouge heavy, kissing lol

This is more Reo-centric tbh. I've never seen a fic that included how his parents would feel about a relationship with someone that wasn't mega rich, and wanted to experiment with that idea a bit.

Also, this was a scrap from the event I'm working on. I didn't wanna put it to waste so here it is.

“Reo, sweetie… we love you dearly, you know that?”

Reo merely stared at what was in front of him, his parents. It was hard to tell whether he was pissed, upset, or unbothered. But anyone who knew the young man would tell you exactly what that look on his face meant.

He’s pissed.

“But we think you need to reconsider this… decision of yours.” His father finished. The purple haired woman next to him nodded firmly at her husband’s words. “As much as we love you, we also need to keep the Mikage Corporation in mind. And that… person of yours… how do I put this?”

“They aren’t good enough for you or the family.” Reo’s father said what his mother was too scared to say. 

In short, you didn’t match their qualifications for Reo’s “future partner.”

“I’m sure they’re a joy to be around, really. But they don’t come from a wealthy family. One of the most important things to look for in a lover is a family-”

“So this isn’t about me, this is about the company? Whatever happened to ‘loving me dearly?’” Reo cut his father off, not wanting to hear another word out of him.

“We do love you, sweetheart. That’s why we want what’s best for you. And who you want to bring into the family isn’t worthy of accompanying you, let alone becoming a Mikage.” His mother’s tone was so sweet it was almost sickening. What was the point in acting so nice while spouting the cruelest words? 

Reo’s brows furrowed harshly. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to call them out on their bullshit, or punch them. The latter was most preferable. 

“You two don’t know a thing about (Name), so just shut up. Whatever I choose to do with my life is none of your business.” Reo spat.

His father opened his mouth to rebuttal, but Reo ran off before he could get a word out. As much as he wanted to chase after him and drill the meaning of being a “heir” into his head, a hand on a shoulder held him in place.

“Don’t.” Mrs. Mikage started, gazing at seemingly nothing. “He’ll understand sooner or later, just have some faith in him.”

Reo wanted nothing more than to kiss you passionately right in front of his parents. He knew it’d piss them off further, and that’s exactly why he wanted to do it. Why does he have to be the only one pissed off in this situation? His parents have to be worried, and you…

“So… does that mean we have to break up?” 

And you have to be guilty.

“No. We aren’t breaking up, I promise.” Reo reassured. He hated how you felt like this mess was your fault, because it wasn’t. It was his parent’s fault.

It was like they had a checklist for Reo’s potential lovers. Are they wealthy? Are their parents also CEO’s? Or at least work in higher ranks for a big company? Are they attractive (in their eyes)? If they didn’t fill out every box, they were shunned out of Reo’s life.

You weren’t like his previous partners, not in the slightest. For one, he’s with you because he loves you, and not because he’s bored. That’s a great place to start. 

“They’re assholes, that’s all there is to it. They don’t care about anything outside of their stupid company.” Reo’s words were as bitter as coffee. By this point, you weren’t sure if he was comforting you or himself. Perhaps a mix of both?

“If they don’t want me around… does that mean we’re gonna have to keep this a secret?” You looked at him curiously, wondering how this will work out without getting under his parent’s skin even more.

Reo grinned. “Who said we’ll have to keep this a secret?”

“By that… you mean…?”

“I mean… I think I’m gonna have to start bringing you around my place even more.”

His words stunned you. Just how would that help his situation? The boy stood there, grinning like an idiot, as if this was the best idea ever. 

“Think about it! If you were always around, they’d have no choice but to warm up to you. And if they even try to belittle you, then I'll-”

You cut him off. “Okay- I get it. You can calm down now.”

“My bad…”

His plan was irrational to no end. His parents were perfectly capable of cutting you out of Reo’s life if they really wanted to, even he knew that. But no matter what route he takes, risks will always be apparent. Of course, Reo wanted to take the route that’d corner his parents. Was he sure it’d work? Nope. 

But he was okay with taking chances to keep you a part of his life.

“You know I’m doing this because I love you, right?” Your ears perked up at this, already figuring that was the case to begin with. “I don’t want you to think I’m doing this just to piss off my parents.” He finished.

“Even if that was your reason, I still wouldn’t mind.” You stated. It baffled Reo, that you were so willing to go along with whatever you wanted. It reminded him...

“Have I ever told you?”

“Told me what?”

“I’ve had a lot of things in my life, but I think you’re the best of them all. Well- minus the fact that you’re a person, not a thing. But you get my point.” He affirmed with a wide, gentle grin. 

You pulled him in for a sweet kiss, which Reo gladly accepted. 

In that moment, Reo could only think of how much better you were than anyone else his parents would prefer.

He could kiss you back and feel sincere about it. And he could pull you closer not because it was what his body wanted, but because it was what he wanted.

You were the best thing that’s ever been Reo’s.

Well, minus Nagi. But you still came before him.

[canthelpit0]

American

Pairing: matt x poc!reader

Wordcount: 2.2K +

Summary: reader is a third culture kid. Her parents are immigrants, and she hates it. She wants to be everything she is not.

Warnings: angst, crying, hating your own culture, racism, internalized racism, middle eastern!reader, reader discerned as average, established relationship, pet names, hurt/comfort, no use of y/n, no oc; reader described to have curly hair, brown eyes and hair.

(A/N: not me reflecting lmao. asks and req are open <3 feedback is appreciated! Ps: I am Türkisch, and this isn’t meant to be racist, it’s just thoughts about myself that I used to have portrayed by y/n. This is for awareness abt internalized racism)

I hate my culture. I hate my frizzy hair, I hate the fact that my eyes are a plain brown. I hate the fact that I’m not white. I hate that when someone asks me where I’m from and I say America, they go “no where are you actually from?”. I hate my brain. I hate the way I think. I hate the way I wish I was someone else. I hate myself, and I hate the way I hate myself.

I was never considerably pretty. Well not really. Sure the facial harmony, the potential is there. But I’m just not good enough.

I wish my hair was straight.

I hate the way I hate my own culture. I really do. But I literally can’t fit into the American beauty Standards , but I can’t fit into the middle eastern ones either.

My home country is America. I was born and raised here. But both of my parents are immigrants from turkey. -Wich means we’re not very wealthy.

I hate it when people ask me where I’m from because I look ‘exotic’.

I wouldn’t consider turkey my home country. I hate it there. And I don’t know if it’s just my internalized hatred or whatever, but I do.

Even in the country itself I’m not considered Turkish enough. In the US I’m not American enough…

I’m never enough.

Not to my parents, not to my siblings, not to my boyfriend. Not to myself. I’m not good enough.

we go to turkey for vacation every year and I’m sick of it.

I speak the language enough to communicate. I hate half the food because I’m a picky eater. It hurts even more because I’m not even considered properly Turkish.

I hate the way all my cousins, except for one, live In turkey. I hate the way they’re so close to each other. And despite being in the cousins group chat, they’ll always send in pictures of them all together. Pictures that I’ll never be in, simply because I’m halfway across the world.

Years ago, whenever we visited, it didn’t matter, the fact that I live so far away, but now they were judgy.

Besides I don’t trust anything there. Sure the stuff there is cheaper, but you could literally put me in an official Nike store and I would still tell you the shoes are fake, even tho they obviously aren’t.

I did an internship at a disposition and shipping company. I know that those shoes come from the same warehouse. I just don’t trust anything Turkish.

Growing up with so many myths that my parents taught me to live by, until I realized it’s just a bunch of bullshit, made me believe that nothing purchased in turkey is of any quality.

And it’s not even to hate on the nation or anything, it’s probably my own fault.

I hate the way all the other middle easternerns are so confident in where they’re from, flexing the fact that they naturally know more languages than Americans.

But I just wish I was one of those stupid Americans. Oblivious to the rest of the world and all the flaws in human nature. I wish I was a skinny white woman born into an upper middle class American family.

But instead I have to be what I am.

I hate it when I hear people talk in my ‘native’ language. Even tho that’s the only language we speak at home.

Sometimes I feel great knowing that I have culture and just naturally great genetics, and potential and resources to be better than those stuck in a village in my ‘home’ town.

But then it dawns on me that I’m not American, even if I was born and raised here it’s not my home country. And as much as I feel like it should be and is, it’s not.

It dawns on me that I’m not white. I’m not one of them. And I never will be.

And that makes me question why Matt is even dating me.

There is so much internal self hatred and racism going on in me, yet still he chose me over those white girls.

And I don’t get it.

Every time I look at myself in the mirror I sigh. Let’s ignore the fact that I’m not white like that and will never be. Even being middle eastern, or whatever the hell turks are considered, I don’t look like that either.

I fit literally nowhere. Sure I have dark brown hair and brown eyes, I look pretty average. But I still don’t look Turkish, I don’t have that straight hair or painfully skinny body.

I let out a heavy sigh without even noticing. These thoughts were getting loud again.

I hate how strict and conservative my parents are. I hate the painful lack of empathy they show, because I always have to be perfect, when I’m oh so confused of what type of perfect.

I don’t know if they want me to be a cheerleader and prom queen and top of my class like they never could. Or if they want me to be conservative or something.

Probably the latter, but-

“What are you thinking about?” Matt’s voice suddenly snaps me out of my daze. We literally had laid down to sleep and all I could do is pity myself.

I feel a lump in my throat and only now realize how i feel like I’m going to break into sobs.

Matt must’ve heard my uneven, shaky breaths.

Matt was spooning me, his arms wrapped around my waist, holding me close to him. He rubs my sides gently, tracing shapes on my skin.

I sigh in response. I feel like I haven’t used my voice in so long. I feel like if I speak now, I’ll break into sobs.

“Baby?” He whispers softly. I feel him pull away slightly until he turns me around to face him.

“Talk to me sweetheart.”

Matt is such a kind soul. I literally didn’t tell my parents we were dating until we were already dating for 7 months, just because I was that scared. I wasn’t allowed to date or do anything intimate. As if it wasn’t normal for a teenager to want to.

“Why do you like me Matt?” I blurt out before I can think.

“First off, I don’t like you, I love you. And second where is this coming from?” He asks sweetly his eyes having a tinge of concern to them. He looks so sweet and caring.

“Why tho?” I inquire. My voice low. I know my eyes are glassy, I’m quite literally holding back tears.

Matt licks his lips and sits up. He turns the bedside table lamp on. The dim yellow light aluminates the room slightly, just enough so that I can see his prominent features even better.

“What do you mean?” He asks again now sitting up fully. He has his legs Chris-cross, looking down at me while I still lay on my side.

I sigh trying to gather my thoughts. I purse my lips lying back on my back. I stare at the ceiling for a moment.

“Why do you love me?” I purse my lips. I blink furiously trying to hold back tears.

The way he looks at me is sweet and caring. I sit up just like him. Both of us now sitting across each other, Chris-cross.

Matt and I have been together for a long while, so he knows me. But I never openly talked about it.

“I love you because you’re kind, and caring. I love you because you could talk for hours about things you are passionate about. I love your voice, I love your face, I love the way you’re so delicate with everything. I love the way you touch me. I love you because even when we were just friends you were so kind to me and everyone around. I love you because you’re you.”

By the end of his rant I was crying. Tears streaming down my face while i try to hold in gut wrenching sobs.

Matt’s eyes soften even further. He shifts again so his back is against the head-bored. He grabs me gently and sets me down on his lap facing him.

I cry. Feeling vulnerable I burry my face in the side of his neck. I try not to sob too loud, but I can’t hold it in. With my sobs my body shakes as I try to breathe through it.

“Shh you’re okay baby.” He comforts, gently rubbing circles into my back.

