#i hope to be able to say more when i play next but ahh schedules and jazz

[broth-y]

It's so nice to see you posting again!! I missed your content dearly :> I know you mentioned just starting V3, but do you have any faves so far, or just any characters you like?

hi!! it is equally nice to see a familar face in my inbox <3

as for v3 !! i really did Just start - i may have spent 2 hours of our call trying to get it to work on linux, to no avail - and the lovely girl i am playing with also did voices for the whole thing, so we are only partially through the prologue. all that is to say i do not know anyone well!!!

i absolutely love maki just because her design is emo <3 love me a black and red colour pallette on a mysterious character. also !! rantaro is ridiculous im 😳 i am in love with him. and abshs i am biased to ryoma because i love his VA dearly :')

i am looking forward to see more of gonta and tenko specifically !! i have been told i may not like tenko and that i will like gonta but, only time can tell.

also abshs i am sorry but i love miu iruma. vulgar girls in stem <3 me too girl.

sorry for my jumbled thoughts but thank you so so much for asking !!!!

[typicalopposite]

Shassie prompt- one of them is feeling sorry for themselves (make it as angsty of you'd like) but the other one comes in and tells them how great they find the other because it's the only way they know to help (bonus points if it's pre-slash and they're trying desperately not to add "and I love you" to the end of the reasons they like them because they think it's one sided while the other is like 'I didn't think I could fall for this guy any more but I just did')

Ok so… heh… this got a little longer than intended and became a full fic 👀 I’ll probably throw it on ao3 later!

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Lassie has been quiet…er than usual.

He’s never been a big conversationalist; unless, of course, you were talking about the law, or weapons, or that little revolutionary role play thing he’s into— that’s beside the point… He is overtly quiet today. He’s not clapping back at Shawn’s antics with his snark, and teasing… or threats. He honestly seems a little sad. 

It’s weird enough Shawn has asked if he was okay several times. He got an “I’m fine,” once; an “I said I’m ok, Spencer” the second time; then it was “if you ask me one more time I’m going to rip your foot off and shove it down your throat!” So Shawn stopped asking after that. But he still senses that Lassie is lying to him. 

He’s clearly bothered by something. It’s driving him crazy that isn’t able to deduce it down to anything. “You need to leave this alone,” Gus tries as he speed walks to keep up with Shawn. “Lassiter is going to kill you if he finds out you’re asking people about his business.”

“Gus… don’t be the little engine that couldn’t,” Shawn says before taking a sharp left into Chief Vick’s office and closing the door before Gus can get in.

He pulls the blinds closed, too, and spins on his heels; Vick is looking up at him from her mountain of paperwork. “Can I help you Mr. Spencer?”

“Uh— yeah, Chief,” Shawn says, giving her his brightest smile. “I’m hoping you can, anyway.” Shawn licks his lips trying to think of the best way to go about pleading with her to spill the Lassie-tea. “You see, you are so amazing at what you do. You run this department with such care and compassion… you have a good relationship with all the people who work under you. Heck I bet you even know all their juicy personal details.”

“You want me to tell you why Carlton seems off today.” 

“Oh my god, Chief! I didn’t know you were a little psychic too,” Shawn says with a grin. “But yes. I mean… you see it, don’t you? It’s driving me crazy!” 

She laughs, shaking her head and signs her signature on the form in front of her. “Mr. Spencer, I do—as you said—have a pretty good relationship with all the people who work under me. What makes you think I am just going to tell you about my head detective’s very personal and private business?” 

“Well—” Shawn says, pauses, and tries to think of a good reason she should tell him. “I just— I want to—”

“You want to help him,” she finishes. Shawn nods. “Yeah, well,” she says, with a laugh. “Couldn’t you just… find out from the spirits?” She cocks a brow and smirks. 

Shawn laughs. Shit. “Actually, well… unfortunately it doesn’t work like that. They tell me what they want to tell me. And they are far less appreciative of me coming to them for personal matters than you are…” 

“Ahh, I see…” Vick sets her pen down, and sighs. “Listen, when you go back out there… Can you ask Carlton to check his calendar and make sure he has his next scheduled evaluation with your mom written down, so he doesn’t forget it.” She lifts her brows, waiting for Shawn’s response. 

“Uh… yeah sure Chief,” he says. She smiles and nods towards the door, so he turns and walks back out into the bullpen. 

Gus is leaning against the wall, arms crossed and pouting. “Well, did she tell you anything?” 

“Actually… I think she did,” Shawn says, trying to wade through the confusion to the meaning for his given task. They make their way towards Jules desk, but Shawn stops first at Lassie’s; he notices Lassie's hands. How they are loosely clasped together as he watches a security clip from a robbery case he’s working on. One finger gently strokes the space in his left ring finger where a wedding band once sat. “Hey man, Chief said make sure you have your next appointment with my mom written down.” 

Lassie looks back at him like he’s just said the most outlandish thing ever. He shuffles through the mess on his desk, pulling his calendar from under the paperwork. “Don’t be ridiculous, of course I wrote it down… Faster I get it over with, the faster your mom can leave me the hell alone.” 

