#hi uh. blue period moment

[zip-zoom]

god what’s wrong with him.

[tvckerwash]

wash tormenting the reds in the most petty ways possible because he's still pissed off about them hitting him with a car and then blowing him up in s8 is so important to me you don't even understand

[pepperonidk]

baby blues || l.c

pairing: dad!lee chan x mom!reader warnings: reader goes by mom, chan refers to himself as daddy (as a joke) word count: 1321 summary: starting a family is scary, but it's less scary with you by Chan's side

a/n: this is a loose prequel to my last Chan fic, the kids are alright, but can be read as a standalone as well!

main masterlist || taglist

“Are babies supposed to be that small?” Your husband’s hushed voice whispers from beside you. The feeling of his breath against your ear sent a tickle down your spine. You held your breath as the small bundle in your arms shifted and cooed in her sleep.

“Yes,” you breathed out. “It’s crazy isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Chan agreed and pressed a kiss to your temple. “We made that.” He pulled you closer into his side and wiggled a finger against your baby’s fingers. Her hands opened and wrapped around his reflexively.

“Hi Jia,” he cooed. “Nice to meet you.” His voice was strained and you turned to see tears brimming in his eyes. The sight alone was enough to send you to tears yourself but you fought them back to enjoy the moment instead. 

“Jia,” you whispered to her. “Do you want your daddy to hold you?” you looked up to see Chan slightly panic as you shifted to try to move her into his arms.

“No, no,” he dismissed. “You can hold her for now, honey. I read somewhere about a critical period for her to imprint on you.” You chuckled and reminded yourself to ask about where he read that from, but tonight was the first time it was no longer just you and Chan, but a family.

The two of you had been prepping intensely for months, reading every parenting book you could get your hands on, diapering so many watermelons, anything you could do to feel like you would know what to do once the baby came. But nothing could have prepared the two of you for the reality of holding your real life child in your arms.

Or at least you couldn’t. Chan had yet to hold the baby in his arms. He was able to get away with it during the first couple of nights at the hospital because the doctors and nurses had her in and out constantly. But now… the three of you were finally home and Chan had nowhere to hide. 

It didn’t take long for you to notice his hesitation once you were alone. It was pretty obvious as soon as he brought the car carrier down from the car. Rather than setting the car seat down then unbuckling her and taking her out, he brought the carrier all the way to the nursery and set the whole thing in the crib.

“Uh, honey,” you chuckled from the door. “The baby carrier doesn’t go in the crib.”

“Right…” he sighed. He quickly turned to you and shooed you away. “I’ll get her out, just get into bed, you should rest while you can, babe.”

You hummed thoughtfully before you decided to walk into the room and towards a panicked looking Chan. he was dressed in his sweatpants and the same hoodie he’s been in since you went into labor a few days ago. His hair was going every which way and a stress pimple had begun to form at the tip of his nose. He looked ethereal.

He ran a hand through his hair and you could see his cheeks turn pink in embarrassment. “No rest for the wicked?” he joked as you shot him a glare. Rather than reply, you reached down into the crib where Jia was asleep in her carrier. You undid the buckles and carefully pulled her out, careful to place a hand behind her neck to support it. She stirred for just a second before letting out a tiny baby yawn that made your heart do flips. You pulled her close to your chest before turning back to your husband.

“Spill it, Chan,” you coaxed. “Why don’t you want to hold your daughter?” You raised an eyebrow at him as he let out a sigh and sat on the plush armchair beside the crib. You rocked Jia against you quietly as you waited for his answer.

“I’m scared,” he answered sheepishly. 

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Scared?” you echoed back to him. “Honey, you’ve read every book on parenting, you’ve watched all the mom vlogs, and I’m pretty sure you can diaper anything in existence. What are you scared of?”

“She’s real,” he said exasperatedly. “What if I drop her? What if I mess something up and it scars her for the rest of her life and she ends up having daddy issues so she hates men and then she spirals and then–”

“Woah, woah,” you interrupted. “I think you’re spiraling, babe.” You let out a quiet laugh and sat on the armrest beside him.

He looked at the baby who was snoring softly, swaddled tight in your arms. He looked envious of your position and it made your heart ache. “Chan…” you called his name softly. “You’re not going to mess her up, and if you do… thankfully her memory won’t really kick in for a while.”

Chan groaned at your response. “That’s so helpful, babe,” he pouted. “I’m serious.”

“I am too,” you smiled at him. “Babies are tougher than you think, and you are gentler than you think. And you are going to be an amazing father.”

“How do you know?” he asked quietly.

“Because you care so much already,” you replied, leaning down to press against his temple. You stood to return Jia back to her crib before Chan reached up to tug at your shirt. 

“Wait,” he called. “I think I can do this.” He was more confident now.

“Good,” you replied. “My arms are getting tired.” You smiled at him and leaned down to hand Jia over to him. “Just get your arms ready and make sure the back of her neck is supported by your arms,” you instructed.

He did as you told him and she slid into his arms easily. Her brows furrowed for a second as she adjusted before she nuzzled further into Chan’s arms. You heard him sigh in relief. 

“See?” you chimed. “Not bad, right?”

“This is nice,” he agreed with a bright grin. “Now go get some rest for real, babe. Daddy’s here.”

You cringed at his words but nodded anyway. “Alright, ‘daddy,’” you teased with a yawn. “Good night, honey.” You leaned down to give him one last peck on the lips and a kiss on Jia’s temple before heading to your bedroom. You plopped down in the bed and slipped under the covers, reaching over to turn on the baby monitor on your nightstand.

You smiled to yourself as you heard Chan’s soft voice come through the fuzzy speaker.

“Hi baby,” he cooed. You could see over the screen him holding Jia’s hand in his and cooing down at her. “I’m your daddy, or papa, or appa, or whatever you decide to call me. I can’t wait for you to start talking so that you can tell me which you prefer.” 

You chuckled softly at his words. “But for now, I think this is fine,” he continued. “Did you know I was scared of you just 5 minutes ago? I guess that goes to show how badass you are.” He looked up for a second, startled for a second. “Am I allowed to say that?” he asked himself.

“Don’t tell your mom I said that,” he shushed conspiratorially. “You and I are gonna be best friends, and I can’t wait for all our adventures together. I have so much to share with you, but first, I’ll show you a song my mom used to sing to me when I was a baby.”

Chan began singing a soft lullaby, and that was the last thing you remember before you drifted into a deep sleep… which only lasted an hour or two before Jia started crying. “Honey?” you heard Chan call for you over the monitor as well as through the wall. “I think she’s hungry.”

You got up with a small yawn, tired, but excited to take care of the family you had.

taglist: @yksthings @iamxelia @coveyland @xuimhao @sana-is-ms-rmty @gummymintae

[pearlzier]

you look so pitiful right now. you're tucked into your boyfriend's arm, staring blankly at the phone in front of you as you attempt to ignore the aching pains filling your entire body. god, period's fucking sucked. you felt like hell, and even if chris didn't want to make it all about himself—seeing you so distraught made his heart ache in all sorts of dumb ways.

“if i could kick the shit out of your cramps, ma,” he spoke up, careful not to move you, “i would. i'd fuckin’ destroy ‘em.”

a small, faint smile plays on your lips at his words and you subtly shift a little closer, using him as a makeshift heating pad. not like you didn't already have one, but any extra warmth was good. “believe me, you'd have a hard time trying to get past me beating the shit out of them,” your words are lazy, a tiny bit uncomfortable to get out. this only makes chris whine a little more and he nuzzles his head into your shoulder.

“are you sure there's nothing i can do to help? anythin’?” his brows raise, fingers brushing over your arm in a gentle pass. you really can believe you got so lucky to get a guy like this, but you're in a bit too much pain bleeding out for you to uh, register that. “y'know, i heard uh.. a little trade secret, babe.”

you know full well he's gonna say some dumb shit, but you encourage his behaviour almost instantly. “i'm all for it,” you mumble into his arm, brows raising a little.

a little giggle almost instantly slips past his lips and he runs his fingers over your cheek, before he mutters, “period cramps can be relieved in some uh, intimate ways.”

“christopher—” he practically beams as he sees you giggle, and he raises his hands as if to surrender, before he gently shifts you over onto the other side of the bed so he could get up and grab you something to eat from the cabinet.

the man came prepared.

“okay, okay, what d'you want? we got everythin’,” he lifted a packet of chips, eyeing it for a moment before he glanced over at you, “what, as they say, tickles your fancy, huh?” he was such a dork, god. your dork, but still.

your eyes lift to look at the options he has available, and you slowly slink yourself upwards to see them with a little grunt. chris runs a hand through his hair, showing off the food he'd raided from the fridge without matt or nick noticing. “can i..” you frown for a moment, letting the wave of pain pass before you spoke up again, “surprise me, actually, i don't think i have the energy nor brain power to pick.”

“surprise you? gotcha, one sec,” he folded his arms over his chest, blue eyes flickering over the food before he grabbed the little packet of muffins, then grabbed you a drink as well. “these alright? i may be a bit rusty,” a grin plays on his lips, and he shrugs his shoulders.

“nah, you're all good,” you chirp, a smile brightening your face as he very accurately gets your favourite foods correct. “come back, please, i think the cold is seeping back in.”

a self-satisfied smirk tugs at his lips and he makes his way back over, muttering a quick, “too fucking good,” under his breath before he slinks back under the covers beside you, placing the muffins down onto the tray alongside your drink. “comfy?” he asks after a moment, voice a little softer.

“yeah,” you gently place his hand over your tummy to try get some of his warmth before you place your own over the top, sighing gently as you relaxed into his touch. he let his head sit against your shoulder, resting his chin happily.

after a little while, chris notices you fidgeting a little and he gently brings you into his chest and gently grasping at your tummy. “i got you, i got you,” he muttered, plucking your phone from your hands and holding it in one of his so all you had to focus on was holding onto him. laying back against the headboard, he breathes evenly. “just relax. i know it's hard.”

“you're the best, you know that?” you mumbled gently, sighing softly. even when your pain was insane, chris managed keep you relatively sane. your hands slide down to his and you interlace your fingers together, a little smile playing on chris’ lips. “the best.”

“just doin’ what i gotta for my girl,” he shrugs his shoulders gently—”s'no biggie at all.”

☆  𝅄⠀ㅤׂ    also asking who tryna be on the taglist <3

[luvendiary]

3 times hiccup asked you to marry him + the time you realized he meant it

hello! this was an early draft for this request: Hello!!! Imagine hiccup telling reader "I'm in love with you" / "Marry me" out of blue after a stare down (can be established relationship or not muahahaha) I like how this turned out, except for the ending. it's sort of shitty in my opinion. also, this isn't proofread. and sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language. feel free to point them out. also, there’s a slight corpse bride reference with the vows!! as always, thank you for reading. let me know what you think and if you'd like more of this. requests are always open!

1.

Snoggletog was one of your favorite festivities. The beautiful coat of snow that hugged the soil, and the way the sunlight softly reflected on it was perfect to you. You loved to see how vikings busied themselves by hanging up ornaments and mistletoe on the doors. You loved hearing the out-of-tune carols that echoed across Berk. And you loved the late cold nights as you and the dragon riders sat around a warm fire and talked about the day’s happenings.

One thing you did not love though, was the Snoggletog play, specially because it had been assigned to you all this year. It was the dragon riders’ responsibility to plan, organize and act it out the day of Snoggletog.

“What about the start of dragon races?” Snoutlout suggested.

“They did that two years ago,” Astrid replied as she sharpened her axe.

“We could do Loki-”

“We’re not doing Loki day Tuffnut,” Hiccup interrupted him.

A moment of silence passed amongst all of you.

“What if, we make a reenactment of Odin and Freya’s marriage? How they stopped the Aesir and Vanir war,” you said while nibbling on your thumb.

“That could work,” Fishlegs said.

“I like it, we could even get the dragons in on this,” Astrid suggested.

“Of course, brilliant idea (Y/N),” Snotlout said as he stood up with a cocky attitude. “Specially because I would make the perfect Odin.” He flexed his muscles and stroke a victorious pose.

You chuckled and pushed him away, “Sit down Snotlout. I was actually thinking that Astrid and Fishlegs could be Freya and Odin.”

“Oh no,” Astrid said immediately. “I’m not good at performing. Plus, you gave the idea, you should be Freya.”

“Alright,” you said. “If no one else is up for it, I’ll be Freya. Fishlegs, are you ok with being Odin?”

“Ye-” his reply was interrupted by Astrid elbowing him. “I mean, I wish I could but…I-I don’t like performing.”

“What but you love perfor-?”

“Hiccup! Why aren’t you Odin?!” Astrid chimed in as she placed her arm around your shoulder while the other went around the brunette-boy’s shoulders.

“Uh…I-I guess,” Hiccup said.

Astrid grinned while looking at you, “Great! It’s settled then!”

“Why would you do that?!” you shrieked as you pressed the palm of your hands to your eyes.

Astrid, who sat next to you overlooking Berk from a nearby cliff, shrugged, “Oh I don’t know. Maybe because I’m tired of you two beating around the bush. Why don’t you kiss already? It’s obvious you want to.”

“Shut up Astrid,” you said while sitting up. You rubbed your hands together to provide some heat to your body. “I’m not even sure if he likes me.”

“You’re as blind as Gothi is mute,” she replied.

“How can you be so sure? Has he said anything about me?”

“You’re hopeless Y/N.”

The days went by, and Snoggletog drew closer and closer. Right after training, you went to rehearsals, and while most of it went by in fits of laughter and jokes, you all managed to build a production. You often tended to practice with Hiccup, since you had the most line together, and it gave you an excuse to spend more time with him. During this period, you had managed to gain some small victories in the love department, holding his hand, dancing with him, and hearing him laugh while you acted out some of your scenes being some. However, there was something you both had been avoiding: the marriage kiss. It made your heart flutter and your stomach swarm with butterflies every time you though about the possibility of kissing him; on the other hand, it also felt like Gronkle iron swishing around your intestines. What if he didn’t want to kiss you? What if he just did it out of pity?

Your mind was plagued with questions up until the big day.

“Good luck,” Astrid said while she gave you a knowing look. She was looking forward to the kiss, and if what she had told you was true, all of the dragon riders were too.

The play started out good, Snotlout and Tuffnut played the Aesir family, while Ruffnut and Fishlegs played the Vanir.

The scene changed and the Aesir were complaining with Hiccup about how Freya’s magic and her help towards the Vanir was the reason for their shortcomings.

I was then your time to appear. After several attempts from the Aesir to try to kill Freya, you and Odin came to an agreement: you were to marry each other.

“Marry me,” said Hiccup. And as you looked into his eyes your breath hitched. He had a smile plastered on his face, and his eyes gleamed.

“I will marry you,” you replied as you offered him your hand and he put the ring on your nuptial finger.

The scene was supposed to end there, you were about to take a step backwards so that the actual marriage scene could take place, however you felt a hand wrap around your wrist, and before you knew it you were being kissed. You were being kissed by Hiccup Haddock.

Your shock was palpable, however you dissolved into the kiss once the initial incredulity had passed. Once Hiccup felt the kiss was reciprocal, he wrapped his arms around your waist and drew you closer.

2 .

Dragon racing was a hefty sport. Ever since it was created, it became a fan favorite amongst Berkians. Once every full moon, a match was held that was sure to be the talk of the town for at least a week. On summer and winter solstice, you held the dragon riding tournament, that usually lasted for about a week; except for that one time when the black sheep had wondered deep into the woods, and you weren’t able to find it for two days.

Point of the matter is, dragon racing was a serious issue for vikings. And that’s why victories where celebrated so grandly. You never particularly cared for the celebrations, however wining was important to you; your usually carefree nature was irrecognizable when it came to the sport as you became a furiously competitive rider. This change, spared no one. Not even your boyfriend.

“Incoming!” you called out before snatching the black sheep from Hiccup’s arms, as you held on with your legs to (Y/D)’s saddle while she flew in an upside down position.

“Hey!” he shouted in response with a light chuckle.

“I wish I could say I’m sorry, but I’m not!” you replied with a shit-eating grin directed his way. With the black sheep secure in your arms, you flew away, not a hint of remorse visible on your face.

You returned to your upright position and quickly flew up to your basket and threw in the black sheep. As soon as you do so, you hear the crowds cheers and applause mixed with the blow of the horn, signaling that the match has ended.

Astrid joined you on the platform, followed by Ruff, as they cheered you on and celebrated your team victory.

Hiccup watched you, still mounted on Toothless with a lovesick smile present in his features, “I’m going to marry her,” he said as he took in your beautiful smile.

“I don’t think you’re her type,” said a voice next to him. Tuffnutt flew next to him with a pissed expression -probably because of their defeat- “but go for it. I’m sure my sister would be flattered.”

3 .

“Do you think there are other people out there?” you asked as you stared blankly at the stars. “I mean, besides us dragon riders and dragon hunters. Do you think that maybe there’s another civilization that has been familiar with dragons long before us?”

You heard Hiccup chuckle, “Possibly, maybe they even know of species we have yet to discover.”

“I wonder if they maybe think the same of us. Maybe we’re some strange advanced civilization to them”, you said with a light giggle as your thoughts went wild with the idea of the unknown. “Or maybe, we’re cavemen in comparison to their civilization. Maybe…they know about our existence, and they have just decided to leave us alone because we’re not worth their time.”

“That’s a bit depressing isn’t it?” Hiccup asked, humored by your rambling.

“I don’t think so. I think it’s exciting…” you said slightly breathless as you stared at the vast abyss of twinkling lights that spread above you and beyond. “Just imagine everything we’ve yet to discover.”

You faintly heard the huffs and growls of your dragons, who were entertained by Hiccup’s prosthetic leg as they fought each other for it.

Hiccup allowed himself to steal a glance at you for a fraction of a second. He thought that the view in front of you was beautiful, but to him, the real wonder was sitting right next to him. You looked breathtaking with the starry abyss reflected in your eyes. Yet, you were so unaware of it.

“Marry me.”

He didn’t mean to actually say it. But he just couldn’t control himself when he was with you.

Your trance was broken and you stared at him wide eyed, in disbelief at what he had just said. However as soon as you saw his expression mirroring yours, you burst out laughing. You couldn’t say truthfully that you had never though about marriage, especially with Hiccup.

Hiccup’s startled expression morphed into confusion.”W-What? Why are you laughing?”

“Are you sure you want to marry me?” you asked in between giggles. “You don’t seem very sure.”

“What? Y-Yes! Of course I’m sure! Why wouldn’t I want to marry you?” his eyebrows furrowed in the way you loved. The way that told you you had successfully managed to get in his head. He had turned his body so that it was now mirroring yours, and his shoulders were raising up and down as they usually did when he was trying to explain something or defend a point.

“Fine then. I’ll marry you.”

His rambling stopped immediately. “What? Y-You will?”

You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “Sure. Why not?”

You stood up then as you walked around the small island you had stumbled upon earlier that day. Leaving a very flustered and confused Hiccup behind.

“Wait! Where are you going?” he called after you as he struggled to get up. He rambled on as he chased you, asking about arrangements and other things.

“Aha!” you said victoriously as you crouched down over a patch of grass with some wildflowers sprouting out.

Hiccup peered over your shoulder, trying to see what you were doing.