I let out shaky breaths and sobs as I try to calm down. I feel like I’m overreacting. Sure I feel shitty about myself, but then again I can’t do anything to change who I am, so what’s the point in crying about it.

I don’t know for how long I cry, I just know that after a while I couldn’t anymore. I cried so much I ran out of tears.

“You want to talk about it?” Matt asks softly under his breath.

I let out a shaky sigh and shift slightly. I look him in the eyes for a second before letting my head fall forward closing my eyes. I know my eyes are probably red and puffy.

“I just..” I trail off, thinking of a way to describe this to Matt.

“I hate being an immigrant’s daughter..” I say slowly trying to figure out a way to understandably say this without sounding crazy or overly sensitive.

I feel Matt’s hand ghost over my cheek caressing my face gently. He picks up my head slowly so I’m looking at him. My eyes meet his as I try not to cry anymore.

“Talk to me, honey.” He says oh so sweetly.

“I just wish I was American.” I sob. Without even realizing tears were rolling down my face again.

Matt doesn’t say anything waiting for me to continue. He wipes away my tears gently, his eyes full of concern.

“I hate myself and everything I stand for.” I breathe out under my breath as if I’m terrified by that fact. And I am. I hate that I hate myself.

“Baby..” Matt whispers softly. He looks at me like I am everything. He looks at me like I’m the only thing that matters and me saying that I hate myself tears him apart.

“I don’t have a culture. I mean I do, but I’m a third culture kid, I’m not enough for either culture.” I sob. I can physically feel my bottom lip trembling.

“Baby, I love you for you.” Matt says again softly. He wipes away my tears.

“But I hate myself Matt. I hate the fact that I exist.” I breathe out. I close my eyes tightly, because after all, I could barely see anything through my tears anyway.

Matt, being the empath he is, was on the verge of crying too.

No American ever pronounces my name right, but the actual right way just sounds wrong at this point.

I will never find my name on those keychains. And while today, I don’t care about it, back when I was younger and everyone had those, I just couldn’t find one.

“Don’t say that” Matt breaths out. He was still actively wiping away my tears while trying not to cry himself.

“You don’t get it Matt. I’m the problem.” I breathe out harshly. “I feel like I always act like such a brat about it. But my parents had dreams too.” I breathe out.

I see a tear roll down Matt’s cheek and it feels like a slap across my face. I feel my stomach drop. I hurriedly put my hands on his face wiping away the tear while crying myself. Matt’s hands go to my waist holding me.

“Don’t say that.” He breathes out. “You’re allowed to feel things.”

Another wave of sadness washes over me. But before I can break out into sobs again he pulls me into him.

Matt cradles my head into his chest hugging me tightly. I feel safe in his arms. I know Matt loves me for me, but sometimes it still felt like a cruel joke.

Like when I was asked out in middle school as a joke. But we’ve been dating for almost a year now.

“I love your hair, I love your eyes, I love your face, I love your culture, I love your humor. I love you.” Matt assures me. He rubs my scalp gently as I continues to let out small sobs that shake my body.

“I love everything about you. I love you the way you are, and you know that.” He uses his other hand to rub my back comfortingly.

I continue to cry in his arms listening to the sweet nothings and the praises Matt whispers to me.

It hurts knowing I hurt him. And I really want to believe him, and I do. But I don’t agree.

After a while of crying I calm down again.

This is a topic I’ll never be able to talk about without crying. It’s a deep rooted pain.

Being how I am, I hate it.

After a while we move back to a laying down position. “We’ll talk about this later.” Matt assures firmly yet he was still looking at me kindly.

I simply nod. Matt turns the bedside lamp off. He pulls me closer to him. He cradles my head to his chest and I hug him back. I cling to him like my life depends on it.

I know it’s not going to be easy, but it’s exhausting to hate myself this much. I wish I didn’t. I really do.

Masterlist

A/N: All of us third culture kids have probably at some point have experienced some type of internalized racism. I wrote this in a fit of sadness after realising that my dreams are just dreams. I cried so many times while writing this. I hope you guys liked it 💕

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo

[shiinata-library]

Imagine: They know you can’t sleep at night

Thorin, Fíli, Kíli, Bilbo's reactions when you can't sleep well during the journey.

[ 📚 Main Imagines Masterlist 📚 ]

Used to camping or not, sleeping outside in Middle-earth was something else than sleeping in your late comfortable bed in your world. 

Thorin

Even though Thorin clearly noticed you’re tired every day, there is nothing he can do. Too many things to worry and think on this journey before looking after you. Gandalf wanted you to join them, so he has to take care of you.

Except that the wizard is always lost in his thoughts and doesn’t notice your tiredness, or you hide it well. 

In truth, travelling on a pony is not tiring, especially because you always share it with a member of the company and they know how to keep you awake with their fun story or songs. 

Not sleeping the night, otherwise, it’s more tiring! The East Road is harder and colder than you thought. And of course, you don’t have any modern, comfortable material. Who could sleep on this ground with just a blanket under you and another on you?

But, you don’t want to trouble anyone so you stay quiet about it. Everyone has other things to do than babysit you…

One day, at the surprise of everyone, Thorin offers to share his pony with you. To give the other ponies a rest, he said. As you don’t want to argue and you’re quite happy to ride with him – even if it’s embarrassing – you do as he said and sit before him.

As Thorin rides in the front, you can’t hear what the others say. Luckily, it’s not raining so it’s calm and peaceful. You can admire the landscape while Thorin manages the pony’s reins.

At some point, you wake up in a startle. Thorin just has the time to slip an arm around your waist to avoid you from falling. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” you hurry to say, looking around you and noticing thanks to the sun that you slept for a while. “I shouldn’t fall asleep!” 

Your cheeks are burning, but you feel so well-rested now. Maybe it’s because of his comfortable, fluffy coat, or the peaceful atmosphere, or his warming, relaxing smell…

“Stop moving or you will fall,” he sighs as he holds you tighter to him. “I-I’m sorry!” is the only thing you can say.

“We’ll stop in two hours,” he says as you understand he means you can sleep again. “But, I don’t want to bother you. What if I fall and take you down with me?” you murmur as you feel his arm around you adjusting, making you blush, of course.

“I hold you. Don’t worry about it,” he murmurs in a regal, convincing voice. Then, as you lean against him like before, you fall quickly asleep. Maybe riding with him was the best solution so that you can rest…

N/A: Or sleeping with him on the ground. We can easily find other solutions, right?

Fíli 

Since you had left the Shire with everyone, some nights were more tiring than others. Hard, cold and wet ground is not your favourite thing, but you could have recovered in a few inn, or in great places like Rivendell or Beorn’s house.

But after that, Mirkwood is quite a challenge. The nights are almost totally dark with weird noises and a feeling of always being watched. You’re not scared because the company is close to you, especially Fíli since he decided the forest wasn’t safe enough to let you alone even for a minute.

So when the spiders attack, you don’t have the strength to defend yourself. When the elves capture you, it’s the same. I think you're the last person they capture since they know you won't do anything. Very embarrassing…

Woman or not, you're thrown in a dungeon like the dwarves, no special treatment! The place is not comfortable but it’s dry and no sooner do you lie down than you fall asleep.

“Let me see her!” “She may hurt!” “It’s a woman, don’t let her in this place!” You wake up, still tired like when you have slept for too long and your body doesn't know where it stands. You hear Fíli yelling from a cell far away from you. You don't know how long he's been shouting, but his voice sounds tired.

As you start to wake up, you hear your door’s cell opening and someone entering quickly. Fíli knells before you and puts his hand slowly on your upper arm. “I was just sleeping, Fíli. I’m fine,” you smile as you sit up slowly.

Fíli hugs you suddenly, his mouth coming closer to your ear. “I know you were sleeping but I needed to see you,” he whispered, holding you tightly. “I know you need sleeping but I didn’t know if you were hurt, and those elves–” 

“I’m fine,” you cut him off before he gets angry. “And I’m safer here than in the forest.” 

You laugh until you notice you’re the one one. Fíli ends the hug and looks at you, “You’re safe only when I'm with you. I will stay here with you. Now you can go back to sleep as much as you need.”

“Thanks…” you can only say, too embarrassed by his words as you lie down, looking for his hand to hold. Now he is with you, you truly feel comfortable to sleep for days.

N/A: Oh, it’s more fluffy than I planned. 😅

Kíli 

“You can sleep between us tonight if you want,” Kíli says one day after he saw you yawn several times in the afternoon, winking with mischief. He caught up with you on his pony with his brother not far behind. 

“Maybe in your dreams,” you answer with a smirk, making everyone who heard you laugh. Even Bilbo smiles. 

But little did you know that your answer would trigger a new form of amusement for the dwarf. Not a day went by without a similar remark when he saw you yawning. And as you don’t sleep well on a hard, cold ground, you yawn a lot…

You always laughed with him, inventing new answers making the others laugh, until your tiredness almost cost your life. After the trolls' exhausting night, you decide to sit down against a tree while the company explores the trolls’ cave. After a night like that, you could rest anywhere. So even if you didn’t want it, you fell asleep. It’s only when Radagast arrives that you wake up. 

Half awake, you hardly understand what is happening. When the company starts to run, you try to follow them but all the fatigue you have accumulated over the last few days is making your movements slow and difficult. Some dwarves want to help you but Thorin’s yellings convince them to continue to run. You notice a few arrows flying next to you, killing the orcs closest to you until you end up alone in the middle of nowhere. A few orcs notice you and quickly run after you. Even if you look around you, there are no traces or voices of the company, only the yells of the orcs.

At this moment, you only have your hands to defend yourself, or your feet to run. But Mahal, Yavanna or any god from here had decided otherwise. A group of elves on horses arrive just in time to save you. They bring you to Rivendell where the company is regrouping in a circle. 

During the conversation between Gandalf and Elrond, the latter helps you get off his horse. Gandalf smiles like you never saw and before you can say anything you feel two strong arms pulling you in a hug. Before you can say anything, you hear in a trembling almost crying voice, “I thought I lost you!”. Some incomprehensible words follow with quiet cries. You don’t know how to react so just close your arms on the dwarf you have recognised as Kíli, stroking his back to calm him.

“I’m fine,” you say with a smile as you look at the company, all still worried about you. “I’m a burden. You had no choice but to abandon me.”

“Don’t say that!” Kíli shouts as he pulls back to see you, his eyes still wet and red. “You’re not a burden! You were only tired and we left you alone…” He suddenly cups your two cheeks and pulls your forehead against his. “I promise we won’t abandon you again! And you’ll sleep next to Fíli and me every night! No negotiation!”

You can’t help but laugh at his attitude while you hear his brother sigh as he shakes his head.

N/A: I made him cry again. Oops! 😏

Bilbo

The ground is hard and cold at night. The morning dew is coverding you every morning. You don’t remember the last time you bathed. But well, do you have any other choice?

Oh yes, you have thought of walking back and to the Shire, but you can’t abandon them. So you stay quiet, enjoying the journey anyway. The days, when there is no rain, are fun. The company is fun and enjoyable.

However, there is one who doesn't mind complaining! Recently, a day hasn't gone by without Bilbo asking to stop at an inn. At first, he was asking politely, but now he just grumbles when the night falls.

It’s always a funny situation, especially when a dwarf hears him. “We’re sorry the ground is not to your taste, Mr Baggins,” some of them say. “Do you want some feathers for your pillow, Mr Baggins?” asked one of them when they plucked birds for the evening meal.

Of course, you try to hide your laugh, but Bilbo saw you every time. As you're in the same situation as him, you don't want to laugh, but the dwarves' remarks are always so unexpected that it's hard to hold back. So to take his mind off the situation, the two of you often have a chat before sleeping - even if you're a long way from sleeping. 