Shawn zeroes in on his calendar. There it is! Chief Vick, you sly dog. Today’s date is circled; Anniversary penned in Lassie’s nice and neat handwriting. 

~~~

Shawn and Gus hang around the station until everyone is leaving for the day. Not because Gus wants to… but because Shawn now has a plan and if it falls through—which is the more likely outcome—he needs Gus there to give him a lift back to the office. “What are we waiting for, Shawn?”

“Shhhhh,” Shawn hisses, watching the stairs for Lassie to finally come down. 

When at last the detective turns the corner he hears Gus suck his teeth next to him. “I told you to leave it alone, Shawn… he clearly isn’t going to—” Shawn is already crossing the room towards the stairs, he is vaguely aware of Gus saying he’s leaving without him. Oh well, he’ll just have to walk off the rejection then. He takes a deep breath and stops in front of Lassie. 

“What the— what do you want Spencer?” 

“Uh— erm— I just wanted to see if… you felt like going out for some drinks,” Shawn says, sticking his hands as far down his pockets as they will go.

Lassie narrows his eyes. “Who told you?” 

“Wha— hah— told me what? No one told me anything!” Lassie’s eyes burrow into him, and he can feel his face heating up. He goes to lift his hand to his temple, fully prepared to put on his whole bit to drag him out of this hole. Instead he drops his arm and sighs. “Look man, it doesn’t matter how I figured it out… What matters is me helping you get over this hump—which ironically is on hump day,” (it’s Wednesday) he laughs; Lassie does not. 

“I just want to go home, Spencer,” Lassie sighs. He seems too deflated to argue, otherwise Shawn is sure he wouldn’t let the whole ‘who told you’ thing go. “It’s been a long day. I’m tired… and I have to go home to an empty house and spend what was supposed to be a celebratory day alone; just another reminder that maybe she was right about me.” He exhales, long and slow, running a hand over his face. “Now I’m sitting here telling you all this like you even really care.” 

“I do,” Shawn says, maybe just a little too quickly; a little too enthusiastically. “Come on, Lassie! You got so much going for you, don’t let one person’s image of you get in the way. You are tall and dark—minus the few grays but we’re gonna ignore those—and hawt.” He says it in a playful voice to cover up the fact he very much means it. “You have the ability to crack jokes unintentionally and in the middle of an anger fueled insult.”

“These don’t seem very—”

“Aht, tut tut…” Shawn says, throwing up a finger in his face. “I’m not done!” Lassie groans and crosses his arms. “You are an amazing detective, and you genuinely care about justice… you just care with a very angry and uncaring stature. You’re smart, and talented—especially with a gun…

.

.

.

…you’re a good driver—although most cops are probably too scared of you to give you a ticket, that's beside the point.” 

“If I just agree to get that drink with you… will you please shut up?” Lassie asks. His arms are no longer crossed, and he actually has a soft smile on his face. “Good god you sound obsessed with me.”

Maybe I am… just a little. Shawn admits to himself. He can’t help it, he's practically head over heels in love with him after all. Not that Lassie would ever know that… or reciprocate it. “I— uhm— yeah, I’ll shut up now.” 

“Okay,” Lassie laughs—like, legitimately laughs—and Shawn’s insides do a cartwheel. He goes in his pocket, and groans. “Shit I left my keys on my desk. I’ll be right back.” 

“Okay— yeah— I’ll be— I’ll be here.”

Lassie turns and disappears up the stairs passing Vick on the way. She smiles, chuckling to herself as she descends. “Wow,” she says down to Shawn. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that look before.” 

“What look? Did he seem upset?” Shawn asks.  “No… he definitely did not seem upset,” Vick replies. “You two… have a good time.” She pats Shawn on the back and walks past him, not saying another word.

[yesyourstalker]

Neta: ok everything is set up. Just a couple interviews. Warabi!

Warabie: hmmmmmm

Neta: warabie

Warabie: hmmm what?

Neta: I need you to manage for a little until Mahi comes in. I forgot they had orientation today and they had no time to reschedule everyone. (Clap clap) [Signing] Seth, I know you have four clients scheduled today for piercing. Help warabie when you're able to.

Seth: cool

Warabie: hmmm My stomach still hurts from the tattoo and it's still healing.

Neta: *sigh* then sit down or lean across the counter. I don't know what you want me to do. You shouldn't have gotten that if you can't handle the pain yet.

Seth: I told you it wasn't good to do it all in one sitting, I could have scheduled you for another session. But I have to say you did take it like a champ

Neta: I have no time to argue with you I have interviews I have to get to. If someone asks for an interview to send them to the back of the office.........

___________________ interview one_______________

Neta: so what would be your greatest strength?

Naomi [inkling]: uhhhhh...ummm.... I ....I'm regsijtfh

Neta:....I'm sorry can you repeat that.....

Naomi: uh.....I'm.........................hm

Neta: take your time I'm in no rush.......... It says here on your resume that you're an artist you intern at inkpin publishing you worked on several mangas. That's pretty impressive want to tell me about that?

Naomi: uh....uhhhhh..........I'm sorry......[ Leaves]

Neta: oh.... wait! Uh...ok...*sigh* She left her phone. She'll be back maybe she calms down.. we can get somewhere.

_________________Interview two__________________

Neta: where do you see yourself in 5 years?

Vinny [betta fish] definitely not in prison again hahaha! Uhh ohh shit ummm.... Being serious in 5 years? Maybe a manager or an assistant manager of this store.

Neta: really? Ok.... You used to work in a kitchen

Vinny: it was more like a cafeteria but yeah I used to prepare the food I actually made the menus for the week. See I used to tell the corrections offic-uhhhh- I mean my head manager what they needed to order for the week so I can get my team to learn the recipes and to make them meals.

Neta: so you like cooking?

Vinny: not necessarily. I kind of got into it because I just wanted to belong and be a part of something and I didn't want to join a gang..so.....uh.....

Neta: uh huh

Vinny: I just really like that kind of busy work environment. It keeps me on my toes and keeps me preoccupied. I really work well in high stake environments and I like being involved with people who also enjoy that environment. I also really like music and I used to be in a punk band back in the day it was called D.I. DIE.... Kind of sounds like DIY like do it yourself-You get it.

Neta: That's interesting... What did you play?

Vinny: drums, I used to play drums. It was really good at it never played in a while. I hope Betty didn't sell my set after I got locked up

Neta: ok ........ All right. Here's the thing this interview was pretty decent..... Once the background check is complete. Expect a phone call.... Next week around Tuesday okay?

Vinny: really?

Neta: yep... We just need to do the background check and you're set

Vinny: ..... Right, my background check...uhhhhh about that

Neta: listen man... I don't judge. What you've done in the past I probably did worse. You came here, you applied for a job you passed the interview. It's very obvious that you want to turn over a new leaf. I'm willing to help you with that... Just expect the phone call and an email and will be....SET AHH

Vinny: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! HAHAHA

Neta: ah ha ok ok you can put me down now....hehe cod you're strong....

Vinny: I also took up weightlifting when I was inside.

_______________ interview three__________________

anemone:...........................

Neta:.................................... So.... What would you consider to be your greatest strengths

anemone:...ehhhh ...... I don't know...... My honesty I'm very honest person

Neta: ok ...... That's good.... Resume seems fine.... You said that you play guitar and you're in a band. Tell me about that

anemone: ugh..... I'm in a band and I play guitar That's it.

Neta:...................*sigh* shit he's one of those.......ok. in a group setting, how well do you work with-

anemone: okay let me just lay it straight to you. I'm available Monday through Thursday. I do not work Fridays. I'm available in the mid shift and closing shifts. I don't do mornings I never have and never will. You have my resume and my phone number you can call me on weekdays around 12 to 5 . After that I'm not picking up see Tuesday. Bye.

Neta:................................ .*sigh*........ We need more closers anyway.

__________________ interview four________________

Neta: what would you consider your biggest achievement

Fugue [puffer fish] My great is achievement? I would say I was one of the few to be picked to play at the scuba dome during the rainbow night symphony orchestra. I was one of the youngest only 15 at the time.

Neta: Yes That's very impressive. I actually read that in the paper you used to Seiche high of the arts. I'm trying to get my daughter into that school next year.

Fugue: yes that was me. Played the tuba It's a wonderful school. I'm sure she'd love it.

Neta: That's very impressive. So why do you want to work here?

Fugue: well I'm trying to save up to go to college I'm trying to get into Brackish University they have a really good music program.

Neta: Brackish!! get out of here! My fiance goes Brackish!

Fugue: oh I'm well aware, ikkan right? That's very impressive, he must have a good reputation. They don't really take back many people once they drop out. If it's too much to ask, what instrument did he play for his audition? I'm assuming it was a bass an upright one right?

Neta: you'd think that but he actually did play the bassoon. He's actually the only one in his marching band in high school to play the bassoon

Fugue: He must have been very skilled. You don't see that many bassoons in band.

Neta: yeah.. he's very talented and hard-working. Most of it was self-taught you know outside of school and everything

Fugue: yeah.... Are you self- taught?

Neta: yeah.. I taught myself... I used to watch music videos and I used to copy their- oh Man we're out of time. I'm sorry we trailed off. I didn't even get to finish the interview

Fugue: oh I'm sorry so do I reschedule or

Neta: nah... you have the job kid. You seem like a really good kid and you have a lot of head of you. I'll send you an email and call you Tuesday okay?

Fugue: thank you sir.

Neta: aw what fine young man. We need more kids like that in this world.

_______________________________________________

Neta: it seems to be everyone... I still need to do the baristas but I have to wait for AHhhhhhh.....uhhh Stefan, you're here..... Great.... You could have said something

Stefan [betta]: sorry.... I didn't mean to startle you.....so...... Let's talk I'm thrilled to be a part of this store expansion

Neta: right.... First, how are you doing? How's business?

Stefan: business is great. I finally have my coffee in Mako March. I never thought I'd seen my brand...................in a discount chain store...............umm

Neta: I mean hey! If it makes you feel better It's the most expensive one in there.

Stefan: well of course it is. It's the best quality coffee out there. It should be the most expensive........ Anyway, did you hire me a barista for the shop

Neta: yes.....well I do have a candidate for that store. They are my last interview. They should be here in........ Maybe 30 minutes ......

Stefan: um...

Neta:..........so............. How's your father?

Stefan: he passed finally

Neta: oh.... I'm sorry to hear that.

Stefan: don't be. Its what we all wanted.

Neta: Was it peaceful?

Stefan: it was. he went in his sleep.... We were all prepared for it to happen so we had everything ready.

Neta: yeah that's how my mom passed. My aunt told me she just closed her eyes, dozed off and just never woke up

Stefan: and that's all we can ask for, no pain no suffering just go, when you're ready, you're ready...... I buried him with his prize possession

Neta: let me guess a coffee machine-

Stefan: A stove top espresso and coffee maker

Neta: of course

Stefan: it was his first ever coffee maker and used to make My mother and I coffee with that every day till the day he died. He cherished it like it was a child, Unlike how he cherished me.

Neta: oh...ok that's uh

Toguni: excuse me. I'm here for the interview for the barista job

Stefan: he's early..... Very Punctual

Neta: Right you must be ehhhhhhhh.......... Toguni!! You're the one I sent the email to!

Stefan: hello you must be my apprentice

Toguni: oh uh...wow your...

Stefan: Stefan the reinventor of coffee. Yes I know. Nice to meet you. sit down please I insist make yourself come through right next to me.

Toguni: Yes sir

Neta: well thank you for showing up today the interview will be short and simple I just want to get to know you and you're just going to answer some questions-

Stefan: Tell me what's your relationship with coffee?

Neta: Stefan

Toguni: un-

Stefan: what is your favorite type of coffee?

Toguni: I love coffee

Stefan: what is your opinion on cold brew

Toguni: hu-

Stefan: if I give you three cups dark roast, medium roast and light roast, how fast could you tell them apart? And if abel can you tell me what brand of coffee I give you?

Toguni: iiiiiii

Neta: Stefan, you're making him nervous

Stefan: what is an Americano?. Huh what is that? That's a genuine question. What is an Americano like what is that? What does that even mean? Neta you know history? What is that?

Neta: the Americano is named after a location during the mammalian period it was the first to be destroyed during world war-

Stefan: I don't need to hear one of your history lectures!!!!

Neta: your the one who asked

Stefan: what is the difference between a cortado and a flat white

Toguni: oh! I can actually answer this-

Stefan: quiet! be quiet, shut your mouth and I've had enough.......................

Toguni: ..........

Stefan:........................ I like you.... You don't sound like you're from here. Where are you from?..... Don't answer that.... I like you. I really do

Tagami: * gasp* really so I'm hired

Stefan: no. Not yet. You need to make me a single cup of coffee. Your choice.

Neta: We have a coffee maker in the break room but it only uses K-Cups

Stefan: no, he's not making that type of coffee. That's what you call coffee is an insult and abomination and you need to be ashamed of yourself for even suggesting that we use that coffee machine!!... *Sigh*.... here's my house address. You shall show up to my house at 7:00 a.m. I have all the materials needed. You make me one cup of coffee and if I like it........ You're hired.

Toguni:.........uh.................yes sir you said 7?

Stefan: Great! Be there at 7:00. I'll see you then. I see a lot of potential in you. Good bye....

Toguni: ......... .. ......

Neta: I'm .....so sorry. He's a fucking weirdo I don't know why I agreed to work with him. Listen you don't have to do any of that if you don't want to... I can

Toguni: I can't believe I'm going to his house. I'm going to Stefan's you make him a cup of coffee. I thought this was just going to be like a crappy part-time job

Neta: hurtful

Toguni: I have to. I have to go home. I have to practice I have to .. Make coffee....bye thank you for the interview!

_______________________________________________

Neta:* inhale* * exhale*.......

anemone: that guy was a fucking weirdo

Neta: ...... yeah he is ....... Why are you still here?

anemone: I just wanted to see all the other freaks I have to work with....... And they're definitely freaks *huff*

Neta: well, you're going to have to tolerate them.... Hey, maybe after a couple days you might actually like some..... Maybe you can let go of this mean facade you have on and actually make friends.

anemone: I have friends

Neta: ehhhh I don't believe you ... Trust me this whole 'thing' that you have going on, that's how I wasted my teenage years. Trust me.

anemone: *humpf*

Neta: *sigh* I still have that Naomi girls phone wonder if she's-

Naomi: I'm back! I'm sorry I panicked....uhhhhh I uh i.........

Neta:...........

anemone: heh...

Naomi [faces away. Eyes closed] .....*sigh* One of my greatest strengths. I like to show up early and on time I don't like being late. I know that I didn't show it today, but I am actually very reliable............ I don't really have a uh......uh...... Life..... outside of work so I am available whenever you need me. Just call me at any time and I will show up.

Neta: what did you choose this job?

Naomi: Truth is that.. My therapist wants me to go outside and interact with people... .... and suggest getting a part-time job...... to further improve my social skills....... I decided on rockshock because I like music. ........ and I like the alternative community and that it caters to.... People in the alternative community, though they look scary. They are actually very welcoming and patient and I feel like that would be a good environment to start my journey in to social interaction

Neta: well I must say you were right on that......... You forgot your cell phone on the table...... I'll call you next week for orientation okay?

Naomi: ok .....*huff* ok. ..... I'll be going. Thank you... he's so nice.

Neta: It's no problem.

anemone: I gave give her a week

Neta: shut up

anemone belongs to @fish-at-fish-fish-resort

And Toguni belongs to @conkreetmonkey

And neta belongs to...oh me he belongs to me nvm

[justsoohi]

To the southern island, Episode 2

Natsume: The way home has sunk.....Wait a minute. What the hell is going on?

Tsumugi: Natsume-kun, what's the time now? Perhaps the time has passed while you're playing, or you misunderstood the it.

Natsume: No, There should still be plenty of time. There is no misunderstanding, I set the alarm as soon as I heard the time.

Tsumugi: hm·····

—Perhaps

Sora: ? Senpai did you figure out the reason?

Tsumugi: I've heard of it before.

There's a land that's affected by a special magnetic field. And there're places where clocks and watches are affected and can be delayed.

Maybe, this is one of those islands too.

Sora: So the clock says it's this time, but in fact the time has already passed?

Tsumugi: Well, that's just my guess. That's all I can think of.....

Natsume: Regardless of the reason. When will the road appear next?

Tsumugi: Let's see, ...... it's very hard to say, but -------. I think it's a few months away.

Natsume: a fe- few months!?

Sora: Ehh It's gonna take that long!?

Tsumugi: Yes. Unfortunately...

Sora: E ~e……. That's a big problem~? What should we do?

Natsume: Survival in the middle of nowhere...... It's impossible in such an empty place. Why is this happening ...

(Ah----. I knew it. I'm too incompatible with summer. ......)

Shu: Fumu... I understand what your hope is. But from now on...

……I agree, Normally, I would have refused. but I understand this time.

Anyway, if we are going to modify the costumes, we have to modify the production as well. It's a little tight for a schedule, but... I'll try to make it in time.

Ah. I'll readjust it before the final stage. Well then.

.... Non! Little girl, I know you are hiding behind that houseplant. You've been glancing at me for a while now. Stop being weird and come out.

Hm? "I couldn't get out because I was having a serious conversation with the dancers---?"

Ma~a, that's right. Now that there's hope for readjustment, It can be said that it is a serious situation.

The little girl doesn't have to apologize. It's not because of you that this change is happening.

Hm? "Is that the reason why I'm not angry and calm in spite of the situation"?

hmph. I'm still a little angry about it. It's a sudden change and readjustment at this point.

They understand that they are not just talking out of their own low self-esteem.

To improve the stage and performance ... I can't help but be persuaded that it's necessary to sublimate.

Besides, I was able to board such a luxurious ship this time because of my skills. and was invited as a director and designer.

As a professional, I'll do my job very well.

That's about it. Why did the little girl come to me?

Did you have something to do to wait until you heard the situation?

Shu: There is a limestone cave on this island ...? What exactly does that mean?

Fumu. A~a, I see. so there's a plan to go to see the limestone cave on this island with the passengers and staff.

you were wondering if I might join you?

Non, I won't join you. I don't want to walk around in hot places. Go with the rest of them without me.

Besides, I want to start various work. I'm going back to my room

O tto. It looks like the ship has arrived at the shore. Come on, Go quickly!

.....now, I'll go back to my room and—

Hm? What is this glossy color that just flashed across my eyes·····?

Um? Ah, it's stopped at the edge of the ship ... is that a butterfly?

( ! Fumu, what a beautiful butterfly with beautiful wings ......!)

It's a butterfly I've never seen before. Perhaps it is a species that lives only here.

What a surprise! Seeing those butterflies is an inspiration to me!

Ahh·····. This kind of wording is like Tsukinaga's. What an abomination!

(We~ll, whatever. it's too regrettable to throw away such inspiration.)

(I may be able to use the shape of those feathers to adjust the costume. I want to keep it as a reference ...)

It would be a pity to capture it, so at least I'll take a picture of it— Ah, one more step and it would've gotten away!

Damn--- wait! At least stay still until I take your picture!

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part One. George: the definition of “hello, have you met my friend?”

warnings: none word count: 1568 (not including pictures) *** Bugsy is Y/n’s username! I got too attached to change it to y/u/n so change it in your mind if you’d like :) 

behind the screen (irl dream x reader) series masterlist

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-

Y/n sighed lightly as she set her phone on the desk in front of her. Her eyes traveled back to her monitor, where George was sharing his screen on Discord as he practiced speedruns. Y/n and Sapnap were on call with him to keep him company.

The cold air around her nipped at her skin, sending chills and bringing goosebumps. She pulled her hoodie closer to her body, tucking her feet on her chair to curl herself in a ball.

"This run sucks," George mumbled. "I thought it was going to be good."

"It would have if the village actually had anything useful," Sapnap commented. "There was a lava pool at spawn and everything."

"What do you think, Bugsy? Should I start over?"

She hummed, squinting at the screen. "Yeah, you should."

He left and started a new run.

"Karl's replies on Twitter are always so funny," Sapnap giggled after a few moments of silence. "He's so formal."

"I love that kid. That's my best friend right there, no cap," Y/n said with a smile. She and Karl had been friends for a few years now. They met through their parents being friends and shortly found out the other streamed and quickly bonded over that as their fanbases grew.

"Did you see Wilbur's response to your tweet?" Sapnap asked. "Man wrote you a letter."

"What did the tweets say?" George asked, half-listening as he focused on his run.

Sapnap read them and George laughed through his nose. "How could you ask for a Minecraft boyfriend while you're literally on a call with us while I'm playing Minecraft?"

"Just keeping my options open," Y/n laughed. "Don't worry, I'm wearing a GeorgeNotFound hoodie as we speak."

"I'd be worried, George. There are quite a few proposals in the responses."

"Shut up," Y/n muttered, a smile on her face that she was glad neither of them could see. "George, you remember my roommate is in love with you, right? Don't upset her by being jealous of boys coming after me."

"You're an idiot," George breathed out in a laugh. "No, she's not."

"She is. Very much."

"No, no, she isn't."

"George," Sapnap sighed dramatically. "Just accept that you can be loved."

"You're both idiots, okay?" George laughed awkwardly. "This seed is terrible," he groaned.

"Wait!" Sapnap yelled. "Village on the left!"

George quickly turned and ran towards the village to loot it. Y/n watched with Sapnap as George found iron and a few other valuable things.

"Oh! This might be okay."

"Bugsy?" Sapnap asked slowly, sounding confused.

"Sapnap?" she replied in the same tone.

"Have you not met Quackity?"

"No. What made you ask?"

"I just saw his response to your tweet."

"Why are you two on your phones? I'm speedrunning!"

"Because you still haven't made it to the nether on any of them," Sapnap bit. "How are you best friends with Karl and you haven't you met Quackity?"

"I dunno. I just haven't. There's a lot of people I have only spoken to through Twitter replies."

"Like who?" George asked.

"Why are we only talking about me?" Y/n asked in slight frustration. She wasn't fond of talking about herself because she wasn't used to it. "This is George's stream."

"Well, now I'm really curious so I wanna talk about this," George laughed. "Who haven't you met?"

"I dunno!" she said, flustered. "Quackity, Wilbur, Dream, Tubbo, Tomm-- wait, no I met Tommy. He yelled at me."

"Wait, wait, what?" Sapnap interrupted.

Y/n paused but neither of them said anything. "What?"

"You haven't met Dream?" George asked, sounding equally as confused.

No one said anything. "No? Why is that surprising. I mean, we've joked through tweets and stuff but I've never played with him or actually spoken to him."

"What about DMs and stuff?" George asked.

"Nope. Dream is just thirsty in my replies like Wilbur," she joked, feeling the anxiety of the awkward pauses seep through her skin and touch her bones. Why were they being so weird about it? "Why is that so shocking that a man with, like, 15 million subscribers has never spoken to me?"

Sapnap laughed. "I'm just genuinely surprised that he hasn't reached out to you before."

"Yeah, me too," George agreed. "He talks about you in a way I thought you guys were good friends. And you're friends with us so I just assumed you were friends with him too."

Y/n laughed, nervous at the mention of being talked about. "Well, he must be a pussy or something because I have yet to receive any acknowledgement from Dream Was Taken besides him occasionally replying to my tweets and Instagram pictures."

George laughed suddenly, making Y/n look at the monitor with George's screen quickly, which wasn't moving. "What happened? Did you find something?"

"No," George's screen began moving again and he started building a portal. "Dream just texted me because he's watching the stream."

"What did he say?" Sapnap asked.

"He said, 'can I join the call? I don't want Bugsy to think I'm a pussy'," George answered, lowering his voice to a mumble before adding, "And something else he'd probably kill me if I said out loud."

Sapnap and George laughed at Y/n's silence. She was only joking, not intending to challenge him to talk to her. Honestly, she was relieved he had never spoken to her because he intimidated her. Meeting people made her nervous and Dream was no different. If anything, he was worse because he was a big deal and he kinda flirted with her sometimes, which gave her butterflies in a way she didn't like.

"I'm adding him to call," George announced.

"Wait, you're not going to check if I'm okay with meeting him live in front of 80,000 people?" Y/n asked with a small, nervous laugh.

"No, because it's my stream. I can do what I want. I can't live another second knowing you two have never talked."

"I think Bugsy's scared!" Sapnap coeed.

"I think so too!"

"You wish," Y/n muttered.

A small sound emitted from Discord, notifying everyone that someone joined the voice chat.