Eventually you stood up and extended your hand towards him. He stared at you blankly for a moment, and muttered to himself, tryin to understand your actions. Still, an amused smile was present on his face.

“Well?” you said after a bit. “Give me your hand.”

He did as you instructed, and then you took out your other hand from behind, which gently held a blade of grass along with some small wildflowers intertwined with each other, forming a ring.

“I know it’s not the best craftsmanship, but I figured we couldn’t get married without rings,” you explained with a soft giggle.

Hiccup grinned down at you, and laughed incredulously. He wondered how he ever got you to agree to be his. “I’m afraid to tell you dearest, but I don’t have a ring for you.”

You sighed mockingly and rolled your eyes. “I know that. I assumed you would be too in your head about your future duty as chief and the dragons to think about me.”

“Hey!” he protested immediately. “I’m always thinking about you-”

“But worry not!” you said as you giggled playfully. “Since I know you well enough to be married, I know you well enough to be prepared for our wedding.” You reached into one of your pockets and puled out and identical ring, which he gently grabbed.

He stared down at you, with a skeptical expression.

“Well, go on with it. Do you want to marry me or not?” you asked as you tilted your head slightly to the side.

Hiccup sighed and then locked his eyes with yours. “I, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock, the Third, make this oath. With this hand I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine."

Once the traditional vows were finished he gently took your hand and slid the delicate ring onto your nuptial finger.

You watched with a smile as he carefully placed it, and once he was done, you repeated the vows and slid his ring onto his own finger.

With your ceremony done, your lips met in a gentle and warm dance. You felt as his hands slid down your back and rested on your hips, holding your body closer to his.

“This is the second time we’ve been married now,” he whispered as he broke apart form the kiss,

“How scandalous,” you whispered back with a soft laugh, as you remembered the Snoggletog performance and how it ended up with your first kiss.

“Maybe the next time we get to do it, you’ll actually be wearing white.”

You stared up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Is that so? Does that mean you’d like to bed me next time?” you teased.

“I’d love to bed you now,” he said with a slight chuckle. “But I’m aware you’d rather follow the traditional path.”

You laughed and patted his chest. “Well, you’ll better get me that white dress quickly then.”

4.

Hiccup had been acting weird all day. Evading you and whenever you managed to track him down he responded any question you had in a dismissive manner. You had figured you should let him alone for a while, at least until he was ready to talk about whatever was bothering him.

He did tend to get too into his own head whenever he was worried, and it took you telling him about it for him to realize he could share his burden with you. But this time it was different.

When you had asked what was bothering him he dismissed you as soon as he could and continued what he was doing.

It had hurt you. It made you think if you had done anything wrong, but you couldn’t think of anything. It was scary thinking about what this could mean for the both of you.

“And you’re sure he hasn’t ever acted like this before?” Astrid asked as she tried to make sense of the situation with you.

You where both sat in the Great Hall, as the rest of the vikings ate their dinner. You however, couldn’t seem to make anything go down past your throat, as worry consumed you.

“Yes Astrid, I am sure,” you replied rather harshly. “I don’t even know where the hell he is right now. For all I know he’s probably off in another girl’s house. Maybe he got tired of waiting for me. Maybe he realized he doesn’t want this sort of commitment…”

You knew that this was irrational thinking. Hiccup had never given you signs that he didn’t want to be with you anymore, on the contrary, he was always very reassuring on how much he liked being with you. Up until now you had never had any reason to doubt your relationship; but up until now, Hiccup had never behaved like this either.

“Don’t say that! That boy is crazy for you. He has been since we where thirteen.”

You sighed and buried your hands in your hair. “Then why is he acting like this?!”

“I think you should ask him yourself,” Astrid said as she placed a comforting hand on her friend’s back.

“I’ve already tried that…” you groaned out. Your voice muffled by your arms, on which you were resting your head.

“Give it one more try. Maybe he’ll snap out of it.”

Reluctantly, you agreed and made your way up to the watch tower. It was Hiccup’s turn to keep watch tonight, so you knew he wouldn’t be able to escape this time.

You felt the heat of the fire before you saw it, and you knew he was there.

“You need to cut the crap Haddock,” you started as you saw the faint outline of his shadow as you were nearing the end of the stairs. “If I did something wrong, just tell me right now because I can’t keep doing this. We’re not teenagers anymo-”

Your throat closed up as soon as you saw him. A gasp escaped your mouth and your hands flew to your face.

In front of you, Hiccup was down on one knee and a small wooden box sat comfortably on the palm of his hand.

“You bastard,” you whispered just to yourself.

He chuckled at that and smiled as he saw your reaction. He then opened the box to reveal a small silver ring in the shape of some intricate patterns.

“My dearest Y/N…” he started, but the lump in his throat wouldn’t let him go any further.

“Oh Hiccup…” you breathed out as you approached him slowly.

“Please marry me,” he said finally.

You crouched in front of him with tears in your eyes and held his face in your hands.

“Of course I will marry you,” you replied as a teary laugh escaped your throat.

To him, it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

He laughed then, as he slid the ring in, and looked up at you. He cupped your cheeks with the palm of his hand and pulled you closer until your lips met. He tasted tears and relief in that kiss.

You eventually separated and you hit his chest lightly.

“Don’t ever do that to me again you bastard!” you said as the tears flowed, and you whipped them off as nervous laughter escaped your lips.

“I swear this is the last time love,” he chuckled as he crouched his head slightly to help you whipe your tears.

“Not that! Don’t ever avoid me like that again Hiccup! I was starting to think that maybe you didn’t want me anymore…”

Hiccup grabbed your chin gently and made you look up at him. “Theres no one else I’d rather want.”

You laughed nervously once again and offered him a teary smile.

“I’m sorry I scarred you love. I just…I was so nervous.”

“It’s ok…” you reassured him. “I understand.”

He smiled down at you and whipped another tear. You didn’t mean to keep doing it, but you had been so worried all day long that it was finally coming out. You didn’t want to ruin your moment like this. It was supposed to be a moment for celebration and happiness. You tried to make it stop.

“You can cry. I will lift your sorrows,” Hiccup said with a soft laugh as he whipped another tear.

You smiled then, tears still flowing out. But you knew it would be alright. He would make you feel alright. He always did.

[bearieio]

total perv...

(könig edition)

warnings: praise kink, panty stealing & sniffing, sorta possessive!könig, shibari, kinda needy/sub(?)!könig, reader teasing könig & vice versa, könig spoiling you

a/n: ugh ignore my poor german…… i have NOT been studying… BUT ANYWAYS...

pervy!older bf!könig who simply can’t shut up about how beautiful your body is and how he’s the only one who gets to see you when its totally ruined for him.

“meins… alles meins..” the way he compliments your every crack and crevice located on (and in) your body, calling you a “pretty baby,” every 3 minutes

pervy!older bf!könig who always has a pair of your panties in his possession. in his glove compartment, in his duffel bag when he goes to the gym, and in the lower pocket of his cargo pants. he takes a pair everywhere. 

pervy!older bf!könig who can’t help but stare at what is his. when you’re changing or getting undressed with the door cracked open, when you’re getting out of the shower, or even when you’re just sitting on the couch in your pjs. 

you’ll be changing your clothes before bed and see a pair of BLUE ORBS staring at you from the hallway, just gazing over every part of your body. 

pervy!older bf!könig who can’t keep his hands out of his pants when you’re away. 

he’ll be at home, on the couch, staring at pics of you on his phone, palming himself under his sweatpants at the thought of your mouth on him.

pervy!older bf!könig who can’t stop himself from looking at your tits whenever you’re looking directly up at him… resisting the urge to grope them right then and there..

pervy!older bf!könig who won’t hesitate to bend you over his desk and pound into you relentlessly if you just so happen to get a little snippy with him.

“want to say that again, liebling? huh? no?” he whispers in your ear, holding you by your neck, holding your small frame up against his much larger one, your hands barely being able to touch his desk below you. “oh… what happened to that little attitude you had moments ago, hm?”

pervy!older bf!könig who loves to have you bound and tied up, like a sort of present… just for him. (ugh shibari is so interesting)

he ties you up in hogties in order to tease and edge you for long periods of time.. loonngg periods of time. no matter how bratty you may or may not have been acting that day he’s definitely taken the time to practice different ties and knots with you, especially when they more elaborate ones that have you suspended in the air n stuff. “du musst fokus, liebling! here, give me your leg-”

pervy!older bf!könig who gets soooooo desperate for you when he finds his way into your pants. panting and practically drooling when you present yourself to him. 

“be a good girl and let me taste you, huh? schatz?” he’d go INSANE if you kept denying his requests. he’d get all needy, his hands inching closer and closer to the elastic hem of your laced panties “nuh-uh-uh!” you’d chime in, seconds before his hands find their way inside. he’d groan and beg s’more… and the process repeats until finally you give in and let him touch & taste you.

pervy!older bf!könig who teases you about both your height difference and age difference. calling you his “little bunny,” and “kleine maus,” and often pretending to use you as an arm rest. 

“how’s-uh- ....how’s the weather down there, hase?” he says, placing his arm on your head, leaning into you slightly. when you start to move from your position, he’s caught off-guard and almost falls over. 

pervy!older bf!könig who tells shows you how much he loves you by spoiling you ROTTEN! buying you plushies, clothes, new trinkets and gadgets to place around your guys’ bedroom.

he somehow always has a present for you. and at the PERFECT moments too needed a new phone because your old one was outdated/broken? BOOM he already has a new one waiting you when you get home. he definitely buys you CASES and CASES of those sonny angels and those smiski glow in the dark figures in order to show his appreciation towards you :)

masterlist

[monzabee]

sunday blues – ms47 (+18)

masterlist || part 1 || part 2 ||

Summary: The one where Mick helps you the best way he knows when you’re feeling insecure.

Pairing: mick schumacher x vettel!reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: angst, crying, cursing, fluff, insecurities and self-depreciating thoughts, smut, unprotected sex (wrap your willy, don’t be silly!), google translate german, praise words, minors dni!!

Request: “Hello! I am so obsessed with your recent fic with Mick and Seb's daughter, so I was wondering if you could write something where she is feeling very insecure and stressed and he just kind of helps her through her feelings, maybe something smutty to show her how much he lovers her body or something?👀”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! this request has been sitting in my inbox for longer than i’d like to admit, but i’m so happy i got it done! it’s been a while since i wrote smut so if it doesn’t make sense i sincerely apologise, but as always thank you to the anon for the request and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Mick didn’t expect to find you the way he did when he was leaving your flat to take Angie on her morning walk, he really didn’t – because when he was leaving this morning, after having kissed you goodbye while you were still asleep, everything seemed fine. And although he is not the one to stress in these type of situations, his mind automatically goes to the worst possible scenario when he comes home to you crying on your couch in your bathrobe. So he does the expected, he asks whether you hurt yourself – the answer is no. Did something happen to anyone from your family? Nu-uh. Is it social media related? Nope. Did someone physically did something to you? No Mick, you locked the door before you left the house.

Every possible question that comes to his mind being met with a negative answer from you has him perplexed to say the very least, so he takes a seat next to you and offers what he’s sure will put you in a better mood; cuddles. With you in his arms and Angie on your lap, you do feel better, but he makes sure to ask any other possible option that comes to his mind.

“Did you try to bake cookies again?” His voice wanders off, his fingers running through the ends of your braid.

You lightly punch his arm, and then return your attention back to petting Angie as you pout and mumble out, “My cookies were not burnt, they were lightly toasted.”

He lets out a sigh, and after pressing numerous kisses to your hair to coax you, he gently raises your chin up for you to meet his eyes. “I give up, please just tell me what’s bothering you, hase.”

There’s a fresh wave of tears accumulating in your eyes, threatening to fall down your cheeks, and it absolutely makes his heart clench. You lightly push yourself out of his arms, careful not to disturb the dog sprawled on both of you guys’ lap, “Nothing, you’ll think it’s stupid.”

“No I won’t,” he promises, fighting you in order to gather you back into his arms, but you’re not above fighting dirty – meaning using your nails to keep him away. “Are–” He takes a moment to pause and clear his throat, “Are you on your period?”

Mick watches as your lips part and a sound of indignation break free from the back of your throat. Without bothering Angie too much, you turn in your place to swat at his chest as you hiss, “You are an ass, Mick.”

“Bu– I didn’t mean –” He scrambles to get out, but you’re already walking towards your bathroom, and all he can do is watch you walk away from him. This time, his eyes meet Angie’s, and he can swear his dog is giving him the biggest side-eye known to mankind, but he can only breath out a, “I messed that one up big time, didn’t I?”

Angie gets up from his lap to walk towards the bedroom. Mick soon follows closely behind towards the bathroom.

You can hear his knocks and a faint Can I come in?, through the closed bathroom door, but as you try to tame the mess that is your hair, you call out to him, “No!” And because Mick is a gentleman, and arguably the best boyfriend in the universe, he actually waits outside the bathroom. Eventually, though, you feel bad making him wait outside by the door and with a final glance in the mirror, you stomp a few steps and push the bathroom door open, revealing Mick's concerned face.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, but before he can continue with the rest of his sentence, you cut him off with yet another swat of your hand to his chest and another fresh wave of tears.

“I am not, and I repeat – not, on my period.” With a final hit to his chest, you walk back to your previous spot in front of the sink and try to brush the knots in your hair.

Wincing at the way you’re aggressively dragging the brush through your hair, Mick walks towards you to stand behind you at the sink and gently takes the brush out of your hand. “Here, let me do it.” And though you don’t want to admit, he’s gentle yet successful as he brushes your hair out for you. With his eyes occasionally drifting to watch you over the bathroom mirror, he dutifully manages to finish brushing your hair, and soon after you are back in his arms as he wraps them around your middle. “Now, are you going to tell me what’s been bothering you?”

You shake your head with another sniffle, “It’s not important.”

“Hase, please,” he practically begs as his attention is drawn to your puffy eyes, “it is important if you’re still crying over it.”

With a guilty look on your face and an apprehensive voice that absolutely breaks his heart, you mumble, “You really want to know?” This time it is you who is meeting his eyes through the mirror to see him nod sheepishly, and as you occupy yourself with his fingers you find yourself mumbling again, “My, uh, my boobs are too small.”

“Your what, is what?” Mick stammers in surprise, blinking at the unexpected confession. His expression shifts from confusion to realization, and his fingers tangle themselves with yours. “Hase, are you serious?”

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, embarrassed by your own admission. “Yes, and don’t call me that.”

“What?” With more confusion he stammers out, “I– I thought you liked it, it’s cute.”

He watches you let out a soft whimper, and then throw your head back against his chest in frustration. After sniffling and, yet, another fresh wave of tears, which Mick quickly wipes away as he keeps his gaze locked to yours, “I’m not supposed to be cute.”

“Oh?” he asks, “And what are you supposed to be, then?”

“I don’t know!” The sudden sob breaking out from the back of your throat has his eyes widening in surprise, and also concern – but for the first time that morning, you seem to be talking about what’s been wrong, so he has no intention to interrupt you. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be anymore! I can’t be too perfect or too flawed, too confident or too uncertain; people have opinions and they are not afraid to voice them, so I end up feeling not enough for the majority of time.” Mick’s hold tightens around as you let out a particularly violent sob, “And my boyfriend has bigger boobs than me!”

Mick's eyes widen in both surprise and disbelief as your last sentence tumbles out, and for a moment, there's a pause in the air as he processes your words. “So you’re sad, because you think your boobs are not big enough?”

“Well yeah,” you mumble, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious under his gaze. “I told you you’d think it’s stupid.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Mick announces, “everybody gets insecure sometimes; what I don’t understand is why on earth you would compare yourself like that.” Mick's fingers gently wipe away a tear from your cheek, and he turns you towards himself to lift your chin up, “You’re perfect the way you are, hase.”

You let out a shaky breath, his words slowly starting to sink in. “I just don’t want to feel like this all the time.”

“I know, darling,” he coos and then offers you a gentle smile, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your cheek. “You’re perfect, you hear me? My perfect girl, hm?” He ignores a whiny objection in the form of you dragging out his name. “The kindest,” he leans in towards you, “and the smartest,” then presses his lips against your forehead, “the most beautiful girl inside and out.”

“Micki,” his names comes off from your lips in a whispery sigh, your head turning sideways as his nose nudges your jaw. His warm breath tickles your skin as he continues to nuzzle against your jaw, his lips brushing over your skin in gentle, feather-light kisses. His lips stretch when you let out a soft giggle, “It tickles.”

Mick's lips curve into a playful smile against your jaw, and he continues to pepper your skin with those feather-light kisses, this time intentionally causing a cascade of giggles from you. His touch is tender, his affection evident in each sweet gesture.

“It does, doesn't it?” he murmurs, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he moves his kisses to your cheek.

You squirm slightly in his embrace, the ticklish sensation mixed with delight. “Baby, stop,” you manage to say between giggles, even as your fingers find their way to his sides, retaliating with a gentle poke.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” With a final loving peck to your cheek, Mick relents and holds you closer to himself as your giggles slowly subside. As your giggles subside, Mick tilts his head slightly to meet your gaze. His eyes, still filled with tenderness, lock onto yours, and he brushes a few strands of hair away from your face. “Feeling better?” he asks softly.

After taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself, you give him a tight lipped smile. “I’ll be fine, Micki, I promise.” Ignoring the look he gives you, which tells you that he doesn’t believe a word you say, you reach up to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for being here, you know?”

“Of course, hase,” he mumbles in thought, the material of your robe feeling soft under his touch as he lets the cogs turn in his head. With his eyebrows furrowing, he grabs you by the waist and raises you up to sit you on the bathroom counter. “On the second hand, I think I need to show you just how much I appreciate you, hm?” Ignoring yet another objecting sound from your lips, he places a kiss on the juncture of where your jaw meets your neck, and moves his kisses down until he’s met with your robe again. With a playful glint in his eyes, he lets his fingers work the knot of your robe’s belt.

His eyes widen as his brain registers the fact that you are not wearing anything underneath the robe, and you reply to his flabbergasted look with an innocent shrug of your shoulders as you give him the excuse, “I was about to take a shower before I… well, had a moment.”

You watch as a string of expletives leave his lips, and he needs to take a moment to recover as he mumbles, “Guter Gott.” Though, as your breathy giggles bring him back to the present, he pushes your robe off your shoulders in a quick move, and you realise there is a much darker look in his eyes when your eyes meet again, “And you think my girls are not enough.”

Before you can answer, his hands are quick to grab your breasts as he gives them a firm squeeze, causing you to forget whatever clever comeback you had and instead let out a shallow exhale. “They’re small,” you complain, but he is quick to shut you down by pinching your left nipple between his two fingers – not enough to make it actually hurt, but enough to shock you into shutting up and letting out a small yelp instead.

“Stop talking,” the sharper undertone of his voice has you biting the corner of your bottom lip in anticipation, but his eyes soften as he looks at the bewildered look on your face. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he fixes you with his stare as his hands go back to gently handling your breasts, “I’m going to fuck you in front of this mirror so that you can see just how beautiful you are, and you’re not going to say a word unless it’s a moan or telling me to stop.”

With a slacked jaw you stare at your boyfriend, your sweet Mick who is soft and treats you as if you’re a china doll most of the time. But now, he looks at you with a stern look in his eyes, and the fact that they are a few shades darker than their normally baby-blue colour tells you that he means business. “Can you kiss me first?” Your voice is breathy, because everything about Mick makes it harder to breath harder, and the corner of his mouth rise in a small smirk as his brain registers the desperation in your voice. “Please.”