Yet, one day, Thorin decides to stop in a town to buy supplies and allows everyone to stay at the inn. As you have no money, you share your room with Gandalf and as no dwarf wants to share their rooms with Bilbo, he joins yours.

We won’t lie. It’s the best night for so long. A warm bath, wine with your meal, a bed. You even forget how comfortable a bed can be! Your room is far from what you used to in your world but it looks perfect at this moment: warm, dry, and with a bed.

“This is the best breakfast I ate for a long time!” you happily say in the next morning. “No offence intended, Bombur.” The cook dwarf smiles, understanding what you mean. You devour your breakfast like the company next to you.

“Did you sleep well, Y/N?” Fíli asks, nudging his brother with a smile. “Oh yes, very well,” you answer with your mouth full. “I was so tired, the timing was perfect! I’m glad Thorin let us sleep here.”

“I’m sure it's not uncle you should thank,” Kíli says with a wink, making the other laugh. You stay a moment motionless, frowning in incomprehension. “Did you sleep well, Mr Baggins?” Fíli follows up, laughing at the hobbit’s reaction.

Bilbo was listening without a word until he heard his name, choking on his breakfast. As you all stayed in a Men’s inn, the furniture are too big for him and he had to put cushions under him to get to the table, bringing him to almost the same height as you. You quickly notice his cheeks becoming pink as your smile gets bigger. Oh, and don’t lie. Your cheeks are pink too. 

“Oh, right! I should thank you, Bilbo,” you start, calling him by his first name as he had asked for a long time ago. You take his hand and squeeze it warmly, making his whole face pink. “I could never have slept in that bed if you hadn't asked so many times. I think I owe you.”

When Bilbo can speak again, he shakes his head, “No no no. You owe me nothing. I-I need a bath and a bed too!”

Then the others laugh and start speaking of something while you watch the hobbit resume his breakfast. Maybe you need to find something to thank him, but what? 

N/A: What would you give him to thank him? 😏

[whxre-bxby]

Period Oneshots: Quaritch, Mansk, Wainfleet

How I think these 3 (big) men would react to you having your period.

Masterlist

I don’t know whether Na’vi women get their period but since they would probably be mammals, I assume so. Either way, I’m going to write this how I imagine it goes for them. Since this fandom decided that they have mating seasons and heat cycles, the period is a 2-3 day period once their mating season is over. Meaning they get it only once a year ( I wish that was me )

Also, choose whether you are human or Na’vi. Doesn’t matter, both go for this one. 

Also, yes I am on my period while writing this. Credit to @jinx14 for the idea. I apologise for any typos, it's almost 2am :)

Quaritch:

Now Miles is a man who, back when he was human, knew everything he needed to know about the woman’s body. Of course, his memories are still with him now, but his old normal life seems more distant to him now that he is focusing on one mission only. 

Either you are on his squad team and are a part of project Phoenix or you work in the lab as a scientist or doctor/nurse. 

Miles knows you as a colleague and has grown unintentionally closer to you in the last month. He found you interesting and liked that you were helpful with missions, polite and knew your place, and loyal to him. Those aspects were very important to him as a person. 

One day he sees you working on something, whether it be working out or filling out lab reports. He notices you look worn out and agitated, which is unlike your usual upbeat mood. 

He comes over to question you and make sure you’re okay. He won’t mind bringing you something if you need it, as long as you ask politely. Asking polietely is one of the least important things on your list if you are fighting cramps, headaches or other pains. It doesn’t help that you may not have slept well. 

You’re too tired to dance around the subject. You know you look tired as shit and you know he can see that, so you just cut down to the chase. 

“I’m on my period, Miles.” you groan out frustrated, stopping your workout or dropping your pen on your lab report. 

He freezes and shuts up. It doesn’t get him embarrassed or anything like that, the answer just takes him by surprise. He was expecting you to say that someone was getting on your nerves or that you had too much to do. 

He had almost forgotten that that happens to women. Then again, your answer had refreshed a few old memories and he understood what you were going through, from the biological view. He knew how it worked and why it happened and for how long etc. 

He didn’t want to make you feel worse so he silently left the room and returned with a hot drink in his hand for you. He will let it slide once. Then, you will have to ask politely again. 

“Do you want company?” he asks, not wanting to get on your nerves. 

You are unable to answer and you nod your head, groaning again before taking the cup into both hands and just holding it for a while. 

He doesn’t start small talk, you both just sit in peaceful silence. He might scan over a few of your reports without understanding them or might take a look at the equipment you were using to workout. 

Miles enjoys your company just as much as you do. And he was ready to help you if you needed anything. He was also happy to be spending time with you. 

He knew you were quiet when it came to personal things so he felt a sense of pride in his chest when you felt comfortable enough to just tell him what’s going on. 

Mansk: (sorry for the low quality gif)

You would both be outside on a mission. The whole team was out but you were divided into groups to cover more ground. He was focused on his surroundings, eyeing every tree and listening to every noise. 

You were both advancing through the forest pretty quickly and after a while, you started to feel bad. 

Mansk was walking ahead of you when he heard a groan behind him. With quick movements, he swung around and aimed his gun right at you. He relaxed his body and let his ears perk back up when he saw that you were not being attacked. 

“What are you doin’?” he asks, lowering his weapon and slowly walking back to your hunched-over figure. You were leaned against a tree, one hand clutching your stomach and wrapping around your waist tightly. 

Mansk noticed your odd position and started to think about what was happening. He stood next to you, eyes scanning over your body before he looked around again to ensure both of your safety. 

“You good?” he asked, leaning down to try and read my facial expression. 

“Just- give me a moment.” I say, biting my lip. This cramp was almost unbearable and it hit me without a warning. 

He nodded, standing up-right again but in reality, this man had no idea what was going on. His first thoughts were food poisioning or maybe you got sick from the helicopter ride here.

I stood up again, the feeling gone. 

“All good, let’s go.” I say, my normal self back again. Mansk was confused as shit. He stood still, watching you start to walk again. His mind was like a television without signal. After a few moments, you gasped and bent over, clutching your abdomen again. 

While he was still oblivious to your period symptoms, he was more worried and jogged over to you, resting a hand on your back. 

“Do you need-” he started to ask but my moody self interrupted him. 

“Shhhh… I need quiet.” I mumble. He ran out of ideas. He was about to settle on the hypothesis that you had just lost your mind until you mumbled something that made his ears perk up. 

“I’m on my period, it’ll be fine in a sec.” 

Right. Periods. He forgot about those. 

His eyes glanced at your shorts and he was relieved to not see any blood. Mansk had no idea what to do, how to help you or just how to deal with the situation himself. 

“You want water?” he genuinely asked, offering me his bottle. I look up at him, showing clear signs of discomfort and he doubts his question, leaning his ears back. He felt a little stupid for not knowing what to do. Usually in missions, he was the one to have the best ideas on how to do whatever. Now, he felt useless.

“Yes, why not.” I say, grabbing it from him. My answer surprised him. 

“Thank you.” I mumbled, wiping a few drops with the back of my hand from my mouth. He nodded, smiling to himself that he had managed to do something in your favour.

“We can keep going again.” you softly say, straightening your posture and turning around again. 

Mansk isn’t a very talkative person, therefor you both walk in silence most of the way again. But neither of you mind. You are distracted by your discomfort anyway. 

From now on, he will always offer you water.

Water obviously doesn’t help against pain, you were just thirsty from walking, but Mansk doesn’t know that. You weren’t going to tell him either. Looking at him, you saw how he was holding the bottle ready in one hand, so he could give it to you again. It was sweet that he wanted to help, even if he didn’t know how. 

He makes sure to stay close by your side, incase you need to stop again. Mansk is slightly more cautious now because he knows your attention is elsewhere. That is also why he suddenly feels very protective of you. 

When you return to the others he doesn’t spill that you are shedding blood as you speak. If you weren't there and it would be his buddies, he would though. Just to brag about how well he thinks he handled the situation. 

Upon arriving, he pretends as if nothing happened and that it was a normal situation, trying to forget the little panic moment he felt before. 

Mansk also pushes anyone sitting next to you away, so that he can be by your side. 

Lyle Wainfleet: 

You and Lyle work out regularly together. It started off when you would just run into eachother at the gym room. He started conversation with you and it formed a friendship. Now you meet up and both do your workout together. You help spot him while he helps to ensure that you keep a stable form and stuff. 

Anyway, right now you and him are competing against each other, trying to see who can hold a plak the longest. 

You’re going 2 minutes strong and you were ready to hold it longer. Lyle was keeping his posture obtained too. 

Suddenly you started to feel a light pressure in your lower abdomen. Within seconds, it became more intense and then it struck you like an arrow from hell, causing you to fall flat on the ground. Immediately, you turned to your side, scrunching up and hugging your waist as you experienced discomfort. 

Next to you, Lyle cheered. 

“Ha, told you so. You almost had 3 minutes. I can go for another 3, just watch and-” he started bragging until his gaze landed on you all curled up into a ball. 

“Okay, don’t you dare trick me into thinking you’re hurt just so I can’t break my record.” he chuckled, focusing on his plank again. After you hadn’t moved in a few seconds he glanced back at you. 

He was starting to get worried. 

“Y/N quit playin’.” he said but already, you were able to pick up a hint of worry in his voice.

“Y/N.” he repeated, hoping you would turn around smiling. But you stayed still. Something felt off to him so he decided to stop. He got out of his plank position and knelt beside you. Lyle looked down and noticed your facial expression. You were in fact not messing with him. He felt slightly relieved by that but then again worried for you. 

“You okay?” he asks, slightly shaking your arm. You nod but stay in your position. Lyle is confused now. What are you doing?

Did you get a cramp from the workout? Even the word ‘cramp’ didn’t ring a bell in this soldier's head. 

“I think I just got my period.” you whined. You were dreading it but it had to come eventually. 

Lyle’s eyes went wide. “Oh…” he said, almost sounding like it was a whisper. “Right…” 

“Just give me a moment, I’ll be fine in a few…” you mumbled, keeping your eyes squeezed shut. 

“Yeah, sure. Of course. Take as-as long as you need…” he started rambling. “We are in no hurry, just- yeah take your time. You know, relax.” 

“Lyle.” I warn him. 

“Yep, I’ll be quiet. I’ll just sit here and wait with you until you feel better. Which you will, right? Like, this thing won’t-”

“Lyle!” I snap at him. I was short-tempered at the moment and I couldn’t deal with his long string of words. 

He sat in silence, watching me to make sure I wouldn’t pass out or die. While he did still find himself fascinated with how the female body worked, it scared him to a certain extent. If he would see blood on your leggings, he would definitely freak out.

Once the cramp fades away, you sit up, taking a few deep breaths. Lyle continues to watch you patiently and you smile and apologise for snapping. He isn’t upset. Lyle is an overly friendly angel and just wanted you to feel better. If you had asked him to, that man would have sat next to you for a few hours. Even if you fell asleep, he would not leave your side.

Since you were in a vulnerable state, he was happy he was the one looking out for you. And look out for you he will. He will get you absolutely anything and will make sure you are comfortable. If someone would need to talk to you he would handle it, sending them away. If you would get cold, he would cover you in his jacket or hoodie, etc. Wainfleet was just a big friendly giant to those he cared about.

[agathasangel]

Playing House (alpha!agatha harkness x omega!reader)

this is my first time doing anything omegaverse so yeah

warnings: omegaverse, mommy kink, kinda unhealthy relationship, professor!alpha!agatha, innocence/corruption kink, legal age gap, smut

word count: 1778

summary: agatha was your professor, and she took you under her wing. sure she was an alpha, you were an omega, and you had a crush on her and would always try to play house, but that doesn’t mean anything! Right?