"Hello Dreeaamm..." George dragged out as he navigated the nether. "I made it to the nether, Sapnap. Will you get off your phone now?"

"Yeah, I guess. Hi Dream!"

"Hello," Dream said casually. "Hello, Bugsy."

Y/n lowered in her chair more, pulling her hood up and closing it tight over her eyes. No one could see her but his voice made her feel seen.

Sapnap giggled and George laughed. Dream breathed out a laugh. Y/n responded with a small, "Hi."

"Bugsy, you're such a liar!" Sapnap called out. "You are so scared."

"Shut up, Sapnap!" she chuckled.

"Scared of what?" Dream asked innocently.

"Meeting you," George answered. Traitor.

"Forgive me," Y/n started, sitting up in her seat and pulling open her hood to watch George play, "for being nervous to meet Mr. Speedrun in front of a huge live audience." She decided to joke around to hopefully ease the nervousness under her skin. "I'm just worried he's going to flirt with me again and I'll have to embarrass him in front of everyone by rejecting him again."

They all laughed.

"I mean, you already said Karl was in the lead for being your Minecraft boyfriend, so I really have no shot," Dream said.

"As if I'm letting some girl named Bugsy steal my fiance!" Sapnap yelled.

"Ah!" The attention was ripped away from Y/n as George screamed. Y/n looked at the screen, watching as her friend was getting attacked by a hoard of zombie pigmen.

"Why did you hit one, George?" she teased.

"I didn't mean to! AHH!!" he screeched, making everyone laugh. "STOP ATTACKING ME!"

"George!" Dream laughed. "Just run, you won't be able to kill them all!"

"I'm trying!" George fell in lava and screamed again. His death appeared on the screen and Y/n could hear him slam his desk. "That run was so good until the zombie pig came out of nowhere."

He started a new run and it was quiet for a moment before Dream's soft voice spoke again. "Well, Bugsy. I hope you forgive me for taking so long to speak to you."

"I-I was just kidding about you being a pussy," she mumbled, making him laugh.

"No, it's true. I was."

"Come on, Dream, sliding in my DMs is easy," she joked. "You could have if you wanted to."

"Trust us," George laughed, "he wanted to."

"What?" Dream asked George loudly, making Sapnap laugh.

"Dream, you talk about her all the time. George and I were both led to believe you were already friends based on how you talk about her."

"How I talk about her? What does that mean?" Dream sounded defensive and it made Y/n smile.

"You're always like, 'Bugsy did this' and 'Bugsy tweeted that', and 'I have to do a face reveal before Bugsy does because she'll outshine me'," Sapnap teased.

"Okay, the last one? I never said that. You're lying about that."

"But the rest of it is true?" Y/n teased.

"Look, you play good and your tweets are funny! I didn't come on here to get bullied, oh my gosh."

**********

A/N: this is my first time attempting a social media fic so the theme of this series is gonna be ignore the number of likes/retweets and stuff just know that y/n is a much smaller streamer she only gets a lot of likes and stuff when it involves other mcyt ya know okay fun times 

Please give feedback!! I hope you enjoy it!!! I don’t have a schedule right now but I might in the future if this series gets a lot of attention :) as of right now i’ll try to update at least once a week! 

NEXT

[delu-jean]

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐎𝐫 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲?

(Hawks x fem!/reader) -> Mostly Fluff -> 1.4k 

Synopsis: You and Hawks decide to go out for a date. He’s running a little late, and you’re alone for a bit. You end up meeting a close friend of yours, and Hawks isn’t very pleased.

Notes: Might be a little angsty/sad after hearing about his insecurities? Other than that, I would say this os is kind of fluffy. Hope you like it ^^

It was the day you were looking forward to (since the beginning of the week at least). The day where you and Keigo would finally go out. It’s been at least two months since you last talked to him. He was busy with his job, and you, with university. It saddened you that you both were separated by your choice in career. Him a hero, and you, an accountant. It may have sounded boring compared to his extravagant job, but it was one you found enjoyable. 

Keigo texted you a couple days in advance, saying that he wanted to take you out. Of course you had agreed, and here you were, now at the mall waiting for him to arrive. You both planned to go shopping for a bit, and then watch a movie. Maybe go on a short stroll and part ways after. You made sure to fix up your appearance for once, knowing you might not be able to see him for sometime after. Plus, you wanted to make sure that you could make the best of things with the time given. 

You waited for about ten minutes. Not thinking much about it, you decided to play on your phone, scroll through your socials, and do whatever you could to distract yourself. It worked for a while...until you found yourself looking at your phone for the next hour. You happened to scroll onto a post talking about Keigo at an interview. 

‘I thought he said he was free today…’ you sighed and put your phone away. 

You then got up from your seat. Though he doesn’t stand you up as often as he meets you, it still sucked knowing that you both barely met. This was the first time in two months, would you have to wait another three?...four even? You decided not to think too much about it, after all, you understood and respected Keigo’s schedule. 

‘I guess I’ll get going now-’ 

“L/n?” you looked up to see a very familiar face. 

“Watarou? What are you doing here?” 

“I’m just strolling around haha. I just got back from America, and decided to do a little bit of shopping. You?” 

“Oh...I’m...or rather, I was waiting for my boyfriend. He’s a little late though...so I think I’m going to get going.” 

Watarou took note of your disappointment, and based on what he knew (about you), he thought about what would cheer you up. 

“Hey...if you don’t mind, we should go and get some crepes. My treat.” 

“Really!?”

“Really, like old times.” 

---

Hawks arrived about an hour later. He felt super guilty that he wasn’t able to see you at the time he promised, but duty called when it needed to. He also knew you understood his schedule and was grateful for that. He was very, very thankful for it. Reason being, one thing that Hawks had always been insecure about, was his lifestyle in general. 

He was constantly doing something, whether that be hero work, interviews, promotions, and so much more. That being the case, whenever he tried making relationships work, they’d always end with “why are you so busy?”, “can’t you try to make some time for me?” He tried doing his best, but things would always end because of that. But when he met you, things had changed. 

Although he was a little reluctant, and it took a while to convince him, he ultimately knew you were someone who did respect his time. So because of that, he made sure to make your sessions special, to show the appreciation he had for you. Because of this, he always made sure to be on time. Rushing out of his work so he could sprint to you. So when he was late, he’d feel horrible for making you wait, secretly having thoughts about traumatic past experiences. 

“Where is she?” 

He tried calling only to realize your phone had died, it immediately sent him to voicemail. He was getting anxious at this point, maybe you went home? But then, you would’ve had a charger?...maybe it broke? He then looked around catching a glimpse of your hair...and what seemed to be like...another person. 

He started to stride towards you. Just who exactly were you with? He then gazed as the two of you ate crepes together. You seemed to be enjoying your time with him while you both conversed. Hawks on the other hand, was not. Though he was fine with you having friends...your interaction seemed to be a little “too friendly.” He continued to watch from behind, and saw as he then slid something over. 

“What’s this?”

“It’s a bracelet...do you like it?”

“It looks gorgeous!” you looked in awe as the gentlemen smiled. 

“I’m glad you do. I’ve been trying to get the right gift for a while now.” 

“Who wouldn’t like it? I can tell you put a lot of effort into it,” he then put his hand on the box as you continued eating your crepes. 

Hawks had seen enough. To see someone give you that type of attention, whether he was a friend or not, didn’t sit right with him. Not only that, but it really hurt seeing someone else was treating you better than him (in his eyes at least). Regardless of who he was, Keigo was your boyfriend, and that being the case, should’ve been trying harder. 

He then approached the both of you, and gave a cold stare to Watarou. Watarou seemed a little uneasy with the exchange, while you were thrilled to see Hawks. You got up and wrapped your arms around his torso, hugging him tightly as his hands stood at his side. 

“Keigo! You’re here!’ 

“Were you having fun?...” he said, agitated as you then realized what was going on. 

“Oh Keigo...I never knew you’d get jealous over something like this.” 

“What!? What do you mean!?”

“Watarou, this is Keigo. Keigo, Watarou.” 

“Nice to meet you man,” Watarou said as he gave his hand. 

“Yeah...same here…” Hawks said while feeling uncertain. 

“Watarou was just helping me kill time, it’s been a while since we last got together, so we took advantage of it while you finished your duties.”

‘So they’ve known each other for a while.’ 

“Yeah...I hope you don’t mind. I took her for crepes and we talked for a bit.” 

“What about the bracelet?” Keigo would ask bluntly as he then said: 

“Oh, I was asking for Y/n’s opinion. I’m gifting it to my sister, and since they have similar taste, I wanted her input on things. I’m glad they’re good.” 

“Ahh...I see.” 

“Well, I’m going to head out. I’ll see you both sometime, I have about two weeks left? So see you then!” 

“Bye Watarou!” you waved as he exited the mall. 

Keigo then realised as to why he was so irritated. It wasn’t that you had done wrong, no, he trusted that you were loyal. It was that his insecurities got the best of him, which threw him off. He was upset that such feelings got him acting so petty, especially towards someone who had done nothing wrong. Knowing this, he knew what he needed to do. He sighed to then look you in the eye. You still a little confused, he then apologized, saying: 

“Dove...I’m sorry…” 

“Sorry for what?”  

“It’s just that...I was so caught up in my insecurities...that I assumed you were doing wrong…”

“Oh…” you weren’t going to lie, you were a little disappointed. Why would he even think that, after all your time together?...but then, you also understood his past and whatnot. Still, it bothered you to say the least. 

“I’m sorry for that...along with not showing up on time. I tried my best to come, but I guess, Watarou beat me to it haha. Not in a bad way of course, I’m just grateful you had some company while I was on my way.” 

“I guess so, but Keigo.” 

“Hm?” 

“You know, you won’t ever have to worry about that kind of thing. Even though I'm a little hurt by your assumption, I get why and will let it slide for this time,” he smiled and then grabbed your hand. 

“Mhm, love you,” he pecked your cheek as your hands intertwined. 

“Silly, I’d only fall for your chicken-like charms.” 

“Aww, why not my Hawkish charms? Sharp, daring, handsome?” he winked as you shook your head. 

“Because a chicken is vulnerable, soft, cute, and gives me loads of egg,” you then stared at his wallet as he rolled his eyes (playfully). 

“Okay okay fine, let’s go catch that movie,” he sighed as you laughed. 

“Sounds good to me!” 

[watchmegetobsessed]

TO LOVE AND BELOVED - Part Five (Harry Styles)

a/n: ahh idk why but writing this part took me forever! but its finally here and i can’t wait to see your thoughts on it! i was debating for a long time if part 5 should be the last one, but then i decided to add another part, bc there are two more things i want to include in the story and i couldn’t squeeze them into this part, it’s already the longest so far, so we have one more part left of the story! also, a little warning that part 6 might take a little longer than the prev parts bc im a little behind with my schedule but it’ll try my best!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce, sexual content

word count: 12k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

You’ve been feeling like a teenager sneaking around her parents these past weeks. Only that you’re an adult and the parent you are trying to keep your secret romance hidden from is a four year old little girl.

Your birthday was a turning point in your evolving relationship with Harry. Like a wall has been brought down and he finally started reaching out to you. It feels like with every passing day you’re getting closer to him and you can see the progress he’s been making thanks to his therapy sessions and how much he is trying to make a change himself as well.

Stolen kisses and tiny touches have been a usual in your every days whenever Izzy was out of sight for the shortest second. You’ve realized that Harry is an affectionate person, he likes to keep you close and he never fails to bring passion into the tiniest kisses.

With Izzy around 24/7 it’s been hard to find time when it’s just the two of you, but you’ve been waking up early in the morning just to spend that twenty minutes alone with Harry while he drinks his coffee. Sometimes you just sit in silence, trying to wake up for the day ahead of you but sometimes he talks your ears off about anything and everything. In the evening, when Izzy is already sleeping the two of you usually wind off together in the living room or watch a movie in the entertainment room, just enjoying some alone time. It’s not much, but more than nothing and you’ve grown very fond of these little moments with him.

Nothing more has happened than just kissing. Despite the progress Harry has made so far you can tell he still has quite a few conflicts buried deep inside him and you definitely don’t want to rush him into anything he is not ready for. Some cuddling on the couch or short but passionate make out sessions in a corner while Izzy is not paying attention, you haven’t gone further than this.

Now it’s the last day before Izzy leaves to Harry’s mum for the week. He is dropping her off Sunday afternoon and it will leave the two of you alone for seven full days. Well, Harry still has to work during the day, but from the moment he’ll get home, it’s just gonna be you and him.

You had to make a few phone calls so you’ve been locked in your room for a while now. When you come down you find your favorite father-daughter duo on the couch, some kind of Barbie movie playing on the TV, but Izzy is busy with something else. She’s got her water based flooring pens scattered around her, Harry’s tattooed arm laying across her lap as she is coloring the patterns as if it was her favorite coloring book. Before they could notice you, you run back to your room and grab your polaroid camera and returning you snap a picture of the adorable scene. The shutter of the camera makes Harry’s head snap in your way, a smile tugging on his lips.

“Hey,” he softly greets you. You put the camera and the photo aside to the cupboard near you before joining them on the couch.

“Hi Y/N! Look!” Izzy beams happily, pointing at Harry’s ship tattoo that is now fully colored with yellows, pinks and blues.

“It looks better this way,” you smirk down at her before your eyes meet with Harry’s over her head, smiling at you softly.

Making yourself comfortable next to them, you watch Izzy work on more of his tattoos and you find it such a heartwarming scene, you want to remember it forever. Harry Styles, such an influential, successful and serious businessman, sitting on the couch in his loungewear while his daughter is using his tattooed skin as her personal coloring book. He really is a wonderful human being and the best dad to his daughter.

“Y/N, do you have any tattoos?” Izzy asks, turning to you with curious eyes.

“I actually do,” you answer and you see Harry’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“You really do?” he asks, his head resting on the back of the couch, turned to face you.

“Yeah,” you nod with a soft chuckle.

“Where?” Izzy asks perking up at the new information.

“Um, it’s right here,” you tell her pointing at the side of your hips, covered with your sweatpants.

“Can I color them?” she asks innocently, but Harry is quick to react.

“Izzy, you’re being a little too nosy,” he warns her as always, and she looks at you with a pouty look.

“It’s fine. Um, yeah, you can color it,” you nod.

Sliding lower on the couch you roll down the waistband of your pants until the tattoo is revealed on the side. You catch Harry’s eyes wander over the skin you are now showing and you can see a slight blush tinting his cheeks. He hasn’t seen this part of your body uncovered yet, he hasn’t even seen you in a bathing suit so far so it’s quite the new thing.

(reference for the tattoo)

The tattoo on your side is a simple yet meaningful one, dedicated to the special bond you and Trevor share. It’s a minimalistic yet beautiful piece of two koi fishes swimming in a circle, one is left blank as while the other one is black so their formation resembles the yin-yang symbol. You got it when you turned twenty, when Trevor was just in middle school, but he promised you he would get the same design when he turns eighteen that will happen in the fall.

“That looks beautiful,” Harry breathes out with a shy smile and you notice how he doesn’t ask about the meaning behind it. Not because he is not curious but because he is insanely respectful and he doesn’t want to ask something that’s too personal.

“Thanks,” you smile at him as Izzy grabs her pens and starts coloring the blank fish.

The rest of the day goes by uneventfully, Harry is clearly trying to spend as much time with Izzy as possible before her week with his mother, but you also notice that he seems to be keeping something away from you, like he is trying to bring up something but he is not entirely sure how to start the conversation.

It’s not until Izzy is put to bed that he joins you on the couch, turning to you with a serious expression on his handsome face.

“What’s up?” you ask with a soft chuckle.

“I was thinking…”

“I could see that,” you tease him, giving his knee a playful squeeze. “I’m listening.”

“Actually there are two things I wanted to talk to you about. I’m not sure which one to ask first.” He purses his lips before sighing and moving his eyes to meet your curious gaze. “So we’re gonna be alone for the next week.”

“Mhm.”

“And I thought that… if you want to, but we don’t have to, it was just an idea—so feel free to—“

“Harry,” you cut his stuttering off, moving closer with a reassuring smile. You caress the side of his face and you notice how you lean into your touch, breathing out through his nose. “Don’t be nervous, alright? Just tell me what’s been on your mind.”

“Would you go out on a date with me?” he then asks and it’s the purest thing you’ve ever seen and heard from him. The hopeful but still nervous look in his eyes makes him appear like a little boy who is asking out his first crush in middle school, afraid of rejection, when that’s the last thing he has to think about when it comes to you, but it’s still cute.

“I would love to,” you smile at him and leaning closer you peck his lips softly. “And what’s the other thing you wanted to ask?”

“Well, I’m driving Izzy over to my mum’s early in the morning and I’m staying for lunch and… if you don’t feel like it’s too much, you could… maybe come with us.”

“You want me to meet your mum?” you ask surprised.

“Well, she wants to meet you as well, but I want you to meet her, yes,” he admits with a nervous chuckle. “Gemma has told her about you and my sister likes to be nosy so she might have added a little spice into the story about us when nothing was really going on.”

“Oh my, what does she think?” you ask with wide eyes.

“Nothing bad, don’t worry,” he assures you quickly. “She just made it seem like we are… dating and all,” he adds with a nervous smile. “But I told her that it’s… I mean that we are not there… yet.”

“Oh, okay. Well, if you really want me there, I would love to go with you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Would love to meet your mum.”

“I was afraid you’d find it a little early for this,” he admits truthfully and you can see that rationality in his thought. “We haven’t really… discussed what we are and I didn’t want to put the pressure on you.”

“Well, do you want to talk about us?” you ask softly, giving him the chance to decline if he feels like the conversation might be a little too much for him.

“I do, but I’m not sure… what to say,” he hums, knitting his eyebrows together. Last time I had this talk I was in my early twenties and I don’t even know how to start,” he chuckles shaking his head.

“Okay, then let’s just agree on some things,” you suggest and he eyes you curiously. “Neither of us is seeing anyone else, right?”

“Is that even a question in my situation?” he snorts, making a joke out of his issues clearly and you’re happy he is able to take it so lighthearted.

“Just clearing the air,” you chuckle. “So we are…exclusive.”

“Seems like it,” he nods.

“And you just asked me out on a date,” you point another detail out.

“I did. And you said yes,” he smiles, an excited shine in his eyes glimmering through his green irises.

“Yeah. So we can say we are dating? Seeing each other?” Harry chews on the terms you offered, tastes them before nodding slowly.

“I guess we could say that.”

“Okay. So… that’s what we are,” you smile at him, giving his knee another squeeze. This time, his hand finds yours and he runs his thumb across your knuckles.

“I think… I’m okay with that,” he breathes out and though it’s seemingly such an insignificant thing, you know how huge steps he has just taken forward.

“I liked the blue one better. With the white sweater,” Heather hums, watching you through the video call. You have your phone propped up on your dresser as you’re trying to figure out what to wear today.

Though you seemed completely unbothered last night when Harry invited you along with them, but now you can feel the slight panic. It’s not even because you and Harry are a thing now, you’d feel this way if you met his mother just as Izzy’s nanny. Grandmothers can be so protective over their grandchildren, you’ve met with quite a few problematic ones while you were working at the daycare and you just want Anne to like you, to trust you with Izzy as much as Harry does.

“Okay, blue it is then,” you sigh, pulling the yellow sundress off of yourself before putting the blue one back with a white sweater.

“So you guys are now official?” Heather grins at you through the screen. “Meeting his mother and all that?”

“Define being official,” you chuckle softly.

“Like, boyfriend-girlfriend?”

“Not yet. But we agreed to be exclusively dating.”

“I still can’t fucking believe that you’re scoring the hottest dad I’ve ever seen. You lucky bitch,” she sighs, sipping on her morning coffee.

“Me neither,” you scoff.

“I’m pretty sure if the mothers who got you fired knew, they would explode. Basically every woman was in love with the man and now you are the lucky woman actually getting him.”

“I guess this is karma for what they did,” you chuckle shrugging. “Alright, I gotta go, because we are leaving soon, but I’ll talk to you soon.”

“You better be! I want a detailed essay about how it went!” she grins, kissing the camera.

“Alright, bye!” you smile before ending the call.

When you get downstairs, Harry and Izzy are already down there, Harry is zipping up her bag while she is dancing around humming to herself.

“Baby, your backpack is still in your room. Can you please get it?” Harry asks her, Izzy nods and runs towards you, stopping in front of you.

“Hi Y/N! I like your dress!” she beams at you.

“Hi! Well thank you!” you smile at her before she runs past you up the stairs. “Hey,” you greet Harry and his eyes snap up to you, his pink lips stretching into a warm smile as he leans closer and kisses your cheek sweetly.

“Hi. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. So, any tips for meeting your mum for the first time?” you ask, fidgeting with your fingers nervously. Harry reaches out and takes your hands between his so he stops the motion.

“You don’t need tips. I know my mum will like you, she is already so excited to meet you, so don’t worry.”

“If you say so,” you breathe out.

Harry puts Izzy’s stuff in the Rover and soon buckles her into her seat before the three of you hit the road. Harry has a whole playlist for Izzy’s favorite songs so you obviously listen to that along with Izzy’s performance of all the songs, filled with misheard lyrics, but that’s what makes it even better. The car ride is about three hours, which is not that horrible. You need just one bathroom break sometime in the middle and Izzy sleeps through the last hour in the car, allowing the two of you to finally listen to music that’s not from a kids’ show.

“Do you have a song request?” you smile over at him, scrolling through his phone since it’s the one connected to the car, but he has given you permission to play whatever you like.

“Not really.”

“You don’t have songs you like to listen to in the car?”

“Not specifically. Do you?”

“Oh, I have a whole playlist for songs to blast in the car,” you chuckle.

“Really? And what songs are on it?”

“Well, I can just show you.”

You search up your user on Spotify and find the playlist in talk before putting it on shuffle. As the first song starts to play, you peek over at him to see his reaction and you spot the smirk on his lips.

“Black Eyed Peas?” he asks glancing at you shortly.

“Yeah, you don’t like them?” you smirk at him.

“I do, I just didn’t think you listen to them,” he admits with a soft chuckle.

“Are you kidding me? They give me the biggest nostalgia! I listened to them so much as a teenager.”

“So teenage Y/N gave a concert in her bedroom, singing I Gotta Feeling?” he teases you grinning.

“Not just a concert, a whole world tour.”

There’s a short silence, just the two of you listening to the song, you watch the trees and fields rush by you as you drive down the country road. The song changes to another one and you’ve already forgotten about what you talked about, but apparently not Harry.

“What were you like as a teenager?” he asks. You turn to face him and your eyes meet for a second.

“Um, like a normal teenager,” you shrug, not sure what to say.

“There’s no such thing as a normal teenager,” Harry smiles. “What did you do, what were your favorite things?”

“I was… pretty plain, if I might say. I wasn’t a rebel or too much of a geek either. I had like three good friends, we used to hang out a lot by the little lake near our neighborhood, that was like our spot. I liked going on hikes and I watched a lot of documentaries,” you admit with a small smile.

“What kind?”

“I don’t know, anything that was on,” you shrug. “My mom had this phase where she was trying to act like she was just like all the other mom’s from my school, but they were all at least a decade older than her. She was trying to prove that she was this mature, very serious woman who had her shit together and all that.”

“And she didn’t?” Harry asks peeking at you shortly.

“I mean, she did. She turned thirty when I was twelve. Most women barely just got married and started their family at that age but she had been married for eight years and had a middle schooler and a baby already. She really was mature but I could tell that she felt like she lost her twenties because of… me.”