“How can I not when my pretty girl is being so well-mannered?” He watches as you straighten up in your place, which causes you to come closer to his face and he lets out a low chuckle. “Patience, baby,” he moves his hands to cup your face and his thumbs gently caress the tops your cheeks. He teases you by dipping his head until his lips are touching yours, and he lets out another chuckle when you chase his lips when he slightly pulls away. But deciding to alleviate you from your pain, he finally presses his lips against yours – though his kiss is nothing like his soft touch from mere moments ago.

His tongue explores your mouth as if he hasn’t kissed you a million times before, but his kiss is as bruising as they come. He draws all kinds of noises from you, with a single kiss, and it would be concerning how much you lose yourself in him if it wasn’t too good. You manage to nip at his lower lip just as he is starting to pull away.

“Gut sein,” he mumbles, the small (but accomplished) smile on your lips bringing a smile to his own. “Now, what do you say to me for the kiss, hm?”

Be good, he says – you can totally do that. His lips move down to your jaw to then your neck, and your lips form a perfect ‘O’ when he starts nipping and sucking on your skin. “Thank you for the kiss, Micki,” you mumble breathily, your hands grabbing his forearms to move his hands from your face back onto your breasts. He lets an appreciative hum as his hands go back to fondling the skin under his hands, which elicits a louder moan from your lips, “Oh, that feels good.”

Mick’s reply comes in the form of another hum as he keeps on sucking hickeys, which will undoubtedly make you complain to him tomorrow, but the way he handles you is enough to convince you not to care. After he’s satisfied with handiwork; he pulls back from your neck to only dip his head more to take one of your nipples to his mouth while his hand is busy groping the other breast, causing you to weave your fingers through his hair to press him closer to your chest. His ministrations, combined with his intention of marking up your chest as he did your neck has you ending up as a whimpering mess on the bathroom counter, calling out Mick’s name to do something more in hopes of him keeping his promise. His voice is husky as he asks, “Now do you believe me?”

Your hands are on him the second he pulls away and his breathing is a mess while you scramble to get off his shirt; your hands gliding across his chest down to the start of his running shorts he has from his morning run, and he has to restrain himself from letting out a groan as you sit in front of him with wide eyes and lips that are pink from all the biting. You voice is also husky as you answer his question with one of your own, “Are you going to fuck me now, liebste?”

He smiles sweetly at your attempt of trying to take back the reigns, and he tries to appear in though as he slowly pulls you off the counter. “In a second, I have to check something first.” He quickly turns you around to face the mirror, where you watch his hand’s movements as it slides from your waist down to the front of your sleeping shorts. The gasp that leaves from between your lips causes his sweet smile to morph into something more mischievous, and you catch his smirk on the mirror in front of you as he lets his fingers feel the wetness between your legs. “You’re soaked, hase, I think you’re more than ready.”

“Yes, please,” your voice comes off in a whimper as you slip your hand behind you to palm the bulge that presses onto your back through the material of his shorts that hang lower on his hips. You let out another moan when his fingers make their way towards your clit, which is his way of reminding you of who’s in charge – and it’s most definitely not you given the fact that you almost topple over the counter when he presses his fingers with slightly more pressure. You hear him let out a low groan when you move your hand slightly, but his fingers continue their movements which causes you to let out small mews of pleasure.

After he pulls his fingers out of your short, and consequently makes a show of licking them clean that leaves you quite literally panting with need. Smirking at your reaction, he taps the outside of your upper thigh, “Spread your legs, baby, watch me on the mirror, hm?” He makes sure to place your hands on the countertop after he’s done taking of the remainder of your clothing and underwear. A part of you is sure he’s secretly enjoying the attention and how good you’re being as you silently watch him ges out of his own shorts and underwear. “You ready?”

“Mhm-hm,” you mumble as you nod quickly and gather your hair on one of your shoulders.

Mick presses his lips on your bare shoulder as he grabs your waist with one of his hands, grabs the base of his cock with his free hand and guides it between your legs – a gasp leaves your lips as the tip of his cock presses into you. He’s slow as he guides the rest of his cock into your pussy, and you drag out his name under your breath. “So good,” he murmurs as his hand joins his other one on your hip, and he tries to keep his hips still to give you an opportunity to get used to it, “always feel so good for me.”

Your hands grab the marble tighter as the stretch has you wanting to just press your hips backwards against his, “Move, Micki, please.”

He meets your eyes through the mirror and chuckles lowly, “Patience, baby,” he repeats his words from before – but he obliges you nonetheless, as he pushes in all the way in a move that knocks all the breath out of your lungs. He is slow as he starts moving his hips in a steady rhythm. But soon he picks up the rhythm, and every snap of his hips to yours has you becoming more and more of a whimpering mess. His eyes capture your blush that is painting your cheeks and he lets his eyes wander lower where it has started to move towards your chest, which he’s more than welcome to adore the view of your breasts moving with every move his hips makes.

The moans that rip from the back of your throat become louder, stronger and more demanding as Mick decides to thrust himself deeper into you – a sweet reminder that you’ll definitely be feeling him for the rest of the day and all of tomorrow. You can’t seem to form sentences with words other than more, please and various forms of his name, but he grants you what you want when one of your hands leave the counter to pull him in for a kiss. It’s messy and rushed, but it leaves you lightheaded as you find yourself begging for more when he pulls away. “No, no, I want more,” a high-pitched whine begs, and you drag out the next word, “please.”

Mick lowers his head enough for his lips to be level with your ear. “Look into the mirror, hase,” his breath hits your skin, and he rewards you with a sweet smile, “you see what I see?”

“I don’t see you giving me another kiss,” you grumble, but quickly stop rebutting when his hips deliver a rather sharp push, “fuck, that feels good.”  

“Look how beautiful you look,” he pants, his laboured breath hitting your ear, “the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” You’re sure your skin will be bruised from the way his fingers grabs onto your hips – not that it would look out of place with other parts of your body he’s already marked you on. “And you say you’re not enough, God, hase.”

Your hand snakes its way from his neck towards his hair as your fingers thread through his locks. “I need more, Micki, please.”

But unfortunately for you, Mick has every intention of  ignoring your pleas. “Do you know why I call you hase?” Between the haze of him fucking you into the counter and his breathy words, you manage to give him a weak shake of your head. “It’s because I love seeing your tits when you’re bouncing on my cock.” To accentuate his point, he holds your hips in place as he delivers sharper thrusts.

“I thought it was because of the way I scrunch my nose,” you gasp while pulling at his hair. Though it is not exactly the part he chooses to focus on – instead, he watches as your already blushed cheeks become a deeper shade. Another gasp, this time laced with a louder moan, is ripped from you when he continues the sharper movement of his hips, “I– Mick, right there!”

“Shh, I got you,” he soothes your moans as he stills the movement of his hips for a minute to hike your left leg to rest it on the counter and then grabs the hand you have raised up to do the same, “hang on for me, okay?” He watches as you give him a tentative look through the mirror as he wraps his arm across your middle to reach for your clit as he harshly pushes himself back into you.

Combined with his thumb applying pressure onto your clit and the way he’s filling you up once again causes you to moan his name louder than before. “I’m not going to last,” the whiny words leave your lips before you can stop them, and he gives you a smirk as his fingers quicken their pace, “fuck, Micki, just like that.”

Lost in the pleasure building up in your lower stomach, you don’t realise his free hand moving up to cup your breast until he’s pinching your nipple between his fingers to draw out another moan from your lips, which sounds more like a scream because of all the please you’re feeling. “Do you see how beautiful you are? Look at yourself, baby.”

“Please Mick,” you let out a moan meddled with a sob as you watch your reflection in the mirror – the way your body is shaking with every movement of his hips and the way his front is pressed into your back, the disheveled look of your sweaty hair, and the way your wide eyes accompany your blushed cheeks, “make me come, please, I’m so close.” Your words must’ve acted as a source of motivation, since he quickens the pace of his hips and presses his thumb more as he continues the steady movements, which has you chanting out nothing but praises and a string of yes, yes, yes, yes.

Regardless of the condom he’s wearing, Mick can tell when you’re close as you clench around him, and he urges you to let go by mumbling into your skin, “It’s okay, hase, let it go.” And who are you to not give your boyfriend what he asks of you? So he’s there to guide you through your release while you sink your nails into his biceps to still yourself. He’s not far as he reaches his own peak and spills into you, which pulls yet another moan from you as you also hear his loud groan – a sound you’ll never get sick of hearing. You gasp lightly when he eventually pulls out of you; though when he sees the tired smile you give through the mirror (and yes, maybe he does call you hase because you do scrunch your nose while smiling), he responds with one of his own as he presses small kisses to your hairline, “There’s my smile.”

“I love you,” your raspy voice whispers, and suddenly you’re lost once again in the way he’s looking at you – a habit you’ll gladly keep.

“I love you too,” he responds, his nose nuzzling your jaw before giving you a sweet kiss, and it makes him chuckle lightly when you’re chasing his lips once again when he pulls away. “Come on, now we both need a shower.” The sounds of your giggles when he picks you up to get both of you into the shower, and as you hid your face in the crook of his neck you hear him mumble, “Mein hübsches mädchen.” My pretty girl.

[lov1ngreid]

BOYS LIKE YOU | 3

(pairings): high school!spencer + cheerleader!reader

(warnings): mentions of blood

(word count): 3.2k

(author’s note): this chapter’s a little short but i wanted to have something out for you guys! the next chapter will be the last (thank god) also not proofread so bare with me, but merry christmas!

listen to what i did when i wrote this! ➘

“A practice date?” Gianna spits, confusion painting her pretty tanned face while she shoves her fork into whatever cafeteria food was served that day “come. on.” she groans only to shoot another displeased look in your direction, you only decide look up at her from your textbook when she began to get just a little too loud. Silencing her with your eyes, she only rolls hers in response before moving her attention back to her food.

“I didn’t know what to say!” you whisper-yell scanning your surroundings quickly to make sure nobody other than her could hear your conversation, she quickly raises one eyebrow, completely unsatisfied with your answer “and you can’t talk” you shoot back at her raising your right hand to point your gel pen at her face.

“you’re the one who called her over in the first place! I was just gonna let him wander around until he got to nervous and gave up” quickly, you take an opportunity to glance down the end of the cafeteria table where Sadie sat, completely indulged in her own conversation.

Gianna purses her lips thinking, before deciding to hold her hands up in defence “to be honest I kinda wanted to see your reaction” she chuckles to herself for a moment earning a slap to the wrist from you, you shake your head for a moment, absolutely not impressed by her answer.

You both sit in comfortable silence for a moment, your pen quickly jotting down notes from your history textbook while your cold cafeteria lunch sat beside you “If you’re not gonna eat it can I?” Gianna asks already grabbing your red tray from your side before you could answer, she knew your answer before you said it.

Nodding quickly before turning your attention back to your notes, the cafeteria chatter fills your ears causing you to zone into your notes “uh oh” you hear Gianna’s half full mouth admit pulling your attention from your notes onto her. Eyes wide, her stare is set down the left side of the long cafeteria table and you can’t help but follow her gaze down the rows of blue and white cheerleading uniforms before they land on one in particular.

Sadie Keller, her dark cherry red hair and perfect manicured nails, perfect manicured nails that happened to be in someone’s hair.

Spencer Reid’s hair.

You felt like your eyes were quite literally bludging out of your head from how hard you were staring, Sadie sat next to him giggling as she raked her hands through his pretty brown hair, dragging them down his arms while they chatted to other girls on the team.

“He’s cute right” Ivy leans into you, her eyes also glued on the two at the end of the table “I didn’t even know he went here” she adds tilting her head a little causing her long blonde ponytail to tilt with her.

“You called him a freak nerd last period” Gianna mentions from across the table “to his face” she adds a disgusted look filling her face as she waited for Ivy’s response.

“Oh” she deadpans looking between Gianna and then Spencer again “was that him?” She asks obliviously cocking her head once more, Gianna nods her head in response “oh well he’s cute” she shrugs completely unaware of her insensitivity while she goes back to whatever conversation she was indulging in prior.

You felt every emotion bubble in the pit of your stomach, you had to look away before you screamed in her face. The worst part was you couldn’t even blame Sadie, Spencer was cute and funny, and incredibly smart, and if you knew he was Sadie’s tutor maybe you’d make up some sort of terrible lie about him so she wouldn’t like him. Which in hindsight would be horrible of you, but maybe it would’ve prevented having to see such a disgusting scene play out in front of you.

Although every possible emotion swirled inside of you, you didn’t know which one would win until you felt your eyes stinging a little while they brimmed with soft salty tears, mortified you were about to cry in front of the whole cheer team you slammed your books shut earning a few looks from your peers around you, gathering them to your chest before rushing from the cafeteria to the quiet unoccupied hallway.

Small sniffles followed your footsteps as you turned the corner to find your locker clicking it open angrily sliding your books into their respective spots. Pathetic was the only word you could describe yourself in that moment, standing at your locker alone, crying over a boy who had absolutely no interest in you.

The silence in the hallway is calming, only the distance sound of cafeteria chatter and quiet squeaky footsteps from a passerby.

“Hi” a male voice chirps snapping you from your Spencer induced brain fog, almost knocking the wind from you in shock.

“Oh my god- you scared me” you breath grasping your chest a little, your eyes widen at your state, turning away from him a little to quickly wipe the tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“I’m sorry” he laughs a little, his brows furrowing as you turn around “I just wanted to ask if we were still practice dating tonight?” a concerned look painted across his face as you turned back, he noticed your eyes immediately.

Arguably his favourite thing about you.

“Are you okay?” He questions noticing your nose red from rubbing it, and the small sniffles escaping while he talked, he could tell you were crying, he just didn’t know why.

“I’m fine” you mumble moving your books around not daring to make eye contact with him, instead facing your locker while you conversed “And we might have to reschedule, I’m really busy-” you continue.

“Please?” he whispers, eyes widening under his glasses leaning in a little closer in attempts for you to look at him, your actions freeze at his words huffing in defeat, you turn to face him for a moment.

Only then he got a clear view of your face, your pretty eyes covered with a thin layer of glassy tears that were on the brink of falling he could almost see his reflection in them, your long thick eyelashes darkened with your tears “Fine” you nod, your eyes dropping down to avoid his stare, frankly it was making you a little nervous.

It was like your next movements where a calculated blur, grabbing your textbooks before slamming your locker shut to brush past Spencer without another word. Sniffles following as you made your way down the hall, silently cursing yourself out on the way to your next class.

You didn’t know why seeing him with someone else had worked you up so much, and you couldn’t wrap your head around it. You knew he didn’t like you, if you hadn’t been so desperate to hang out with him you wouldn’t have picked up the stupid letter, you brought this on yourself.

But Spencer’s heart did the thing again when he watched you walk down the hall.

You spent what felt like the whole of fifth period stealing glances at Spencer, which was absolutely not discrete since you always sat in front of him and you could only check the clock that hung on the back of the classroom wall so many times before it became suspicious, if it wasn’t already.

You absolutely could not recall a singular word your teacher had spoken about, your mind completely fogged with thoughts of Sadie’s stupid hair and stupid nails dragging across Spencer’s locks or the way she dragged his glasses off his face which made you glad you didn’t eat lunch.

So when Mrs. Abernathy claimed you’d be splitting off into partners, you wanted to grab Spencer’s arm and yank him away from Sadie but you knew you couldn’t. You had to settle for Ethan not a bad choice in hindsight he was the smartest hockey player so you knew he’d at least would’ve been paying attention unlike you.

But you weren’t the only one who’s mind was absolutely full with thoughts of another, Spencer’s head felt sore at how much he was thinking of you, his heart ached at the sight of you upset, and as much as he hated it he couldn’t control it.

“I’m excited for this weekend” the pretty red head giggled under her large plastic goggles, Spencer’s head turned at the sound of her voice, snapping him from his gaze on you, he watched as she twisted the gas valve attached to the bunsen burner.

“What?” Spencer mutters in response as she lifts her head to meet his, his eyes widen in realisation “oh!” He rushes, absolutely mortified he had forgotten “ice skating, of course! I’m so excited” he scrambles quickly as her face began to drop, it quickly picks up at his words before she continues to quickly strike a match.

His eyes wander from the pages of his poorly written notebook, to the silver work bench across from him. The work bench that you were at, your teary eyes replaced by being slightly scrunched in laughter at whatever the curly haired brunette boy had muttered in your ear. Spencer’s eyes furrowed at the sight.

What could he possibly be saying to make you laugh?

“They’re cute right?” Sadie chirps holding a clear glass beaker while she swirled the blue liquid with a stirring stick, snapped out of his gaze once again, his face painted with confusion, he turns to face Sadie for a moment without a word, she seems equally confused at his silence before placing the beaker down for a moment “Ethan and y/n?” she adds in hopes of him understanding.

“Are they dating?” He rushes quickly grabbing the beaker from the bench before swirling the liquid himself.

Sadie giggles a little before responding “No I don’t think so” going back to write a little in her note book “She doesn’t really date, doesn’t stop guys from trying” she goes on to say, focused on her neatly lined notes, failing to notice Spencer’s usually pale pink knuckles suddenly turning white with how hard he was gripping the glass beaker.

“Okay! So we just have to add- Spencer!” Sadie shrieks as the glass shatters in his hand spilling the liquid all over the both of them, shards of glass piercing into his skin. He’s shocked at her reaction at first, completely unknowing of the mess he had made all over the bench, and her cheerleading uniform. “I just steam pressed this” Sadie claims eyes glued onto her now, blue stained uniform.

“Mr. Reid” Mrs.Abernathy states only the tiniest bit of concern lacing her statement “Please go to the nurse you’re bleeding all over my bench” she bores again, Spencer’s state only earns a giggle from you, concerned of course, but his deer in headlights stance and absolute silence, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“And Ms. Y/L/N, since you think it’s so funny you can take him” your quiet laughing stops at her stern words.

“But-”

“Now” She adds with not an ounce of sympathy dripping from her words, your eyes snap from her to Spencer who stood picking pieces of glass from his hand, you physically cringed at the sight before a groan escapes your lips. His eyes meet yours for a moment, your eyes rolling seemed to be the only appropriate response before you nod your head towards the door ushering him to follow you.

The silence in the unoccupied hallways was deafening, only the sounds of your shoes squeaking filling the air, you could hear Spencer whimpering a tiny bit behind you, you swore it took your whole strength not to turn around and tell him to shut-up, but you knew whatever you were angry at wasn’t technically his fault.

Your shoes squeaked a little louder as you both took a sharp turn into the nurses office, almost immediately greeted with a high pitched “oh my gosh!” The nurse squeaked as she saw the state of Spencer holding his bloody glass punctured hand “sit down!” She adds patting the examination table beckoning for Spencer, he responds with a weak nod before complying.

You weren’t sure on whether you were meant to leave or stay with Spencer in this situation, of course a part of you wanted to stay with him, comfort him until he felt better. But another part of you wanted to leave him there, claiming that if Sadie cared enough she’d be here instead of you.

But you stayed.

“y/n can you wrap it up for me I just have to grab something from across the hall” the nurse rushed holding a plastic bag with shards of red stained class, she barely looked up for an answer from you before zipping the bag up and rushing for the door.