You didn’t honestly expect that Agatha would want to be your alpha. Out of the kindness of her heart, she had taken you under her wing. At the time she was your neighbor, and a professor at the local college, which you had attended. You didn’t expect anything more than that.

Your first semester, you lived in a small apartment by yourself. You had made some friends, two betas and an alpha, and you were doing well in your classes. At first. The stress got to you quickly though. Your parents began to fight and told you they were splitting up at the same time as your friends turned on you. Your performance in your classes started to drop as well. You only had one good thing left, and that was your History of Witchcraft class with professor Agatha Harkness.

Agatha was a beautiful older woman who also happened to live on your floor. She was always kind to you and made sure you were okay.

“Hey, superstar. I heard you crying, are you okay? You wanna come over, have some company while you study? I can make you dinner.”

“I- I don’t want to bother you. I’m sorry you heard.”

“No bother at all, I’m serious. I just want to help you. God, this place is so tiny. Mine has a lot more space if you’re interested.” You came over to her apartment and spent a lovely, peaceful evening with her. You felt happy and less lonely. She did make dinner for you, and she didn’t make you talk about your problems. She just sat with you, being there if you needed her.

You would sometimes come over to her apartment just to talk, just to feel you had someone in your corner. You knew Agatha was an alpha, you could smell it on her, but you never discussed it. You assumed your attraction to her was probably not returned, as she had not yet made a move and you were so much younger than she was, and such a mess. You were there more and more, until you practically lived together. You even fell asleep on her couch from time to time and she would take care not to wake you, tucking you in and making some extra coffee the next morning.

Things changed between the two of you, slowly at first. You spent even more time with her, cuddling her and studying together and having fun. Your liked to cook for her, and you thought it was fun to play house a bit with the older, more experienced alpha. It fulfilled a fantasy you had that you didn’t think was possible. But she always played along, and was loving and caring.

“You’re just adorable, baby. You made this for me?” She would say after you surprised her with dinner.

“Of course!”

You also liked to bake, and were quite good at it. You would use your talent to impress Agatha every chance you got, and it worked.

“That’s amazing. You’re gonna make some alpha really happy one day, hon.”

Agatha never acknowledged that you were an omega before. You were sure that she knew, but she never said anything about it. If you were honest, the fact that she was acknowledging it at all excited you.

Agatha liked to show that she could be protective of you as well.

“It’s okay, little one. Mama’s got you,” she would say, possessively wrapping an arm around you as you watched a scary movie. She often referred to herself as mama or mommy and eventually got you to call her by those names as well. One day she suggested that the two of you begin sharing her bed instead of you sleeping on her pull-out couch like you’ve been.

“It might be good for you. Comforting. I know you get nightmares and it might be nice to have mommy to look out for you, isn’t that right baby?”

“Yes, mommy. Please let me sleep in your bed.”

You were adorably naive, oblivious to the alpha’s obvious attraction to you. To everyone else it seemed shameless, the older woman doting on you and constantly being with you. But you just took it as the affection you needed. Her being nice to you, almost too nice. You didn’t seriously think she wanted you like that. But then, you didn’t see the way Agatha stared when you weren’t paying attention, the way she watched you as you slept peacefully next to her. You didn’t know that the real reason Agatha would often shift her body when you cuddled up to her was so you wouldn’t feel her arousal. You had no idea how your scent drove her crazy, and never questioned how she would disappear into the bathroom increasingly often as your scent began to be a permanent fixture of the house. Agatha managed to control herself, knowing she would scare you off if she moved the relationship too fast. But this was killing her. She wanted you more than anything in the world.

Everything changed one day, when you were busy studying for finals. Your last semester you managed to pass, but your grades weren’t great. You desperately wanted to ace this semester and raise your gpa, and you were studying so hard that you forgot something vital.

You forgot to take your heat suppressants.

Shit.

You didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t focus on studying anymore, that was for sure. And Agatha was away. Even if she was with you, would she want to be your alpha? Would she be uncomfortable? You knew Agatha would surely be able to tell.

And oh, she could tell. The second Agatha got home, she could smell it. You were in heat. It was time.

“You okay there, superstar? Need a little help?”

“I- I’m okay! Don’t worry about me Aggie…”

“No. Don’t do that,” Agatha said as she came over to you, “Stop pretending you don’t want me. I’ve been so patient, taking care of you and convincing you and making sure I don’t scare you. And now you need me, don’t you?”

“I didn’t think- I didn’t think you’d want to be with me…”

“What did you think this was then, little one? You didn’t think I wanted you? You didn’t think you’ve been driving me crazy? Of course you didn’t. Sweet, innocent thing.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. This woman you loved and wanted felt the same way about you. She gently rested her hands on you and propped you up against some pillows. She felt you shaking.

“My poor little girl. Poor baby,” Agatha said, teasingly rubbing her hands on your inner thighs, covered in slick.

“Mommy… please…”

“Baby, I think it’s only fair that you feel what you do to me before I make you feel better. You’ve been such a tease. Feel, baby.”

She grabbed your hand and placed it on the crotch of her pants, her bulge apparent. You rubbed it a bit and she let out a low groan.

“That feels so fucking good baby. I can’t wait to be inside you.”

You whined, growing more impatient. Agatha spread your thighs and rubbed her clothed bulge against your aching pussy.

“Please, mommy! Take me, claim me! I need you to be my alpha, please. Please I want you mommy…”

“Aww, your begging is adorable, baby. Have you wanted me all this time? And you’ve never said anything?”

“I didn’t think… I didn’t think you… ugh…”

“God, you’re so fucking naive. You’re a pretty, sweet little omega. Why would you ever think the alpha you live with wouldn’t notice you? Wouldn’t be desperate to make you hers?”

You had never really thought of yourself that way. You didn’t think you were the type of omega that someone like Agatha would be so completely desperate for. But you were, and she was.

“Make me yours, Alpha. Please.”

Agatha took it slow at first, starting with one finger, as you whined and begged for more.

She added another finger, while teasing you.

“You’re such a sweet thing. You’ve never even had an alpha before have you? You’ve gone this long without being satisfied, just trying to take your heat suppressants and live life on your own?”

And another finger.

“Poor baby. That’s not what an Omega needs. Cute little Omegas like you need an Alpha to take care of them, to own them. You’ve shown me during all these months we’ve lived together that that’s what you need. You keep pretending to be my wife, cooking and cleaning and decorating. It’s adorable, and I knew exactly what it meant. Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me.”

“I want you to be my Alpha! I want you to own me!”

“That’s right, baby. Now that you’re all warmed up, let’s finally start this.” Agatha pulled her fingers out of you and you whined at the loss, but knew something better was coming as she began taking her clothes off. Under her shirt was a lacy black bra, and she unzipped her fly.

“Mommy needs to be inside you, baby. Are you ready?”

“Please, Mommy. Please, I can’t wait any longer! I need your pups inside me!”

“Oh you do, don’t you?” Said Agatha as she entered you, causing a loud, shaky moan of pure pleasure to fall out of you. “You want Mommy to knot you, to fill you up, trapped inside you until she’s satisfied?”

You nodded frantically and begged for more, harder, it felt so good to be filled up and stretched so thoroughly.

“You’re so big, Mommy! It’s so good, you feel so good!”

“I’m gonna stretch you out, little one, you’re gonna be my perfect little Omega fucktoy! Yes, that feels better than I imagined. I’m- baby- is it really okay if I knot you, if I give you a bite, I think I’m about to-“

“Please! Knot me! Claim me! I want to be yours forever, I want your pups, please…”

You felt Agatha growing even bigger inside of you and figured this must be her knot. You have never in your whole life felt a pleasure this intense, and it was intensified as Agatha bit down on your neck as she came inside of you. You gave her a matching bite as she continued to rut inside you as you finally came.

“I can’t believe you’re finally mine. I love you, my little angel. You’ll be so happy with me, I promise I’ll give you the best life.”

[landwriter]

Ok, for the WIP title ask game, would An Eternity of This happen to be the Oaths follow up? 👀

It would be!! This snippet is the first thing that I wrote again after too many months with not enough writing. It's a scene with Thomas and Catte after Hob has gone out after Dream about the. V grateful to it for getting the gears going again, even though it doesn't quite fit in the rest of the coda. Pleased to have a reason to put it somewhere else, like riiiight here. ~1.1K of Oaths Coda under the cut:

When they were small, Catte had teased Hob for his lack of patience. When they were grown, she persisted in doing so, for he persisted in having none.

He took it in good humour, as was his character; just as it was hers to tease him in all the things she knew better about. It was a mercy that he had been born into a saddle and not to any other manner of work. Strong though he was, she suspected he would not be able to withstand waiting even for a dough to rise. Making a simple basket had nearly driven him to grief.

It was only now, that she felt the abashed stirrings of sympathy. Patience. She turned away from the window and sighed.

“By morrow, he told you,” she said, again.

“By morrow,” replied Thomas, again.

“How many times is that now? God’s blood. It’s not as if the answer is going to be different.”

“Four, I think,” he said dryly. “You’re beside yourself.”

Catte shook her head and scoffed. “So I am. Come and comfort your insensible wife, Thomas.”

He stood up from where he was sat by their hearth, and came to wrap his arms around her. Only she was insensible on the inside, and had to shut her eyes to resist the impulse to slide out of his embrace as soon as it caught her and go back to the window. Her husband was warm and solid and smelled of smoke and himself, and she could be still as him, even if she felt less like a woman and rather more like a flystruck horse in the fields, twitching and restive and nearly mad.

Thomas pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “I’m not sure you can will yourself any calmer than this, hart. The others are surely drinking themselves blind tonight. If it wasn’t that your company was far better, I’d join them. You’ve more grace than us all.”

She smiled at the flattery and turned her face against his chest so she could half look out onto the dark moors. “I do have more practice.”

Thomas drew in a breath. “Is this what it’s like? Each time we ride out?”

Catte looked up. He met her eyes, and she thought of all the long winters, of waking before dawn and starting the day’s labours in the blue-grey light just for a reason to look to the horizon. Waiting for her Thomas before he was even hers, not wanting to put a name to the thing that already had her looking for him in the crowd of returning riders, dry-mouthed, no matter what they called each other.

She cupped his face and thumbed over his cheeks. Her husband now. Not that it made any kind of difference to how it felt, before or after, each and every time. But it was her work to carry the waiting, as riding was theirs. He should never have learned this feeling too. He’d recall it afresh when he rode out again and feel sorry twice over, for leaving and for knowing now how it felt to be left.

“Would you believe me if I say no?” she asked.

Thomas raised his eyebrows. “No. But I’d let you have it.”

“You shouldn’t let me have anything,” she said indignantly.

“Nay, you’d prefer to win it, love,” he said, hiding a smile, and she sighed. It was unjust that he knew her as well as she knew him. “You don’t need to explain. I just don’t know how you bear this.”

“It is like this. But it’s easier, too. Tonight is different.” When Thomas rode out, he was surrounded by good men, brothers and kin, some who she would grant were even as cunning or strong as her man. Hob had gone out with nobody, against a fell enemy they had never met before, not to chance suffering but to pay in it, and no way home but to withstand it all. It didn’t bear saying, so instead she said, “I have you with me. The bed won’t be cold.”

“You’re only trying to make me feel useful,” said Thomas. He pressed his face into hair. “Catte, I hate this,” he murmured.

“I know,” she said. “I hate it too.” Outside, rain gusted down, and they both fell silent, imagining Hob, outside and alone, making his way to Miles Cross.

“I’ll bank the fire,” said Thomas abruptly. Catte looked at the hearth and laughed. It had hours left in it. Thomas had been stoking it ceaselessly. It would take the whole bucket of cold ash.