Sighing you think back to the years when you often felt like a burden to your mom. She gave up a lot of things just to give you the life she imagined for you. She worked her ass off to raise you and later Trevor as well, have a career and do all the works around the house. Your dad was working a lot of night shifts, there were entire weeks when you barely even saw him. You don’t blame him, he was trying to provide for his family, but it’s pretty clear he and your mother grew cold over the years and it had a huge part in it.

“Do you… blame yourself for it?” Harry asks softly.

“No,” you shake your head. “It’s not like I had anything to do with being born,” you chuckle. “I just didn’t like seeing my mom struggle so much. So when Trevor was born I was trying to take over a lot of tasks around the house and with him as well. I babysat him a lot, took care of him in the mornings, I picked him up from daycare and later from school… I tried to make it easier for my parents.”

“So this is why you grew so close with him?”

“I guess so,” you nod. “I mean, I surely spent the most time with him,” you add with a short chuckle.

“And do you think this is why you’re so good with kids?”

“What is this, a therapy session?” you ask arching an eyebrow at him, but he just rolls his eyes.

“Just… trying to get to know you. Is that a problem?”

“No, I just… I’m not used to talking about myself so much. It’s been quite a few years since I’ve been in this… talking stage,” you admit with a sigh. “But to answer your question, it might have had some impact on me. I mean, I loved taking care of Trevor. It’s like I had my own baby doll, only that it wasn’t just a toy, it was a real baby I could play with.”

“Did you play dress up with him?” Harry smirks at you.

“I did,” you admit laughing. “I used to dress him as a princess a lot and he seemed to like it! My dad wasn’t really a fan of it.”

For the rest of the ride you listen to your playlist and talk about not just your but Harry’s past too. He tells you about his friends, what he was like in school and the mischiefs he did growing up, that drove his mum crazy sometimes. As you get to his hometown and he points out different places he used to go to when he was younger, you feel so much closer to him, like you’ve just gotten to see another piece of him that was hidden before.

He pulls up to the driveway of a simple townhouse and as you get out of the car you see the front door open and a woman rushes out, squealing in excitement as she runs up to Harry and hugs him tightly.

“Finally! I was starting to get worried!” she breathes out, rocking the two of them to left and right.

“Mum, don’t be dramatic. I texted you when we left and we got here perfectly in time,” Harry chuckles, holding his mum tight.

“You barely just arrived and you’re already picking on me? Typical,” Anne rolls her eyes, letting go of him. You round the car, feeling nervous to meet her. When her eyes finally fall on you, her smile grows even wider as she takes a step closer to you. “And you must be Y/N! It’s so nice to meet you!” she beams, pulling you into a warm hug as well.

“Nice to meet you too,” you chuckle, hugging her back.

“I’m Anne, but I listen to all versions of mum and grandma,” she tells you chuckling.

“Alright, noted,” you nod smiling.

Harry opens the car door of the backseat and unbuckles Izzy who has already woken up from her little nap and the moment her feet are on the ground she runs up to Anne.

“Grams!” She giggles before throwing herself into Anne’s arms who picks her up happily.

“Hi baby, you grew so much! I missed you!” she sighs as the little girl cuddles into her neck.

“Missed you too, Grams. I brought my new toys, do you want to play with them?”

“Of course! We’ll have all the time to play this week,” Anne smiles down at her. “Alright, come on in. Lunch is almost ready.”

Harry grabs Izzy’s things from the car and you all head inside. The house smells good from the cooking food in the kitchen and it’s such a cozy home, you can definitely see Harry growing up here. Above the fireplace in the living room there are a bunch of photos framed on the wall, most of them are from Harry and Gemma, but there are some more of other relatives as well, cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents. It seems like Harry has a big family.

Harry unpacks Izzy’s stuff in her room that used to be Gemma’s apparently, he is telling Anne all about everything she needs to know about Izzy’s routines and she is listening patiently, though you’re sure she is more than capable of taking care of her. After all, she raised two amazing children already.

While Izzy shows Anne all her toys she’s brought with herself, Harry takes your hand and pulls you out of the room just to go into another one. Walking in you immediately realize that it must have been his once upon a time.

“You know, I can see your younger version in here, the one I saw in the photos downstairs,” you smirk at him, looking around. There are some old posters and pictures still littering the walls, stickers are covering the side of his wardrobe and dresser, some of them are partially ripped off already, he probably tried to get rid of them once he got older, but miserably failed.

“Yeah? I was pretty cute, right?” he smirks, so full of himself.

“I liked the curly Justin Bieber hairstyle,” you tease him and he gives you an “are you for real?!” look to which you just start laughing.

“Justin Bieber had nothing on me.”

“Yeah, sure,” you laugh before he grabs your hand and pulls you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you. “Your mum is in the next room,” you whisper against his lips as he leans down, teasing you with them just lingering on yours.

“So what? You never sneaked around your parents before?” he smirks down at you.

“I did,” you admit.

“Oh, nasty,” he comments before finally kissing you. However it doesn’t last long, because you hear footsteps coming from outside so you’re quick to move away from each other, just in time when Anne walks in.

“Lunch will be ready in a few, would you two mind setting the table?” she smiles, oblivious what was happening just a moment ago.

“Sure,” Harry nods, rubbing his nose as his other hand finds your waist and he ushers you out of the room.

Izzy helps Anne in the kitchen while you and Harry take care of the table. When everything is done you all sit down and start the feast Anne was so kind to make for you. It doesn’t take long to see the snickering but loving dynamic between Harry and his mother. Anne likes to pick on her son, call him out for basically anything and though Harry talks back, he mostly just lets her tear him to pieces. With love, of course.

“Izzy, please don’t get whipped cream all over the place!” Harry sighs when it’s time for dessert. Anne has made apple pie, one of Izzy’s favorites and she is going generous with the cream on top of her slice.

“You didn’t have problem getting cream all over you when we were making cupcakes, daddy!” Izzy sasses back, making both you and Harry drop your jaws while Anne starts laughing at her boldness.

“That was an entirely different situation, Izzy,” Harry shakes his head as he helps her with the scream before passing it over to you.

“Grams, you should have been there! Daddy, Y/N and I made a mess in the kitchen, but daddy started it!” Izzy giggles, digging into the pie.

“Is that so?” Anne smirks.

“We were just… playing,” Harry explains.

“Oh, I know how you can get when you’re just playing,” Anne chuckles. “Y/N, how do you put up with two kids in the house?”

“I used to deal with fifteen at the same time, so two is not a trouble,” you smirk at Harry who just rolls his eyes, but you see the hiding little smile on his lips.

After lunch Izzy insists on showing you the dollhouse Anne has set up for her in the backyard while Harry helps his mum with the cleaning up.

“We both know your sister likes to exaggerate stories, so I didn’t believe everything she said about you and Y/N,” Anne speaks up as she is washing the dishes and Harry is on drying duty.

“I’m glad you don’t fall for Gemma’s vivid imagination.”

“But there’s one thing she got right.”

“And what would that be?” Anne turns the tap off as she faces Harry, sighing in relief as she smiles at him.

“That you look happy.”

Harry opens his mouth to say something, but then just closes it. He does feel happy, even if he is still struggling to accept it. Anne dries her hands and reaching up she cups Harry’s face in her palms.

“Baby, I haven’t seen you like this for a long time. And I know you think you don’t deserve to feel this way, but you do. And Y/N makes you happy, clearly.”

“Mum…”

“No, honey, just… listen to me, okay?” she asks and he nods, giving all his attention to his mother. “It broke my heart to see you so… lost after what happened to Maggie. And I know that it was the hardest thing you ever had to go through, but you need to move on. She would want you to do the same thing.”

“How do you know, mum? You didn’t even like Maggie when I first brought her home,” Harry points out mumbling under his breath.

“That doesn’t change the way you felt about her. I know you loved her and I would have never wanted anything to happen to her. She made you happy and that’s all that mattered to me,” she smiles with a tired sigh. “And I just want you to be happy again. Whatever you two have going on… don’t let go of it, alright? She is making you happy and you deserve that.”

Harry doesn’t know what to say so he just nods before Anne pulls him into a tight, motherly hug that he returns gladly.

“I’m trying, mum. I’m trying,” he whispers into her hair, giving her a squeeze before letting go of her.

You stay a little longer, Anne makes you tea and Harry soaks in the last minutes with Izzy before he is forced to be away from her. You know he is looking forward to spending some time away from his daddy duties, but it’s clear that he’ll miss her terribly too.

“Alright, baby. Be good and I’ll call Grams to talk to you every day, okay?” Harry tells her, giving her one last hug. Izzy wraps her arms around his neck tightly, her face squished into his neck.

“Okay, daddy. I love you,” she mumbles with a pouty look.

“I love you too. Have a good time with Grams.”

“Thank you for everything, Anne,” you tell her, giving her a quick hug.

“Oh, you’re welcome. It was so nice to meet you,” she smiles, feeling a little touched by the goodbye. “Come back soon!”

“I will, thank you.” “Bye mum, call me if anything comes up,” Harry tells her, hugging her as well.

“We’ll be alright, don’t worry. Tell Mitch and Sarah that I wish them the best!” Anne smiles as you and Harry head out the door.

“I will! Bye!”

Izzy stands at the front door with Anne, waving after you as Harry backs out of the driveway and eventually, they are out of your sight.

Harry falls silent and you don’t have to be a genius to know that he is already missing Izzy. You can imagine what it feels like to not see her every day like he always does, when he is so used to having her around all the time.

“You alright?” you softly ask, giving his arm a short squeeze.

“Yeah, it’s just… It’s the third time I’m doing this, but it never gets easier. The first year we did it I ended up driving up here four times that week,” he admits with a chuckle.

“Nothing to be ashamed of. It’s normal to miss her.”

“I know, it just makes me emotional,” he admits, flashing you a short smile before he turns his gaze back at the road ahead of him.

The drive back home is a lot quieter than the way to Anne’s. You play some music again and Harry hums to it sometimes, but he is mostly just deep in his thoughts and you don’t want to bother him, knowing well he probably needs some time to settle with the thought of an entire week without Izzy.

You get some takeout for dinner before arriving home and eat together before putting on a movie to watch in the entertainment room. One movie turns into another and before you could realize it, you’re dosed off on the comfy couch, cuddled to Harry’s side near midnight.

When you wake up something entirely different is playing on the screen since the original movie has ended long ago. Harry is passed out, his head resting against the back of the couch, one arm curled around your shoulders while the other is resting on his stomach. Rubbing your eyes you check the time and decide it’s better if you both just go to bed before you end up spending the night on the couch.

“Hey… H,” you softly caress his cheek before you brush his unruly curls back from his forehead. He scrunches his nose adorably before his eyes flutter open, taking in his surroundings. “We fell asleep. Why don’t we call it a night?” you ask in a soft whisper. Harry sighs, nodding his head, squeezing you to his side before his arm falls from around your shoulders. You peck his cheek before pushing yourself up from the couch. He shuts the TV off and the two of you head upstairs. For your surprise, his hand finds yours on the way up the stairs, lacing his fingers together with yours.

You pad your way up to the second floor and walking past Izzy’s room Harry stops for just a heartbeat before he follows you down the hallway. When you’re about to let go of his hand to head into your own bedroom, Harry pulls you back gently, making you look at him with slight confusion.

“Do you… Maybe you could… sleep at mine, if you want to? Just a thought…” he breathes out, clearly nervous to speak what’s been on his mind.

“I would love to, but only if you’re sure about it.”

“I’m sure. It would be nice to… wake up next to you,” he adds with a shy smile and you notice how he didn’t say waking up next to anyone, he wants you to be there.

“Alright. Why don’t we both just go and shower separately and then I’ll come back to yours?” you offer, giving his hand a squeeze. Harry nods and leaning down he places a chaste kiss to your lips before letting go of your hand, going your separate ways.

After doing your usual nighttime routine you put on a pair of soft pajama pants and a simple shirt before heading back to Harry’s bedroom. The door is slightly open, the lights are still on. You knock on the door before pushing it open carefully. You’ve only been in here a handful of times and it’s strange to come here with the intention of staying.

Harry is standing by his dresser in a pair of sweatpants and a white shirt, his hair is slightly damp from his shower. As his eyes fall on your figure a small smile tugs on his lips before he glances towards the bed.

“Which… which side do you like sleeping on?” he asks and you can’t hold back a chuckle as you walk to the side that’s clearly not used by him usually.

Harry huffs with a smile before going to his side. You put your phone to the nightstand before getting under the covers, making yourself comfortable in Harry’s silky sheets. He sits to the edge of the bed, checks something on his phone before dropping it to his nightstand and he then joins you under the covers.

It’s a tiny bit awkward at first, neither of you really finding your place in such a new situation, so at first you just lie on your sides facing each other. Harry is clearly about to say something, he is just looking for the right words, so you give him all the time he needs.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he softly speaks up. “Not just because… I would be awfully lonely now without Izzy,” he adds with a cheeky chuckle. “I meant it generally. I’m really happy that you’re here.”

“I’m happy to be here too. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” you smile at him. Breathing out through his nose he closes his eyes for a few seconds before his green irises meet yours again. Leaning closer he kisses you softly, just another way to tell you the same thing he just said with his words a moment ago. Pulling back he settles his head on the pillow and he pulls you into his arms, making you cuddle to his side similar to the way you fell asleep on the couch earlier.

“Good night, Y/N,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Good night, Harry,” you hum back, nuzzling your face into his shoulder, making yourself comfortable in his strong arms.

Harry grumbles lowly when his phone’s alarm goes off in the morning. He might be off from his daddy duties this week, but he is still the CEO of his company and work is calling his name. Sometime during the night the two of you got tangled up in each other. Unlike last night, now Harry is the one snuggled up to you, his heavy arm lying across your stomach, his legs mingled with yours under the sheets as you gently scratch his scalp with one hand, running the other up and down his arm across your stomach. You’re not gonna lie, waking up in a bed with Harry is far more blissful and satisfying than you imagined. Even early in the morning he has such an aura that sweeps you off your feet, the man was surely crafted by the gods.

“You’re gonna be late,” you hum, eyes still closed when he hits the snooze button and snuggles back to you.

“It’s set to when I have to get Izzy ready. We still have some time,” he mumbles against the fabric of your shirt.

You stay in bed a little longer until it really is time to get up. Harry’s morning form is so soft yet still breathtaking, even with his hair tousled and his puffy eyes, he still looks gorgeous and you find it slightly unfair how little effort the man needs to be this perfect.

Harry heads to take a shower and in the meantime you decide to start making breakfast while the coffee is brewing.

“Oh you shouldn’t have,” Harry breathes out with a thankful smile when he arrives downstairs and sees the almost ready breakfast and the smell of coffee hits his nose.

“I have all the time in the world this week,” you chuckle as you fill a plate with eggs and veggies before you slide it over to him on the kitchen island. You fix a plate for yourself as well and join him on the stool beside him.

“So… are you still up for the date?” Harry asks shyly, glancing over at you.

“Didn’t really change my mind since yesterday,” you chuckle.

“Would you be up to do it today?”

“So, eager, huh?” you tease him, nudging him with your shoulder and he just shyly shrugs, trying to push down his smile. “Today works fine for me. What do you have in mind?”

“I’m not ruining the surprise,” he smirks at you, sipping on his coffee.

“Alright, then just tell me the dress code.”

“Wear that lilac dress you wore to that birthday party the other week.”

You know exactly what dress he is talking about, but it stuns you that he actually remembers what you wore two weeks ago. He only saw you for a few minutes before you left, yet he still remembered the dress.

“Alright,” you smile to yourself before turning back to your breakfast.

Though you have a few extra sessions booked for the week, your Monday stayed empty and without Izzy roaming around the house you have to realize that you can easily get bored without her. You got so used to being with her all day long that now being home on your own is so weird.

You spend the first half of the day lounging at the pool, something you’ve been dying to do, but you were too busy with a certain little girl. Then you have a nice lunch and after reading the book you’ve been putting away for weeks, you realize that you’ve run out of things to do. So you text Trevor if he wants a ride home after school and of course he does, so after fixing yourself up you drive down to his school.

“Hi there, how was your day?” you ask when he sits into the car, throwing his backpack to the backseat before he buckles himself up as you back out of the parking spot.

“Fantastic, as always!” he fake cheers, making you laugh.

“Want to get ice-cream?”

“You know I always want ice-cream,” he snorts smirking at you.

You haven’t met Trevor ever since things become kind of… romantic between you and Harry, and you didn’t want to tell him over the phone, so now is the perfect time to break him the news. When the two of you are sitting on the terrace of your favorite ice-cream place, your paper cup filled with chocolate and strawberry ice-cream while he chose mango and cookie dough, you finally start the conversation.

“So, I have news for you.”

“Oh my God,” he breathes out, closing his eyes for a second. “Are you leaving the country?”

“What? No! Why do you think that?”

“I don’t know, but last time you said you had news for me you moved out from home. Figured it might be something similar,” he shrugs, returning to his ice-cream.

“Well, no, I’m not leaving the country.”

“Okay, then what is it?”

“I’m kind of… dating Harry. You know, my boss.” You have no idea why you felt the need to add the last part when he has already met him, but you feel a bit nervous. Trevor is like your best friend and he had a bad feeling about Keith when you started dating him, but you ignored it. If he has a similar feeling about Harry now, you are definitely considering them this time.

“Oh!” his eyebrows shoot up. “What do you mean kind of?”

“Well, we haven’t had our first date yet, it’s happening tonight, but things have… changed.”

“So you slept with him?”

“No, I haven’t,” you chuckle nervously. “We kissed. A few times and… we talked about where it’s heading and we both think it’s going to turn into something… more serious.”

“That’s great!” he smiles at you and it seems completely genuine. “See, I told you it’s gonna happen sooner or later,” he smirks coyly, before he licks his spoon off.

“You were just drawing random assumptions because of his looks and wealth, Trevor. But it’s not about that.”

“Oh, I know you’re not a gold digger,” he teases you, making you roll your eyes at him. “So your first date is tonight? What are you guys doing?”

“I don’t know, he didn’t tell me,” you shrug with a small smile.

“Mysterious,” Trevor wiggles his eyebrows at you. “So he is finally ready to get back on the dating scene, huh?”

“Um, he is working on it. It’s a little hard for him, but he’s been changing for the better.” “That’s great. I’m happy for you,” he smiles at you. “Really, you deserve it after that asshole.”

“Yeah, I hope it’ll go well,” you smile back at him with a sigh before you return to your ice-cream.

After dropping Trevor off at one of his friends you head back home. For your surprise, Harry’s car is already parked on the driveway with another one that doesn’t belong to him when you pull up and walking in you find him with Niall in the kitchen.

“Oh, hi boys!” you greet them.

“Y/N! You are stunning as always!” Niall beams, pulling you into a tight hug right away.

“Thanks,” you chuckle patting his back. “What are you guys up to?”

They share a look and it tells you right away you are not supposed to know whatever they were talking about so you just nod smiling.

“Alright, got it,” you chuckle.

“How was your day?” Harry asks, hoping to change the subject smoothly.

“Great! Met with Trevor, just dropped him off.”

“Oh, how is he doing?”

“He is fine, struggling a little with math lately, but he is doing great,” you chuckle.

“So you have a brother. Do you happen to have a sister, maybe?” Niall asks with a coy smile and while Harry just rolls his eyes at his friend, you can’t help but laugh.

“Sorry, no,” you tell him the bad news. “But… I have a good friend and I think you’d like her.”

“A friend? Do you have a picture of her?” Niall beams, already excited about it. Pulling your phone out you show him a picture of you and Heather so he can have a good look at her. You actually think that Heather and Niall would be a good match, she might even be the girl Niall would give up his bachelor life finally.

“When are we having a double date?” he simply asks, making you and Harry laugh at the same time.

“I’ll see what I can do for you.” You let the boys finish whatever they were doing before you arrived so you go to your room, unwinding a little before you have to start getting ready for the date. Around five there’s a soft knock on your door and as you call out, Harry pops his head inside.

“Hi,” he smiles nervously as the rest of his body walks into your sight.

“Hi!” you smile back, putting your book to the side.

“I just realized I never told you the time when you should be ready tonight,” he chuckles nervously. “Is six good for you?”

“Yeah, that’s great.”

“Alright. Then… see you soon, I guess,” he smiles nodding before he walks out of your room. You can’t help a small chuckle at how nervous he seems about tonight, as if he wasn’t still sure about your feelings for him, when you’ve made it clearer than daylight.

You get the best kind of jitters while getting ready for the date. It’s like you’re in high school again and your crush has finally asked you out so you want to look your best. Since Harry already suggested you what to wear, you don’t have to spend an hour standing in your closet, trying to find the right choice. For the makeup you go for a little smokey look and you do a loose bun styles for your hair, remembering the words your mother always told you when you were a teenager.

“A woman’s greatest and most secret weapon is her neck. Men go crazy if you show them your neck and they don’t even realize it!”

You spray some perfume on yourself and put on a pair of nude heels before packing your necessities into a purse that matches your outfit. You finish with everything just in time, a soft knock signaling that Harry has returned. Checking yourself one last time in the mirror you open the door and reveal him standing at the door, wearing a pair of fitted purple dress pants with a crispy shirt on, matching your dress perfectly. And the cherry on top is the bouquet of red roses in his hands.

“Hi,” he breathes out with a nervous smile and his gaze travels down your figure, a blush tinting his cheeks.

“Hi!”

“You look… beautiful,” he smiles shyly and your heart is fluttering in your chest. It’s really happening, you are going on a date with Harry!

“Thank you,” you chuckle softly.

“These are for you. I know it’s weird that I’m picking you up from your bedroom and I’m not giving you this at the front door, but…” he chuckles as he hands you the flowers.

“It’s really nice, thank you,” you smile, taking the flowers before moving into the bedroom to put them in a vase quickly. Harry takes just about two steps into the room and stops with his hands hidden in his pockets as he eyes every movement of yours before you finish with the flowers and let him know that you’re ready to do. He holds out his hand and you take it gladly as you head out of the house.

He doesn’t tell you where you’re going, not even when you try to annoy him and bully him into finally hinting something, but you should have known that he wouldn’t break. He has a four year old daughter who is constantly bugging him, he has endless patience.

When he parks down in front of a modern apartment complex you kind of get really confused, because nothing around seems like the location you’d choose for a date.

“Are you gonna kidnap me and keep me hostage in one of the apartments here?” you ask him with narrowed eyes as the two of you head inside, taking the elevator up.

“It’s not kidnapping, you came willingly,” he smirks down at you.

“That I did.”

When you’re at one of the apartments you are really lost about what he had planned and he finally breaks your suffering and tells you what’s gonna happen as he keys the two of you into the apartment.

“This is Niall’s place, he let us use it tonight. My mum always says that cooking together is a good first date, because food brings people together and you can easily get to know each other,” he explains as you walk into the modern, but definitely very manly home. “I didn’t want to do it at home, because we are always there, so… Niall was nice enough to lend us his place for our date.”

You see that there are two full grocery bags on the kitchen counter and the table is already set for two, you wonder if Harry was here earlier, or Niall did the work for him. Either way, it’s such a thoughtful gesture and a perfect first date.

“Where is he tonight?” you ask with a small smile.

“He is visiting his mother, for a change,” Harry chuckles, knowing well you thought he would be out with a woman probably. “He said he won’t be back until later tomorrow so we can even sleep here, but I thought it would be better if we went home.”