“But Kate-”

“Just do it” she calls out, her small frame already half way out the door before you could even protest, your eyes shift back to Spencer who sat slumped on the table while he meekly sent a smile in your direction.

Despite your resistance, you sighed a little before reaching towards the top shelf grabbing alcohol spray and bandages before moving to meet Spencer at the table “this is gonna hurt a little okay?” You mumble gently grabbing his skinny wrist, turning it so his injured hand faced you, you bit your lip in concentration as you lined up the alcohol to spray at his wounds.

He winced a little at the sting before nodding for you to continue, you couldn’t help but enjoy the small whimpers falling from his lips, you felt perverted for it, but you were sure anyone would agree. It also made you realise how big his hands were in comparison to yours, you wanted so badly to just be able to hold it, for it to touch you.

You looked up at his face for a moment, watching how he caught his bottom lip in his teeth, eyes focused on his hand in pain, that was enough to make you huff with a loss of breath.

Cleaning up his hand, you toss his bloody gauze into the bin quickly turning to face away from him to wash your hands “you call Nurse Abbott, Kate?” He mutters, frowning as he takes a look at the state of his hand.

You pause for a second, brows knitting at his question, you hadn’t even realised you had called her that it had become normal to you “yeah I don’t know I’m in here a lot” you mumble in response back turning around to grab a dressing “I get migraines sometimes so she lets me sit in here” you continue, lining up the dressing on the biggest cut on his hand.

You couldn’t help yourself but stare at the lines and creases in his hands while you tended to him, the way his veins popped when would accidentally clench at the stinging was enough for you to bite your lip in frustration.

“You still get those?” He adds finally looking up from his hand to you, his eyes zoning on your the way your pretty eyebrows furrowed in concentration, your long eyelashes and pretty pump lips, licking them every now and then.

“You remember” Mumbling you toss the dressing wrappers away not daring to meet Spencer’s eyes while doing so.

“Yeah they used to scare me” he laughs while your hand brushes over his, memories of times you had to lay in a quiet pitch black room ran through your mind, and the way you’d yell at him if he opened the door letting the light in. You always felt bad for yelling at him, you knew he probably just wanted to play Mario kart so you’d bake him cupcakes to make up for it.

“Are we still fake dating tonight?” He adds, leaning his head down a little for his eyes to meet yours. You cringe a little at his wording cause selfishly, you didn’t want it to be a fake date, you wanted to real date him and you wanted him to real date you.

“Spence” you mutter no louder than a whisper, you don’t meet his eyes, instead focused on finishing up his hand “your hand” you mention looking up at him for a split second to look back down at his hand, coloured white with the bandage wrapped around it.

“It’s okay” he rushed “It doesn’t hurt that bad” now you didn’t buy that for a second, you surprised he didn’t need stitches and he was a terrible liar “I can hold onto the railing.. please” you were strong, you could admit that but the pleading along with his big round eyes beaming up at you almost twinkling under the fluorescent lighting.

“Maybe” you breathe, surprised you didn’t immediately say yes the minute he started begging.

He seemed momentarily satisfied with your answer “done” you whisper smiling back up at him, only you realised he was already looking at you, not just looking at you, but looking into you. His eyes exploring the depths of yours, like he was desperate to see behind them. And honestly he was, he wanted to be in your brain at this very moment, wanted to know what you were thinking, how you were feeling but he couldn’t tell, only noting the quick rise and fall of your chest and your glistening bottom lip as you licked it, you were nervous.

His eyes moved from your eyes, along your jawline and all across your face, counting every beauty spot every freckle, you both scanned each others faces, searching for something you couldn’t even answer only the sounds of your breathes mixing in with each other filling the what felt like warm air.

Your eyes both meet each others for a second, brows furrowing in curiosity, your eyes faulting from his eyes to his lips, disparity fuelling in the pit of your stomach.

“Okay!” A voice booms from the corridor adjacent to the door “oh! y/n I didn’t think you’d wrap it so quickly” she adds looking up from her clipboard at the both of you.

You must’ve looked like a deer in headlights, both pulled from the depths of your gaze on each other, you’d never seen him look at you like that, and honestly you didn’t even know what it meant. You’d never seen him look at anyone like that.

“Sorry” you mumble a little sheepishly, dropping Spencer’s hand into his lap which you were unaware you were still holding, embarrassed that you had pretty much eye fucked him “I’ll go now” nodding at Kate before attempting to make your way to the doorway, but not without Spencer’s uninjured hand grabbing your wrist.

“Tonight?” He queried again tilting his head to the side like a puppy dog, his big brown eyes shining in your direction which absolutely did not help your case.

Your mind fights it for a little, there was no way he should be out ice skating with an injured hand, and you also didn’t really want to go after seeing the way him and Sadie were getting to know each other in the cafeteria. But despite all that, you selfishly just wanted to feel like you were the one on a date with him.

“Please” he whispers his lanky hand still gently gripping your wrist.

Yep that’ll do it

“Fine” you groan, defeat dripping from your words rolling your eyes in annoyance, false annoyance.

It was hard to act annoyed when the biggest grin grew on his pretty little face, you would’ve almost forgotten that his hand had pretty much been mauled by a glass beaker.

taglist: @sxln @dontcallmeidontexist @mielagrumes @primier @irlpadfoot @julisblogg @nincompoopydoo @multifandomgrl08 @lovemelaunic @marvelwhor3 @bunbunbl0gs @itsggmoon @wallowingwaif @corpsebridenightamare @sarcasticnovah @axolotlover225 @princessbloom789 @sercrics @stcrrjoon @moonloverc @the-virgin-suicide @dresdensstuff @darkbarbariancherryblossom @st6rful @ageofmann @lilia38 @sunariin @stupendousmusiclistener @kitty2026 @cherry-bom @preciousbabypeter @spencerslove @spilvy @cultish-corner @youcantseem3 @universallyblizzardlove @holymotherfxrkingshirtballs @dubumeow @msspencerreid @ilovebeabadoobee06 @cup1dschaos @lomzy5 @starchaserx @stuffyownswrld @yyassss69 @caftersx @damnkehlani14 @kirisimpster @lilanhallee @syd649 @blueberrymuffins6788 @itsyagrillkat @ehedrick012110 @swiftlyinlove @wittle-bunny420 @fivefttwo @violetromanova @cheekis-ficeroonees @ehedrick012110

if ur name is here and it isn’t tagged that means your blog can’t be searched xx

BOYS LIKE YOU TAG LIST: HERE

[shadowbriar]

Matt Murdock - Scratches

Pairing : Matt Murdock x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 2.2k Warning : Injuries, nothing graphics. Matt being dumb that he inflicts injuries to himself. A bit of angst I think. Synopsis : The lack of knowledge about her wellbeing is doing everything but put his mind at ease and Matt wasn’t sure how long he could live with such torture. Notes : Special work for my precious @basementsoup. I hope you like this Alex! ♡ If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

Matt hated it.

He hated having to admit that he still needs her. That even after months of separation, the many helping hands he found and friends he could’ve come to, he still found himself scrambling back to her apartment. He hated that in the lowest moments in life, her soothing touch and gentle words were the only thing that helped him stay afloat.

But nothing beats the hatred he felt when he finally managed to get inside. He hated how there’s a new pot of sunflowers placed by the widow. He hated how the pictures on the walls are now gone, replaced with what seems to be mirrors and other wall decorations. He hated, the most, how his scent no longer lingers in the air.

Before he could drown himself deeper into the wallowing, the sound of keys jingling and door knob twisting were heard. His heart paced for a split moment. A short period of regret washes over him. Perhaps he shouldn’t have barged in tonight.

“Matt,” She called, surprise was evident in her tone. Her heart skipped a beat and Matt wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the reasoning for it; is she glad to finally see him again or is she hating their reunion?

“I broke your pot,” He says instead “I didn’t realise you'd done some redecorating.”

“Yeah, I, uh.. I needed a change of setting.” She answers as she takes off her coat, tossing her bag to the floor once she realises his bruised face “Oh, God, not again.”

Matt tries his best to suppress the blooming smile on his face as he feels her fingers examining his face, “It’s just a light scratch.”

“You always say that,” She protests “I can find you on your deathbed, bleeding away, and you’ll still say it’s just a scratch.”

“Has it ever been more than a scratch?”

Matt knew that she must be glaring at him right now. The change in her breathing is clear for him to tell that he’s bruised her patience. But even with annoyance and vexation boiling her blood, her care and worry for him will always overshadow it.

“Come, I’ll clean your wounds.” She says as she holds his arm.

A small kaleidoscope of butterflies flutters in his heart. She knew that he could navigate himself to the sofa. He only broke the pot because he wasn’t expecting any change of setting in her apartment but now that he knew, he’ll be sure to be more careful in moving around, so there’s truly no need of her to guide him this way. Yet again, why would he complain?

“What is it this time?” She asks as she went to the cabinet to get her aid kit “Fisk? Castle? Some thugs?”

“Would you believe me if I say I fell off the bed?”

She turns and eyes him with a glare.

“Alright, not the bed then,” He jests “Stairs. I fell down the stairs.”

“Not funny, Matthew.”

“What, can’t a blind man fall from the stairs?”

She lets out a sigh. Matt could sense her defeated shoulders from the way she dropped the aid kit, “You wouldn’t come here if you only fell from the stairs, Matt.”

“Wouldn’t I?”

Truth is Matt has tried his hardest to stop himself from seeing her. He’s fought every urge to jump out of bed at night and come to her. Every little thing in his life pushes him to get closer to her. Like a magnetic force he couldn’t seem to escape. He wanted to ask her what tea he should get from the grocery shop. He wanted to ask her if he should wear the blue or the red tie for the court trial the next day. He wanted to ask her if he could borrow some sugar though the trip to the grocery store is far closer than having to walk to her apartment.

Anything that happens in his life, he wanted to share it with her.

“I don’t want to have this conversation again, Matt.”

“I know,” He nods, licking his lips as he tries to show an apologetic smile “I’m sorry.”

Matt could feel the sofa shifting when she took a seat next to him. He could smell the water from the bowl on her lap and the rest of her aid kit that are now laid on the table. This feels painfully nostalgic. To have her tend his wounds yet for the first time, he knew that he won’t be getting the one true cure he needs — her kisses.

“Are there any other bruises or wounds than the ones on your face?” She asks as she begins cleaning his skin “One of these days you’re gonna need to get yourself a real professional help. Like a personal nurse or doctor. I won’t be here forever to help you.”

“Won’t you?”

“You’re not exactly the easiest patient to tend to,” She answers with a teasing smile “I’d say the chance is pretty high.”

“But I’m your only patient. You need a comparison to say that I’m the worst of your patients.”

“No one can be this much of a pain in my ass than you, Murdock. You know that.”

Matt only smiles at her remarks. He wanted to bask in this moment. To suffocate himself with her gentle touches. To hear the beat of her heart that has become his personal ballad. To know that no matter how far the distance between them grows, she will forever be his true north.

Her movement was put to a short halt when her fingers bruised his lips. He can’t see her but he hopes that the longing in his face is mirrored on her. That she misses the feeling of their lips touching. That she misses the feeling of his lips whispering sweet nonsense in her ear. That she misses him too.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” She says instead as she abruptly stands from her seat “If you don’t have any other injury, I think you’re good to go.”

Matt forces a laugh, “What just happened?”

“I don’t know, Matt, you tell me! What are you doing here?”

“I told you, I fell down the stairs.”

“Yeah, and you couldn’t have asked Foggy or Karen to help with your wound?” She asks, her volume slightly rising in frustration “Do you even feel those wounds? Because I know you have that superhero metabolism thing and I’ve seen you get worse injuries. You can’t just come here, spend half an hour to get to the other side of the city, just to get some bandaid for your scratches.”

Her heartbeat has gone frantic now. Matt could feel the frustration, the anger, the disappointment from all the words she uttered, but the most evident thing he could hear was how much she worries for him. How much she wanted to embrace him as she once did. How much she wanted to show him the love she hoards for him, even without saying it out loud.

It had been a few painful weeks leading up to their separation. He could hardly remember the last time he’s slept a wink. There’s always someone crying for help, someone screaming in agony, wailing in pain and despair that he just had to go out there and lend a hand. And even with all of his God gifted abilities, there’s only so much he could take before he succumbed to his demons. And unfortunately, this is one of the few battles he has to admit losing.

Even up till this moment, Matt still tries to convince himself that he didn’t regret ending things between them. It needed to be done. He had to make sure that the Daredevil and his business wouldn’t come between him and her. He needed to make sure that the enemies he made along the way would never find their ways to her. He needed to make sure that when the Daredevil himself had to make penance for his sins, he wouldn’t drag her along with him to hell.

And the only way he could save her is to cut the relationship clean.

But Matt is as much of a selfish man as the next person. He couldn’t keep away from her for too long. The thought of her moving on peels his skin when it should’ve given him the satisfaction and fulfilment. The way her shampoo no longer lingers on his pillowcase gives him nightmares. The distance that he thought would be her safety net soon turns into a limbo of anxiety and worry. The lack of knowledge about her wellbeing is doing everything but put his mind at ease and Matt wasn’t sure how long he could live with such torture.

“I didn’t lie when I told you I fell from the stairs,” He explains softly “I— I’ve been wanting to come and see you but I just— I don’t know how.”

Her heartbeat slows, completely focused on his words now.

“I thought about purposely messing up my laundry and calling you for help. I thought about using that wrong detergent for our— my blankets, but I know you’d never forgive me.” He confesses, a pathetic chuckle escaped his lips “I mean, I wouldn’t want to ruin those blankets, to be real. They’re precious to me. We use them for our movie nights.”

“So you figured you just fell down the stairs?”

He shrugs, a small embarrassed smile curved on his face, “I had to make sure you won’t kick me out and slam the door on my face.”

“You’re an idiot, Matthew.”

“I know.”

“No, I don’t think you do,” She seethes, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves and running a hand through her hair in frustration “You— You can’t just end things between us and suddenly barges into my apartment, begging me to clean your self-inflicted wounds. That’s not how things work, Matt. That’s— That’s cruel.”

And that’s when he feels it. The foul taste of salt from her tears slowly rolling down her cheeks. The night just keeps getting worse and worse, so it seems. It was never in his intention to make her cry though he’s got to admit that he’s done that one too many times. He only wanted to see her, to feel her touch one more time, not to cause an even greater pain to their gashing wound.

“What do you want from me, Matt?” She painfully asks, her voice cracks from the heartache “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Is that what you want? For me to leave you alone?”

A bitter laughter escapes her lips, “I want you to love me, but that’s clearly not on the table, so I suppose being left by you would be the best option.”

Carefully, Matt stands from his seat and walks toward her. He reaches for her face, feeling the wetness of her cheeks under his calloused fingers. It pains him to see her this way. To know that he’s caused her more pain than happiness. All because he thought he knew better when clearly he didn't.

“I love you. I’ve always loved you,” He confesses “It’s because I love you that I ended things between us.”

Matt could feel the skin on her forehead scrunching, clearly from the confusion of his words.

“It was becoming unsafe for you to be with me. I made too many enemies, too many people that wanted to avenge their anger to me and it was only a matter of time before they knew about the one thing that would hurt me most and I can’t— I can’t risk that.”

“So I’m, what? A weakness?”

“Yeah. Yeah, you are my weakness,” Matt says with a nod “And I couldn’t care less about having a weakness, believe me I don’t care about my soft spots, but you..” He pauses, cupping her face gently as his eyes become glossy “You.. You, I cannot ignore. Just the thought of someone, laying a hand on you, hurting just a strand of your hair.. It drives me nuts. I care more about you than anything. So if staying away from you is the only option I have, if it’s the only way I can minimise the risk of harming you..”

A tear finally rolled down his cheek. It feels liberating to finally confess all of his reasoning, to finally let her know the cause of his discourteous actions, but there’s still no solution to their problem. There’s still a huge question mark for them to tackle and he wasn’t sure if he’s ready to reach that point yet. He wanted to still feel her touch, to hear her calling his name even if they’re filled with her venomous tone.

“Matt—”

“Tell me,” He cuts in, trying to recollect himself from the turmoil “Do you want me to leave? Would it be best for me to leave you be?”

“No, no I never want you to leave.” She answers as she pulls him for a hug, burying her face to his chest and wetting his shirt with her tears “Don’t leave me, please.”

Matt welcomes the embrace in no time. He pulls her close, making her stand on her tippy toes as he lifts her. He misses this. The warm scent of her perfume, the pressure of her on his body, the feeling of her heart beating against his chest. This feels like home. She feels like home.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers to her ear “I’m sorry for everything.”

“I don’t need your apologies, Matt. I just need you to promise you’ll stay this time.”

He nods eagerly, pulling her impossibly close to make sure that she hears him, “I promise.”

[lowkeyrobin]

hello! i was wondering if you could write a one shot for finn wolfhard? maybe like a date night or something but take your own route!

oooo fuck yeah of course!! ; I hate writing standard dinner dates (esp bc I've never been on a date before but we ain't gonna talk about that) so I hope you enjoy this! ; thanks for requesting :) ; also I'm so sorry this is so short, writers block kicked my ass on this :(

FINN WOLFHARD ; city boy

summary ; a little date in the city with Finn

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; I don't know shit about living in a city lol

track ; city boy ; calpurnia

word count ; 551

masterlist

"Jay-Z or Fleetwood Mac?" You ask, hanging Finn an earbud as you scroll through one of your playlists.

"Uh, Jay-Z" He nods, inserting the little device into his ear, making sure as he walked on your left side, that it went in his left ear, pairing with the earbud that you had in your right ear. "Now you're in New York~." He smiles, purposefully singing badly to play with you.

"Shush!" You laugh, taking his hand in yours.

When it came to dates with you two, anything but dinner was up for discussion. You both hated classy dates, you'd rather go do something fun and live your lives while you could.

You were walking down the streets towards one of the many bridges in the city, wanting to walk on one of the lower levels and experience the wind of the cars passing by punching your backs and being able to smell the water below.

The noise of the metal pittering underneath your feet was unintelligible, being defeaned by the whizzing of passing vehicles. The breeze brushes against your faces, pushing your hair back as you look over the railing, arms crossed over the ledge to get a bit of a better position to look down.

The water has a sort of quiet white noise to it, washing and running below the bridge. The tide pushes toward you, the large ripples, almost waves, stagger their way down the surface of the water, carrying the boats and canoes with them.

"This is nice" Finn says quietly, taking a glance at you to see your expression, trying to read you.

You nod in agreement, looking down at the water, feeling cars whizz past you above and behind you.

"You look nice today" He smiles, catching your gaze. "Really makes your eyes pop"

You lightly smile and roll your eyes. "Such a romantic, Finn"

"Yeah, I know"

"You wanna go down there?" You ask, pointing down at one of the boat piers.

He shrugs, "Yeah, sure"

You walk all the way back off the bridge, then make your way down the streets and across the other bridge to get you down to the docks. Near those docks was a huge fountain that you both liked to be misted with water by.

The walk down is calm and peaceful, hands tied with Blue Foundation playing in your earbuds. The breeze sends chills down your spine, causing him to feel the quick here-and-gone tenseness within the grip of your hand. His curls reveal his face as the wind pushes them back, nearly taking his jacket with it before he zipped it up.