“And I suppose then we’ll lie in bed and fall asleep,” she said.

He smiled crookedly. “Aye.”

But she did lie down in bed, and soon Thomas joined her, and pressed himself to her back like another bastle wall. Neither of them spoke. Catte had been surprised to discover how much she enjoyed the comfortable marital silence that came in sharing a bed, near as much as the very foremost activities of a marriage bed. Tonight, it hardly warmed her. Tonight, they were only silent because the remainder of their thoughts were too grim to speak aloud. They sounded awful enough inside her head.

Catte wanted to throw off the covers, shake all the fear off with it, but instead, she breathed slowly, and began to paint a picture behind her eyes. It was a childish habit, to soothe and distract. She hadn’t thought about it in years. Her eldest sister had told her to do it when Catte confessed she lost sleep for her nerves as soon her friends began to ride out. Think of someplace else. It doesn’t even need to be real, Effy had said solemnly. Name every detail of it, the smell and the sound and the feel, so you can go into it like another room.

A summer’s evening, she decided. A sky dark blue in the gloaming, the leavings of a perfect clear day. Sweet smelling air and a cool breeze in her hair. Dark enough for bats to be on wing in the field, light enough to point them out still, to her children, who were bonny and hale, and favoured her and Thomas both. But tonight they were indoors, sat at her feet on a yellow woven rug, listening wide-eyed to her fearful recounting of the Faerie Queen and the night their kinsman Hob Gadling won his love. Thomas comes inside, with more lines on his face and more handsome for it, and they pester him with questions, and he laughs—as he does, easily and often now, for here in this little room their future is plentiful and kind—and fetches Hob and his fey husband, both long since returned from the clutches of monstrous creatures, and then Thomas holds Catte in his arms the way he had since they were still half children themselves, and they all together listen to the only fairy story that was true, and ended happily.

WIP Title Ask Game

[btsficsandsuch]

Hello! Could you please write a one shot about jin taking care of his pregnant wife? Thank you:)

I took a different route with this one. I hope that’s okay.

Should I do something similar with the rest of the members?

Pregnancy with Jin

Finding out your pregnant/ Telling Him

You were incredibly nervous. You and your husband Jin had been trying to get pregnant for a few months now. “Our lives could be changed forever.”, you said leaning your head on his shoulder. “Yes they will be but for the better. We’ll be a family and there’s no one else I’d rather have that with than you Y/N.”, he replied. Before you could reply the timer on your phone went off signally it was time to check the results. “You ready?”, Jin asked. You nodded and walked into the bathroom to get the test off of the counter. “Y/N, what’s it say?”, Jin asked. Walking into the bedroom you handed him the test clearly showing two lines. “I’m pregnant.”, you smiled. Jin picked you up and spun you around before gently laying you on the bed. “I love you Y/N.”, he whispered before peppering you with kisses.

Morning Sickness

You were walking out of the bathroom for the third time in the last two hours. “I can’t wait for this part of the pregnancy to be over.”, you said to your husband Jin who was walking back into the bedroom with a cup of peppermint tea and some toast. “I’m sorry Y/N. I really wish there was a better way for me to help.”, he said placing the items on the nightstand. You sat backdown on the bed, your back against the backboard while Jin sat facing you. “Here Y/N, I know you don’t feel good but it’s very important that you continue to eat something to keep your strength up.”, he said bringing the cup of tea up to your lips. After he was happy with the amount of tea you drank and toast that you ate he crawled in bed next to you pulling you down so your head was on his chest and he could rub comforting circles on your back hoping you would fall asleep and take a much needed nap.

Insecurities

“Do we have to go to this party?”, you asked while looking down at your bump poking out through your evening gown. “Yes Y/N, it’s mandatory per the company. Are you not feeling well?”, he asked. “I guess you could say that. I just look so huge already. Everyone is going to be staring at me.”, you whispered trying to hold back tears. Jin walked over and wrapped his arms around your waist gently caressing your bump. “Yes they may stare but it’s only because you’re the most gorgeous woman in the room and you’re creating a life in your body. A life that is our beautiful baby. There’s no reason to judge that.”, he said before giving your cheek a kiss.

Worries

You were currently sitting at the kitchen table sipping on a warm cup of milk hoping it will help to calm your nerves. “Y/N what are you doing awake at his hour?”, Jin asked walking into the kitchen. “Can’t sleep.”, you whispered. He grabbed himself a glass of water and sat down next to you taking your hand in his, “Tell me about what is bothering you.” You took a deep breath before your eyes met his, “I’m just worried that I won’t be a good mom. What if the baby doesn’t like me? What if I can’t get them to stop crying or go to sleep? What if I do something to ruin their life? You’re going to be an amazing dad and they’re going to be stuck with me as a mom.” Jin tried to stop the smile from forming on his face but he just couldn’t. “Y/N, having a baby is scary. It’s okay to be nervous because it’s new and there are a lot of unknowns. We will both learn as we go. Sure, we’re not going to be perfect but this baby will be so loved that they won’t even notice. The fact that you’re sitting here at 4am worried about this shows that you’re going to be an amazing mom who loves their child more than anything in this world. Just like I love you Y/N.”

Aches and Pains

You had been complaining all day about how sore your back was. You hated to be a complainer but somehow it seemed to make you feel a little better. You texted Jin to let him know you were almost home and just wanted to crawl in bed. When you opened the front door you were greeted with a welcoming aroma. You found your husband Jin in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on your favorite meal. “Ah just in time my beautiful Y/N. Take a seat.”, he said while pulling the chair out for you. Jin placed a plate in front of you and took a seat across from you. “Aren’t you going to eat?”, you asked. He shook his head, “I ate as I cooked. I’m pretty full right now.” Instead he reached down and pulled your swollen feet up onto his lap and began to massage them as he asked about your day. Once dinner was done he took you into the bathroom and began running a bath for you, making sure the water was warm enough to soothe your sore body but not hot enough to be dangerous. Carefully he helped you into the tub making sure you didn’t slip and he sat there massaging your shoulders with your favorite vanilla oil letting you enjoy the silence and relaxation you desperately needed.

Cravings

You’ve been tossing and turning for what feels like hours at this point. Not only are you super uncomfortable being that you’re nine months pregnant, but you also have the worst craving for a double cheeseburger and French fries. “Y/N what’s wrong?”, Jin asked still groggy from sleep. “Nothing.”, you heavily sighed. Jin already knew. “Please tell me you’re craving something that we already have in the house.”, he said. “Not unless we have cheeseburgers and French fries.”, you responded sheepishly. Jin laid there staring at the ceiling for a moment before signing and pushing the blankets away from him. “You’re lucky I love you and this baby. I’ll be back shortly.”, he said pulling on a hoodie. “I love you too.”, you said with a smile. As you waited for him to return you also started craving a chocolate milkshake but you knew that Jin was most likely on his way home already. “The milkshake will just have to wait until tomorrow. We can’t do that to daddy right now.”, you whispered to your bump. “Luckily Daddy learned his lesson the first time he had to go get burgers at 3am and got a milkshake this time just in case.”, Jin said smiling down at you before placing your burger and fries in front of you followed by a large chocolate shake.

Labor

“It’s going to be okay Y/N. You can do this. Just focus on me.”, Jin whispered trying to hide the shaking in his voice. “I am focused on you. Focused on how this is all your fault.”, you said through gritted teeth waiting out another contraction. “Alright Y/N just one more push and your little baby will be here.”, the doctor said. You gave it your all not wanting to have to push again and at the count of ten you heard the loud cries of your baby. “You did it Y/N. I’m so proud of you. I love you so much.”, Jin said before leaning over to give you a kiss.

After Delivery

“Why are you staring at me like that?”, you asked. Jin was in the chair next to you while you were holding your newborn son. “I’m just so amazed by you Y/N. I just can’t get over our prefect little family.” You felt a slight blush form on your cheeks. “I love you Jin.”, you whispered. I love you too Y/N”, he responded standing up to give you and your son a kiss.

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

OLIVIA COOKE PHOTOGRAPHED BY EVELYN FREJA FOR LA TIMES.

RYAN CONDAL TALKING ABOUT ALICENT HIGHTOWER'S CHARACTER ARC IN S2.

Condal describes Alicent’s journey this season as “an ongoing expansion of the character,” although he admits the episodes “really put Alicent through her paces.”

That was something Cooke felt deeply.

OLIVIA COOKE TALKING ABOUT ALICENT HIGHTOWER IN S2.

“In this season, she’s so adrift,” Cooke says, joking that there are only so many miserable faces she can make.

“She’s losing her power. With Rhaenyra and Alicent, it’s like a butterfly effect, so as Rhaenyra is gaining power, the hourglass is turned over and the power is waning from Alicent, and her influence is waning as well. There’s an imaginary rope between [the two characters] that carries them throughout seasons.”

Cooke says Alicent “gets a massive dose of the reality” when her “psycho sons” take control of the realm.

On a more positive note, Alicent has the opportunity to explore her sexuality this season, coupling up with a character who will, for now, remain unnamed (let’s just say he matches her freak).

It’s a rare expression of freedom for a woman who has lacked agency, which Condal says has “greatly affected who her character is.”

“That was really important because you’ve not seen Alicent experience that in her adult life, and all of a sudden, she has all these teenage, passionate feelings toward someone,” Cooke says.

“I think that makes her feel insane.”

ABOUT FILMING 'HOUSE OF THE DRAGON' S2.

After seven months of production, which wrapped in September, Cooke was “absolutely knackered” — a polite British way of saying the experience had completely depleted her.

“Last season, Emma and I were only in four episodes each, so we’d walk in and be full of beans when everyone else was at death’s door. Then I think we both really felt the enormity of the schedule. And it’s so emotional.”

“Both of us are just either sobbing or screaming all the time. I don’t know if I smile in Season 2.”

Despite the exhaustion, Cooke loves playing Alicent.

She’s a character of “so many subterranean levels of repression and anger and despair and passion,” which is a huge gift.

Has compassion and empathy for her, and she understands why Alicent does manipulative, devious things.

“She’s smarter than all the men as well and she could rule and she’d be really f— good at it.”

“It’s so frustrating that she can’t believe she would be this amazing ruler because she’s so indoctrinated by the patriarchy and by her father.”

“She’s been molded to talk sweetly into the ears of these powerful men, and it’s such a disservice to who she is and what she’s capable of.”

ABOUT HER PERSONAL LIFE.

Before Season 1 premiered, Cooke was worried that her personal life might become too public for comfort.

“I just didn’t want my life to change. It’s such a big TV show, and I hadn’t ever done anything to this scale before. Or if I had, it was a film that comes out and then goes away and doesn’t live in the culture for years and years and years.”

So far, Cooke’s fears have gone mostly unfounded. She’s recognized, sure, but not in a way that disrupts her daily life.

And when it does, fans are generally nice about it, like recently when she was on the London Underground going home and a group of drunken girls started shouting “Alicent” in her direction.

“It’s actually been all right. I think you notice an uptick as the show is about to come out because they’re promoting it more.”

ABOUT ACTING.

She calls herself a “catastrophizer” and admits she can be hard on herself when reflecting on a performance.

ABOUT THEIR UPCOMING PROJECTS.

She wants to “embark on more of the unknown,” something the actor is aiming to do with her production company Chippy Tea, which she formed two years ago.

Her first production, a romance film called “Takes One to Know One,” will shoot in Rome early next year and stars Jamie Bell alongside Cooke.

She also wants to try her hand at directing.

“When I’m on set, I’m always figuring out how things work and almost shadowing the director.”

“I find acting a lot of the time to be so insular. You can get in your own way. I like the collaborative process of making something from the ground up, and I want to do more of that.”

“It’s also taking control of my own destiny a little bit more.”