“So what are we making?” you ask curiously as you peek into one of the grocery bags.

“We are going to attempt to make gnocchi with some killer tomato sauce. And brownies for dessert,” he adds with a small smile.

“That sounds great, what can I help with?”

“Let me just quickly pack everything out and then we have to peel the potatoes, yeah?”

“Alright,” you nod, your gaze wandering over to the spacious living room. “Can I look around?”

“Sure,” he nods while he is already elbows deep in one of the bags.

Niall’s place looks like it came right off the pages of an interior design magazine, the furnishing is modern and more on the dark color range, but not too much to make it appear depressing. Right next to his huge TV there’s a floor to ceiling bookcase filled with books mostly about music and art and you realize you don’t even know what Niall does for a living. It just never came up between his heavy flirting sessions.

“I never asked, but what does Niall do?” you ask calling out to Harry.

“Oh, he is a freelancer music producer. Tried to offer him a permanent spot at my company, but he prefers his freedom, like with everything else in his life,” he chuckles. “But he is a good one, we used to make music together when we were younger.”

Just as he says that, you spot a picture of the two of them on the shelves and your lips part in a bit of a shock when you realize that Harry used to have long hair. Leaning closer you inspect the photo better and you feel like you’re looking at two entirely different people. Niall’s hair was bleached blonde which is already enough to make him like another version of himself, but Harry is definitely the biggest shocker. He was rocking some loose shirt with the top buttons left undone, his necklace with the cross pendant peeking out and though the photo ends somewhere above his knees, you can tell that he is wearing skinny jeans, something you never thought you would ever see him in.

“You had long hair?” you ask joining him in the kitchen. Harry’s eyes shoot up to him, then he looks in the direction of the living room, a smile tugging on his lips as he probably remembers what photo you must have just seen.

“Uh, yeah. Yes I did, when I was about 21 or 22.”

“I could hardly believe that was you in the picture, with the long locks and the skinny jeans,” you tease him.

“Yeah, I was a lot different then, but after all, it’s been an entire decade since then,” he sniggles.

“Why did you cut it?”

“Um, I was pretty new in the business back then and had a few assholes telling me that it’s not too masculine and all that. It was a time when I cared more about others’ opinion than I should have so I kind of gave in and cut it.”

“I’m sorry they ruined it for you. But I’m glad you don’t care about others that much now,” you smile at him softly. Harry’s eyes flicker down to his painted nails and ring-clad fingers and you just know what he is about to ask before he even speaks up.

“Does it… bother you? That I paint my nails and stuff?”

“No,” you shake your head confidently. “Not at all. I mean, I never saw you without them, but at this point I think it wouldn’t even feel right,” you add with a small laugh that brings Harry’s smile back as well. Stepping closer you kiss his shoulder softly before turning your focus on the food in front of you. “So, let’s peel these bad boys!”

It’s the first time you and Harry actually work together in the kitchen for more than just five minutes. He is always in control at home, taking over everything with Izzy and you know it’s a good bonding time for them, so you never even tried to push your way into it without their invitation. But now the bonding is all about you and him and so far you’ve been a great team. The cutest thing is that he brought you matching aprons to protect your clothes and you look like you are in some cooking show for sure.

You keep asking questions from each other while working on the food, Harry asks you some more about your childhood and teenage years and he shares stories from college where he had this friend group of five. Niall was part of the group as well and he said he is still in touch with the other boys, but they all do very different things now, the other three are already fathers themselves and live far away, so they don’t get to see each other that much.

You are making the little dumplings while Harry is on duty for cooking them, relentlessly fishing them out of the boiling water once they swim up to the top. When that’s done, Harry starts making the sauce while you take care of the brownies. It all works out well, everything gets done easily and while the dessert is in the oven you start eating what you just created.

“Mm, this sauce is really good!” you hum when you take the first bite.

“It’s my mum’s recipe,” he smiles proudly.

At the beginning of the evening you could tell that he felt nervous, not essentially about being with you, but probably because of the thought of going on a date in general. But as time passed by and he got more and more comfortable in the situation, you could see him loosen up and calm his nerves, so now that you are eating the dinner you made together and drinking a glass of fine wine, talking about anything and everything, you feel like he is actually enjoying something he was probably terrified from before.

When the brownies are done the two of you take advantage of the nice evening weather and Niall’s amazing balcony, moving out to the lounge chairs, munching on the dessert with the skyline of the city in front of you. At one point you start playing a game of would you rather, and after a while you ask each other the most random things, cracking each other up continuously. You don’t even realize and it’s already past ten, you completely talked the evening away, but you don’t regret any of it.

You clean up Niall’s place, leaving it just the way you got it, putting some leftovers into his fridge for him as a thank you for lending you his place before you head out.

Harry keeps a hand on you at all times on the way home, he is either holding your hand over the console, or rests his palm on your thigh above your knee, but either way, he just keeps the physical touch up always. Not that you mind, you are doing kind of the same, enjoying his closeness.

Arriving home you can feel a kind of tension growing, but not a bad kind. You want him. Your desire to go further than just kissing has grown immensely tonight, but you have no idea how he feels about taking it further and you don’t want to push him past his boundaries.

“Want to… sleep with me again?” he shyly asks when you’re going up the stairs.

“Yeah, I would love that,” you smile at him, giving him a quick peck on his cheek.

When you part ways in the hallway he probably expects you to do your night time routine, but you have other plans. Grabbing your polaroid camera you pad your way over to his room, knocking on the door, hoping he is not in the shower yet. When he calls out for you, he is standing at his dresser, the first few buttons of his shirt are already undone, but he is still dressed.

“I just thought that… we could snap a picture as a nice memento of our first date,” you shyly explain to him, holding the camera up.

“Oh, yeah! Okay, how do you... how should we…?” he looks around the room and you step to his dresser, placing the camera to the top of it.

“It’s got a timer,” you explain as you set it up and tell him where to stand so you can check if he is in the frame. When it’s all set, you glance back at him. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” he nods shyly. You push the button and step back to him. “What should we…” he starts, but you already know what you want the picture to be like.

Cupping his face in your hands you pull him down and kiss him sweetly, for the first time tonight. You’ve noticed he hasn’t tried to kiss you all night, being a gentleman, but you’ve been craving it since he showed up at your door with the roses.

He hesitates for a moment, but eventually curls his arms around you, kissing you back softly. The timer goes off and the flash indicates that the photo has been taken. Pulling back you smile at him before taking the photo from the camera, setting it to the side to develop. Harry steps behind you, his arms coming to curl around your waist and you turn in his hold to face him.

“Hi,” you smile at him giddily. “Thanks for today.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he answers softly, making your heart flutter. You press your lips at his, kissing him hard and passionate, like you wanted all evening. He is quick to return the kiss with just as much passion as you put into it, his hands finding your waist as he slowly pulls you with him until the back of his legs hit the bed. He sits down and pulls you with him so you sit on his lap straddling him, never breaking the kiss as you settle in his arms, his hands roaming up and down your back.

Your kisses move from his delicious lips to his chiseled jawline and down his neck, your fingers working on the buttons of his dress shirt. You want him, you need him, he is all you can think about and the taste of his skin on your tongue is making you lose your mind.

His hands move up your thighs right to your bum, giving it a good squeeze, making you moan against the crook of his neck.

“Fuck,” he growls, throwing the two of you to the bed, getting on top of you before his lips attack yours, kissing you with a demand heatedly. His lips move smoothly against yours, devouring you with every suck and lick, making you dizzy in the head with such little effort.

He starts kissing down your neck, through your collarbone and whatever is showing in your dress on your chest. Your fingers lace through his messy curls, keeping him close to you as you try to control your moans and gasps. His fingers hook under the thin straps of your dress and he is about to pull them down when he stops, breathing heavily against your skin.

Harry lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours as he is panting through his parted lips and you cup his cheeks in your hands.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me,” you tell him softly, knowing well his mind is probably racing right now.

“I just…” he starts quietly. “I haven’t been with anyone since… Maggie,” he admits in a whisper and your gaze softens on him.

“And I haven’t been with anyone since Keith,” you admit truthfully. “We don’t have to do anything tonight. I’m fine with just sleeping if that’s all you want to do.”

“No, I want to… I want to do things, I just… I’m not used to it, I guess,” he breathes out as you run your fingers through his hair.

“It’s okay. We can take it slow. Whatever you feel comfortable with,” you assure him pecking his lips softly.

“Is it… Is it okay if we just… touch?” He is clearly feeling a bit embarrassed to ask, but you will not make him feel bad for asking for whatever he wants. Pulling him down for another kiss you smile up at him.

“Touching is perfect. It’s all up to you,” you tell him and see the gratitude in his eyes right away.

Removing yourself off of his lap you climb back on the bed, pulling him with you until he is holding himself up above you. Your eyes meet for a second again before leaning down he kisses you slowly, taking his time with you. He is holding himself up on one arm while his other hand finds your hip, gently squeezing it when his tongue slides into your mouth through the kiss. Your hands move down his chest and you start unbuttoning his shirt until it falls open and he shimmies it off with a soft chuckle.

“Let’s get rid of the dress too,” you breathe out, reaching down for the hem of your dress, pulling it up until it’s off, leaving you in only your underwear. You’re wearing a matching set with a strapless bra and as you lie back on the bed Harry’s eyes basically devour you, his gaze running up and down your body several times.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he breathes out before leaning down and kissing you again, his hand cupping your side before wandering over to your stomach and up to your chest. He runs his hand over your chest, gently squeezing it, making you moan into the kiss.

“And you’re wearing too much clothes,” you grin as you reach down and start undoing his purple pants you ogled him quite often tonight. Harry chuckles as he holds himself up for you to work the button and the zipper on his pants before he takes over the task and gets rid of them himself, leaving him in only his boxer briefs and you have to hold yourself back from gasping when you see the growing bulge between his legs.

You don’t get to eye him for too long, because he is back to kissing you, his body pressing up against yours as you let your hands roam his strong back, his skin burning under your touch. His lips travel down the line of your neck to your chest and his hand snakes behind your back, but he stops before he could do anything with the clasp of your bra. Glancing up at you he gives you a questioning glare, asking for your permission.

“You can take it off,” you softly tell him nodding. His fingers are quick to undo it and a moment later you’re lying with a bare chest underneath him. His hand moves to your chest again and he kneads your breast again, this time with nothing between your skin and his palm. You whimper under his touch, you’ve been so starved to be touched this way and now that it’s happening, it’s hard to control yourself, but Harry doesn’t seem to mind seeing you react to what he is doing.

His lips return to your mouth and while he kisses you with so much passion, he slowly lays himself down next to you, so you’re facing each other sideways on the bed. He pulls you closer to him until you’re flushed against his hard chest and while your hand roams around his shoulders and back, his palm slides down your spine, over your waist until he calms bum, pushing you even closer to him. His clothed erection presses against your thigh and you can’t help but whimper his name at the feeling.

His kisses slow down and his touch loosens on you until he pulls back, seemingly just for air, but you can tell his head is starting to race again, spiraling thoughts taking over his mind.

“Do you want me to take over control?” you softly ask him, pushing his unruly curls out of his forehead. His gaze softens and he nods shortly with gratefulness lacing through his look.

He watches you intently as you push yourself up into a sitting position, he rolls to his back and keeps his gaze on you as you hook your fingers into your panties, getting rid of them before doing the same for him with his boxers. He lifts his hips up as you pull down the elastic material, revealing his hard cock to your greedy eyes. You want nothing more than to taste him, but he said he just wants to touch so you don’t try to overstep his limits, leaving this desire of yours to another time. Instead, you lean down, capturing his lips in a sweet, reassuring kiss that everything is going fine to calm his nerves as much as you can, while you place your palm to his lower stomach, moving down slowly until you find his hard cock, wrapping your hand around his length and giving it a few gentle stroke.

“Fuck,” he breathes out against your parted lips and you can’t push a smile down.

You kiss his lips, his cheeks, his jawline, everywhere around his face while you keep pumping him, spreading some of his precum down his length to help your hand move smoother. Your actions awaken something in him, he grabs your face in both his hands, kissing you hard before he pushes you to your back, becoming the one on top. He parts your legs with pushing a knee between your thighs and while you keep up with your motions, he gets down to action as well. One of his large palms runs down your abdomen, stroking your lower belly gently before it moves to your inner thigh, spreading you even more for him before you feel his touch on your heated and dripping wet core. First, he just teasingly runs two fingers through your folds, testing how wet you are and when he realizes that you are more than ready to whatever he has planned, he moves his thumb to your sensitive clit, drawing circles with the pad of his finger, sending a wave of pleasure up your spine immediately.

“Harry!” you moan his name, running your thumb over the head of his cock that makes him gasp and stop his motions for a moment before he returns to pleasuring you.

He buckles his hips into your touch while his fingers move down from your clit until he is teasing your entrance, just circling around it but not pushing into you. Rolling your hips you signal him that you want the teasing to end and he luckily gets the hint, slowly sliding two fingers inside you, curling them gently and it makes your eyes roll back immediately. He rests his forehead on your shoulder as he starts moving his fingers in and out of you while you try your best to keep up your pumping motion as well, moving your other hand to his balls to give him some of that extra pleasure and he seems to be liking what you’re doing, because your name keeps falling from his lips as keeps fingering you, curling his digits just the right way inside you from time to time.

“Fuck, Y/N, I won’t last long,” he pants, his lips brushing against your neck before he kisses the soft skin above your collarbone.

“It’s alright. Just want you to feel good, H,” you assure him, though you’re getting closer to your release as well.

“Are you close?” he asks out of breath, still holding himself up above you, leaning onto his other arm next to your head.

“Yeah, don’t stop,” you nod, turning your head so your lips could meet for a kiss again.

You can tell he is trying hard to hold himself back, to stretch it out as long as he can. A torturous look tugs on his face and you kiss his temple, wanting nothing more than to see him finally reach the peak.

“Let go, H. It’s alright,” you whisper against his skin and he whines at your words before you feel his cock jerk in your hand and he cums under your touch.

You keep stroking him as he rides his high, gasping and panting your name while he spills his semen onto your naked stomach. His fingers stopped moving inside you as he found his relief, but as soon as you feel him recovering from his orgasm, he goes right back to where he left it, desperately wanting to pleasure you as well.

“Harry!” you moan when he hits a specific spot inside you, tingling your nerves just right, your hands come to clasp onto his broad shoulders.

“Cum for me, babe. Let me see you feel good,” he whispers before his lips occupy your mouth again, kissing you with so much passion and vigor, your senses are starting to overload.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” you gasp feeling your toes curl and Harry picks his pace up, his thumb coming in contact with your clit as he tries to make you reach your high.

And then it finally happens. You stop breathing for a moment, the intensity of it washing over your whole body. It’s been so long since you felt this good with anyone, and just the thought of doing this with Harry probably adds a lot to the equation.

He slows his fingers down, but makes sure to curl them inside you every time he pumps them in, and you repeat his name over and over again until you finally catch your breath. Your gaze meets his, and you see a happy and satisfied shine in his green irises as he leans down and kisses you sweetly, pulling his fingers out of you gently.

“M’gonna get a towel,” he murmurs, pecking your lips one last time before he gets up from the bed and walks into the bathroom while you lie on his bed, totally gone and worn out from your orgasm. Harry comes back with a damp washcloth and cleans up the mess he made on you before gently moving to between your legs, taking such good care of you. He drops the cloth to the floor, not wanting to leave the bed again as he pulls the covers over your bodies, pulling you into his arms.

“How are you feeling?” you softly ask, pecking his toned chest.

“I’m good.”

Lifting your head you search for his eyes, wanting to make sure he didn’t regret any of it, but he seems calm and rested for a change. Smiling up at him you push yourself up a little so you can connect your lips before you snuggle back to his side and let yourself slowly drift off to sleep, listening to his steady heartbeat under your face.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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[silv3rswirls]

When I Look At You

Request’s are open!

Anon asks: Ahh you’re srsly one of my favorite writers! If it’s not too much to ask, could you write one where yoongi is head over heels for his gf?! like just soooo much fluff and all that cutesy stuff to the point where i’d bawl ahaha. i’d appreciate it! thank you so much <3

Thank you so much anon 🥺 I hope you enjoy 💕

Pairing: Min Yoongi/reader

Summary: Anyone could tell that Yoongi was undoubtedly head over heels for you. 

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1k

It was no secret among the dorm that Yoongi was nothing but head over heels for his girlfriend. Whenever you were set to visit him he would remind the boys to be on their best behavior, telling them to give the two of you your space, or not to pester you. He always made sure he had time to spare with you, learning to balance his work with his relationship through trial and error, but now he was proud to say that things were wonderful. You visited him often at the studio, came out with the rest of Bangtan for dinner or to hang out from time to time. He also brought you over to spend time at the dorm a lot, spending the night together talking and enjoying each other's company. 

The boys loved to tease the two of you. They were happy for Yoongi of course, he seemed to be doing so well and happily at your side, but they loved to comment on how soft he was with you, or how sickening it was to watch your interactions at times. Yoongi would always just roll his eyes and go back to showering you with attention and love.

Today, like many other weekends, you had come to stay the night with Yoongi. You were free from work and Yoongi would have a little more downtime than usual, prompting the perfect sleepover to be planned by you. Yoongi hugged you the minute you walked into the dorm, shooing away Jimin and Jin’s prying eyes. “It’s good to see you” he mumbled into your neck as he held you close. 

“I missed you too” you smiled and Yoongi pulled away. He took your overnight bag and went to set it in his room while you went for the living room. 

“Y/n” Jimin sang, smiling with a wave. 

“Hey Jimin, how’s it going?”

“Same as always” he shrugged, “are you staying the night?” You nodded, plopping down onto the sofa beside him. 

“Yoongi and I have planned the perfect date night.” You smiled, “it’s been a while since we’ve been able to really do anything, work has been busy for us both.” Jimin nodded, looking from you to Yoongi as he walked back in. “Is anyone else home?”

“Jin is in his room I think” Yoongi informed, leaning over the back of the sofa and grabbing your hand. “Everyone else is out for the evening.” You nodded, getting up as Yoongi tugged you gently. You both went for the comfort of Yoongi’s bed right away, ready to just relax until later. He tossed you one of his hoodies to put on as if it was routine and set your things aside. He laid down, opening his arms with an expecting look and smiling when you crawled into them. You made yourself comfortable with your head resting on his chest and arm over his stomach. Yoongi pulled you close. You talk about each of your days so far, what was going on at work, and the general stuff. Eventually, you both slipped into a comfortable silence, cuddling close as Yoongi closed his eyes and played with your hair. 

“I’m so lucky” you sighed, causing Yoongi to hum.

“Why?” 

“You’re so good to me.” You stated, “I’ve been thinking about you a lot, you always make me feel so special.”

“You do the same to me” Yoongi murmurs, “you love me just as much.”

It was always easy to see the love between you and Yoongi. Anyone could see it through your glances to one another that always seemed to last just a little longer than they should with adoration or yearning behind them. Your hand never went upheld for a second whether you were in public or not, in general, he was always touching you in some way. His hand resting on the small of your back while walking, or he would absentmindedly draw shapes onto your thigh and hands. Yoongi was always talking about you in his way, little thing here and there. Your fights never lasted long. Sometimes things got heavy and you would take time to cool off, but the both of you always came back together to talk it out and apologize. You couldn't recall a time that Yoongi had ever let you go to bed angry or sad because of him. You worried for him and he did for you. You weren’t sure how many times you had brought him food while he was working, supported him through horrible writing slumps, or just provided him comfort after a stressful schedule. He did the same, he always asked about your day and if you seemed upset he listened so closely, never tired of hearing it and trying to help. You both had just grown to understand how to comfort one another in the best way.

“Y/n” Yoongi spoke, his fingers tracing up and down your arm. You hummed, “have I told you I loved you today?”

“You did this morning” you smiled, he had texted you to wish you a good day at work and reminded you to come over later in the evening, ending it with a simple I love you text. 

“Well, I'm saying it again, I love you so much.” Yoongi sighed, shifting you both so that he was on his side and you were next to him. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed his head into your neck. “Whenever I look at you I can’t help but think about how much I love you, I always think I should say it more.”

“You say it enough.”

“Mm, I could never tell you enough. When I look at you I see one of the most amazing people in my life. I see how beautiful you are, smart and hardworking. You're so good to me, I love you so much.” He pressed little kisses to your shoulder. 

“Yoongi…” You smiled, your face heating up despite having heard him say such things all the time. “I love you so much.”

“So perfect” he muttered, looking down at you as he propped himself up on his elbow. His eyes were tired but took in your features with warmth in them. “I mean it” he leaned down, brushing your hair back to kiss your forehead. “Don’t ever think otherwise.”

“How could I when you remind me so often?” You giggled. Yoongi smiled down at you, there was no questioning just how in love he was, just one look from him told you.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 7

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: None? I think? Please let me know if I missed something Notes: This is incredibly dialogue heavy, and I actually don't feel as confident about this chapter as some of the past ones? Hopefully y'all like it, I mean at least the ending is cute (or cheesy, depending on who you ask). PS: Not sure how many chapters there will be in total, other than at least 3 more (one of which ill, in fact, get a little h*rny again. actually, h*rnier). Past Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco, Pt. 6: Elegy

Chapter 7: Harmony

“We need to talk, yeah?” Daniela asked, nearly stuttering, a sort of nervous that you had never seen her exhibit before. The first thing you think is that she’s really, really cute when she doesn’t know what to do. After that you actually process what she said. Relief floods your chest, followed by warmth, and you make a mental note to thank Bela the next time you see her. In the meantime, you were unable to contain your happiness. Out of instinct you move closer to Daniela, smiling softly, quietly reaching one of your hands towards hers. There’s no hesitance in her response. Instead of taking your hand she pulls you in for a hug, opting to rest her chin against your shoulder. Admittedly you’re a little surprised, but you return the motion nonetheless. “Oh, little songbird…”