The sun produces enough heat for a moment of warmth before it's back to chills, clouds filling the sky and hiding the firey ball of flame periodically. He pulls you a little closer, seeking your body warmth, considering you'd been wrapped up in jeans, a long sleeved shirt, and a heavy hoodie.

You look over at him, an eyebrow raised at his actions, your pace slowing down a bit for him.

"I'm cold, shut up." He smiles, resting his arm around your waist, your shoulders brushing every few steps. "You're warm"

"I'm hot, actually"

"Yeah, yeah. You are hot." He giggles, placing a light kiss on your temple.

"Mhm, say it again"

"You're hot"

[custardcrazy]

true connection

summary: Your boyfriend returns to you after a short disappearance (to who knows where). (gn!reader) 

wordcount: 2.4k 

A/N: set after peter gets dropped back to his universe. established relationship woohooooo!!!!!!!! (too lazy to write friends to lovers rn but i really want to) 

You weren't sure what happened to Peter when he vanished, but there was definitely something different about him when he returned. 

It was late, the sky an inky blue by the time you'd attempted to go to bed. Filtered through the small gap you left in your bedroom window were the sounds of the city at night: cars passing by, the occasional angry horn, pumping music from a couple of doors down. 

You didn't mind any of that. You could deal with the noise, of course. 

But what caused you to jump up and push all your covers aside was a familiar knock on the glass. 

It'd been years since he'd stopped showing up at your window, but lo and behold: there he was. 

To your mild relief, he didn't look injured or anything. Just a little scruffier than usual. 

Before, when he'd leave for certain periods of time, that usually meant he was off fighting some big bad alongside other superheroes. However, he always told you before he left to fight said big bad; this time, he was just up and gone. Apartment empty, things scattered around as if a tornado had swept through the small space. 

It was only natural to assume the worst. 

So, when he climbed through your window, landing maybe a little clumsily, you were torn between bombarding him with questions or clinging to him like some sort of touch-starved koala. After all, you'd been worried. To say the very least. But you didn't speak yet, as he stood up straight and rolled his shoulders. 

The air hung low, for a moment. His gaze met yours. Searching.

And then, his arms were around you. You were encapsulated by familiarity -- his were hands you knew, hands you'd held and kissed and examined countless times, even when frustratingly covered by his suit. You could feel the slight scratch of stubble as he pressed his lips to your forehead, lingering. 

"I missed you." Voice low, though it trembled a little. There was something else besides the normal homesickness that you were accustomed to.

"I missed you too," you echoed. Peter seemed content to just look at you for now. Now, his thumb was tracing your cheek. You let the tenderness of the action sink in, before breaking the silence. "Where were you?" 

And how important was it, for him not to let you know? 

His mouth opened as if he was going to speak, but he closed it soon after. A crease formed between his furrowed brows. "Uh," he began, "it's … a really long story. I'd try and explain it to you, but you'd probably think I was crazy or something." The corner of his mouth quirked up, and you couldn't help but match it. 

"You've fought countless outright bizarre villains -- I think I can handle it." 

There was another scratchy kiss pressed affectionately to your forehead. "I bet you could." 

"But, really." Even though he was smiling, you knew he was being serious. "I wasn't kidding. It's a really long story, and I don't really feel like doing the whole play-by-play right now." 

You exhaled slowly. "That's fine. But you'll tell me … eventually, right?" 

"Of course I will." Peter inclined his head a fraction of an inch, dipping more into your space. "I just need a really, really long hot shower and then a really, really long nap." He huffed out a quiet laugh. "And maybe a grilled cheese." 

"I think that's possible." You dropped your eyes for a second, thinking, then quickly met his once more. Naturally, he was downplaying his own exhaustion -- but again, you'd known him long enough that even his strong and practiced attempts at hiding his own weakness were easy to decipher. Obviously, he was worn. Tired. He always carried it on his back and shoulders, and especially in his eyes. 

"There's definitely some of your old clothes around here somewhere, if you wanted to use my shower." 

At that, Peter's smile widened. Sure, it wasn't an all-out grin, but it was just as sweet. From your close proximity, you could pick out the beginnings of crow's feet making their idents; sure, you were well aware that he wasn't the fondest of the few wrinkles that were forming on his face. 

Honestly, though? They only made him more attractive. 

"You're a lifesaver," he gushed, "seriously." Hesitating for a second, he added: "But could you indicate which towels I can use? I'd feel guilty for stealing yours." 

"Like last time?" 

"... That was three years ago." 

Reluctantly, you detangled yourself from his arms. "And yet, I still remember." 

"I'm a changed man, okay? You can trust me. Stealing is against my moral code." 

As you headed the short distance to the bathroom, Peter stuck close to you. Even if he wasn't holding you anymore, he didn't seem keen on leaving your side just now. His arm brushed yours as you moved past him to get to the closet. 

"These  -- and those, too, if you want." It took a little effort to reach around the various piles of things, but you handed him a towel. Bright cyan, with seashell patterns. "That's big enough, right? 

"Looks like it," he affirmed. "Thanks. I'll be out in a jiff." 

As if. Whenever he said that it'd take him at least half an hour. You wouldn't be surprised if your water bill suddenly skyrocketed. 

You retired to the living room, flicking on the television. Some late-night old movie reruns that looked semi-interesting, even if the video quality was a little shot, and the Transatlantic accents a little too smooth. Since the bathroom wasn't too far from the living room, you could distantly hear the water running in the background. 

"But Richard, no, I, I -- " pleaded the female lead, gazing at her man with nearly-teary eyes.  

" -- You've got to listen to me," he interrupted, nearly void of emotion in comparison. "Do you have any idea what you'd have to look forward to if you stayed here? Nine chances out of ten we'd both wind up in a concentration camp." 

--

It wasn't long before Peter emerged, hair damp and the seashell towel around his waist. A distinct cloud of steam wafted from the bathroom as he approached you, thankfully not dripping water onto the carpet. Even so, you could still notice some drops lingering on his shoulders and whatnot. 

"I'm guessing my leftovers are in your room," he said, a little pink in the face from what you assumed had been a burning hot shower.  

"Probably," you answered, getting up from the couch. "Let's see." 

After some rifling around in your dresser, you found them -- gray sweatpants, some worn plaid sleep shorts, an assortment of boxers, and a couple of ancient tee shirts which were probably old enough to legally own property. All the clothing got unceremoniously tossed at Peter, who looked mildly amused. 

"You should assign me my own drawer." Checking the shorts for holes, he paused to grin at you. "I bet there's even more stuff in there, huh?" 

Leaning back to sit on your heels, you sighed. "There's definitely more. But trying to find it all would be like trying to find buried treasure without a map." 

"And in this case, 'treasure' would be an extremely faded Daily Bugle sweatshirt." He raised his eyebrows. "Speaking of. I want that back, please." 

"Hey, it's really comfy, okay?" 

By the time you managed to rearrange the rightful contents of the drawers you'd thrown into a state of chaos, Peter had put on a shirt and the sleep shorts -- the latter were maybe a bit too small, but it wasn't like you were complaining. And it didn't seem like he cared, either, yawning widely as he stretched his arms to the sky. 

You stood up, mirroring his stretch. "Tired?" 

"You bet." He rubbed his eyes a little, before running his fingers through his hair; that ever-present lock of hair falling onto his forehead. "Are you?" 

"I was just about to go to bed when you showed up, so … " You absentmindedly fiddled with the hem of your shirt. "Yeah." 

"Oh, sorry 'bout that." Suddenly sheepish, he scratched the back of his neck. "I wasn't really thinking about the inconvenient time. I just wanted -- " 

" -- to see me?" You finished. 

The Peter of years prior would've ducked his head shyly. And, sure, that in itself was adorable, and would've made you go a little crazy. However, this Peter maintained eye contact, and nodded firmly, dropping his arm back to his side. 

Your heart did a neat double backflip. 

"Yeah," he confirmed. "I did. Like I said earlier … I missed you. A lot." 

The look in his eyes was genuine and you couldn't help but smile. 

"I'm glad you're back, Peter." 

--

The morning eased its way into your room, rays of sunlight trickling through your window and onto your face. 

You could hear the whirring of air-conditioning from the apartment above yours, as well as a couple of birds chirping. However, the sounds that overpowered the rest were the usual city ones: the aggressive morning commuters paired with the train passing by, clacking loudly on the tracks. 

His arm was slung over you, face somewhere near your shoulder or the top of your head. And he was completely dead to the world, quietly snoring near your ear. You smiled a little -- he smelled like your soap now, and not that three-in-one shampoo that he used. It was a nice change. 

For a little while, you remained laying there, enjoying the moment. He was warm, of course. Very comfy. A lot less sarcastic when he was asleep. 

Though, eventually, you did have to get up in order to make breakfast. 

With some effort and finesse, you wiggled out from under Peter's arm and scooted off the bed very slowly. To your relief, he was still basically unconscious, and just rolled over as you left the room, the wooden floor cold under your bare soles. 

There was some pancake mix left in your pantry, and although you were still a little groggy, making pancakes was practically second nature to you by now. Just like boxed macaroni and cheese. Or instant ramen, even if that didn't really count as cooking. 

By the time you'd loaded up a plate with the fruits of your labor, he was awake, practically lumbering into the kitchen. 

Upon sighting the food, he immediately moved to snatch a pancake straight from the plate. With no preamble whatsoever. Not even a 'please'. You knew by now it was futile to try and stop him, so you just let him take it. 

By the time he had half of it in his mouth, he finally spoke, words garbled by the food. " 'Morning." 

"Good morning to you, too." You tried not to comment on his lack of manners. "Sleep well?" 

He swallowed and leaned in to plant a kiss on your temple. "Excellently, actually." Pulling back, he brushed a couple of errant strands of hair out of his face; speaking of, his hair was sticking wildly in multiple directions, and he hadn't bothered to fix it just now. "I haven't slept that well in ages." 

Idly, he split the half of a pancake he was holding in half, lost in thought. "Scratch that. Maybe I have? After you helped me get that new bedframe from IKEA or wherever." 

"Yeah," you agreed, "seriously, why didn't you get a new one earlier? I didn't even know you were using just the mattress." 

He shrugged. "Couldn't fit the thing in the moving van." 

"Oh." 

Soon, you were both seated in front of the television, pancakes in tow. Peter flipped through the channels, before settling on the news. It was all normal stuff -- traffic backups, strings of petty theft, a new office building, et cetera. For a bit, you sat in a comfortable silence, the only sounds being the ones that weaved their way in from outside, and the noise coming from the TV. 

Even though there was more space on the couch, neither of you wanted to move away from each other. 

Peter's head fell to rest on your shoulder. Instinctively, you wrapped your arm around him, and he audibly sighed, scooching closer. 

"So," you said, after a few seconds. "How long are you gonna stay here? Your apartment's a mess, isn't it?" 

"Do you want me gone that bad?" He volleyed back, teasing. "Then, no, I'm not leaving. I'm gonna mooch off your food, money, and WiFi -- forever." 

"Peter -- " you couldn't help but snicker, "you know what I meant." 

"Okay, okay." Dropping the snark, you could practically hear the grimace in his voice. "Later today, most likely. You're right, I do have to clean all that crap up." Barely audibly, he muttered, "god, I hate cleaning." 

"I know, I know." You leaned your head against his, not even paying attention to the news lady going on about some sort of rain pattern. "Seriously, though. Did a bomb go off in there or something? When I went to check on you, it sure looked like it." 

There was a noticeable pause before he responded, as if he was trying to figure out the best way to phrase what he was saying. 

"Uh, I swear I'm being honest, okay?" He began. "I'm not joking or anything. Really.” 

“But no, it wasn't a bomb, it was a … a portal.” He inhaled slowly. “And I got sucked through it. Some of my stuff got messed up because of its sucking." He made a couple of motions with the hand that wasn't resting limply on his thigh. 

"A portal? Like, a Doctor Strange portal?" 

"No, no, not like that." More hand gestures. "It was to another dimension. And that was why I didn't get any of your calls." 

After the initial shock -- honestly, it made sense. It had seemed like he'd just straight-up disappeared right off the face of the Earth. Sure, he got busy, but usually, your voicemails never went unanswered. 

"Oh, okay," you replied, calmly. 

He sat straight up, looking at you with more than a little bewilderment. "... 'Oh, okay?'" He repeated. "That's it? You're not gonna question it?" 

You shrugged lightly. 

"Why should I?" 

Just like you, it only took him a split second to recover. 

"Fair enough." 

He was back to leaning on you before he spoke again. "So … I'm assuming that you wanna hear all about my thrilling adventures?" Smirking, he sounded pleased with himself. "I became a mentor, you know. And saved every single alternate universe ever." 

"Oh, really?" 

When he kissed you, you reciprocated without hesitation. He tasted very faintly of chocolate chips -- and lingered again, before finally pulling away. 

"Really," he said. 

You smiled. 

"Tell me all about it, then." 

[sissyisawitch]

Rainbow in the Sky

Relationship: Ominis Gaunt x f!MC

Summary: What happens when blind Ominis learns that his best friend MC is a synesthete who associates certain traits of personality to all the colours he can't see? Synaesthesia = Perceptual phenomenon in which stimulation of one sensory pathway leads to involuntary experiences in a second sensory pathway.

Word Count: ~6.1k

Author's Note: Hi! It's been a while since I last posted, but college exams took up all my time. Anyways, I'm back with my first Ominis one shot, so I hope I did good enough for all the Gauntlets out there🤞 This one is for all my fellow synesthetes💕Enjoy!🌈

"Wake up, sleepyhead. Class is over."

"Mmh?"

MC's eyelids fluttered open as a hand gently nudged her awake. Still a bit groggy, she slowly realised that she had unintentionally dozed off during History of Magic. But most importantly, she noticed that she had inadvertently fell asleep on Ominis. A tidal wave of embarrassment washed over her, making her brusquely straighten up.

"Oh, Ominis, I'm so sorry, I didn't realise–"

The blond boy put his hand up to stop her, and smiled softly, "Don’t apologise. It's fine. That's what Professor Binns does to people."

MC tried to forget how much of a fool she had made of herself by gathering her belongings. Ominis did the same, then followed her out of the classroom.

As they began to walk together through the corridors teeming with students, the palpable awkwardness remained between them. The silence was thick, and neither knew quite how to break it. However, Ominis was rapidly becoming frustrated by the tension, and decided to inject some humour into the situation.

"You...uh, sleep really peacefully… like a serene Puffskein." He attempted to lighten the mood with a compliment, albeit clumsily. "Pardon me, I'm not trying to compare you to an animal... I just wanted to say that you were cute– Not that you’re not always cute, of course!"

Instead of easing the tension, his words hung in the air, unintentionally adding another layer of discomfort to their stroll through the corridors. MC mustered a polite smile, forgetting that he was unable to see it, as she was too busy worrying about whether the wand in his hand, with its tip pulsing with red light, could relay the fact that her heart had soared after hearing that he thought she was cute.

Screaming with joy on the inside, but trying hard to remain calm of the outside, MC desperately wished for a change in conversation, "Sebastian must've spent his free period at the library, like the bookworm he is. How about we go fetch him and head to lunch?"

MC thought Ominis would be happy to put an end to this moment of embarrassing torture, but against all expectations, his face contorted into an expression she had never seen on him before. He replied with one short, quick word, "Sure."

Without adding another word, they arrived at Central Hall a few minutes later, right when their mutual friend was coming out of the library and already taking long strides in their direction.

"Synaesthesia!" He shouted out of the blue as soon as he got in front of them.

"Bless you." Ominis joked, although his bitter tone was still present.

"Ugh, no!" Sebastian rolled his eyes at him before turning to his other friend. "MC, remember when you told me that you saw numbers as a certain colour, or that you gave personalities to colours?"

"You can do that?" Ominis questioned, quirking an eyebrow dubiously.

MC remained oddly silent, and turned as white as a sheet. It was Sebastian who answered for her, "Yes, she does. She never told you?"

"No…"

"Oh well, now you know." The brown-haired boy shrugged. " Anyway, I did some research at the library because I was curious and wanted to know why you had that. It took me hours to find a book about it, but I finally did. A Muggle did some research on it not long ago. He couldn't explain where it came from, but he did give it a name – synaesthesia – which is when someone perceives a sensation in addition to the one normally perceived.... So MC, you're a synesthete! It's exceptional!"

Sebastian's enthusiasm, conveyed in his loud tone, attracted the attention of curious ears around them. But as incredible as Sebastian considered this discovery to be, it was not the same for everyone else. It was just one more singularity, one more abnormality in the girl, making her once again the black sheep of Hogwarts.

"Synesthete? Wasn't being the Hero of Hogwarts enough for her? She just had to find something else to prove she was better than everyone else, didn’t she?" Leander Prewett scathed, thinking he was being quiet when in fact he was as discreet as a bull in a china shop. He scoffed. "What a stupid cow."

Next to him, Cressida Blume – Hogwarts's biggest faultfinder – nodded eagerly, “She’s such an attention-seeker.”

MC knew she should not allow herself to be affected by such stupid and immature words, but it was extremely complicated to do so when the people she was closest to could also hear these negative remarks, which could possibly have a bad influence on the way they viewed her. She looked away and bit the inside of her cheek, trying to think of something else.

Sebastian, notoriously impulsive by nature, recognised her expression immediately, which made his blood boil. He approached Leander at a slow but terrifyingly determined pace, until he towered over him, which made Cressida, who had a yellow streak, take several steps backwards

"The whole school already knows you've only got two brain cells left, Prewett, and yet you still open your mouth to prove you're still as daft as ever."

The redhead frowned as he looked up at him, "You tryin' to pick a fight with me, Sallow?"

"’Course I do! It's good that you still manage to notice the obvious. Even if it takes you a lot longer than what's considered normal. Perhaps you've lost another brain cell?" Sebastian smirked derisively.

Quickly tiring of being taken for a fool, the Gryffindor reached into his robe pocket to pull out his wand... but Sebastian saw right through him.

Seeing red at the idea of Leander having the ridiculous audacity to think that he would be able to defeat the best duellist of Hogwarts, the Slytherin drew faster than Leander, right before the redhead could complete his incantation.

Sebastian cast spell after spell with such an astonishing speed that his opponent was unable to evade the incoming magical onslaught. His wand danced through the air, sending various spells that formed a whole colour palette. He began with a simple Levioso to neutralise him, followed by a Flipendo to humiliate him in front of the spectators who had clumped together to watch the spectacle, and finally a Depulso to finish him off in style.

A powerful impact propelled Leander backward, and with a resounding thud, he collided face first with the solid stone wall, before falling limply back to the equally hard ground.

Preventing Sebastian from savouring his victory, Professor Weasley's horrified gasp resounded, "Mr. Sallow! What on earth possessed you to attack another student for no reason? Such savagery will not be tolerated! One hour of detention with me. Right now."

"But he insulted-" Sebastian tried to defend himself.

However, Professor Weasley cut him off sharply, "Two hours."

"But he started it! Why should I be the one to waste my time in detention?"

"You've wasted your time attacking a fellow student. Surely you can waste your precious time in detention too, can't you? Now, will it be three hours, or will you follow me in silence?"