ABOUT ALICENT HIGHTOWER FOR 'HOUSE OF THE DRAGON' SEASON 3.

As for Alicent, well, she may not be so lucky. But, she wants to play her for as long as possible.

“I really want her to just go off and be in the forest with some chickens,” she says, jokingly.

“But really, there’s some good stuff for her for Season 3, if we get it. Really exciting stuff.”

[comphetkoncass]

one-plus-one, easy math cass&kon, fake dating (no, really, she's a lesbian, this is a fake date) word count: 2557 also on ao3

“You… want me to be your plus-one?” 

Cass nods. She’s started talking lately, according to Tim, but she’s still pretty quiet. Kon thinks even when she gets more comfortable with speaking, she might still be a woman of few words – she seems the type to choose them carefully, the same way she’s precise with her movements. 

“Well…” Kon rubs the back of his neck, thinking it over. “I thought we weren’t dating anymore. I thought you were happy about not dating anymore.” 

Cass tilts her head to the side, and Kon knows she’s probably reading his entire soul. He squirms a little under her intense gaze. Then, “I am.” 

“Then…” He frowns. “Why are you asking me to be your plus one, if we’re not dating?” 

It’s a longer phrase, and Kon thinks she might struggle. But to his pleasant surprise, though she takes some time to consider her words, they don’t seem overly difficult. “...I need someone outside the family.” 

“And I’m the best choice?” he asks. “...Really?” 

“I was surprised too.” 

Kon barks out a surprised laugh. She’s learned enough for jokes, then, that’s great. She smiles, and he’s glad she’s comfortable enough to joke around with him still – he missed making her happy. As whirlwind and short-lived as their romance was, making her smile was a definite perk. He always got the feeling that joy was a rare experience for her. He just hopes she’s happy in Gotham. To him, it’s always been stifling – not least because Batman is an asshole. 

“So?” Cass asks, looking at him with intense brown eyes. 

“Ah, what the hell,” he finally says. “Sure. But I need to go shopping, I don’t have anything fancy enough for this kind of thing.” 

Cass smiles then – and holds up three separate cards in Bruce Wayne’s name. Stolen, he thinks, given the mischief on her face. Kon quickly discovers that, actually, there is a superpower better than his TTK, and it’s called money. He whoops in delight, and it doesn’t take long for them to explore Gotham’s downtown, going from shop to shop until they find the perfect outfits to blend in with high society. 

(Or, rather, how they think they could blend in with high society. Cass’s dress is probably too loose and flapper-style for the current era, and Kon’s probably has too much satin, but they match, and they make for a fun duo.) 

////////

In the end, Kon probably wasn’t the best choice for the Gala. But Dick and Tim are both gone on a mission outside Gotham, leaving Cass the only Wayne child to represent the family alongside Bruce. Kon probably wasn’t the first choice, either – and privately, Kon wonders if Cass is testing boundaries with Bruce, given he’d been all but banned from Gotham. If she is testing boundaries, he hopes she gets whatever she’s angling for, even if it’s just a little more freedom to hang out with friends. 

It’s not until halfway through the Gala that Kon starts to wonder if maybe Cass had ulterior motives after all. 

They’ve been talking and tasting the overpriced snack table for most of the night, almost-goofing-off but not blatantly enough to catch Bruce’s ire (or so Kon hopes). Kon’s been monopolizing Cass’s attention, something he’s pretty good at, if he does say so himself – he’s always been a charmer. 

But eventually, it wears off; that, or everyone waiting for a chance with Cass finally get bold enough to interrupt them. And while Cass is trying to throw a wad of caviar into Kon’s open mouth, at that. 

“Ahem,” a young man about Cass’s age says. “So terribly sorry to interrupt. May I?” 

“May you what?” Kon asks, straightening up. He wipes the tiniest trace of caviar from the corner of his lip – Cass is an excellent shot, and Kon’s pretty good at catching, so it’s not like she ever missed. 

Cass, meanwhile, stands up a little straighter. 

“Interrupt,” the young man says. “Miss Wayne, I don’t mean to take you away from… present company. But I was hoping for a dance. Perhaps a bit of light conversation.” 

Kon stares at the guy, raising a brow. 

Kon’s no body language reader. Not like Cass. But he knows her heart’s a little faster, in the bad way. The blood pressure raising way. He glances between her and the new guy, and ultimately decides, nah, he’s not going to let this happen. 

“Sorry,” he says. “Her dance card is pretty full. I could try to rearrange, but she and I, we’re pretty busy.” 

Cass looks up in surprise – an expression he’s not used to seeing on her face. 

The new guy, too, looks surprised. Kon thinks he can see his eye twitching. Kon bets his name is something silly, like Macadamian Rosegarden Cavendish the Third, and that he’s not used to being told no. 

All the more reason to say no, then. 

Kon sends him a friendly smile, then looks back over at Cass and extends her a hand. Time to go somewhere a little less approachable. “Speaking of dancing though – Cass and I should probably practice a little. I’ve got two left feet, see, and she's the best dancer I know. Cass?” 

Cass looks at Kon’s hand, then his face. Wordlessly, she takes his hand. 

Kon sends the guy a two-fingered salute, then is quick to walk with her to a less occupied part of the Gala. There’s a balcony nearby, one just big enough for the two of them. Kon makes a little more room by hopping up on the ledge, swinging his legs around so he can face Cass and the party inside the windows. 

Cass is quiet for a while, but she looks less tense out in the night air. He almost didn’t notice it beyond her heartbeat, but she’d gotten a little more tense when Macadamian Rosegarden Cavendish the Third had approached – a tension that hadn’t been there when it was just the two of them enjoying themselves. 

It takes a moment, but finally she finds her words again. “...Thank you.” 

“No problem,” Kon says. “Is it like that a lot, at these things?” 

Cass shrugs one shoulder. “Second gala,” she says. When Kon doesn’t quite understand, she pauses and elaborates, just a little. “...I don’t come to many. Not sure.”

Kon nods. That makes sense. “I hope you don’t have to go much more often then, because it must suck having to reject people so much.” 

Cass looks at the ground. 

Kon frowns a little. The wind disturbs her carefully ironed bob, and when she doesn’t try to remove it from her face, Kon reaches out with just a hint of TTK and does it for her. She looks up, equal parts confused and startled. 

“Sorry,” he says, putting both hands up and stopping his powers. “Just- Sorry. Got distracted. Wanted to help.” 

Cass crosses her arms in front of her chest. 

Kon finds his train of thought, then, and asks, “Do you usually get to reject them? Or do you end up dancing with them anyways?” 

Cass’s silence speaks volumes. 

Kon lets out a slow breath. It fogs in front of him in the chilly night air. “I’m sorry,” he says, sincerely. “That sucks.”

“Not your fault.” 

“Well… I’m glad I could come with this time,” he says. “So you don’t have to dance with anyone you don’t want to.” 

Cass nods. There is the tiniest hint of a smile again, and she tucks a lock of hair behind her ears. Then, quietly, “Even you?” 

It takes him aback for a second. Then, he understands what she means, and nods. “Well yeah, I only said your dance card was full to lose that jerk. You don’t have to actually dance with me – even though I will say, my dance moves are great, I’m an absolute party animal. I can do the Mashed Potato like nobody’s business.” 

Cass blinks, serious instead of laughing. “Mashed potato?”

Kon grins, standing on top of the balcony ledge. “I’m so glad you asked, I’d be happy to demonstrate-”

He’s pretty sure he’s not doing it exactly right, but Cass looks almost hypnotized by the way his heels click and his knees move in sync with an imaginary rhythm. He’s definitely doing the hands wrong, but he’s having more fun with it this way. 

“Dancing with yourself?” Cass asks, grinning up at him. "Not a waltz?"

“Way more fun,” Kon says with a grin. “I could show you how to do it yourself?” 

Cass just laughs at him. She’s already imitating his movement – in a way that flows better than he’s doing. Right – almost forgot, movement was her first language. Of course she’s better than him already. 

Instead of feeling put out, Kon just grins at her. 

She looks like she’s having fun again – and really, that’s all he wants. 

When she looks back up at him, her smile is everything. Kon knows she isn’t interested in a relationship – or at least, not one with him. Kon checks in with himself, gives himself a stern reminder not to read into anything. He’s here to make sure she has fun, and that’s all. 

Eventually, after teaching Cass the Twist, the Shopping Cart, and an attempt at the Moonwalk – all of which she masters immediately – Kon hops down from the ledge and moves to sit again. 

He looks up at the sky, and mourns the fact that Gotham doesn’t really have stars. “Thanks for inviting me,” he says sincerely. “It’s been really fun tonight. I haven’t gotten to go to something like this in a while, and the ones I went to before – they weren’t that fun, either, even if they were a lot less fancy than this.” 

Cass looks a little surprised. “But you’re so… exciting?” 

Kon chuckles a little. “Yeah,” he says. “But it’s still more fun here with you.” 

It takes her a moment to chew on that. Eventually, she moves to sit on top of the ledge next to him. They both look inwards at the party, watching ladies in fancy dresses dance with well-dressed men in suits. The fake laughter, the champagne glasses. Kon’s never been that familiar with the super-rich, but he’s had his fair share of parties. Especially back when he was Just Superboy. 

Ever since getting his name, and especially after moving in with Ma and Pa Kent, life’s been a lot slower. More balanced. He has room to breathe. 

Kon doesn’t know much about Cass’s life before being adopted by Bruce Wayne. But he hopes it’s been a relief for her, too. That whatever her life was like before, that she can breathe in this fresh start, too. He hopes it’s not constant vigilante work all the time. She deserves a chance to have fun and be a real person, too. 

When Kon looks back, he finds Cass staring at a young woman with a particularly daring backless dress in crushed velvet Prussian blue. 

Her cheeks are pink, he notices.

And he thinks, maybe he’s reading into this too much. But if he’s not, he thinks he understands her a little bit better. And maybe why she seemed to have a lot of fun on their date, and liked the idea of a romance, and a TTK castle in the sky, and a spark of real love with someone – but why something was missing. 

“She’s pretty,” Kon says, looking at the young woman, too. “Do you like her dress?” 

Cass turns to him, brows furrowed. She glances between his body language and his lips, seemingly puzzled. “I wouldn’t want to wear it.” 

“Sorry,” Kon says, realizing he might be confusing her by being subtle. “I wouldn’t expect you to, yeah, it’s not very practical.” 

Cass looks at him again, still confused. 

“...But,” he says, “It’s okay to like how it looks on her. It’s okay if you think she’s pretty.” 

Cass doesn’t say anything for a little while. Her face is still a little pink. 

“Pretty doesn’t matter,” Cass says, but her eyes don’t leave the blue dress. “It’s not supposed to.” 

“Sure,” Kon says. “But dancing doesn’t matter either. And it can still be fun. Pretty – sometimes pretty can be fun. Sometimes people like to look pretty just to enjoy it. Like art, or whatever.”

It takes a moment, but finally, Cass nods. “And she?” she asks. “She wants to look pretty so that someone sees her as pretty?”

“Something like that.” 

“Her date,” Cass says. Her eyes are laser-focused on the man locking arms with her. “She wants her date to see her as pretty.” She pauses for a moment. A long one. Then, in a smaller voice, “Not me.” 

Kon is quiet for a moment, not sure what to say to that. 

Cass’s shoulders slump. “I shouldn’t look. I wouldn’t want her to feel-” She frowns, looks over at the boy who had asked her to dance earlier, who Kon had helped her reject. And Kon recognizes her dilemma. The fear of looking, of asking to dance, when it’s unwanted. When there is a fundamental incompatibility. 