Heart racing, you softly press against Daniela, turning your head so that you could place a single, brief kiss against her exposed collarbone. For a moment the two of you just stay like that, holding each other close. When you pull away, remembering that you still hadn’t said anything, you find that Daniela is blushing from the neck up. In turn, the sight makes you blush. You can’t help but reach out and run your fingers through her hair. Though you can’t see yourself, you know your eyes are filled with affection.

“I love when you look at me like this,” Daniela whispered, not entirely meaning to voice her thoughts. Then you’re blushing harder, smile small but sweet. “Mmm, you’re just darling, aren’t you?”

“Not nearly as much as yourself, my Lady. To be in your company is to be the luckiest soul in the world. I cannot even begin to describe the feelings of which you inspire in me,” you replied, trying not to stumble over your words, barely able to process any thoughts other than ‘pretty lady likes me ahh’. Thankfully, you still remembered a few tricks from language arts class. Who knew studying the classics could make you more romantic? At least one English teacher, probably. “I’ll have plenty of time to try, though… after we talk about things, that is. Is there somewhere private we can talk? I’m not terribly eager for your mother to overhear.”

“Are you sure we can’t talk about how much you like me for a while longer?” Daniela asked, faking a pout. When you perk a brow at her antics, she shifts a little, forcing herself to be a little more serious (at least for the time being). “If you insist, my sweet thing. I’d suggest my room-” she winks at you- “but I doubt we’d stay talking for long, would we? Maybe the library? Neither of my sisters tend to go there around this time of day, and I can hardly remember the last time mother went there.”

“Well, no one from the day shift is scheduled to organize things until later this week, so… sounds like a date to me,” you chimed, enjoying the way that Daniela’s face lit up in response. “There’s just one thing I have to take care of first. Wouldn’t want my roommates to think something has happened to me, now would we?” With that said you linked your arm with your partner’s, setting off towards the servants quarters.

—————————————–

“Oh thank goodness, we were starting to get worried!” Daphne exclaimed as you quietly ducked into your room. For a second you freeze in place, hoping to whatever higher powers may be that she hadn’t seen Daniela behind you. Certainly the vampire would have moved out of sight?... Despite your assumption, you do see Daphne hesitate for a moment, gazing at the now closed door. Thinking quickly, you give a little wave to draw her attention elsewhere. Seemingly it works like a charm, with her attention returning to you, and so you release an internal sigh of relief. Now you just had to think of an excuse for why you’d be staying up late.

“It’s fine- I’m fine, really. Just had to carry something for one of the Ladies,” you lied, trying not to be specific enough to possibly contradict facts you weren’t aware of. “I, uh, kinda have to go back out, though? There are some piano books I need to find before tomorrow morning. I’ve already found a few, but apparently there’s at least one that goes over some technical practice songs, and I think D-” you almost wince, but lean into it, stuttering instead- “th-think that Lady Daniela would enjoy the variety. Not sure how long it’ll take me to find the books, so don’t stay up waiting for me. I promise I’ll still get enough sleep to function tomorrow.”

“So the lessons haven’t been canceled? That’s good to hear,” Daphne said, nodding slowly. The words catch you off guard, and you tilt your head to the side in confusion. Noticing your expression, your roommate is quick to explain. “After whatever happened yesterday… we weren’t sure if we’d ever hear you play again. Not that we know what happened, just that Lady Daniela was, well, upset, and you stopped playing sooner than usual. But I suppose if the lessons were canceled completely… I doubt Lady Dimitrescu would let you go that easily, huh?”

Again, you shift awkwardly, wondering how Daniela must feel hearing all of this. But just like that Daphne shakes her head, clearing her thoughts, and gives a little shrug.

“Don’t stay up too late, okay? I know you already promised, but we both know you’ll lose track of time if you aren’t careful. If you aren’t in bed by the time the sun reaches its peak, I swear we are gonna have words!” Both of you laugh before Daphne waves you off with a smile. Still, you wait to open the door until she (and the other maidens) has her back to you. Better safe than sorry, right?

—————————————–

Somehow the room felt different in a million ways, now that you were here with Daniela. There was something about the way she moved, freely, eyes and fingers running down the spines of familiar books. Even if you had not seen it before, it felt like the library was overflowing with magic. What I would give, you think, to see the whole world tinted in shades of her. Again you find yourself blushing as you followed Daniela towards a small sitting area. One of the chairs is practically a recliner, with plenty of space, and you realize what she has planned mere moments before she acts.

Next thing you know, you’re being pulled closer to her, practically lifted into the air. Then you’re falling back, right on top of a giggling Daniela. By the time you’ve regained your senses, you’re in her lap, held just tight enough to keep you from getting up. She’s watching your face closely, smirking with pure satisfaction.

“Are we going to be able to talk like this?” You asked, a little unsure yourself, already distracted by the soft curve of her jawline. Even as you speak you’re eying her, imagining what it would feel like to trail kisses along her skin until she was restless… Thankfully she responds before your mind gets too carried away.

“Of course we are, little songbird. Probably. If you behave,” Daniela teased, gently playing with your hair as she did. You can’t help but laugh when she suggests that you are the one who needs to control yourself. “Alright, alright, I get your point. I just… I think that it’s easier for me to, fuck, I don’t know. Relax? It’s easier for me to relax like this, holding you, getting to kiss that lovely neck of yours-” she pauses to demonstrate- “and that means I won’t freak out like last time. Or so goes my thought process, anyway.”

“In that case…” You’re sitting perpendicular to her now, still holding on tight. One hand cups her cheek, gently caressing the skin, before you lean in for a kiss. The two of you enjoy yourselves for a minute, glad to have this time together, more glad to be reassured of each other’s affection. To think that you wouldn’t even be able to meet her gaze if not for Bela’s intervention… Eventually you pull back, knowing that you did need to talk. “I care about you, firefly, and I want things between us to be real, and healthy, but I…”

The words died in your throat, a lump you couldn’t quite swallow, when memories sprung up like weeds in your brain. Communication mattered to you for a thousand reasons, and you weren’t blind to the irony of one of those reasons making you freeze up.

“I haven’t… done this before, not for real,” Daniela replied, mistaking your paues for uncertainty. “Apparently being an immortal, blood-drinking princess is only attractive in the realm of fiction. Maidens only ever seemed interested in a fleeting rush, or a fraction of a chance at an escape. They didn’t care for romance.” Now her tone gets bitter, and her eyebrows furrow. You can see her shoulders tense up, raising a little, making you try to snap out of your own thoughts for a few moments. By the time she speaks again, you’ve started to gently rub her back. “Maybe I should have paid more attention to my novels. How often does the monster actually get a happy ending?” She says the words with a hollow laugh. Still, she’s relaxed a little under your touch, even leaning into it.

“You’ve… done some bad things. Hurt a lot of people, and I can’t pretend that doesn’t scare me,” you started to say, ignoring the heartache you feel when you see Daniela’s hurt expression. “But you’re more than that. You’re soft, cute, and mischievous. More than that… I can tell that you want something beautiful. We can have that, we can make that, for ourselves, with our own hands and our own desires. But we can’t use stories as a blueprint. We can’t rely on what we’ve read, not when everything the two of us do is brand new. Not when-” you close your eyes, fighting back tears, glimpsing fragments of your last relationship- “not when I’ve already been hurt by my own misconceptions. The things we read aren’t always real, or right, or anything like what we need. What we deserve.”

“Something tells me you’re holding back a little,” Daniela murmured, barely able to get the words out. It almost looks like she’s close to crying, but her cheeks are dry, and her voice is steady. “But you’re right. What we have is better than anyone could write, anyway. You’re my little songbird, and I’m not letting you go anytime soon. Even if I have to figure out this whole ‘communication’ thing. I suppose that means I should… come clean. About a few things.” There’s a clear hesitance to her voice, like she’s embarrassed, and she’s speaking slower than usual. A blush rises to her cheeks before she takes a deep breath.

“We don’t have to talk about everything right now, if you aren’t ready. We’ve already made good progress, I think, even if half of it might be because of your sisters. Well, sister, singular. Cassandra throwing me into that wall really didn’t help anyone. Except maybe the chiropractor I will inevitably need to see,” you joked, remembering your earlier conversation with Bela.

“Hold up for a fucking second, Cassandra did what? I’m going to replace all her paint brushes with stained carpet strips, and that’s if she apologizes. Nobody fucks with my baby,” Daniela snapped, expression as serious as can be. Normally you found her anger to be terrifying. Now that she was directing it at someone else? And on your behalf?... Maybe it was a tiny bit cute. Which you tried to show, by gently bringing her in for another kiss. Of course, Daniela isn’t quite as gentle, instead kissing you hard, holding you as closely as she can. There’s a bit of possessiveness in her grip, and it makes you tense up. But as soon as you do she’s pulling back, breathing hard, eyes weighed down with concern.

“Y’know, I think she was just mad that I made you cry. And if I found out someone made you cry, I would be pretty angry. Not that I’d throw someone, partially because I don’t think I could, but still. It’s… almost cute how much your sisters care about you. Almost, just not quite,” you said, eager to draw the attention away from your reaction. Like you had told Daniela, it was okay if you weren’t ready to talk about everything. “Speaking of that, I can’t believe I haven’t apologized yet. I panicked so much, I didn’t even realize I was yelling until you picked me up. No matter how frustrated I was, I shouldn’t have-”

“Don’t, please,” Daniela interrupted, eyes closing for a moment. “I can’t believe you’re apologizing. I pinned you to the wall, and not for the usual reason!” There’s a bit of panic in her expression, and you get the feeling that she’s beating herself up inside about it. Which, based on what you had thought about what you had done, was understandable.

“Consider this: We both fucked up, and we’ve both acknowledged it now, so we could just… not talk about our regrets? At least for now,” you countered, glad to see Daniela relax and nod in response. Leaning in, you shift to rest your head against her shoulder, wanting to enjoy her proximity more. “Hey… if I’m your songbird, and you’re my firefly… are we, I don’t know… officially a couple now?”

“I was under the impression that we already were,” Daniela said, clearly a little confused. While you technically agreed with her… there was another part of you that wanted to have a little fun.

“You never asked, and I know I never did either, so…” Now you’re looking up at her, smile wide, heart beating faster than normal. “Lady Daniela, firefly of house Dimitrescu, lover of romance novels, player of pianos, keeper of my heart… Will you do me the honor of allowing me to court you? To be yours, officially, in the pursuit of affection and happiness like the village- nay, the world- has never before seen? Will you be my girlfriend?”

“How’s this for an answer, songbird?” Daniela cooed. Then she was lifting your chin from her shoulder, turning her head and bringing you closer. Your lips touch, as gentle as can be. It’s a short kiss, but one radiating with love, that ends with your foreheads pressed against each other. In this moment, you feel like you could stay in her arms for the rest of eternity. “Yes. Absolutely yes, obviously, a thousand times. I could never say no to you, especially not now, with your eyes so desperate for the sight of me, and your lips so begging to be kissed. Now, how about we celebrate, hmm?”

Just as Daphne had predicted, you end up staying awake far too late, but you were all the happier for it.

[jackrrabbit]

it will come back [pt. 2] /// Yandere Shigaraki x f!Reader

Summary: You have a bad habit of picking up strays, and the half-dead villain you find bleeding out in a dumpster is no exception. [Part 1] [Part 3]

A/N: Title from the Hozier song—“don’t let it in with no intention to keep it / jesus christ, don’t be kind to it / oh honey don’t feed it / it will come back.”

Tags/warnings: yandere, violence (not directed toward reader), crying, Shiggy REALLY likes you, reader needs a friend and a good night’s sleep, non-explicit sexual content. [In later parts: 18+, sex, other stuff]

He—Tomura—keeps visiting.

At first you think it’s because of the free medical care, and you wish you had the spine to tell him to suck it up and go see a professional. After a couple weeks turn into a couple months and his wounds fade into ragged purple scars, though, you start to think differently.

Within a short time Tomura has figured out your work schedule, and he does a decent job of not showing up after your long shifts. The unavoidable consequence of this is that he ends up monopolizing your precious days off, but you come to the realization about a month and a half in that you don’t actually mind. You like it. It’s like spending time with a friend.

Mostly you guys talk. It doesn’t seem like Tomura really has anyone to talk to the way the two of you do, but that’s probably just you projecting. It’s usually shallow stuff—TV shows you like, video games he plays, funny stories from patients you treated. Sometimes when you’re cooking for yourself, you make extra for him. (It happens a lot, actually, and at one point you bring up how much his appetite is costing you and the next time you see him he brings a bag of rice and makes you a porridge that crunches between your teeth when you try to eat it. You can’t finish yours, but he eats an entire bowl and insists that you’re being picky.)

Sometimes he sleeps over on the couch, but he’s always gone when you wake up.

The two of you skirt around the heavier stuff, and you know it’s intentional on his part. You have to resist the urge to ask him about being a villain—he’s all but confirmed it for you, and it’s human nature to be curious, isn’t it? In the same way you can’t help looking at a car crash, you want to poke and prod and find out what it is, exactly, that Tomura does for a living. That part of his life is suspiciously absent from your discussions—if you didn’t know better, you’d think he spends all of his time sleeping and playing games and breaking into your place.

On the other hand, you don’t want to know. Plausible deniability. You can accept criminality in the abstract, but you’ve treated too many victims of the bullshit hero–villain battle to be comfortable really knowing why Tomura avoids public places.

So you don’t ask about it, and Tomura doesn’t tell, and you don’t look up his name. And it’s easy. It’s nice. You’d forgotten what it’s like to come back to a home that isn’t empty.

And then one day when you get off a few hours early from your shift, you stop by a convenience store to pick up some snacks for yourself (hey, you’ve been working hard, you’re entitled to binge a little on foods that you’re afraid to look at the fat content for), and you think, Hm, I wonder if Tomura wants some.

[You: 7:49 PM] > Are you coming over today? [T: 7:49 PM] > Yeah why [You: 7:51 PM] > Getting snacks > Want some? [T: 7:51 PM] > No

[T: 8:12 PM] > When r u coming back to ur place

[T: 8:58 PM] > Hey where are you

[T: 9:39 PM] > (Y/N)?

There’s a man with a gun in the convenience store.

It takes you a second to process at first. You’re standing in the snack food aisle seeking out Oreos and debating the merits of Double Stuf vs. Mega when you catch the mumbled demand and the metallic clicking noise you’ve only ever heard in movies before. It’s a gun—you know that, but your mind dismisses it because it’s ridiculous. Guns are rare in hero society. People don’t go around robbing bodegas at gunpoint anymore.

(You should know better. You work in a goddamn ER. But you compartmentalize, and the crimes you see written across your patients’ bodies stay out of the realm of your personal life because you need them to.)

It’s only when you see the muzzle of a hunting rifle pushed up to the cashier’s sweaty neck that you really understand what’s happening.

You drop to the ground immediately, looking toward the exit but it’s shut and there’s some kind of metal…thing holding the door closed. The cashier mumbles a denial and you can hear him fumble around with the cash drawer for what feels like ages.

It’s real. This is real. You’re in the middle of a robbery. Where are the heroes? Why isn’t anyone doing anything?

God, you’re a hypocrite, cowering behind the aisle divider and waiting for someone to step up while the robber’s demands get increasingly louder and more frantic. He wants money, and the cashier (who, you remember, is a man in his sixties with hands that shake with Parkinson’s when he holds out your receipt) isn’t being fast enough.

“That’s it? There’s no more? Are you fucking kidding me, there’s gotta be a safe or something—“

“No! No, p-please, I’m sorry, this is all I have!”

You cringe, crushing your eyes closed as if that will make it go away. You’re surprised you can hear at all over the sound of your blood rushing in your ears.

“Don’t fuck with me old man, I know there’s more! Show me the safe or I’ll blow your goddamn brains out!”

No! You have to do something. You can’t just sit here. You’ve heard plenty of death threats from your patients (not to mention that one from Tomura), and you know the difference between a bluff and a serious warning. Maybe you can catch the robber off guard, try to pull the gun away? You stand up quickly, hoping against hope that you won’t regret this, but in a split second you see that the cashier has the same idea and he’s trying to pull the rifle out of the robber’s hand and—

BANG.

Something warm and wet splatters across your face.

///

Tomura is angry when you get back to the apartment. As soon as he hears your key in the lock he rises from your couch so he can grab your collar with three fingers, jerking your head up to force you to look at him. “Where have you been? Do you know how long I’ve been waiting—“

But he cuts short in the middle of his sentence. Maybe because he sees the look on your face. Or maybe he just notices the traces of blood you haven’t been able to wipe off.

“What happened,” Tomura says. It’s not a question. He adjusts his grip slightly so it’s not quite as punishing, but you hold still anyway.

You have to force your mouth open in order to speak, but when your voice comes out it’s more steady than you thought it would be. “It’s not my blood. There was a robbery at the store. The cashier got shot.”

“Oh.” He releases you and frowns. “That’s it?”

“Fuck you.” You push past him into the kitchen to get yourself a drink with trembling hands. Pantry’s out of shōchū, whiskey will just make you sicker—ahh, there it is. Baijiu. The glug glug glug of the liquor into the glass does nothing to put your nerves at ease, but you pour yourself a double anyway.

“Wait—wait.” Tomura’s hands twitch and rub over his arms like he’s trying to stop himself from grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you. “Calm down. Why are you so upset? Don’t you see this stuff every day?”

You do. You’re an ER nurse. There’s no injury you haven’t seen. But it’s not about the blood. “I...I knew him. The cashier. He was nice. He had a grandkid on the way. I—“ You bite your lip and down the baijiu in one gulp. It burns.

Tomura clearly doesn’t know how to comfort you; probably doesn’t even really know why you need to be comforted. What does it mean that death is so meaningless to him? you wonder. But you need someone to listen to you, clueless or not, and Tomura will have to do.

The baijiu is still bitter and hot down your throat when you speak again. “You know something? Know what they asked me when the heroes finally showed up and pulled us out of there, me and the corpse?”

“…What?” Tomura asks warily.

“They stuck a camera in my face and asked me if there was anything I wanted to say to the hero who saved me. Any words of gratitude I wanted to share,” you spit. Now it’s your turn to feel your hands making fists at your sides. Your fingernails scratch into your palms like the pain can be an outlet for the sudden overwhelming fury spilling over you. “They didn’t save him. They were too late.”

Tomura’s eyes widen, and through your curtain of anger you can tell he’s looking at you in a way he’s never looked at you before. It’s unlike him to even look directly at you, and when he does it’s usually in disinterest or half-sincere irritation. This, though…this is different. He’s watching you like a believer watches a prophet. You can tell—or at least some deep, ugly part of you that you hope is wrong can tell—that he’s trying not to smile.

“I hate this,” you say, and the first tear drips out of your eye and runs down your cheek. It’s awful. You don’t want to cry in front of Tomura. You don’t want to show him how weak you are. But before you can wipe it away, Tomura’s hand comes up and does it for you, smearing the tear over your cheek in a gesture that—for him—is oddly tender.

Then he hugs you.

It’s stiff and awkward, like he’s forgotten how to do it, but the intention is clear. His arms fold around your back, pulling you into his chest while his chin makes its way to rest on your shoulder. He’s leaning into you so deeply that your spine is arched back, and you stagger away from him only for him to step closer again to make up the distance.

“It’s not fair, hm,” he murmurs into your hair. His tone is the closest thing to sympathy you’ve ever heard from him, but there’s an undercurrent of excitement you can’t ignore. “They’re always too late, aren’t they? The heroes… And everyone will watch that video of you thanking the heroes, and they’ll think they’re safe too. They’ll keep going about their lives and think that nothing bad can happen to them because a hero will always be around to save them…but you and I know that’s a lie.”

It takes you a second to recognize the emotion that’s raising goosebumps over your arms while Tomura rubs circles into your back, but when it clicks you shiver because it’s fear. You’ve never really been afraid of Tomura before, even when you should’ve been. Does he realize he’s backing you up with how forcefully he’s pushing himself into you? The backs of your knees hit the arm of your couch and you topple onto it with Tomura following.

He holds himself above you on his hands, legs tangled with yours. His eyes are wild and he’s not even trying to suppress his grin now. You’re trapped lying on your back under him—pinned like a butterfly under glass.

“Get off of me,” you say as calmly as you can.

“It’s all a lie, all of it…” A hand comes up and strokes your cheek, rubbing with two fingers at a stray fleck of blood on your neck. “I’m sorry it had to be like this, but I’m so glad you understand…”

“Let me up now, Tomura.”

He holds still for a long moment—waiting, thinking, considering—and then sits up, still straddling you but loosely enough that you can scramble back away from him on the couch. Your heart is racing, but you try to slow your breaths so he doesn’t pick up on how scared you are.

“Don’t freak out. You’re no fun,” Tomura says, and you exhale a sigh of relief at how normal he sounds. You never thought you’d be so happy about him looking at you like you’re nothing.

“I think you should go,” you say carefully.

He rocks back on his heels and runs a hand through his hair. “Are you mad? I thought I could stay here tonight, like usual. Since I waited for so long.”

“I’m not mad. I just…want to be alone.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone tonight. Not after what you’ve been through.”

Oh, now you care. “Fine. Okay? Fine. You can sleep on the couch.” You’re too tired to argue any more, and you’ve never really been good at convincing Tomura to do anything he doesn’t want to. It’s a miracle he listened to you when you told him to get off you. Considering how often he breaks into your apartment, it’s not like you could keep him out anyway.

So he stays the night. He doesn’t bother you when you take a shower and go to bed, he just lies on the couch in his street clothes. When you wake up in the morning he’s disappeared like he always does, and for the first time since you met him you’re truly relieved that he’s gone.

///

You always thought it would take some level of courage you don’t possess to actually bite the bullet and look Tomura up. To do so would mean saying goodbye to whatever strange relationship the two of you have built over the months, and you’re just not brave enough to risk it.

Turns out it’s not courage that makes you type his name into the search bar. It’s cowardice. You’re lying in bed under the covers when you do it, and the blue-white screen of your laptop is the only light in the room. Your comforter is pulled up almost over your head like it’s a wall that can block out reality.

“tomura”, you enter into the search bar, but you don’t hit return. Instead, you look at the search suggestions.

> tomura shigaraki > tomura shigaraki league of villains > tomura shigaraki decay

Something about it sounds familiar. But you’re not ready. Still, after everything, you’d rather keep your eyes closed. You backspace and snap your laptop shut, and when you do your room is so dark that you think the emptiness might swallow you up.

///

[T: 5:52 PM] > Are u going to be at home tn

[T: 6:14 PM] > Hey check ur phone

[T: 6:42 PM] > Stop ignoring me > (Y/N) > (Y/N) > (Y/N) > (Y/N) > (Y/N)

[T: 6:46 PM] 3 MISSED CALLS [You: 6:50 PM] > I’m at work [T: 6:50 PM] > Don’t lie > you finished an hour ago

[T: 7:13 PM] 1 MISSED CALL [T: 7:14 PM] > You said you werent mad [You: 7:15 PM] > I’m not [T: 7:15 PM] > Then stop being a brat > im coming over > ill bring takeout

You’re nervous about seeing him, but in the two weeks since he pushed you down on the couch you’ve found yourself…missing him. Like it or not, he’s made himself a fixture in your life. So when you get home you’re brimming with anticipation, wondering who you’ll get when you open the door—the normal Tomura you’ve come to like over the past few months, or the one from that night. The villain.

But it’s just him. Good old Tomura, laden with plastic bags and containers of greasy fast food for the two of you to gorge yourselves on. You tease him for being cheap and he argues that you’re just a snob and everything seems so normal that you can almost forget the look in his red eyes when he told you that you understood.