Sebastian let out an irritated exhale through his nose before turning his gaze to MC. Without saying a word, the intensity in his pupils was enough to convey his message. 'If that's what it takes to defend you, I'd do it again.' Still, MC sent him a rueful yet thankful smile, and watched him follow Professor Weasley.

"Oh, Miss Blume." The Deputy Headmistress stopped momentarily in her tracks and turned around. "Take Mr. Prewett to the hospital wing, please."

Cressida rushed at Leander's side and helped him to his feet. His black and blue face was now displayed for everyone to see. He held on tightly to his housemate as he seemed on the verge of blacking out. But before they could disappear to the Hospital Wing, Ominis approached them, guided by his sentient wand.

"Prewett." Ominis spat his name as if it was an insult. When he no longer heard footsteps, he knew he had his attention. "If I hear or even get wind of you speaking ill of MC one more time, I won't hesitate to ask Black to have you expelled. You know how good friends he is with my father."

Ominis could not see his reaction, but his silence and the heavy tension growing between them was a satisfying enough response.

"That goes for you too, Blume." The Slytherin added, just to make sure he had made himself clear.

Ominis only heard Cressida make a short 'humph' of displeasure before the sound of their footsteps against the stone faded away. He subsequently turned back to his friend.

"MC?"

No response. He could not even sense her with his wand anymore.

"MC!" Ominis called out again, just in case she was still in the vicinity, but just far enough away to be imperceptible to his wand.

Still no response. She had run away.

"Fuck."

Obviously, she had not gone to the Great Hall to get lunch without him (Ominis knew her too well to think about that even for a fraction of second). No, he knew that she would want to hide after being the centre of unwanted attention, and he could only think of one place where she could have taken refuge... The Undercroft was his destination.

Trusting his instincts, he navigated the familiar twists and turns of the castle. He approached the secluded clock in the Dark Arts Tower, and opened the secret passageway with a simple flick of his wand. Once the gate to the Undercroft was raised, Ominis entered, the echo of his footsteps reverberating against the walls, making the boy doubt whether his friend was truly here. Nevertheless, the secret room did not remain silent for long, for MC made her presence known on her own.

"Here to make fun of me, aren't you? Another one of your snarky comments?" She asked, her voice coated with bitter sarcasm.

The jest failed to elicit a laugh from Ominis, who replied most solemnly, "I would never dare. Not with you."

"Good. Because you should know that if you did, I'd hex your arse until you joined Prewett in the hospital wing."

"I am perfectly aware of that." He smiled tenderly, approaching the direction from which her voice came.

"Good." She repeated. Once he had stopped in front of her, she pulled him by the wrist to sit on the floor next to her, their backs against the wall. Once he was settled, she released his hand.

Displeased at the loss of contact, Ominis felt the need to make himself interesting again, "Speaking of Prewett, I want you to know that I wanted to do something before Sebastian, but... you know how brash he is."

"I know."

"However... I talked to Prewett – well, more like threatened him actually – but point is, he'll never bother you again."

"Thank you, Ominis." She replied, and he could hear the genuine gratitude in her voice.

But something was not quite right because, if usually the way she pronounced his name with such warmth and how it rolled perfectly off her tongue did wonders to make him feel better... at this moment it was not enough.

“...You could have talked about your synaesthesia with me as well, you know? I could have been just as good of a listener as Sebastian.” He declared without thinking, hurt taking over his facial features.

“I know, you would. Even better than him, without a doubt.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

There was a moment of silence before he heard admit, “I was scared you’d think I’m stark raving mad, and–”

“I find it fascinating." He swiftly cut her off, not wanting to give her the time to depreciate herself any further. "How you give personalities to things that people don't even look at twice, I've never seen that level of creativity before. It just shows how deeply caring and thoughtful you are. You have a heart of gold, and the most kind and beautiful soul I have ever come across."

MC had tears in her eyes just from hearing him speak. Never before had such beautiful words been spoken to her, "Do you really mean that?"

"Every single word." Ominis insisted. "You have a unique talent. Do not let people's jealousy drag you down."

“It’s not a very useful talent though…” She mumbled.

“Allow me to disagree.” His falling intonation made it clear that his sentence was finished. Yet MC knew him well enough to recognise his expression when he had something to add, but did not dare.

“Go on.” She encouraged him.

MC’s soft words were the spur the young man needed to reveal what he had in the back of his mind, "Well, I always hear people talk about colours, or read about them in books, but I can't see what they look like, so...” He paused for a moment, either shy about his request, or afraid of refusal. “Perhaps you could help me understand what they feel like?"

“Oh, Ominis…” She cooed upon seeing the pastel shade creeping up his high cheekbones. She instinctively put a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to make him at ease again. “Of course, I’ll try my best. What colour do you want to know about first?”

“Let’s start with your favourite colour. Pink.” He declared without even having to think about it.

MC felt her own cheeks becoming beet red in turn. It was the way he remembered that insignificant detail they had rarely talked about. But it was also the way he had uttered the name of her favourite colour with confidence, without the slightest ounce of hesitation. He was always so attentive, and it made her feel all giddy. In fact, he always made her feel that way with the slightest show of affection, so it was nothing new, and yet it still remained exhilarating.

Unfortunately, as thrilled as he made her feel, he made her just as nervous, and she often ended up stammering (which she was sure ruined any chance she had of ever being able to charm him), “Uhm well… P-Pink is really sweet and kind, even if she’s quite naive. She's someone who looks at life through... well, rose-tinted glasses. She sees the good in everything and everyone, and is often lost in a daydream. Dreams mostly of love, while her cheeks turn pink to match her name.”

MC waited patiently for Ominis to respond in whatever kind of way, rather than remain agonisingly silent, with his eyes piercing right through her soul even though they could not see. She needed to know what he thought of her. If he understood her, or if he judged her. If he thought she was weird, or even worse, terrifying for thinking that way. She just desperately needed him to say the slightest word.

What she did not know, however, was that Ominis was remaining obediently silent because he was waiting for MC to continue with her explanations, which he found captivating.

“Am I detailing things enough? Does it help you?" MC decided to ask in a small voice to end the nerve-wracking silence.

Ominis offered her a soothing smile, "It does. You're doing a brilliant job."

"Brilliant...” She repeated awkwardly. “What colour do you want to hear about next?"

"Sebastian once told me the colour of the Slytherin house was green. What does it represent to you?"

“Pure joy. As soon as you see Green arrive, you're instantly relieved, because you know happiness is back. A bit like when grass reappears after a long winter when snow covered all nature and deprived it of its colours. But don’t get me wrong, Green isn't at all extroverted and attention-seeking. No, Green’s the kind of quiet, everlasting delight that makes for true happiness.”

Ominis took his time to process MC's explanation, before frowning, "Don’t people usually say that yellow is the colour of happiness?"

“Mhm, you’re right. They do. Usually because it’s the colour of the sun and a lot of flowers. But I think it's a hypocritical colour. She's always glowing, so brightly that all you can see is her, as if she wants to show off her happiness to everyone. But it's impossible to be that happy all the time! People like that are always hiding something.” The further MC went into her description, the more her calm tone disappeared and became louder.

Ominis listened intently to her, nodding along words, “Duly noted. I'll be wary of Yellow.”

“As you should.”

Even while being blind, Ominis knew by the tone of her voice that she was adorably pouting with her arms crossed in front of her chest. Witnessing how riled up she could get over colours, it made him inevitably chuckle, "All these colours, they really are like true people to you, aren't they?"

“They are. My brain has created all these characters for as long as I can remember. I’ve lived my whole life with them, so I can’t help but take this at heart…” She confessed, somewhat insecurely. “Is it weird?”

“Not at all. To be entirely truthful… I think it’s endearing, and makes me want to know how that beautiful mind of yours works even more. I only wish I could know you down to the smallest detail.”

MC could not understand how Ominis managed to say such sincere words out loud without the slightest difficulty. He admitted them to her as easily as if he were reciting the recipe for a potion, even when they were face to face. She wished she had even a quarter of his charisma... perhaps then she would have the courage to confess how she really felt.

She looked down, nervously tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, "So, uhm... let's continue, shall we? How about red?"

"I'm listening." He replied softly, smiling as if to give her confidence.

MC cleared her throat, “Red is really powerful, and so everything they feel is powerful. It’s always something like anger, or passion. They’re hot-blooded, but that’s why they feel warm and pleasant. But! You should be careful, because they can burn you if you come too close to them.”

"Sounds like a dangerous colour then." Ominis remarked.

"They can be. But if they like you, then you can trust them with your life. It's a really loyal colour, just like Blue. Blue is–"

“Oh, I know that one!” Ominis exclaimed proudly, now sitting more upright. “Blue is the colour that represents sadness. That’s why people say they’re blue when they’re sad, isn’t it?”

“Yes, you’re right…” MC paused hesitantly. He seemed so happy to finally know something about colours, that it broke her heart to have to tell him that she had a different kind of perception. “But… just like for Yellow, I don’t see things the same way as everyone else.”

Ominis's face fell a little. He had tried to impress MC by showing her that he was not completely ignorant, but he had failed miserably. Nevertheless, he forced himself to keep a slight smile on his lips to mask his disappointment, “How do you see it then?”

“Well, in my mind, Blue is the very definition of serenity and comfort. He's always perfectly calm and peaceful. He always knows just the right words to say. You'll never find anyone more trustworthy than him. You look up to him as you would look up to the sky.”

"Blue sounds majestic, I like him. I think it’s my favourite colour so far.” Ominis declared, making MC grin as she was delighted to be able to convey some emotions to him through her explanations. “Do you have any colour associated to sadness, then?"

“Purple. She’s always sad, because she looks like Blue and Red died and melted together to make her, so she can only mourn them. I wish there was a way to cheer her up, but it’s impossible. That’s how things are, unfortunately. She’s the representation of perpetual heartbreak.”

"And wouldn’t another colour be able to help her? Like Orange maybe?" Ominis suggested, now fully immersed in his friend's imaginary world.

MC could not hold back her scoff, "Oh, Merlin, no. Orange is so arrogant and big-headed! He thinks very highly of himself. He believes he's better than everyone else, because he's not a colour you often see in nature. So when he's around, he stands out so much from the crowd, that he's the only thing you can see.”

“So by that logic, someone who wears orange is a person who wants to draw attention to themselves?” He questioned, tilting his head slightly to the side out of curiosity.

“I guess you can say that.”

After concluding, MC recited the rainbow in her head, to make sure she had not forgotten any of the colours. Realising that she had presented them all to Ominis, she smiled in satisfaction.

"Well, I think that's it. We've talked about all the colours!" She announced cheerfully and clapped her hands together, just about to stand up.

"Wait!" Ominis held out his hand to stop her from leaving.

He put his hand where he thought her shoulder was, but his aim was too low. His fingertips brushed against her, running up her arm, and even through the layers of her uniform, it sent electric sparks all over her skin, resulting in her heart skipping a beat.

Blissfully oblivious to what he was making MC feel, Ominis continued, “I also read about brown. What does it feel like?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot about that one.” She hurried to answer, lest he think that she wanted to wrap up their conversation quickly. “Technically, brown's not a colour that's part of the rainbow. But anyway, it's a really basic colour that you cand find anywhere around you. Sure, he’s common, but he never disappoints you. He’s in harmony with everything. I reckon he’s the type of person that seems calm on the outside, but who has so many exciting – even chaotic – things going on in his mind. I associate brown to Sebastian a lot.”

Ominis jerked his hand away from MC's shoulder and recoiled from her, as if he'd received an electric shock. His jaw tightened and his eyebrows furrowed, creating a shadow over his misty opal eyes. They had always been full of light, giving them the ability to soothe MC, but seeing them at that exact moment, the girl could do nothing but wonder what she had said or done wrong to render them so dark.

(Un)Fortunately, Ominis was quick to give her some guidance on the subject with his next line, "So Sebastian gets a colour? What about me? Am I not good enough to have one?"

Piqued by the poison that was intoxicating his intonation, MC did not let it faze her, "Quite the opposite, actually. You're too important to only have one."

"Whatever does that mean?"

“It means that whenever I think about you, I feel red... like…" She flirted with the edge of the precipice, but her voice cracked and failed her before she could fully launch herself.

Even though he could hear the distress in her voice, MC was infinitely grateful at this moment that he could not see her cheeks as red as a poppy, as well as her eyes which were starting to fill with tears because her nerves were starting to fray.

Sensing that she was struggling, Ominis immediately abandoned his cold, distant attitude. Instead, he decided to reach out to her again, but this time he rested his hand on her knee, "It's okay. Take your time."

This simple gesture was enough to give MC the strength to continue what she wanted to tell him. She took a deep breath before crossing the point of no return, this time with determination, and seized the golden opportunity to reveal her true colours.

“I feel red like my ardent feelings for you and the way they overpower me whenever I'm around you. Or like my jealousy when I see you close to other girls. I also feel orange, because I’m pretentious enough to believe that I'm the right person for you, that we belong together. Yellow is hypocrite, just like I am when I pretend to be content with us simply being friends. I'm overcome with green every time I see you coming towards me with your beautiful smile. I see blue when I look into your eyes. They’re the most magnificent and reassuring place on Earth. They remind me that you’re the most trustworthy person I’ll ever meet. I trust you with my life, because I know you’d never do anything to hurt me. I feel purple when I remind myself that you might never return all the love I have for you. And lastly... I feel terribly pink right now, because I'm naive enough to think that my confession won’t ruin our friendship, and make you run away from me."

Ominis never really found himself at a loss for words, it happened once in a blue moon. He had always had a knack for finding the right comment at the right time. MC had said so herself earlier. But now, after hearing his best friend make the most beautiful and honest of declarations of love – and rest assured he had heard a good handful of them in his life with all the pureblood girls trying to charm him in the hope of joining the overrated Gaunt family – Ominis was simply rendered speechless. And a few seconds later, he also found himself breathless when he heard MC's melodious giggle echoing between the stone walls.

The girl was laughing for a whole list of reasons. Firstly, because the situation seemed so surreal. When she woke up this morning, she never thought she would end up pouring her heart out to Ominis. It was such a thrilling yet white-knuckle experience.

The second reason was how lighter she felt now that everything was off her chest, and out in the open. She could no longer understand why she had decided to carry such a heavy weight in secret for so long.

Lastly, it was impossible for MC to remain impassive in front of Ominis's hilariously adorable expression of frustration. With his defined arched eyebrows raised, and his remarkable eyes as wide as they could possibly be. Then there was the red tinge that had taken hold of his pale skin and even his ears. Not to mention his mouth agape, ready to utter the words that were stuck in his throat, while his bottom lip quivered, only making MC want to suck on it and graze it between her teeth.

"You're the rainbow in the sky of my life, Ominis!" She added with a radiant joy in her voice that was as obvious as the sincerity and beauty of her words. The warmth of her intonation was such that it could warm the cold, dark room that was the Undercroft. It was a sound that made Ominis's heart beat faster, and yet made all the tension in his muscles vanish. Never in his life had he heard anything or anyone as soothing and angelic as MC.

He took a moment to think about what he was going to say next, searching for the right words to express what he was feeling, and when he found them, he expressed them without the slightest tremor in his voice, “You’re right. You’re truly naive, because this is going to inevitably devastate our friendship.”

MC gasped out of fright but Ominis did not let her get a word in edgeways before he was finished.

“However, you were wrong about the second part. It did nothing to make me want to run away from you. Quite the opposite, in fact. It gave me the courage to finally act on my innermost desires, and get closer to you, like I've always wanted.”

Now that he said it, MC realised how he had scooted closer to her unnoticed, until their sides were leaning against each other, making their knees brush, and their hands touch. Using his little finger to caress the back of MC's hand and test the waters, Ominis fully grasped his beloved's hand and intertwined their fingers together when he realised that she was not reluctant to his touch.

Thrilled by his gesture, MC looked up at his beautiful face that she now could see up close thanks to their intimate proximity. She could not help but be mesmerized by the intricate details of his features, starting with the numerous beauty spots that adorned his pale skin and caught the light in such a way that it was impossible for her not to trace their contours with her eyes. She was fascinated by the realisation that, over the many years of their friendship, she had memorised the location of each of these moles, like familiar landmarks on a map she treasured. One small cluster as black as coal was just below his cheekbone, as well as on his jaw, highlighting its sharpness.

As she continued her silent inspection, MC's fingers began to twitch with the urge to gently trace the paths between those beauty spots, resulting in her squeezing Ominis's hand instead. She wanted to map them with her touch in the same way she had done with her eyes. Especially the isolated one next to his left eye. It stood out from the rest and added a touch of charm to his gaze, drawing attention to his unique and expressive eyes, with their irises that were a mixture of azure and creamy rays, giving them a welcoming depth in which MC wanted to drown. His eyes could not see her, and yet they looked at her with such warmth and admiration, echoing the emotions he concealed so well. Every nuance of his expression spoke volumes, revealing a vulnerability that only exacerbated her own feelings. MC could feel her heart beating faster, a gentle reminder of the unspoken connection they shared.

Still sensing the way she was admiring him as if he were the incarnation of Apollo himself, Ominis brought their entwined hands to his lips, and placed a tender, lingering kiss on her knuckles, “I've loved you since fifth year, and I've fallen for you more and more with each passing day, but..."

"But what?" She breathed, her voice barely louder than a murmur. She feared that her curiosity would put an end to their moment of complicity.

"...But I always thought you fancied Sebastian.”

“Sebastian is dear to me. But like a brother. He has been the confidant of all my admiration for you.”

With that revelation, Ominis's face drew nearer, until she could feel the warmth of his breath, a tantalizing whisper against her skin. The air seemed to thicken with anticipation, making MC close her eyes in an attempt to calm her rapid heartbeat. She soon realised it was all in vain, for the scent of the boy she cherished immediately overcame her senses and excited her even more.

Ominis's perfume wafted through the air, enveloping MC in its amalgam of cedar and bergamot aromas, a blend of sophistication and warmth. She allowed herself to briefly savour the fragrance, before opening her eyes again.

But, in the blink of an eye (literally), the moment shifted. Ominis, perhaps aware of the charged atmosphere, had leant in even closer. MC's gaze flickered to his lips, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The unspoken tension lingering between them reached its zenith, and the uncharted territory of what could be hung in the air. A fleeting thought suddenly crossed MC's mind – was this the red-letter day where he would bridge the gap between friendship and something more?

And sure enough...

“Can I kiss you?” He asked in a soft, sensual voice. He was only a couple of inches from her now.

MC was tickled pink, “You don’t need to ask. I’m all yours.”

Ominis raised his hand to where he thought MC's head was and, sensing his hesitation, the girl guided him to her cheek. This small gesture gave him the final green light to do whatever he wanted with her. Once his palm made contact with her skin, he searched for her lips with his thumb, and when he found them, he traced their contours with as much delicacy as if he were touching the petals of a fragile flower, reflecting all the esteem and care he had for her.

Ominis smiled at the softness of her lips before deciding, at last, to feel them with his own. He kissed her in a slow and tender dance. He took his time to appreciate all the sensations that were new to him, appreciate his first kiss with the witch of his dreams. Each lick and suck were a deliberate exploration as if he aimed to imprint every subtlety and nuances about her into his brain – from her sugary taste of remnants of Chocolate Frogs, to the shape of her full and plump lips, by way of her hypnotic floral fragrance.

When she had explained all these colours to him, he had managed to imagine them, but now... Now, he understood them.