Cass shivers, and Kon sheds his jacket to drape over her shoulders. It’s satin, so it doesn’t do all that much to protect her from the cold, but Kon likes to think it at least helps. She pulls it closer, and looks more at ease immediately. 

“You don’t have to look if it makes you worried to think about this kind of thing,” he says, carefully. “But it’s not wrong to think she’s pretty, regardless of who she’s trying to be pretty for.” 

She looks up at him, still unsure. 

“Trust me on this,” Kon says, adding a wink for flair. “It’s okay if you don’t like boys. It’s okay if you like girls – hell, it’s okay if you only like girls. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

Cass looks in through the window, of the sea of wealthy Gothamites. Kon follows her eyes to the small, formal dance floor – where the only ones dancing are men-and-woman pairs. How they lean in close to each other; how the man leads the woman, how they’re pushed close together, how it’s impossible to miss the intimacy in the way they hold each other, even in formal dances. The way men’s suits cut neatly to their waists and flatter masculine figures; the way the women’s dresses accentuate whatever she believes her best features to be. The way they all follow the same type of dance, with no room for new steps. No room for fun. 

He thinks it cuts quite a picture against two vigilantes, teaching each other how to dance with themselves in the cold night air. 

“Someday you might get to dance with a girl,” he says. “Sorry if it might not be tonight. But someday.” 

Cass laughs a little, pink to her ears. “And you?” 

“What, who am I going to dance with?” 

She nods. 

Kon lets out a long breath, leaning backwards, elbows brushing the railing. He’s not sure himself. “I like dancing, just not the boring, stuffy kind,” he finally says. “As long as my partner’s having fun, I don’t really care how I do it, or who I’m dancing with.” 

Cass follows his eyes – the way he watches everyone inside the window, his eyes not particularly caught by any one person. 

“Okay,” she says, and accepts that as an answer. Kon thinks she reads something different in his body language – but if she does, she doesn’t tell him any different. 

"Let's stay outside a little longer, yeah?" Kon finally says. "I think I remember the Electric Slide. I've got the song on my phone and everything."

Cass grins, and Kon pulls up his phone. The Electric Slide clashes horribly against the orchestra inside, but he doesn't care. They've got their own dancing to do, and they'll be doing it to their own rhythm.

[songforeddiemunson]

Things That Go BUMP

Eddie Munson x Reader (description vague for inclusivity, no use of YN, no upside-down).

Summary: Eddie and reader agree to house-sit for a recently widowed woman, and things happen.

Warnings/Tropes: established relationship (this could also be a sequel to Next Summer), no smut, ghost story, talk of accidental death, description of and discussion of death and mortal remains, rather inappropriate funerary banter, dark themes. Avert thine eyes if death talk unsettles you, but this IS a Halloween fic, so, yeah.

Author's Note: this is actually based on a personal experience I had with my boyfriend at the time. True story, my buddies!

Here is a map of the layout of the house. I only included details, i.e. furniture, if it was relevant to the story.

Word Count: 3300

October 1991

Life in Hawkins was peaceful and harmonious, and you were looking forward to your first autumn in rural Indiana with Eddie. You imagined there would be long walks through crunchy leaves whilst scenting the faint aroma of wood smoke as it drifted among the trees. Things, however, didn't quite go as you'd planned.

Lenny Weir, a kind middle aged man that you had built an acquaintance with, was killed in a tragic accident where he was fatally electrocuted while repairing an appliance.

You had been deeply saddened to learn of Lenny's passing. Everyone in Hawkins had heard of the accident; he was a popular fellow among the locals, and was known for helping people when something needed to be fixed or tended to, free of charge. Word traveled fast, and a blanket of sadness enveloped the whole town.

He and his wife Pam chose to remain childless, preferring the company of a tabby cat called Jasper and a particularly intelligent Border Collie named Toby. You knew all of this because you had house-sat for them for a week over the summer when they went on vacation. They lived in an idyllic little cottage framed by flowering shrubs and a stream flowed through their backyard. It really was a lovely place and you had enjoyed staying there immensely.

You attended Lenny's viewing with Eddie. You had never felt very comfortable with death in the past, and you had only been a permanent resident of Hawkins for four months. You didn’t know many people yet, which heightened your feeling of shyness as the other people from town filled the room around you. You sat toward the back, nodding solemnly at the people you saw that you did know, but preferring to stay out of the way.

When it came time for everyone to file past the assembled family and view the deceased, your heart was in your throat. You hesitated, gripping Eddie’s hand tightly.

“Hey,” Eddie whispered, leaning his head conspiratorially toward yours. “I’ve got you. We’ll do this together.”

You nodded. “Okay,” you replied anxiously.

As you moved toward Lenny’s relatives, who were standing near the front of the room next to the casket, you nodded and murmured the usual script of ‘so very sorry,” and “such a tragedy,” until you spotted Pam, who looked composed despite having red, puffy eyes.

“Pam,” you said as you reached her. “This is awful, I’m so sorry, I don't really have the words. How are you holding up?”

Pam shook her head. “I don’t really think it’s all fully registered; I feel like I’m trapped in some kind of awful dream.”

You nodded sympathetically, “I can only imagine. Is there anything I can do?”

“Actually,” she replied, “Next week I’m going away for several days to stay with my sister in Utah and get out of the house for a while. Would you mind staying and looking after Jasper and Toby?”

“Of course I will,” you said without hesitation. “Do you mind if Eddie comes too?”

“Not at all, he’s more than welcome.”

“Great, we’ll be there,” you said with a small smile.

“Thank you Pam,” Eddie added. “I’m so sorry about all of this.”

“Thank you so much,” she said, her voice thick. “Now I guess you’d better go say goodbye to Lenny.”

“Here goes…” you murmured quietly to Eddie as you approached the casket, kneeling down on the provided cushion.

You quickly noticed that the glue holding one of Lenny’s eyes closed was starting to come loose, giving his right eye the appearance that it was partially open.

“Oh god,” you groaned.

“Fuck, that’s not how that’s supposed to look,” Eddie whispered.

“Jesus, should we tell someone?”

“Well I doubt we’re the first ones to notice it, we're among the last people up here…”

“This is why I hate these things. Viewings. It’s all so unnatural…” you broke off with a shudder. You were horrified, and you couldn’t stop staring at poor Lenny's eye.

“Well we started having viewings because we kept burying people alive back in the day. And it kinda looks like Lenny is starting to wake up right now…”

“Dude,” you admonished in a firm whisper.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie said, “it’s just shocking." Eddie paused, his eyes widening in horror. "Oh god, Lenny was electrocuted…do you think anyone told Pam his death was ‘shocking’? Oh man, I hope not.”

“I can’t take you anywhere,” you said. You were mortified, but the stress of everything was making you want to burst out into very inappropriate and ill-timed laughter. “We are leaving right now!”

“Sorry Lenny,” Eddie murmured hastily as you dragged him away.

You arrived at Pam’s house the following week with a duffel bag and Eddie in tow. Pam greeted you at the door and walked you through the house. She reminded you about where the pet food was and all the other things she thought you should know. Before she departed, she left you with some words you would never forget:

“Kids, sometimes weird things happen in the house. I don’t know. I wonder if maybe Lenny hasn’t moved on.”

“Say what now?” Eddie prompted.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, sometimes I just hear things sometimes, and I wonder if things get moved. Either that or I’m losing my mind.”

“Well we don’t want that," you said, and Eddie laughed a little too loudly.

“No, we would definitely prefer ghosts,” he said, making Pam actually laugh a little.

The first few days passed without incident.  You and Eddie enjoyed playing with Toby, lounging about outside by the fire pit, watching TV with Jasper curled up on your lap, and picking apples from the gnarled old apple tree in the backyard.  Out of respect for Pam and Lenny, you and Eddie shared the large sectional sofa in the living room; it was shaped like a large letter L so there was plenty of room for both of you. 

One day, your curiosity got the best of you.

"Lenny was cremated, right?" you asked Eddie.

"Yeah, so I heard."

"So where are his ashes? I wonder if he’s in the house or if Pam scattered him somewhere,” you pondered, and then began looking around the house for an urn.  

It had occurred to you that perhaps you were being disrespectful, but Lenny was such a sweet guy and you didn't think he would mind. Besides, part of you just really wanted to know if you were sharing a house with someone’s mortal remains. 

Shortly afterward, you came across a small inconspicuous brown box on the nightstand between the couch and the sitting room wall, but it was on a lower shelf that was hidden from view by the sofa.

"Do you think he's in there?"  Eddie asked.

"Only one way to find out."

You opened the box.  Inside the box was a cylindrical, plain, brass-looking tin.  The suspense was killing you both.

"I think that's it," Eddie said almost in a whisper.

"Well if it is," you said, "it isn't very ceremonial.  It doesn't look anything like what I would expect an urn to look like."

"I think– well, when my mom died they gave us her ashes in something pretty plain. It’s up to the family to buy something nicer.”

“Oh I’m sorry babe,” you said, giving Eddie’s arm a squeeze. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, it’s okay,”  Eddie said with a reassuring smile.

“But if that is Lenny, why is he tucked away out of sight as if she’s hiding him?”

 "Maybe keeping it in view is too painful for her right now."

"Maybe it's just candy or something."

You went back and forth on this for a while, but you had to know for sure.  You started to open the tin.

"Jesus, don't!"  Eddie hissed.

"I’m sorry but I have to know," you said. “Besides, there’s no harm in just looking. I’m sure Lenny wouldn’t mind.”

“Ugh, fine,” Eddie said. "But if you let out a ghost, I'm blaming you."

You opened the tin.  Inside the tin was a clear plastic bag containing the cremated remains of Lenny.  You and Eddie stared silently at it for a moment.  It definitely didn't look like what you had imagined the ashes of a cremated person to look like.  You always thought it would look like...well, ashes.  It didn't.  It closely resembled gravel, and you could see little bits of bone as if someone had smashed up what was left with some sort of hammer.  You immediately felt uneasy and replaced the lid. 

"Wow. So that's....that's Lenny," Eddie said.

"Yeah," you replied simply. You weren't sure what else to say.

You silently sent an apology into the ether, feeling a little remorseful for prying.

You didn't talk about it much after that and went about your business, but you had the very unsettling realization that you had been sleeping with your head no more than six inches away from Lenny’s remains for days.

The following day it was raining and quite chilly, so you and Eddie spent most of the day inside watching TV.  Somewhere around 8pm, the TV abruptly switched off.

"Did you lean on the remote?" you asked.

"No, it's right there on the table," Eddie replied.

That's strange... you thought to yourself.  Then Pam’s voice echoed in your mind.  Sometimes weird things happen.  You shrugged it off.

You turned the TV back on and continued watching.  About ten minutes later it switched to snow, then turned off again.

"What the hell..."  You and Eddie said in unison.

Suddenly Toby the dog lifted his head and stared into the adjacent kitchen, a low growl emitting from his throat.

"Okay, that's freaky,"  Eddie said.

"Go look and see what it is," you said with wide eyes.

“Uh, I’d rather not."

You quickly dialed Nancy’s number to get her opinion, who told you your imaginations were running wild and you just had to calm down.  She chatted with you for a while and nothing further happened, so you hung up and tried to distract yourself with a bit of making out. You had a hard time feeling interested in sex, however. You had the very unsettling feeling that you were being watched.

A couple more hours passed without anything odd happening, and you were beginning to feel quite sleepy.  You realized that you didn't want to turn off the lights, and you also didn't want to keep sleeping on the couch next to Lenny’s remains.  Ugh suck it up; what are you six years old? You thought to yourself, and laid down to go to sleep. You did leave a light on in the kitchen, however.