Almost.

///

You probably have no idea how good you look when you’re crying.

Of the couple thousand views on the news channel video of your “rescue” from the convenience store robber, at least a tenth are from Tomura. Eventually he just downloads the video onto his computer so he doesn’t have to read the inane comments that the other viewers leave on the webpage. It seems like everyone but him thinks you should feel lucky that you were saved by a hero before the robber could get to you, too.

As always, the public are a bunch of shit-soaked morons. Reading the comments makes him angry, so angry he’s tempted to look into a few of these brainless sheep and see how lucky they feel when they’ve caught the attention of a violent criminal. But that wouldn’t be productive, so he saves the video externally and leaves the news website alone. It’s for the best. Besides, seeing the “views” counter on the website tick up and up by the dozen every time he refreshes is just another reminder that other people are watching this; other people are seeing how delicate and vulnerable and pretty you are with tears spilling out of your eyes and the cashier’s blood sprayed over your clothing.

Thousands of useless fucking NPCs are looking at you just like Tomura is. They’re probably thinking about how sweet you look, just like he is. And they’re probably imagining all the ways they can take advantage of your fragile emotional state, just like him.

You’re too trusting for your own good. Tomura used to think it was a virtue, and it is, but only when it comes to him. Whenever he thinks about how your face is slapped over a dozen different news websites for the whole world to see, he has to dig his fingernails into his neck to keep calm. It’s better when he can just watch the video and pretend he’s the only one seeing it.

And it’s not like not watching the video is an option. Tomura can’t resist your crying face. There’s a point around the three minute mark where your voice breaks in the middle of your statement, and sometimes Tomura skips there in the video just so he can hear that pathetic little sob and replay it over and over and over. Maybe it’s sappy, but Tomura really does feel his heart skip a beat at the way your eyes and nose are rubbed red from your misery.

How fucked up is it that he gets off watching you cry?

Would you be angry if you knew? You probably would, but you put up with so much from him already. Maybe you’d be okay with it if he told you he really and truly tried to hold out. The first dozen times Tomura watched the video, he refused to touch himself no matter how tight his pants got while you choked out your stilted answers to the reporters’ questions, but at this point he barely has to click “play” on the video before he gets hard and takes matters into his own hands.

At the end of the day, it’s your fault. Everything about you is so erotic, from your shaky voice to your pouty, bitten-red lips. Isn’t it completely normal to be aroused while looking at the person you like? And Tomura likes you, he really likes you. He doesn’t have any pictures of you, and with the high definition of the news channel’s video he can see every perfect contour of your cheekbones, every pore in your skin, every glistening wet eyelash.

It’s not that Tomura doesn’t feel sympathy for how upset you are in the video. He does! Not even just sympathy, even—he’s empathetic. He knows exactly how it feels to be let down by the heroes. How dare they tell you you need to be grateful while you’re still trying to wipe brain matter off your shirt? Always too little, too late. It’s not fair.

But if he’s being honest? As miserable as you are, Tomura is happy that you were in the store when that robber came in and that you had to watch a man you knew get his brains blown out in front of you. You need a wake-up call to lose faith in hero society. If you have to suffer some emotional trauma in the process, that seems like a fair price to pay.

And the fact that Tomura gets to jerk off to it? It’s almost like destiny.

➠ [Part 3]

[percywinchester27]

La Petite Mort

Word count: 2.1K

Pairing: Dean X Reader AU

Warnings: None, just fluff, humour and implied sex ;)

Series Summary: The reader has just shifted to a new flat and boy, someone on the floor has a really banging sex life! The passionate moans have been keeping her up for several nights in row and enough is enough! Reader has her suspicions, but is it really the green-eyed hottie from room no. 307?  

A/N: It’s a neighbours!AU. I’m finally writing one. So excited to share it with you guys. Hope y’all like it! <3

Beta: The best babe, @deanssweetheart23​​​​​

Everything was fine till the banging started. Pun very much intended.

The shift had been smooth, the job was going great and life was finally on track. You had slid under the covers with the most satisfied smile in years only to be woken up to a lady very, very, very happy with her life.

Oh yeah… oh yeah… ahhh right there… oh fuck yeah…

You sat up right in your bed, eyes wide, face hot.

Third night in a row. Third fucking night. Literally.

What in the good heavens? The landlady might have mentioned this while renting out the flat!

Shoving the pillow over your ears, you fell back onto the mattress, closing your eyes shut very tightly. Eventually sleep overtook you and you lapsed into lousy dreams of trying to catch the taxi which kept evading you. Not a metaphor for your sex life at all. Nope.

The disturbed sleep didn’t help your mood the following day. Everyone at the office thought of you as a happy-go lucky person. Lately, they were seeing this whole new dark side of you. Sleep was essential to your functioning. 

In the evening, on your way back, you stopped by the coffee shop downstairs to pick up a brownie. It was a little place; busy yet quaint. The barista, Charlie, made two hearts in your coffee instead of one. That put the biggest smile on your face. 

At least, the day was ending on a high note.

Your newly rented flat was on the third floor of a very complicated building. One staircase did not directly lead into another. An entire hallway had to be crossed to get to it. The design probably broke a hundred different by laws and someone was definitely paid off in the city civil office to get a construction permit. You did not want to imagine how the people would fare in case of a fire emergency. Learning the escape plan was like memorising the map of a treasure hunt. You escape, you win. You lose… whoops! Better luck in next life. But the rent was cheap and you were already living all the clichés of a struggling writer- one incomplete book, a job at a publishing house and addiction to coffee. So, yes, you would brave fire when it came to being able to afford a living.

Struggling with the brownie package and the coffee in your hand you jammed the key into the door. It didn’t go in. 

What the hell?

You tried again, and once more the key got jammed. On a closer look, you realised that the lock didn’t resemble yours at all. Stepping back, you peered at the door. 307. Not 306- which was yours.

The floor design was insane and instead of the flats being lined up next to each other, they were all fronting one another in a haphazard fashion. Shaking your head, you took a step back and jammed the key into the lock of your own flat.

Jesus! You’re losing it, Y/N.

Shirking off the mild irritation, you cooked yourself a hot cup of instant noodles, put on your favourite TV show and slinked into your couch. Tonight’s episode was going to reveal who the murderer was and you had been dying for the suspense to finally end. 

Just when the protagonist was about to point a gun at the killer in the shadows…

Oh my God... you’re incredible… aahhhh… ahhhh… ahhh…

You completely abandoned the TV and jumped up from the sofa. The fire hazard might still be worth it, but the thin walls so weren’t.

On tiptoes, you made your way to the east side wall, putting your ear against it. The noise wasn’t coming from upstairs. That was the only sure thing. But it was impossible to pinpoint the direction. The moans were reverberating through the walls. So loudly that there was no escaping it. Not in the bedroom, the kitchen or the living room sofa. 

Of all of them, the east wall seemed like the culprit. 

Right there… yeah…

307. Whoever it was in that room needed to calm the FUCK down. You grabbed your blanket and dragged it to the end of the living room, fuming. What ticked you off was how much this was ticking you off.

It’s sleep you told yourself. The lack of sleep was the only thing making you mad. The sex noises couldn’t be it. Because there were other noises- a dog barked somewhere occasionally, one of the rooms had a very loud stereo and someone was too much into baking- the beater was ceaseless. No, it had to be the timing and your wrecked sleep schedule.

Just like the nights before, you covered your ears and started reciting the story of the manuscript you had been reading at work. Eventually, sleep overtook you again.

The next morning you woke up in a crappier mood. If that was even possible.

Breathing down on anything and everything, you locked the door on your way out for work. Turning into the corridor, you ran into a wall of solid flesh. 

In your groggy, sleep deprived state, the first thing you noticed was the way he smelled- leather and whiskey and something headier than that. It was divine. Next, you looked up into those eyes- stunning green, like sparkling water running over jade.

“Easy there, sweetheart!” The guy smirked. 

You straightened yourself and took a step back. In front of you stood the most handsome guy you had ever seen. He was tall, with dirty blond hair, almost brown, and those stunning eyes. 

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered, trying to collect your scattered thoughts. You had one of those dumb faces that gave away every damn thought crossing through your brain, so obviously you tried your best not to meet his gaze. Which was a shame really. That face demanded to be ogled at. Let alone the body that followed.

“No, no… I didn’t mind at all.” 

You saw him reach out to the door of 307.

“You’re the one who lives there?” You asked through gritted teeth. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Sure. You want a tour?”

Uhgg the best looking guy and he has to be such a douche!

Slipping past him, you stomped off towards the stairs. This too-good-looking-for-the-world asshat had been ruining your nights and in turn your life. 

You knew it was wrong to be mad at him without, at least, talking about the issue first. A polite conversation explaining your situation wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world now, would it? But how does one start a conversation pertaining to that? After all, he wasn’t exactly the one making the noise. What would you say?

So, hey would you mind pleasuring your girlfriend a little less? 

Or better. Ever heard of a ball gag?

Mere thought of it made you shudder.

The work day was spent trying to shove your neighbour's stupidly handsome face out of your mind. It didn’t help that your mother kept calling, repeatedly. You knew what she had to say. How you should have taken that bigger job at Royal’s publishing. How the writing career might never take off. How you really should get a boyfriend now, or you’ll be the only unmarried cousin in the family.

Usually you could entertain your mother with well-timed hmms and ahhs. Today wasn’t that day.

Bone-tired and absentminded, you jammed the key in the keyhole in the evening, only for it to get stuck again. You looked up at the door. 307.

Well, shit!

Putting both your hands into it, you yanked the key with all your might, just as the door opened. There he stood, with his crooked smirk, dimples digging in, wearing nothing but a thin cotton t-shirt and sweatpants that hung all too low on those hips.

“You don’t need to break into my house. I already offered a tour.” Of course, god gave him an irresistible voice. Cause at this point, why not?

“Sorry,” you muttered, looking anywhere but at him. “I keep getting the wrong door. This one’s mine.”

“Oh, so you’re the one in 306!” You could feel his smirk more than see it. “Looks like you’re having a good ol’ time in there.”

“Excuse me?”

The guy raised scratched the back of his neck, face apologetic. “You might… ya know… just keep the voice down in there?”

The audacity of this guy!

“Rich of you to ask anyone to keep it down!” You hissed. “Why don’t you tell your girlfriend to keep it low?” 

With that, you shut your door in his surprised face. The worst part was, after bumping into him in the morning, your mind was producing distinct images of him in the bed, doing things to a woman. You had tried your best not to let them make a home in your head. But like a stickly tenant, they refused to evacuate. No wonder it was hard to look him in those brilliant, brilliant green eyes. The guy was hot! There was no denying that. You weren’t even willing to accept to yourself just how much time you had put into imagining him naked.

If anything, the denial mixed with your pre-existing irritation and sleep deprivation had you ready tonight. 

So the moment the enamoured voice started begging, you hopped out of your chair. You had every intention of yelling yourself hoarse at the delectable resident next door, but the moment you stepped into the corridor, you came face to face with the very man. 

He was- thankfully, completely clothed- looking a bit harassed, himself.

aahhhh… ahhhh… ahhh… right there...

Your head whipped up to the suspected direction of the voice, and back at him. “Wait, you aren’t… it’s not...?”

His face mirrored your expression of surprise and then he burst out laughing. “Looks like we’ve both been played.”

“Not intentionally,” you said, peering at the adjacent doors, mostly to not look at him. “Where do you think it’s coming from?”

He shot a glance at the door opposite to his. “If it’s not you, my best guess is that guy over there. I mean, if you ask me, Nick over there doesn’t look the type to make a woman that happy… but what do I know?”

“You shouldn’t make assumptions about people,” you said, taking a tentative step towards the said door.

Mr. hot guy smartpants laughed. “Oh, trust me. He’s the douchiest douche you’ll ever meet. Guy like that? Definitely selfish in bed.”

You frowned at him.

“He asks women in the street to smile more,” hot guy explained.

“Uhhgg… yeah you’re right. It’s definitely not him.”

Hot guy pointed his fingers at the rest of the doors. “That one’s rented by three guys. I don’t think it’s them. Mrs. Hendrickson over there works night shifts. I have no clue who lives in there,” he pointed to the last door, directly in front of you.

Goodness you’re amazing...

“Yes, lady, we already know!” He called out.

You couldn’t help the giggle that burst through your lips.

His eyes softened. “Dean Winchester,” he said, offering his hand.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N,” you said, taking his. He had a firm grip. A very funny sensation gripped your stomach. Like a flutter. Nervousness? 

“It’s great to meet you, Y/N.” He smirked. “I sure wish the circumstances were better.”

You bit your lip. “Listen, I’m sorry for the comment about your girlfriend. I was just mad about, you know... “

“Don’t worry about it. My non-existent girlfriend is very cool. She took no offense.”

You snorted.

“I was dead serious about the house tour,” He winked. “I can promise great coffee.”

“Sure, sometime soon.”

He shot a look at the door with the unknown occupants again. “I hate to leave this here, but I think we should get whatever kind of shuteye we can while they’re quiet over there, huh?”

“Oh, yeah!” You hurried back to your flat. “Night, Dean.”

He gave you his crooked grin again, just a hint of mischief. “Night, Y/N.”

You knew it wasn’t him now, and he was right about making the most of the quiet and fucking off to sleep, and yet, each time you closed your eyes, your mind decided to replay your imaginations for you. With a start, you sat up in your bed, a thought occurring to you like a hit on the head- If you had been thinking about him that way? Had he been imagining you as well?

Blood rushed to your face at the very idea. Though a tiny part of you begged for the answer- would it be such a bad thing if he had?

*********************

A/N 2: So? So? SO??? What do you think?

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[thenovelartist]

Burned Beginnings, Chapter 4

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10. Tutoring

When Marinette entered the bakery to help Adrien complete the handfuls upon handfuls of special orders, he could tell she was on a mission. He really liked the strong set of her posture and determined glint in her eye whenever she got that way, which meant he’d have trouble ignoring that distraction and keeping on top of the schedule.

“So,” she began, turning her fiery look towards him. “I think I’ve made a decision.”

Adrien raised a brow. “What?”

“About the fashion world.”

“You have my attention.” After all, she’d been researching non-stop for over a month, now. He’d seen how much it was wearing on her. At the moment, she looked revitalized.

“I need you to be my own private tutor for a moment.”

Adrien couldn’t help but grin like a cat that got the cream. He sauntered up to her, striking his best pose. “Oh? Just what am I gonna be teaching you, milady? And is this really the place for it?”

Marinette’s expression fell flatter than a crepe. “Adrien.”

“Hint taken,” he said, straightening himself up. “What am I teaching you?”

“I want every story you have to tell,” she said. “You may not have been a designer, but you first hand witnessed your father’s fashion empire and were involved in several different sides of it. I want to know your own personal experience with everything. Good, bad, ugly, right, wrong; I want to know.”

His mouth set in a hard line. “I… I wouldn’t mind it,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But fair warning: I’m biased.”

“That’s what I want to know, too,” she said. “The fashion industry is extremely competitive. And from the data I’ve seen, there’s plenty of people who go in with high hopes, only to get chewed up and spit out. What are your dark secrets? What am I actually looking forward to if I go in?”

Adrien frowned. He had plenty of stories to tell, that wasn’t the issue. What was the problem was the likelihood they’d discourage her from pursuing fashion any further. And if she did end up wanting to go into fashion, he didn’t want to crush any hope she currently held.

But looking at her now, he realized he wouldn’t be able to tell her no. She had a determination in her eyes that was both sexy and frightening. That look warned that she was on the verge of a decision, and whatever she chose would be ultimate and final.

Part of him loved that fire in her, and part of him wished he had half the gumption she did.

“Okay,” he relented. “But before I do, can you promise me that you’re not basing everything off what I say? That it will only add to all the other research you’ve done.”

She nodded resolutely. “Promise.”

He sighed. “Well,” he said, giving her a sheepish smile. “Guess the question now is where do I even begin?”

 11. Truth or Dare

Marinette had come to her decision, and no one would sway her from it.

The tales Adrien had told her were mostly along the lines of what she expected, while there were others that more strongly leaned towards “that’s pretty good,” and still others that crossed into “that’s really bad” territory.

So, after that evening, the question she had faced herself with was not “could I handle this?” but rather “do I want to do this?” and “do all the potential benefits out way all the negative?”

But really, that brought her back to “what do I even want out of life?” because her answer changed everything…

Which make her realize that maybe she wasn’t so resolute in her decision after all.

She was almost nineteen. By now, most of her classmates had plans for the future they were all pursuing. She had thought she’d had plans, but when they all crumbled beneath her feet, she found herself lost, wondering around the Land of What-Do-I-Do-Now?

“Marinette!”

With a squeak, she practically leapt five feet into the air at the sudden voice right beside her. When she realized it was Adrien, she leaned against the bakery table with a heavy sigh. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“Someone was lost in thought.”

“Yeah! And the last thing you do when someone is lost in thought is purposefully surprise them by suddenly appearing right beside them. Jerk!” With a hint of a smile, she took some of the flour on the table and flicked it at him, knowing that if she did, he’d wipe that apologetic look of his face and loosen up a bit.

“Hey!” He turned away, but not quick enough. Flour dusted his perfect jawbone and perfect collar bone and perfectly fitted t-shirt. But it was the perfect smile that he wore that made the rest of the heaviness she felt on her shoulders disappear, even if only for a moment.

“Don’t do that again,” she warned, her voice not really holding any bite in it.

“No promises,” he said with a chuckle, dusting the flour off him. “That was a pretty cute squeak, princess.”

She just sighed. There was no getting him off the name by now so she’d just learned to roll with it. “I am not cute! I am fierce.”

“Yeah, like a little fluffy Papillion.”

She gasped, flicking even more flour at him. He laughed again.

“Is the bread in the oven yet, Marinette?” her father called out, bringing her back to reality.

“Almost!” she cried, quickly hurrying to score the tops of the loaves on the last pan before hurriedly sticking all the pans she’d made in the oven. “Done!”

“Thank you.” That was when her papa reappeared. “The fridge is clean now, so I’m off.”

“And I’m on,” Adrien said with a grin. “There’s only a couple special orders to handle tonight, right?”

“Yup. You’ll finish those in a flash.”

Adrien beamed. “Perfect. Got to love when my days are easy.”

Her papa chuckled. “Can’t disagree with you there. Being a baker is more fun when you don’t have too large an order burden.”

“Exactly,” Adrien agreed, already tying on his apron.

After Marinette saw her papa off, leaving just her and Adrien in the kitchen, he sidled up to her. “Let’s play a game.”

She quirked a brow at him. He looked way too mischievous at the moment. “You just got on shift, and you want to play a game?”

He was positively beaming. “Yup.”

Although she shook her head, she didn’t mind it. She enjoyed running shifts with Adrien or just hanging out with him in general. But she knew that if they started up, she was the one who’d have to keep them on track for the night. “Start in on something first. Unless you wanna be here all night.”

“Point taken.” Immediately, Adrien set to work weighing ingredients and then mixing up a dough.

“So,” he said as he worked. “Truth or dare.”

Marinette dropped the bench scraper in her hand, less out of shock and more out of annoyance, as she shot him an incredulous look. “Are you kidding me?”

“No.”

“You want to play truth or dare? Now?”

“Yup. Just for a couple rounds.”

Little red flags went up in Marinette’s mind as she studied the overly happy blond. “Why?”

“Because I want to. Now! Truth or dare?”

She should shut this down before they got into trouble, but she had the feeling he’d tease her for it if she did. And she was not going to give him the chance. “Which one do you want me to pick?”

Adrien turned to study her a moment. “Dare.”

“Truth, then,” she countered with a grin.

“Yes!” He pumped his fist in the air. “I was banking on that.”

This time, she almost did drop the bench scraper out of shock. “What?”

“I know you,” he twittered, grinning like the idiot he was. “I know you. You weren’t going to give me the satisfaction of picking what I wanted; you never do. So, I just played you like the cheap fiddle you are.”

Marinette tried to look offended. She really did. But it was hard when her cute, idiot coworker was doing a happy dance. That, and she rather enjoyed this banter they always had. “Excuse you, who are you calling a cheap fiddle?”

“You, princess.”

“Oh really? The kazoo is calling me a cheap fiddle.”

“Kazoo?”

“Kazoo.”

He pantomimed being stabbed through the heart, and while he tried to keep the smile off his face, she could tell he was struggling. “Ahh, the ice princess is so cold. The light is fading. Limbs. Growing. Cold.”

She failed suppressing a laugh, turning and hiding her growing grin behind her hand. He was such a dork.

Adrien seemed to pull himself together, laughing along with her as he went back to measuring more ingredients. “Okay, okay. Back to the topic at hand.”

Marinette calmed herself, but her smile refused to budge. “Okay, you were asking me truth.”

Adrien came to stand right across from her. He reached across the table, grabbing her hands and pulling them closer. Her smile was gone now, and so was Adrien’s, as their combined hands rested in the middle of the table. “Scale of one to ten, how much do you trust me?”

Her cheeks and neck and chest flushed red as she stared into his green eyes. “W… what brought that on?”

His grasp on her hands tightened. “I just want to know.”

That was a lie. Or, at least only a half truth. He had a different reason for asking that specific question. She knew it. She could tell. Eight months of working together, and she’d come to be able to read this man like a book.

When had they gotten so close?

She took a breath to clear her mind. She’d probe him later, or maybe their little game would give her the answer she was looking for in that regard. But for now, she quietly responded, “A solid 8.5.”

Adrien paused, taking in those words before slowly nodding. “8.5,” he murmured. “I’ll take it.”

With that, he pulled his hands away. Marinette felt the loss immediately, but there wasn’t anything she was willing to do to make them come back. Not yet, anyway.

And would her heart calm down already? The way it was racing made it hard to think.

“Truth or dare?” she asked, voice quiet.

“Truth,” he answered.

“How many secrets would you say you’re hiding from me right now?”

A loaded question, Marinette knew. But she just had a feeling, an inkling, that she knew the exact number. One for what he was hiding now, and one… if he had feelings for her.

It wasn’t the first time that thought had popped into her mind. She’d had her suspicions for a while now that his flirty banter wasn’t just out of good, playful fun. And maybe she was reading into it too much, but she felt like he’d been more… touchy with her lately. A fist pound here, a pat on the shoulder here, a playfully light punch to the arm in the heat of their teasing; things like that. And if not touching, then he seemed to like being close. And and and…

And was she wrong, or did when he ask her ‘truth’, he purposefully make it that intimate?

Do you like me, Adrien? Or am I jumping to a conclusion?

And to I like you in return? Or am I mistaking our friendship for something more?

Because I don’t want to hurt you. And I don’t want to get hurt by you.

But…

It might be too late for that.

“Like…” Adrien began after a moment’s pause. “Define secret.”

“Something that you do not, in the near future, intend to tell me or would be comfortable in telling me.”

Adrien pursed his lips. “How will you know I’m being honest about the number?”

“I trust you 8.5 out of ten, right?” she softly reminded. “A number that can go up or down at any time.”

That got Adrien to wince. “Yeah,” he murmured.

There was a long pause, one Marinette wasn’t sure he was going to break.

“How far is ‘near future’?” he finally asked.

“Does it matter?”

“Yeah, it does.”

She paused. “Then answer how many secrets are on the line here.”

“Only one.”