Red for the intensity of his passion for her. Orange because he wanted her to only have eyes for him. Yellow for his hypocrisy when he played the act of the gentleman who wanted nothing more than a chaste kiss. Green for... well, how could he be anything but unmeasurably happy in this instant? Blue because, just like it was his favourite colour, she was his favourite person. He always wanted to be with her, just to feel like he was somewhere he belonged. Purple when he thought of the possibility of this magical moment being nothing more than a dream, a wicked trick of his imagination. And yet pink, because he hoped he was living a dream come true, and would get to keep her by his side forever.

When he felt himself starting to lose control over his actions, when his urges threatened to take over his chivalry, he immediately pulled away. This was one of the rare occasions where Ominis was grateful to be blind. Because if he was able to see her tantalising lips, he just knew that he would be doomed. He would never be able to spend even a second of his life without kissing them.

His hand which was still cupping her cheek, started caressing her smooth skin, "Not only do you make me feel all these colours, MC, but you're also the first person to make me experience them as well."

Sure, Ominis's confession was lovely and went straight to her heart... but MC could not take her mind off the primal urge to kiss devour Ominis that coursed through her veins. And so, instead of responding with words, she chose to convey her love with a different language, a more physical one.

She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, causing him to topple backwards, resulting in MC lying on top of him on the floor. Without waiting, she smashed her lips back on his – which, let's face it, was far more meaningful and accurate than any words she could have come up with.

She clutched his wrists to place them on her waist and hips, like an enthusiastic invitation to explore the new curves of her body, which Ominis accepted gladly, starting to trace her contours and memorise them. Whereupon, one of her own hands wandered up and down his chest, trying to feel as much of her lover as she could through the textile barrier that was his white shirt. Meanwhile, her other hand snaked around his neck until it reached the top of his nape. She tangled her fingers in his golden hair, pulling it lightly by the roots, earning a needy whimper from Ominis that was muffled by their fiery kiss.

Time seemed to suspend as they entirely immersed themselves in the experience, as if etching every fibre of the other into their memory. The way they pulled each other closer, the way they wanted desired and desperately needed each other...

They were so engrossed in each other's electric touch that they did not hear the rattle of the wrought-iron gate being opened. They only snapped out of their own little bubble when they heard Sebastian's whistling as he caught them red-handed, followed by his quippy voice exclaiming, “Took you guys long enough!”

[popponn]

how one looks. [isagi yoichi x f!reader]

notes: this was born out of love and rage for his anime official arts' clothes because why is my man dressed like t h a t way too many times already... so i will bully him a bit (then feel bad about it. and it shows). other than that: fluff, yoichi got so sappy and so smitten for a hot sec, yoichi's fashion sense slander (and lets be honest. it deserves it. yoichi's plus point, many. negative point, his closet.)

“You know,” you began and Yoichi instantly felt like he was about to get a ball kicked to his face. “I had been thinking. Why do you look like an unfashionable grandpa sometimes?”

“…huh?” Yoichi responded, not really knowing how to answer to that. What should a guy do when their girlfriend of three years plus a half, who is also probably the love of their life, insinuate something about their appearance? Neither Blue Lock nor his parents prepared him for this.

With your eyes squinting at him, you leaned towards him from your seat in the armchair. One hand perched on the armrest and supported your chin as your face scrunched up from your thoughts. “I mean, I do think you are cute and handsome. Charming too,” you said.

Yoichi tried not to melt. Years passed and he is still weak whenever you praise him out of blue like this. From his parents to his teammates to Noel Noa knew about this—so, in attempt to be normal, Yoichi tried to kept everything under a soft smile directed to you only, “Gosh. You know, you are—”

“Hey, this is about you not me. Shush, shush,” you scolded him lightly with a finger pressed to his lips. This time, Yoichi could only blinked absentmindedly as you continued in a serious manner, “But, you see, if I look at you properly without bias—I wonder why I could think like that.”

It was at this point Yoichi realized you were trying to call him not cute, not handsome, and not charming in a very roundabout way. Again, confused on how to react to things like this, he said, “…uh?”

You were not Rin, Barou, Kaiser or anyone he shared competitive trash talking with hell and back—and even calling him ‘ugly’ really was tame to the shits spitted out straight at his face. You were never like this and Yoichi knows since the four years ‘unclear situationship’ period that his appearance really does not matter to you who would look at him gently even with his face dressed in odd drawings courtesy of Bachira’s oil markers. With that being said, he really didn’t understand what was going on.

“Your hair is honestly generic. Like, I really get why Rin said he called you NPC back then,” you explained and Yoichi tried not to wince. “Oh, but don’t change it! If it changes, especially without me knowing beforehand, I probably won’t recognize you. Though what’s a bit unique about them are probably only your sprout and bangs…kind of?”

In silence and in attempt to be a good boyfriend, Yoichi could only nod.

“And then, your fashion sense…” you continued, pity coloring your face, “…actually, where do I start on that one? I think that one part of you is so hopeless it kind of turn around to cute… in a really naive and stupid way though.”

For a moment, Yoichi remembered how he used to think in Blue Lock some people could be very harsh in commenting. Turns out, listening to your girlfriend obliterating you appearance wise is a whole another level of ego bruising experience. “Now, come on, you know I’m not good at those mix matching thing…” he admitted with pain in his voice. Because at this point what could he do?

“Of course I know,” you said as if he was saying that sky is blue. “I mean, remember how I used to tease you about ‘all point in soccer and social skill, zero in others’?” Yoichi doubted that it was all ‘teasing’. At this moment, it felt like lighthearted bullying. “I’m not exactly a hundred percent kidding, you know.”

At least he saw this one coming.

“Ugh, what brought this on suddenly, seriously?” Yoichi asked with a groan. Did he do something? He didn’t forget an anniversary or something, right?

You hummed, before answering hesitantly, “Hmm…nothing much actually?”

“So you just said all that for no reason?!” he cried out, not actually buying you answer. At that, you stayed silent for a moment.

“…actually, it’s because I saw a photo of you online, not the most recent, I think,” you finally admitted, your eyes slowly drifting away from his face. “…your clothes was so ugly there I felt like burning your closet suddenly.”

“Please don’t,” Yoichi said quickly, before prompting you to continue. “And?”

“…it’s a waste,” you continued. “You are handsome, cute. Your eyes look good when you are focused. You are like a really handsome cat who is really good at soccer. But you dress like an unfashionable grandpa who really loves neon green sometimes, so it’s a waste.”

Listening to your explanation, both fondness and exasperation overcame Yoichi in a wave that felt like a pleasant breeze compared to whatever you just dished out to him seconds ago. “Don’t burn my closet though,” Yoichi said, utterly serious and yet somehow still couldn’t find it in himself to be even be a little stern on you after such honest praises.

Suddenly feeling a bit shy and tired, Yoichi buried his face in his hands. He knew for sure his face was red. And he knew how obviously weak he is for you. From the back of his mind, he could hear some familiar voices poking at him for being like this, but in the end there will always be a part of him that is so in love with you it becomes straight up stupid.

Maybe it indeed is so dumb and selfish, because as long as you are happy and it is a time shared with him, Yoichi probably wouldn’t really mind having to listen to you calling him an ‘unfashionable grandpa’ everyday.

He, more than anyone, understands how the two of you has dreams and life that took the two of you away from each other. And even then, Yoichi knows that that one part of him—one that always gaze at your sleeping figure silently, wondering how he could have this and why someone as wonderful as you is here by his side—is rightfully fearful of a ‘bad ending’. Yoichi knows you love him. Yoichi knows he loves you. Yoichi got called selfish, egoistic, self centered, and self serving many times already in matches, and that is exactly why—he knows himself.

If it’s for you—for every part of life you had given to him, for every part of you that he had fallen in love with—he is ready to be as selfless as he could.

Happily and gladly.

“Hey, you have been silent for a while now.” A pair of hands warped itself around him, meekly, as your head rested on his back. “…sorry. Was I too much? I made you overthink, didn’t I? You know I still love you, right? Even if you suddenly wake up as a wrinkly grandpa with creaking knees tomorrow.”

Yoichi laughed at that, still covering part of his face. “I don’t want to retire yet so that better not happen,” he replied lightly, going along with you.

“…you are not crying, right?” you asked, guilt written all over your tone. Yoichi tried and failed to held back a chuckle. So, accepting his fate as a lovesick asshole, he turned and pushed you to the sofa, laying his face down on your stomach as he settled in an uncomfortable position to hug you.

Yet, without paying any mind to his lower body that remained sitting whilst upper body rested on you, Yoichi said, “I’m not. How could I with you hugging me like this?”

“…really?”

“Really.”

“…should we really stay like this any longer though…?” you asked, eventually. “I’m worried for your hips.”

“I’m fine,” Yoichi said while nuzzling his face slowly to your clothes. “Just think of this as payback for bullying me.”

You scoffed lightly at that, “And you said you were fine.”

“Yeah, I am,” Yoichi said as he felt your fingers combed through his hair. So much for commenting his hairstyle. He made a note to tease you later, but for a bit longer—

“Just, let me stay here, okay?”

[jerzwriter]

a little jealous - Tobias x Casey HC

It took me three years to tell the story of how my messy kids finally got together. By the time they did, they were so in love with a solid foundation of friendship beneath them. The honeymoon period was intense; however, nothing is perfect, and transitioning from friends to so much more comes with its challenges. So, I decided it was time to finally write those stories, too. The first story was Money, Money, and this is the second. I have one, possibly two, more remaining.

Book: Open Heart (Late Book 2 Timeline) Pairing: Tobias Carrick x Casey MacTavish (F!MC) Featuring: Sienna Trinh, Terrance Mendoza, minor OCs Rating: Teen Words: 3,700 Summary: Newly together, Tobias and Casey are as happy as can be. But when Tobias's past keeps interrupting their present, Casey begins to struggle. Tobias thinks a little jealousy is cute at first, but as time goes on, both of them are having difficulty dealing with the situation. He can't change his past, so how do they get past it?

Tobias x Casey Masterlist Open Heart Masterlist Full Masterlist

“Tobias? Tobias, is that you?”

Effortlessly commanding attention was Tobias’s specialty, and he seemed to do it wherever he went. Tonight, as he sauntered through a posh Boston club tonight, a place to see and be seen, it was clear that he was in his element. His hand-fitted designer suit and contrasting silk shirt - unbuttoned just enough to tease at the sculpted masterpiece that lay underneath - could have been fresh off of any runway. With his enchanting smile firmly in place and his crystal blue eyes surveying the crowd, it was no wonder so many felt their attention turning his way.

In the not-too-distant past, he would have been glowing. Reveling in the attention, he would have been assessing each admirer to select his desired target for the night. There is no way he would have missed the raven-haired beauty now pushing her way through the crowd of revelers to be by his side; by now, he would have been determining how long it would take to get her out of that emerald green and gold dress that left little to the imagination. It wouldn’t have taken him long. But times had changed, and Tobias had only one objective this evening: joining his beautiful girlfriend at the table he reserved on the other side of the room.

But what he easily overlooked was impossible for Casey to miss. Her eyes followed the tall, slender beauty rushing to reach the man Casey now claimed as her own. The woman’s long, voluminous curls fell over her bare shoulders, stopping just before her décolletage. The way her copper skin glowed under the pulsating lights was downright ethereal. Casey was more than well aware of her boyfriend’s reputation, and she knew several of the beauties that made up the story of his colorful past, but this one, she was exquisite. A Praxiteles sculpture come to life that could rival any of the goddesses the master had created. Tobias may have been oblivious to her, but Casey was painfully aware.

“Tobias!” The woman yelled, pulling him into an entirely too close embrace the moment he spun around. Snagged only yards away from the table where Casey sat.

 “Mia,” he smiled pleasantly. “How are you? It’s been a long time!”

“Far too long,” she purred, her manicured hand resting on his arm as her eyes trailed over him. “You look delicious as always! How have you been?”

“Looking good yourself,” he grinned. “I’ve been good. Better than good, actually.”

“Really?” Mia winked. “I hope your next words will be because you ran into me.” Her smile was so inviting that it was impossible to misinterpret its intention.  

“Oh,” Tobias replied, quickly jerking backward. “Uh.. actually... I’m here with someone tonight.”

Casey remained seated at the table, her face bereft of any emotion. She credited the vodka and tonic she brought to her lips for that. Now, if it would just help her stop scolding herself for the jealousy that was burning to the surface inside her.

Let it go, Casey. She told herself. His past is his past; besides, you should be used to this by now.

She rose to her feet and closed the short distance between them, looping her arm into Tobias’s the second she reached his side.

“You’re finally here,” Casey gushed, placing a delicate kiss on his cheek. “I was getting lonely waiting for you.” She was quite capable of making her intentions clear as well.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “Our favorite patient got out of surgery just as I was leaving the hospital, and I wanted to check in on him before I left.”

“Probably for the best,” Casey agreed.

“Your patient?” The woman asked. “Are you co-workers?”

“Yes,” Casey smiled, turning to the woman who had made Tobias her prey. “We work together at Edenbrook.”

“Well, it goes beyond that,” Tobias added. “Casey, allow me to introduce you to Mia. Mia, this is my girlfriend, Casey.”

Mia. Casey didn’t recall that name among his list of paramours, and she noted that he failed to mention his relationship to her, but that was probably for the best. She extended her hand as shock and disappointment registered on Mia’s face.

“Mia, it’s lovely to meet you.”

“Oh, same,” she stammered. “Uhm, girlfriend...huh?” Her eyes met Tobias’s with a flash of anger. “I thought you didn’t do that sort of thing.”

“I didn’t,” he shrugged. “But now, I do.”

“Hmm. This should make for an interesting social experiment,” she taunted. With a glance at Casey, she shot a curt smile. “Well, good luck to you.” And with a wink at Tobias, she was gone.

Casey made her way back to the banquette, and Tobias slid in beside her, hoping that exchange wouldn’t dampen the evening. He draped his arm around Casey’s shoulders; his fingers toyed with the thin strap of rhinestones that held up her pale blue dress in place. Now, he was determining how long it would be before the beautiful frock would litter his bedroom floor... some things never changed. But this time, he didn’t want her out of it too soon; he wanted to have fun with her, show her off to the world. Ravishing her back at his place could wait just a little bit.

“Have I told you how irresistible you look tonight,” he growled into her ear, sending shivers down Casey’s spine.

That voice.

She wondered if he knew how quickly it rendered her speechless, how it made her question the necessity of every article of clothing on her body. When he began to trace little circles on her skin, the memory of the bronze goddess was pushed out of Casey’s head for good, or at least for now.

“Oh, uhm... no,” Casey replied. With a lustful little grin on her lips, she wrapped her arms around his neck and spoke into his ear. “You haven’t, but I’d love for you to tell me more.”

~~~~~

This wasn’t the first time they bumped into one of his former lovers. Nor was it the second or even the third. Casey had lost count and was beginning to wonder if they’d need to move out of Boston to go an entire day without running into someone.

There was the effusive pharmaceutical representative who just happened to stop by his office the day Casey was meeting Tobias for lunch. Her sultry laughter echoed down the hall as Casey approached, and she’d never forget the way the smile fell from the voluptuous brunette’s ruby-red lips when Tobias stood to greet her with a kiss, quickly introducing her as his girlfriend.

“Another ex-girlfriend?” she asked, purposely keeping her voice jovial, though it didn’t match the feelings welling inside.

“I wouldn’t exactly call her a girlfriend,” Tobias chuckled.

“Another ex-fuck buddy?” She asked, this time her intonation was more terse.

“She and I just... wait,” Tobias stopped. With a smug grin, he pulled Casey close. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous, baby?”

Her eyes fell to the floor, he body betraying her as her cheeks turned bright pink. She felt foolish. She knew it was stupid and didn’t know how to answer. Tobias noticed her discomfort and was eager to pull her out of it; he gently touched her chin, tilting her face in his direction.

“Case, please tell me you’re not really jealous—because as adorable as you look all pink and perturbed, you know you’re the only person in the world I want, right?”

“Pink and perturbed?” She blurted in an attempt to deflect from the topic. “What’s that, the name of some cheezy porno?”

“No,” he laughed, kissing her gently to ward off any further embarrassment. “It’s not. So, where am I treating my gorgeous girlfriend to lunch? I told you, you pick this time.”  

Casey pushed her feelings away as they walked down the hospital hallway, arm in arm. They were together at long last and deliriously happy. The man adored her, so why was she letting this bother her? It seemed each time she felt she was getting past it, someone else would pop up: the adorable young woman with green eyes and a reddish-brown bob who squealed when she spotted Tobias in Whole Foods. The blonde with the bouncy ponytail they came across while jogging in the Seaport. The smoky-eyed bartender who served them drinks at his co-worker’s wedding.

Each time, it ended the same way: Casey became sullen, Tobias went out of his way to assure her, and she promised herself she’d let it go... until it happened again.

“It has to end sometime, right?” She said, shoving a spoonful of Haagen-Dasz Belgian double chocolate ice cream into her mouth. “At some point, I will have to have run into everyone he’s ever slept with, and this will end, right?”

Sienna looked up from the book she was reading on the other side of the couch. “I don’t know. I don’t know what his number is, but even if it's in the hundreds, the truth is you’ll eventually stop running into them if you’re planning on being with him a long time, never mind if I use the other F word.”

“The other F word?” Casey asked.

“Forever,” Sienna winked. She reached over and took her friend’s hand. “Casey, you knew his reputation... and you still fell in love with him. This isn’t like you. You’ve never judged anyone for their sexual choices, and you’ve always been so confident. Unless you suspect any of these women are potentially current lovers, and I doubt that’s the case, why is this bothering you so much?"

Casey tossed the empty container of ice cream and her spoon onto the coffee table, the spoon hitting it with a loud clang. “That’s the thing!” Casey spat. “I don't know. It is in the past, and this is unlike me... I hate that I feel this way, but I feel helpless to control it. I think I’m over it, then another would-be-fucking-model appears all but oozing with desire for another go-round, and I feel like shit all over again."

“How does Tobias react when these things happen?” Sienna asked.

“Tobias isn’t the problem. Yeah, sometimes he’s a little flirtatious, but he’d be a little flirtatious talking to a doorknob. That’s just who he is. I’m not threatened by that.”

“Do you feel threatened at all?”

“I don’t know,” Casey sighed, her shoulders falling as she exhaled. “But I hate feeling this way.”

“Have you told Tobias about this?”

“No,” she insisted. “And I don’t plan on. It’s stupid, and I don’t want to look like a jealous little twit.”

“But if you’re in a relationship, you need to be honest. He should know how this makes you feel. Promise you’ll think about it?”

Casey agreed and hugged her friend. Mumbling something about not having any more ice cream under her breath as she shuffled off to bed.

~~~~~

The following morning, Tobias picked Casey up as planned. Handing her a single long-stemmed rose when she opened the door.

“For me?” she smiled bashfully.

“Who else?” he grinned, his face lit up the way it always did when she appeared, and as their lips came together in a slow, passionate kiss, all felt right with the world.  

“So, where are you taking me?” Casey asked.

“The Mission. It’s just a hole-in-the-wall bar near Kenmore, but they have the most incredible Sunday brunch. Trust me, you’re going to love it!”

“By Kenmore? Is anyone joining us?”