The night passed quietly, though sleep was difficult to find.  You tossed and turned, and what little sleep you did achieve was filled with strange and frightening dreams.  One dream that stood out consisted of you waking to go to the bathroom.  As you passed the room that used to be Lenny’s office on the way to the toilet, you saw him.  He was jogging on his treadmill whistling a happy tune, but he wasn't alive.  As you paused in the doorway his head turned to look at you. He was burned black; one eye stared at you, and the other was burned away. His mouth was twisted into a horrible grin.  For a fleeting moment you wondered how he could whistle with no lips, and then you screamed.  You awoke with a start, and stared at the window for the rest of the night, waiting for the morning light.

The next day you spent the majority of it out of the house.  You drove around and visited some friends, and grabbed a bite to eat at a local diner.  You were avoiding the house, but neither of you would admit it.  When you finally did return just before nightfall, you entered the house trepidatiously, as if something was going to jump out at you.  

You were greeted by Toby, who wagged his tail and seemed very thrilled by your presence, which was comforting.  You found fixings for s’mores in the kitchen, and built a fire in the pit in the backyard.  As you sat at the crackling fire, your eyes were frequently drawn to the house, as if you would see someone walk past the window, or worse- a charred face grinning back at you. Eddie gently teased you for getting yourself “all worked up,” but you could tell he was uneasy too.

After a couple of hours the fire began to die out, and it was getting cold.  You knew you had to go in, but you took your time gathering up all of your things.  As you entered the house from the back door into the kitchen you spotted Toby, who was sitting in the living room at the doorway to the kitchen.  It was the first time he hadn't greeted you at the door.  

"Hey Toby!  C'mere Toby!"  you called.  He wouldn't come.  He didn't growl, he didn't cower, he just stared and wouldn't move.

"That is not like him at all," Eddie said.

"I know," you agreed with building unease. 

You both continued calling to the dog, and after no success Eddie walked over to him.  He took Toby’s collar by hand and gently pulled, speaking to him in a soothing voice, but he resisted.  

He kept looking at you as if he wanted to come because he was a very good boy, but his attention was always drawn back to something else.  Something past you, past the kitchen- toward the end of the house that contained the bathroom and Lenny’s office.  Your mind was frantically trying to determine what would cause this sweet and intelligent dog to refuse to enter a room in his own house, and it freaked you out.

"Toby!  COME!"  you yelled. 

You regretted shouting at the dog the moment you did it because just as you did, Toby lowered his head and practically crawled into the kitchen to your side where he stood with his tail between his legs, whimpering.  You felt sorry for him, but it did nothing to assuage your growing fear.

You apologized to the dog and made your way into the living room, and Toby followed without protest.  Too nervous to go right to bed after the event that had just occurred, you turned on the TV.  Sure enough, after a few minutes it shut off.

"Maybe the TV is old, and there's something wrong with the wiring," Eddie said, though he seemed unconvinced.

"But how do you explain the rest of the weirdness?"

"Dunno.  Maybe Nancy’s right and we're just letting our imaginations get carried away.”

Right after Eddie spoke, a white flash shot past the window.

"Did you see that?" you asked a little too loudly.

"Uh, yeah, I sure did," Eddie replied.

"Probably a white moth reflecting the light from the front porch light."  you said. “Right?”

 "Yeah, that would have had to be a very large moth.”

“But wait.... the front porch is on the other side of the house."

“You’re not helping,” Eddie said, his eyes darting around nervously.

You sat and stared at the windows for a while. After several minutes, it happened again.

“Alright, what the fuck was that??” Eddie said, his voice increasing in timbre.

"Big white moth, remember?" you weren’t sure why you were trying to convince yourself of this when you didn’t really believe it.

"Right.  Big white moth."

Suddenly, right behind your heads on the wall against the sofa you were sitting on, there was a distinctive banging sound. Three distinctive raps, as if someone was pounding with their fist. Thump, thump, thump.

You screamed and Eddie jumped off the couch. The dog barked.  It happened again, but it was louder. THUMP, THUMP, THUMP. Toby barked again, but he wouldn't go investigate as one would expect a dog to do.  He was scared.  So were you.

"What's on the other side of that wall?"  Eddie asked.

"The bedroom!"  you replied.

"We'll go together to see what it is."

"Are you crazy?!?"

"We have to see if someone is messing with us.  What if someone broke in?" Eddie reasoned.

"How dare you use logic at a time like this? Fine. Grab the dog."

As you slowly made your way off the couch and toward the kitchen-- which the bedroom was off of on the left-- you attempted to summon the dog, who would have none of it.

"Forget Toby, he's not coming,"  Eddie said.

As you neared the bedroom door you heard another sound.  

It sounded almost like a tea kettle going off to signify the water is boiling, only it wasn't constant.  It fluctuated, almost like a person rubbing their finger across a freshly washed window.  But it was loud, and it was in the room with you.

You both screamed and abandoned the bedroom inspection, and instead ran toward the bathroom to put some more distance between yourselves and that awful sound.  As you ran past Lenny's study you remembered your nightmare, and squeezed your eyes shut as you hurried by, clutching Eddie’s hand as he guided you toward the bathroom.  

The bathroom was at the far end of the house, directly across the hall from the front door.  As you neared the bathroom you glanced toward the front door, and then a bolt of terror shot up your spine to your scalp, almost paralyzing you in place.

The front door was wide open.

Eddie was clever enough to grab the cordless phone before your flight to the other end of the house, and you locked ourselves in the bathroom.

"The front door is open!  What the fuck? The front door is open!"  you stammered in a panic.

"What?!?"  Well...we have to close it!"

"I'm not leaving this room!"

"Jesus Christ! We can’t just leave the front door open!"

You called Nancy again.  Eddie dialed while you professed your regret– out loud–  to Lenny for interfering with his ashes.  As usual, Nancy was not impressed.  She said you were just being silly and needed to knock it off.  Next, Eddie called Steve, who was more appropriately concerned and agreed to come right over, but he lived twenty minutes away.  So you waited.

Nothing seemed to happen while you were in the bathroom.  Finally after what seemed like an eternity, there was a knock on the bathroom door, making you scream.

"It's just me," Steve’s muffled voice proclaimed from the other side of the door, and you flung it open and practically strangled him with a huge hug. 

"You guys left the front door wide open," he said.  "You shouldn’t do that; it’s unsafe!" 

For the remainder of the week you took care of the feeding and watering duties by arriving solely to do so, and then leaving as soon as you were done.  You and Eddie were in agreement that you would not be spending another night in that place.  

You told Pam about it, and she said that the strange behavior didn't seem like Lenny at all, but surmised that perhaps he was just trying to get your attention for some reason. Everyone’s heard the stories about people who die sudden deaths feeling confused and unable to move on; perhaps that was the case here.  Maybe it wasn't Lenny at all, but something more malicious.  You tried not to think about it too much.

Six months later, Pam dreamed of Lenny.  In the dream Lenny was standing on a beach waving to Pam.  She tried to run to him, but no matter how much she ran she couldn't catch up with him.  She then realized with a stab of profound sadness that Lenny wasn't really trying to greet her, but he was actually saying goodbye.  

He then turned and walked away from her, while Pam stood and watched. Once Lenny was out of sight, she felt a deep sense of relief.  She never dreamed of him again.

A few months later the house burned down.

Thank you for reading! As always, comments and reblogs are the lifeblood of all fic writers. Please show us some love! :)

(yes, this is really a true story)

[xingyoi]

Attention Needed!

Secret Kiss with Knight

Merlin x Reader

Summary : Merlin is too busy making a potion for King Arthur and you aren’t having any of it.

Word Count : 894 words

Type of fanfiction : Fluff

tw : mention of Lancelot…  needy Merlin (not intimately) 

You laid on your bed and watched from afar as Merlin brewed together a potion for Arthur. He’d been tasked with watching over you as you had, once again, fell going up the stairs because of the sheer lack of balance the woman you switched bodies with had. 

Though your leg felt completely fine now! It’d been a while, and it didn’t hurt much to begin with. You could walk just fine without experiencing pain. But with Merlin ever being persistent, he told you to rest. After some time… it got quite boring not being able to do anything while Merlin did whatever magic things he was doing.

“Merlinnnn…” You called, hoping to get his attention.

The only response was a quiet and questioning hum. Not even a look or glance. Or a single movement directed towards you! That frustrated you as he’d paid no mind to you at all this entire time. Wasn’t he supposed to be your lover?!

Getting up from the comfort of the soft sheets, you walked to Merlin. Peering over his shoulder, you saw him mixing things together. You also noticed how he shied away from how close you were standing to him. But he was wearing his veil, covering his face like usual.

“Why do you still wear that around me? You don’t need to.” You reached up a tucked some hair behind his ear, resulting in him shying away. Again.

“I-I prefer wearing it.” He claimed, his hands now, shakily, working. 

“But I’ve seen you without it so many times! We’re also lovers, right Merlin? Doesn’t it get in your way a lot?”

He didn’t say anything back as he was apparently trying to ignore you in favor of his work instead.

You pouted, becoming upset as it felt like he just simply didn’t want you around right now.

You huffed as you turned towards the door to leave. “Fine. I’m sure Lancelot will keep me company.” Despite saying that, the queen’s secret rendezvous man was the last person you wanted to keep you company.

“No.” Suddenly, Merlin spoke up, clearly not happy about what you said. Or he was jealous.

Looking over your shoulder, you could see he finally put his work down and was facing you. “A-Ah! H-He, I-I…” He stammered, looking away and back at his things. Since he turned away, he didn’t see you start approaching him again. “H-He wouldn’t be good company for you…”

Without warning, you gently pulled his veil off his face, with him protesting after. You couldn’t care that much as you tossed it onto your bed. Cupping his pretty face after, you looked into his eyes. Merlin’s face was almost like a tomato as he started tearing up, like usual.

“You’re so cute Merlin. You know that?” He brought the back of his hand up to cover his mouth as he looked away. You brushed away the tears building up in his eyes and wrapped your arms around his neck, laying your head on his shoulder. With how your bodies were so close together, his face only get redder.

You started planting small kisses to his upper neck and under his jawline, making him squirm. Trailing up further, you kissed all over his face. Leaving just one part that was covered by him. Gently pulling his hand away, you look him in the eyes again. You wait and watch him, making sure he was fine with this and that you weren’t making him uncomfortable. 

When you saw no signs of said feelings, you pulled him closer and kissed him deeply. Savoring the moment and the satisfaction of finally getting what you wanted. You entangled your hand into his hair—a color akin to that of beautiful snow—and brought him closer once again.

Unexpectedly, he wrapped his arms around you. His hands coming around to cross into an ‘x’ over your back. If there had somehow been even a sliver of a space between you two, there definitely wasn’t one now. Your bodies now pressed fully against each other as you kept deeply kissing one another.

You pulled away a moment later, planting a kiss to his cheek and stepping back. With a playful smirk, you spoke. “Well, my ankle is getting tired and I’m sure you still have your magical things to work on.” You started making your way back to your bed when you felt him grab your wrist and turn you around swiftly. 

Merlin tightly wrapped his left arm around your waist and used his right hand to pull you in, his fingers catching in your hair. One of your hands rested on his upper arm, and the other on his shoulder. A few seconds later, he pulled back and rested his forehead against yours, albeit being flustered.

“Merlin?” You muttered, feeling your heart start picking up in pace. “King Arthur can wait. He doesn’t like the potions anyways.” He muttered back quickly, for once looking into your eyes without wavering. Smirking playfully again, you whispered to him. “You were supposed to have been watching over me anyways. I’m getting what I’m due.”

Through the night, you two lavished in the soft affection and closeness you offered the other. Ultimately, you slept in the arms of the man you loved, who cherished you just as much.

And Merlin learned that it’s nicer to postpone work for you.