“Terrance will be there,” he replied. “A few other co-workers, too. It’s the kind of place where people just show up, and you never know who will join you. But that works great for me.”

“It does?” She asked as they reached the car. “Why?”

Gently pushing her against the passenger door, Tobias brushed the hair from her face and brought their lips to hers once more. He pulled away with that glow and smile firmly in place.

“Why? Because it took us long enough to get here. Now that you’re mine, I want to show you off to the whole world. Can you blame me?”

“Nah,” Casey blushed, straightening the lapels on his jacket. “I supposed I can’t.”

They were seated at the bar, and Casey had to admit Tobias was right. Her eggs benedict were near perfection, and Tobias’s Belgian waffles weren’t too shabby either. She wished she knew Terrance and the other Kenmore friends a little bit better, because she would have happily swiped some of their food, too. The atmosphere was loud and boisterous; it reminded her of a more polished Donahue’s, and sitting there with Tobias at her side, Casey couldn't have been more content.

“How are your eggs benedict?” Terrance asked. “I’ve never had them here.”

Casey looked up, her eyes wide. This was her chance! “They’re wonderful! And, if you’re willing to part with a piece of your French toast, I’ll gladly trade you for some of mine.”

A smile spread on Terrance’s face as he broke off a piece of his French toast, silently putting it on Casey’s plate. He looked at Tobias, nodding with approval. “I like her! A woman who knows what she wants and makes sure it happens!"

“Hey!” Casey playfully interrupted. “I gave you something in return. I was nice about it!”

“Exactly!” Terrance replied, his eyes shutting tight as he bit into the eggs benedict. “God, they’re delicious!” He said before returning to his original point, "And that’s why I like you.”

“Yeah,” Tobias beamed, pulling Casey closer to him. “Well, I like her a whole lot more.”

“Agh!” Melissa, a chestnut-haired nurse around Tobias’s age, gagged. “You two are too sweet! Who the hell is this man, and what did he do with our Tobias?”

“Yeah,” Terrance laughed. “You have to understand, Tobias marching into being a happily monogamous man has been a huge shock for us. You must be one hell of a woman.”

“I assure you, she is,” Tobias grinned.

“She has to be!” Melissa laughed as she animatedly counted the people around them. “You’ve dated at least a half-dozen people here... that I know of... many have tried and failed to get to your position, Casey,” she smiled and raised her mimosa. “Hats off to you.”

Casey smiled politely. She knew they meant no harm, but now all she could do was look around the room and wonder who it was. Which of these women had felt his hands on their bodies and knew how intoxicating it felt when he focused all his attention on them, no matter how long it lasted? How many had slept on the mattress she now spent most nights on, waking up under his covers, blissful in his arms, before playfully stumbling to the shower for another round that they’d never forget?  

She ordered another drink and did her best to remain cordial, but her mood shifted, and while the others may have been oblivious, Tobias noticed. He asked her if she was all right when they returned to his car. Once again, she insisted everything was fine. But the ride was marred with an unusual silence that no amount of music could erase. After parking the car, they walked to his house when a pretty young woman walking a Shih Tzu smiled his way.

“Morning, Tobias,” she smiled, nodding at Casey.

“Hey, Mary! Good seeing you,” he replied. "You too, Shotzie!"

They had barely taken a few steps away when Casey asked. “So, did you fuck her, too?”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Casey replied with a frown.

Tobias took a deep breath of the warm summer air and exhaled slowly. “I know I have a reputation, Casey... but I didn’t sleep with everyone we bump into.”

“Really?” She replied, dropping her hand from his as they reached his door. “Because sometimes it sure feels that way.”

Tobias lingered by the doorway as Casey stepped inside, tossing her purse on a side table before plopping down on his couch. Her expression was a complex mix of self-reproach, frustration with him, and reluctant acceptance. Tobias’s face transformed rapidly, moving from shock to annoyance and finally to determination in mere seconds. He locked the door, and the sound of his keys clattering against the marble table echoed through the room.

“All right, this can’t continue. Casey, we need to talk.”

She sat on the edge of the couch, nervously twisting a strand of her hair. She loved him, and he was right—they did need to talk. But those were the four most dreaded words in the English language, and right now, she felt like their first conflict was all her fault. Tears welled in her eyes when Tobias knelt before her, his eyes full of concern and love.

“Casey, what’s bothering you? When you started acting a little jealous here and there, I honestly thought it was endearing. Maybe it’s stupid, but I’ve never meant that much to anyone before, and it was nice to feel like I mattered enough for jealousy to be a real thing... but now I can see it’s not cute. It’s making you feel uneasy, and it’s making me feel like you don’t trust me, and none of this is good. So, how do we get past it?”

“Tobias, I know you have a past; we both do, even if yours is a little more colorful than mine. It never bothered me, but lately, I feel like we'll need to leave the state if I want to go a day without running into one of your former lovers, and it’s harder than I expected it to be. Especially when it’s obvious that they would love another chance at you.”

“Hon,” he said, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “You know you have nothing to worry about, right? No one is a threat to you.”

She took a deep breath, her eyes meeting his. “I know that, and I trust you, but seeing these women all the time... and they’re all so beautiful, so perfect... and sometimes all I can think of is that there is no way I can be enough for you. I wonder how long it will be before you think so, too, and it hurts. I know it’s irrational, and it’s not fair to you. You’ve done nothing to make me feel this way. It’s only me feeling like I’m... inadequate, and I’m mad at myself for even feeling this way.”

“Your feelings are never irrational, Case. They’re real and valid. You’re also the only thing that matters to me, so what can I do to help you feel more secure?”

“I don’t know, I just feel like I can’t compete with them.”

“You’re right... because there is no competition, and if there were trust, you’d win.”

She looked at him, and the sincerity and concern in his eyes warmed her heart but also filled her with guilt. Tears welled up as she lowered her head.

“I don’t know. I guess I need reassurance sometimes, but I hate asking for it. I’m usually so much more confident than this, and I don’t want to seem needy.”

“You’re not needy. You’re human,” Tobias said softly. “Plus, you’ve dealt with so much in this past year. You have no idea how much you amaze me. You're so strong, and I hate to see you doubt yourself, especially if it’s on my account.”

“No, Tobias,” she interrupted. This is a me problem—one hundred percent a me problem."

“Well, maybe, but that doesn't mean I'm not here for you. I love you, and I chose you. My past is just that – the past. You are my present, and I hope you’ll be my future, too.”

He let out a soft chuckle, and Casey looked at him with questioning eyes. “What?”

“If it makes you feel any better, sometimes I could use some reassurance, too.”

“You?” She astounded. “You’re the most confident person I know. You feel insecure? When?”

“Hey, it happens,” he smiled, sitting next to her and taking her in his arms. “I’m nearly forty, and yeah, I’ve had a lot of... flings... in my life, but love... the real deal? This is brand new to me. You know it scared the hell out of me at first, and even though it doesn’t anymore.... sometimes I have to wonder if I’m doing it right.”

“Oh, honey. You’re doing it so right. You’re so good to me, and I feel so loved.”

“And do I measure up?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. Casey pulled back, her brows knit together.

“Measure up? To who?”

“Look, I don’t care how many people you slept with before me. You’re with me now, and I’m not worried about that. But you had something with others that I never had... you had love. And because you have this big heart, most of the people you loved are still in your life.”

“Tobias, they may be in my life, and yeah, I suppose I still love them... but not in that way any longer... not in the way that I love you.”

“I know that,” he smiled. “Rationally, I know that. But this love thing... it’s something that I’ve only shared with you, and, now and then, a little bit of self-doubt creeps in, and... when that happens, I could use reassurance, too.”

“I... I never would have thought... you don’t have to worry about that, Tobias. You're the love of my life, and I want this to last forever."

“I do, too," He smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “So why don’t we talk to each other when we’re feeling a little off? We’re a team now, remember? We can work through anything as a team."

Casey nodded, feeling the weight lifting from her shoulders. “Yes, we can. And I promise to talk to you instead of letting things eat at me in the future.”

“That’s all I ask,” he replied, pulling her into a comforting embrace. “We’ve got a great thing, kid. We’ll get through this; I know we will.”

She rested her head on his shoulder, feeling nothing but warmth in his embrace. “So, what’s your opinion on this love thing?” she asked with a little grin.

“Heh,” he chuckled. “It’s wild... a bit of a rollercoaster ride, but honestly, it’s the best thrill of my life. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

“It is like a rollercoaster,” she agreed. “But you know what my favorite part of rollercoasters is? The way we hold on tight and don’t let go.”

A bright grin spread across his face, and he held Casey as close as he could. “Trust me, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I will never, ever let go.”

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[sturnzyolo]

Shadows

Matt Sturniolo x fem reader

Warnings: fluff, swearing, a little eerie scenery, crying, stress, bullying mention, comfort, anxiety, and slight obsession (anything else will be added in later parts)

slight summary/teaser: reader feels a significant connection to a particular classmate of hers, her teacher's favorite student. One day, when on her way home, she hears something.

⚠️ my first ever fic so don't hate if it's absolute shit although I take honors english + I will NOT be writing any smut, (sorry u horndoggaroonies) bc I believe my digital footprint is terrible as is, so. let's not add onto it!

(This part is mainly created on my computer so if anything's fucked up ill fix it on my phone)

PART 1

3rd person POV?

Matt didn't understand why he was so favored in his calculus class, he wasn't a nerd, although he seemed like one with his glasses and button-ups. It wasn't like he got every answer right, no not at all. He barely even paid attention in class, his mind wanders instead.

Mr. Robinson has always been overly kind to Matt, he would have him stay after class or during passing period just to talk about how Matt was doing. Matt would constantly get a run down about Mr. Robinson's son having terrible anxiety. Maybe that's why he was so easy on Matt and favorited him, he most likely just reminded his teacher of his son, which seems more like pity. Matt usually would find this behavior odd, most teachers didn't even know Matt was in their class til he asked to go to the nurse, bathroom, office, or if there was any group project, he'd always be picked last by some group who didn't have enough members.

He noticed y/n looking at him in class, only from time to time of course, he found it weird how someone could be paying attention to him, then again he just thought she was making fun of him in her head.

Bullying wasn't like it was in the movies, for Matt, it was just whispers and stares. Kids would laugh as he passed, most called him the teacher's pet if they shared calculus with him. He mainly stuck to himself, somedays he didn't even show up, if it was just staying at home to do work online or going to an early therapy session.

Y/N POV

May 13th, 2024

(let's pretend their 18, in their senior year in 2024)

A dreadful Monday morning, Matt was wearing a collared white and blue striped button up with dark tan cargo pants. I watched him walk up to his seat in calculus class, nobody spoke to him except Mr. Robinson, giving an overly cheerful, "Goodmorning Matthew" as he headed in. Matt only muttered a tired "morning" as he threw his backpack next to his desk and leaned into his chair while he sat.

Class went as normal throughout his lecture. Honestly, I could've fallen asleep, for once I understood the material, so I found paying attention quite useless.

"Matthew what's the answer to page 347 question 9?" Mr. Robinson said abruptly

I practically jumped out of my seat, he never called on Matt, and I was shocked he finally did. I looked over to see Matt, knocked completely out of his daze, I guess he didn't expect the sudden call out either.

Matt fiddled with his pencil nervously as Mr. Robinson waited for an answer, yet he was only met with "Um's" and "Uh's" out of Matt.

I kicked Matt's ankle gently, I covered my mouth loosely as I whispered the answer, which I had to quickly figure out. I felt awkward in the moment just watching it, so I couldn't bare it lasting any longer.

Matt nervously repeated my words with stumbles, which I was even shocked that it was correct. Mr. Robinson seemed proud with a nod and a slight smile "Correct, amazing work Matthew"

Even with the praise he still seemed nervous, he was still anxious from the awkward occurance that had all the eyes laid onto him.

He turned back to me slightly, whispering a soft "thank you" before he sat up and tried to compose himself

"No problem" I said back quietly, although my voice was practically a loud speaker to Mr. Robinson, who almost instantly snapped his cold gaze towards me

"Ms. Y/L/N stop the talking back there or you're going to the office" he demanded in a very threatening tone

I never left it alone whenever I was unfairly called out, Mr. Robinson knew this, and I swear he did it to get a rise out of me.

"Sir I wasn't even talking!" I called out

"Well you are now so zip it or you're out." He argued

I scoffed "You always target me, I barely even opened my mouth sir, besides you shouldn't talk to a student that way if you're always pushing us to respect you when you don't even return it!" I don't know why I argued, it's pointless and I knew that

"I can talk to you however I like, get out of my class!" He yelled. I sighed and packed my things before throwing my bookbag over my shoulder and walked straight out of class. I gave Mr. Robinson a glare but he wasn't even looking, I dont know what I did for him to hate me but love Matt.

I stepped out into the hallway and slumped down the wall midway to the office, I didn't want to go. Besides nobody would even notice or care. I heard the classroom swing open, I quickly stood up thinking it was Mr. Robinson. But it wasn't.

Matt came out instead, "why's he out here" I thought, I decided it was a perfect chance to finally speak to him

"Shit you scared me, I thought you were the teacher" I said as I looked at him with a slight smile

"Oh sorry I didn't mean to scare you, uhm but thank you again for helping me back there with the question." Matt said lowly in somewhat of a nervous mumble

"No worries, I could tell you looked a bit lost. So why does Mr. Robinson favor you so much out of everybody, I was just curious." I finally was ready to hear the answer, I always thought they maybe were related somehow but then again it didn't seem like it and the school would separate them anyway.

"Uh well I think it's cause I remind him of his son, I barely even know the answer to that. I find it just as weird as everybody else does, people think I'm a teachers pet because of it." He admitted as he nervously tugged as his clothes, which I noticed.

"Oh, well I should probably go to the office since Mr. Robinson's most likely going to call them and ask if I showed up, bye matt, I'll see you in class" I said

"Bye y/n, im sorry for getting you in trouble" the last half of what he said barely was audible to me with the quiet tone he used as I walked away to the office

I already have an idea of where this story is leading & I'm guessing it'll only take at most 4 parts to get there, I just feel bad stuffing one part with so much. Also if the writing & dialogue suck it's bc I rushed this SORRY 😔

THIS PART IS RLLY BORING I PROMISE THE NEXT IS SM BETTER‼️

PART 3 OUT NOW

[sleeepy-sim]

Hi!! If your taking requests for donnie darko, can i give you an idea?

Imagine love at first sight with him in a library!!!! It can be fluff, smut, dddne or whatever youre comfy writing! Thank you<3

So sorry this took me so long. I do have to admit I'm not good at writing 'love at first sight' but I did do my best. Working on the other requests as well!

I also did not put any NSFW because . . . well its a library and I didn't feel like dragging it on.

It had been a free hour, with all your friends busy with a class, so you sat in the library. Usually, you either did your missing work or homework, though sometimes you said ‘screw it, I can do it at home.’ But today, you had decided to do your English project that you put off a couple of days back. 

So there you sat, towards the end of the library, working on your English project. You hadn’t noticed him, nor had you noticed his stare from a couple of tables up. Though anyone paying attention—unlike you—would have noticed his gaze; it was hard to miss.

After a moment of frustration of not knowing where to start on the project, you looked around the room, only to meet someone's gaze. His short black hair seemed to either be a little overgrown or messy, for his hair hung a bit on his forehead. 

His blue eyes quickly darted down to the book on top of the desk, putting his head down - face out of sight. You did the same, eyes back on your paper. After a moment of overthinking the situation, you sneak a glance. 

Again, only to see him also stealing a glance. Your eyes widen, shooting back down to your paper. After a moment of not moving - due to overthinking he was watching your every move, you look up as you hear the chair in front of you, scrap across the floorboards. 

You take a deep breath as you watch the ‘mysterious’ guy sit in front of you - your heart beating a little faster, from the awkwardness or how hot you noted he was - you’re not sure. You grip the paper in your hand a little tighter, the nagging feeling in your gut from what is going to happen from this moment and the next. 

“Hey,” He awkwardly smiles, nodding his head as he looks at the paper in your hands and on the table before looking at you - taking your features in. You swallow, afraid your voice may crack due to not talking for the last 20 minutes - and not wanting to seem like a loser in front of a hottie.  

“Hey,” You nod, the awkwardness of not knowing what to say nor what to do - sinking into your bones. You look at his book for a moment before looking back at him - not wanting to seem like a creep. 

“You have Ms. Pomeroy, right?” He asks, tilting his head a bit as his gaze continues to look you over before settling back on looking at your face. 

“Uh . . .” You trail off, surprised by the question and his accurate assumption. You lightly suck on your bottom lip, nodding - a questioning look on your face. “Yeah, I do.” You say, nodding your head with your eyebrow slightly raised on ‘how do you know this.’ 

“I have her right after 6th period. I uh, I saw you leave one time.” He says, looking a bit to the side as he probably realized just how creepy that sounded. You lightly chuckle at his sentence, shifting in your seat for a new position. 

“I’m sorry. That sounds weird.” He awkwardly chuckles, looking around - probably to see if anyone heard that or to break the now even more awkward encounter. You quickly shake your head - a small smile on your lips as his awkwardness was cute - even if it matched yours. 

“No, I get it.” You smile at him as he leans over the table - face more closer to your own. He smiles with appreciation and relief as you didn’t think he was ‘too’ much of a weirdo or creepo. He already knew the staring had put you off - with that sentence as soon as it left his lips he knew you would regret looking up. 

You take a deep breath as you both stare at each other in silence. Surprisingly, the silence was comforting, just looking into his eyes was intimate. Yet, for just meeting someone - who you didn’t even know his name - was making you more comfortable than anyone else had in a while. 

As if he read your mind, his hand reached just a little due to the closeness, out in front of you. “Donnie.” He smiles as you shake his hand, smiling back at him. You hand grips his - a little tight, but not tight enough to be considered ‘why did she squeeze tight?’ 

You tell him your name, your hands still moving from the on-going handshake. His hand was ruff, not in a way that said ‘I’ve been working for years’ but the hand that said ‘I don’t put lotion on that much.’ 

He smiles as he hears your name said from your lips, you both slowly unclasp hands. Your hands are now resting on your paper - now sitting on the table. His eyes dart down from your face to your hands - which leads to his next sentence. 

“Do you, uh, maybe want to work on the project together?” He says, motioning to your papers and notebook. You nod, thinking ‘thank goodness, i need help and desperately - but - what if he thinks I’m an idiot?’ 

“That would be great.” You smile awkwardly - not from the awkwardness from the two of you - that's long gone - but the worry of him thinking bad of you from the bareness amount you had for the impending project.   

You two had worked the whole period, from laughing and sneaking glances at each other. You couldn’t help but think ‘why haven’t I noticed him before?’. The bell rang, causing you two to look at each other in despair as everything was going so well and now you two have to separate. 

“Well . . .” Donnie chuckles, looking from you to the papers you two were working on. “Since we’re not done. I was thinking . . . maybe we could work on it after school?” He shrugs, slightly avoiding eye contact.

“Yeah, that, um, that would be great.” You smile at him as you stand up, shifting the papers into a neat pile. He smiles, licking his lips as he stands up as well - helping you with the papers. 

“Meet after school by the buses?” He shoots you a smile, slightly smirking. You smile back, nodding. 

“Sounds good.” You say as the two of you walk out of the library. He chuckles before smiling at you as he turns the corner, heading to his class.