“Only one?”

“Something I am not comfortable telling you or don’t intend to tell you in the near future, per your words, yes. Only one.”

Her brows knit together. Only one? Which meant… either the thing he was hiding now or the feelings. It was one or the other, but not both. “So…” she said, trying to hide her disappointment. “Are you saying that you intend to tell me this sometime in the future? But don’t know when in the future that will be?”

His brow knit together nervously, before he played it off with a warbly smile. “I’m pretty sure I answered my truth, already, princess.”

She frowned. Technically, he did, in an odd, roundabout way that somehow left her with more questions than answers. “Fine. How about we just drop this already?”

Part of her didn’t want to drop it. Part of her wanted to be able to pull another truth out of him. She wanted… needed to know which secret he was hiding. But she wasn’t sure her heart could handle it if it wasn’t the secret she wanted it to be.

“One more round,” he quickly begged.

Marinette quirked a brow but surrendered without fuss. “Fine. Dare. What are you gonna make me do now?”

He grinned. “I was hoping for that.”

“Why?”

He stopped the mixer, then came over to her and once again leaned in close. “I dare you… to come to New York with me.”

Marinette was frozen. She blinked her eyes several times, and her tongue felt glued to the roof of her mouth.

Eventually, she found the words to say. “I’m sorry, repeat that?”

 12. Seatmates

It had been a month since Adrien had gotten the pleasure of surprising Marinette with a trip to New York.

After Marinette had asked him for his stories of the fashion world, Adrien had been so worried that she’d walked away with the determination to surrender her former dreams, and that made him feel too guilty to handle. So, breaking the unspoken vote of confidence she’d placed in him, he’d talked to her parents.

He hadn’t divulged everything, just the bare essentials necessary to get them to understand. Mr. Dupain had seemed surprised, but the information didn’t seem to have caught Mrs. Cheng off guard. It made more sense when she admitted she’d been suspecting something was up for a while, and this had confirmed it.

So Adrien had told them what he wanted to do: give Marinette’s dreams one last encouraging push by taking her to fashion week. His original plan had been for it to be Paris’ fashion week, but he’d been keeping tabs on Chloe and her whereabouts as well as taking into account that Marinette had been barred from several Parisian schools. If she wanted school to be a reality, she wouldn’t be in Paris, meaning it might be beneficial to take her outside the country. It would give her the chance her to explore and stretch her wings in a way staying inside France would not allow.

With her parents’ blessings on the idea, Adrien had started planning. And then had come the fun part of surprising her with it.

The roller-coaster of emotions she’d gone on after his dare had been a joy to watch. Disbelief to doubt to shock to excitement. She’d been so expressive that Adrien had found himself falling even harder. And when she’d agreed to let him take her to New York—which took no small amount of convincing—he’d been over the moon.

However, there was one thing about that day he couldn’t forget. Mostly because it hung of his head. Marinette had only remembered by the end of her shift that she still had one last round of truth or dare.

“Dare,” he’d answered. It was only fair.

She’d seemed relieved almost at that. And with her words, he understood why. “I dare you to let me save my dare for another time.”

After recalling the way she’d tortured him by cashing in her last favor by making him clean out the deep, dark crannies of the freezer and storage room, he had been hesitant about this one. Even if she had repaid him for that torture with the best dinner he’d eaten in months, he still couldn’t forget the devious sparkles in her eyes as she cashed in that favor. It made him worried for just what kind of dare she would make him do.

Hopefully it wouldn’t be too bad. After all, he was taking her to New York. She wouldn’t be cruel, would she?

Quietly, he scoffed. No, this was Marinette. She could be downright devious if she wanted to and make him think he was okay with it.

A weight on his shoulder called him out of his reverie. They’d been watching a new anime he’d downloaded on his computer for the plane ride. When they started, Marinette had seemed intent on watching it, but at the moment, it seemed his seatmate was too tired to keep it up.

“Hey,” he whispered, gently shaking his shoulder.

She took an earbud out but didn’t look up. “Hmm?”

“Do you want to just watch this later and sleep now?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Okay.” He paused the anime, then shut his computer screen.

Marinette shifted just enough to take out her earbuds, but then she was back to leaning against his shoulder. “This okay?” she asked, her groggy voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s fine,” he assured even though his heart protested. It was a little too okay with him. “Get some sleep.”

With one last hum, Marinette fully settled against his side, and within a little while, she was out.

Adrien sighed, leaning his head against Marinette’s.

“Truth or dare?” she asked, voice quiet.

“Truth,” he answered, going back to the mixer to turn it off.

“How many secrets would you say you’re hiding from me right now?”

He let his eyes drift closed at the memory. If only he had the courage to go for it. But this was the girl he considered to be his closest friend, and he wasn’t ready to take that plunge quite yet.

I really like you.

If she didn’t feel the same, he was sure they could go back to almost normal in time, but there would always be that rift.

A small, bitter smile suddenly crossed his lips. Here he was, trying to encourage her to follow her dreams or at least press forward to take a chance, and he was too much a coward to take his own advice.

What a hypocrite.

[tsukkisbean]

how they cheer your up | headcanons

genre: fluff

characters: iwaizumi hajime, miya osamu, terushima yūji, kunimi akira x gn!reader

warnings: none!

a/n: hello if you’re seeing this, that means my scheduled post worked, yay!! hopefully this shows up in the tags otherwise i’ll have to reupload it at a later time (sorry in advance if that’s the case hehe). i’m also trying my hand at writing for other characters so hopefully this does their characters justice??

anyways, i hope everyone is doing well and staying healthy and happy! if you requested something from me, sorry i haven’t gotten to it even though i said i would. i’ll try my best to complete them when i get the chance, thank you for being patient with me 💖 all boys after iwaizumi are under the cut!

iwaizumi hajime

best boy iwaizumi would without a doubt use exercise as a way to cheer you up

but don’t get me wrong, he’s not going to force you to run a marathon or anything like that

i imagine him taking you to one of those entertainment/game parks (not really sure what they’re called ahh) where you guys just hang out all day

when you get there, he’ll immediately take you to the batting cage so you can just channel out all your anger into your swings

once your blood is pumping from the adrenaline he’ll take you to the trampoline area where you guys just bounce around and do flips into the foam pit to burn off all your extra energy

you’ll just be chilling, jumping up and down on one of the trampolines, your back turned to iwaizumi when he straight up scoops you up and tosses you in

he’s cackling and dying of laughter and when he finally offers to help you out you grab his hand and pull him in

when he doesn’t resurface you get nervous, where could he be?

from the corner of your eye you see the foam rumbling slightly but you react too slowly and iwaizumi pops out and tackles you in the biggest hug, peppering kisses all over your face and people are staring as you scream your head off trying to pry him off of you

for dinner, you guys indulge in all the greasy food the park has to offer, and by the end you’re stuffed

to help with digestion you suggest a game of mini golf which iwaizumi gladly agrees to

for someone who played volleyball his aim is absolutely horrifying

he argues that the windmill is IMPOSSIBLE to get a good score on and no one can ever get a hole in one

luck must have been on your side because you get a hole in one right after (and so does the small child behind you guys, but you choose not to tell him that)

you end up destroying him (he lowkey hints that he let you win but we know that’s not the case)

when the park closes, instead of taking you straight home, he’ll take you to a nearby park and the two of you just stroll around enjoying the chill of the night and the stars in the sky

miya osamu

he pulls you onto the couch next to him and the two of you look through baking videos on youtube and osamu being osamu cannot decide because he wants to make them all

eventually you guys settle on a cake recipe by cooking tree (a/n: 10/10 would recommend watching them, their videos are super soothing and aesthetic esp if you enjoy cooking asmr!!)

so at 9pm you guys set off to the grocery store to buy the ingredients you guys are missing 

the trip takes much longer than expected because osamu keeps putting in more and more snacks that you guys definitely don’t need

so instead of shopping osamu is trying to grab as many snacks as you can while you trail behind, trying to put them away  because your pantry is already way too full

by the time you get home it’s close to 12 and you’re tired but osamu insists that you guys start now

for the most part all goes well, you guys manage to get the batter to look smooth in the cake pan (definitely some playful flour throwing here and there)

the real problem is assembling the cake. at this point you’re wondering why you guys decided on a 3-layered cake that required cutting

teases you for cutting the first layer slanted and so you pass over the cutting to him but his slicing work is just as bad and you just have to bring up the fact that he owns a restaurant but apparently his knife skills suck

you thought cutting the cake would be a problem?? now you guys have to fill the layers and it’s a complete disaster; there’s whipped cream just everywhere and at this point you guys are half filling the cake half throwing it at each other

cake ends up being iced unevenly but that’s the least of your problems

you guys pour the decorative icing on top and instead of running over the sides only slightly, it drips messily down the cake and onto the counter and now you guys have a blob of a cake

you guys spend the rest of the night cleaning up and pass out on the couch and in the morning you guys enjoy a sweet breakfast together <3

terushima yūji

terushima is a free soul and so he believes expressing yourself through art is one of the best ways to feel better

when he sees that you’re down, he’ll immediately whip out all of his salon products and pull you into the bathroom

he takes you by surprise saying that he wants you to whatever you want to his hair - today his hair is your canvas

at first you’re reluctant, but he insists - as a hair stylist it’s all about experimentation with styles and colours and plus he can easily fix whatever you do considering that it is his job after all

so you guys scroll through pinterest together, trying to find some fun hair ideas that you’d be able to pull off on your own (with some instruction from teru of course)

you finally decide on a style and so together start on getting all the hair dye ready

he explains to you the different types of develops and how important they are in the hair colouring process - there are different volumes and will essentially affect how much your hair colour changes

after all the colours are mixed and ready to go, you gingerly grab a piece of hair, constantly checking your phone to make sure you’re doing it exactly like the photo

meanwhile terushima has the softest smile on his face, watching you through the mirror - he thinks you look absolutely adorable with the way your brows are furrowed and your tongue sticks on slightly as you focus

as you run the colour brush along his hair, he’s constantly encouraging you, telling you what a good job you’re doing and how he’s so excited to the end product

while the dye sits in his hair, you sit in his lap

once it’s time to wash out the hair dye, you bring him to the sink and carefully run your hands through his hair, trying your best to give him the best head massage he’s ever had!!!

after toning and a hair treatment, your masterpiece if finally done!! ofc being the boyfriend he is, he takes a million photos and posts them on social media to show how talented his significant other is - like not only is it your first time dying someone’s hair but you managed to pull off RAINBOW hair!! (a/n: think sehun from exo as a reference hehe) he literally will not shut up about you to his clients tomorrow

kunimi akira

kunimi has a rep for being lazy and just overall a really nonchalant kind of person but he’s sharp, so when you’re feeling down he immediately picks up on it even if he doesn’t confront you about it

however i don’t think he’d be as aggressive as the other three and do something huge rather he tries to make you feel better only in smaller ways and it definitely adds up

like in the morning he’ll make you coffee or tea or whatever you want - orange juice, a bakery bun? he’ll make an excuse saying he wanted something from the convenience store anyways and head down. when he comes back  with three bags of food and drinks he’ll insist that he just grabbed whatever he saw because he was “too lazy to decide” n b d

throughout the day he’ll be a lot more affectionate than usual, hugging you whenever he gets the chance, maybe even a kiss on your forehead

when you tell him you want to go out on your own for a bit  he doesn’t argue - whatever you need to do but when your back is turned he’ll slip you a handwritten note telling you to enjoy your alone time and that he l-word you and it’s even signed off with a teensy teensy heart that you almost don’t notice

when you get back, you’re greeted with the smell of your delicious food mixed with a burning smell and on the kitchen table you see takeout from your favourite restaurants and in the garbage is a black burnt mess - kunimi insists he doesn’t know how it got there even though its quite obvious

you bring the food to the living room and to your surprise there’s a blanket fort set up with pillows spread out all across the floor

when you try to question him, he just shrugs saying that it’s not that hard to throw a blanket over a couple of chairs, even a baby could do it

today he lets you choose the movie even though it’s technically his turn and when you choose a  comedy he doesn’t complain about the obnoxiously loud and hot headed lead character

when the movie is over, he quickly cleans up all the trash, making sure you don’t have time to move from your spot

when he comes back, he flops on top of you, holding you close

then he plays the spotify playlist that he made for you; it’s a whole mix of songs - slow, upbeat, instrumentals - anything he thought might help you feel even the tiniest bit better

and so you guys just lay there not speaking, enjoying each other’s presence until you fall asleep

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 16)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2694 Warnings: fluff

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 15 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

Six weeks. That’s how much notice Bucky gave you until the wedding. You said yes to being his date before you had actually confirmed anything with work. The wedding was on the first Saturday in June but you would need to take off of work that Friday as well.

Technically one day off from Stark Industries wouldn’t be so bad and as predicted you were given the day easily. Unfortunately, you would have to take two days off at Metro-General and you really hoped that would be alright.

You hadn’t taken many days off since you began; a day for when you had food poisoning, another on the day of Wanda’s museum exhibit, but the hospital was a busy place and Elena was notoriously strict. Plus the more days you took off meant the more hours you would have to make up, which meant the longer it would take to fulfill your final requirement before graduating.

Once again, Marya’s words come to mind. Life will not wait for you so you needed to live it in the moment. It’s only two days.

With renewed confidence you knocked on Elena’s door and asked for the days off.

“Vacation?” she wondered.

“It’s for a wedding actually.”

Her dark eyes lit up at your answer. “Oh very nice. Where is it?”

“I’m not sure exactly. Somewhere in Long Island,” you chuckled, explaining that you were asked by a close friend to be his date.

After all these months of working together you realized this was the most personal conversation you’ve ever had with Elena. You had always tried to respect the boundaries of her as your boss but it was surprising as she seemed to open up first, letting down the guard she had carefully built up to protect herself while working in this field. Her approach carried over with her co-workers up until now.

“Mack was a close friend of mine once...” she said, turning the picture frame on her desk around towards you.

The photo showed her in the arms of a medium-brown skinned man with a dark beard and shaved head. Her whole face was smiling as she stared into his eyes and he was looking back at her like she was the only thing that gave meaning to life. Judging by their clothes you realized this was a wedding photo.

“You’re married? Since when?” You may have blurted that out a little bit louder than you expected but it was a bit of a shock considering she doesn’t wear a ring.

“Since I asked him,” she laughed. “Two years now, but we’ve been together for six and friends for a lot longer than that.”

Ahh now you understand what she was implying. “It’s not like that with me and Bucky. Well…” You bit your lip with uncertainty. “I don’t know. We’re friends and we kissed once but he’s dating other people and–”

“Yet he asked you to be his date.” She smirked, giving you a knowing stare.

Elena had given you the days off but part of you wished she didn’t. On the surface, Bucky was just a friend asking another friend for a favor but the more you thought about your history the more conflicted you felt.

From the moment he’s come into your life you’ve felt something towards Bucky. Sure his looks were undeniable but there was so much more about him. The passion he had for music matched what you felt for social work, and you connected, both of you realizing that each field plays an important role in helping people.

The more your friendship grew it felt like you were always meant to be in each other’s lives and you couldn’t imagine life without Bucky since he had become such a huge part of it. But you weren’t anything more than friends. That’s all.

The warm sun shines directly into your eyes as you exit the subway, trying your best to hear Peggy over the increased amount of people on the street. New York was always crowded but warm weather was a magnet that seemed to pull everyone out of their homes, drawing them outdoors to enjoy the beautiful day.

With Wanda on your left the three of you talk plans for Memorial Day weekend; it’s two weeks away and you’re trying to organize something for everyone to do together.

“I’m not sure if Sam has off or not yet but I do have some news,” Wanda said enticingly, biting her lip to contain her excitement. So many thoughts ran through your head as you waited for her to drop the details. “Sam and I are gonna move in together!”

“Oh Wanda, that’s brilliant!” Peggy said, her red painted lips stretching across her face in a beaming smile.

“I’m so happy for you two! When are you moving? And where?” you asked.

“His apartment is bigger so I’m moving there, hopefully by the end of the month but we’ll see. It’s hard with his schedule sometimes but I definitely want to be out as soon as possible.”

You offered assistance to help her pack and Peggy suggested making it a night with girls, with wine as a little motivation. “Yes, perfect!” Wanda agreed.

If only finding a dress for the wedding was as easy as helping Wanda move. You had already made a few trips to the department stores, trying on the perfect dress that fit like a dream and made you look incredible. Unfortunately, it cost more than your rent so it went back on the rack.

Your disappointing trip was made a little better by the promise of your friends to help you which is what you were doing now. One more block to go and you would be at the boutique you’ve never heard of before where Natasha was meeting you.

Opening the doors made you a little concerned. The place looked like it was from another planet. The glossy black ceiling stood in contrast to the bright white walls that were made up of three dimensional geometric tiles.

Silver accented the space from the large framed mirrors that leaned against the walls to the velvet pewter asymmetrically curved couch outside the dressing room. The clothes themselves looked normal at least, dresses of all kinds displayed on racks within silver frames, making them look like they were encased in glass.

Peggy and Wanda spread out to look for dresses, trying to find ones that resembled the overpriced gown you had only taken a selfie of to remember it by. Immediately you were drawn to a rack of flowy pastel colored ones, draping a few different styles over your arm.

In the middle of your search you heard Natasha call your name, and turning around to greet her you didn’t expect to see an unfamiliar face. She stood next to a man that towered over her small frame. A shock of ice blonde hair and matching bleached eyebrows caught your attention first before you moved on to his outfit, a red vest, leather pants and fur coat that seemed to only have one sleeve.

“Y/N, this is Taneleer Tivan, owner of The Tivan Collection,” she whispered the last line in a way as if you were meant to know who he was.

“Oh, it’s nice to meet you,” you said, though his facial expression didn’t change.

Though his eyes were surrounded by a smudge of dark liner you were able to see clearly the way he looked down in disgust at the dresses you held.

“Carina!” he shouted, and a moment later a girl came running forward. She wore a white vinyl dress that looked more like something you expected the store to sell, although her outfit is much more subdued than her boss’s.

She waited in silence with her hands clasped in front of her, in what seemed like a routine she was quite familiar with. “These are all wrong,” Taneleer said to you and suddenly the dresses were being taken out of your hands by his assistant. “I have much better in my collection.”

To your shock Carina was beside you again, ushering you towards a different section of racks that had more appropriate gowns despite neither her or her boss knowing what event you were shopping for. Thinking back, the pastels might have been a bit too casual anyway.

As you perused the new section you found an assortment of beautiful dresses, some absolutely stunning ones that had you worrying about the price. Natasha can certainly afford a lot more than you but glancing down at the tag you were surprised to see how reasonable things were. You took out a few jewel toned ones to try on that caught your eye.

“Y/N, what do you think of these?”

Peggy’s soft voice made you turn around. The first dress she held up was a satin one shoulder gown in black.

“Oh I like the design,” you said, pointing to the ruffles falling from the shoulder.

The next one she held up was a shimmering emerald dress whose classic mermaid style made you feel like you should be going to the Oscars instead of a wedding.

“Peggy, that’s too formal!” Wanda chimed in, huffing as she came over with more than a half dozen sparkly dresses.

She made room on the nearest rack to hang them, excitedly showing each one off to you. The first was a gorgeous sequined dress, rose gold sparkling in the light. It was undeniably beautiful but you had reservations. You were a guest at someone’s wedding and didn’t want to draw too much attention.

“This one is similar but you’ll see the difference,” she added, holding up another rose gold sequined dress, this one with a plunging V-neckline and a low open back.

“Wanda, that’s…” You stopped yourself from saying anything, grimacing uncomfortably at the dress that was so wrong.

“That looks like a slutty prom dress,” Natasha laughed, saying the thoughts you didn’t say aloud.

Wanda scrunched her face at Natasha before continuing with the next set of dresses. They were less eye catching as the others but still in the sparkly realm. You set aside a shimmering off the shoulder dress in turquoise that looked more like the ocean glittering in sunshine. The neckline was still a bit low but the back was more appropriately cut.

Natasha handed you one dress, a stunning red gown of flowing chiffon with a beautifully embellished bodice of lace and beading. The high neck of the dress complimented the tasteful open back design.

“Okay I’m getting overwhelmed. I have to start trying things on.”

With dresses in tow you made your way inside the fitting room and closed the curtain. Natasha sat across from Peggy and Wanda, checking work emails from her phone despite it being Sunday.

“Nat, did you get your wedding dress from here?” Wanda curiously wondered as her eyes roamed the store.

Her lips pursed as she took a deep breath. “I haven’t found a dress yet. I think we might have to push off the wedding again.”

“What was that?” you said, pushing open the curtains.

Peggy’s face lit up with a smile as you stepped out in a purple dress with lace detailing on the bodice. “You look beautiful!”

Your head turned towards the larger mirrors for a second to admire how you looked in the dress before you remembered the muffled conversation you heard through the curtain.

“Wait, Tash, did you say you’re pushing off the wedding again?”

She huffed loudly, leaning over and covering the frustration on her face with her hands. When she finally lifted her head you saw the desperation in her eyes. “I’m ready to say ‘fuck it’ and go to the courthouse.”

With Natasha’s ever increasing workload you’re quite surprised she hasn’t done this already. It doesn’t seem like she and Clint have made any progress since you’ve known them.

“Forget me,” she said, waving her hand as if to push the burdensome thoughts away. “That dress is pretty but there’s no wow factor.”

You looked in the mirror, realizing she was right. The next dress you put on was the red one Natasha picked out and that one definitely wowed but not in a good way. The bodice of the dress had an uneven cut that exposed part of your sides making you feel uncomfortable.

The one shoulder dress Peggy picked out was too tight but even if there was another size you didn’t like the satin. Wanda’s sparkly dress was a maybe but you weren’t completely sold on it yet. After changing in and out of a few more dresses you started to sweat and all you wanted to do was leave.

While hanging the dress you just stepped out of back up you saw there was one more left and your eyes lit up. You don’t remember grabbing this dress but it was meant to be from the moment you slipped it on.

It was a beautiful navy blue gown, with fluttering ruffles down the modest V-neck that also mirrored the back. Compared to some of the others this was a much simpler dress but there was something about it that felt right. It fit like a dream, flattering every part of you while still allowing for movement. Weddings mean dancing and the thought of dancing with Bucky made goosebumps prickle all over your skin.

As you opened the curtain you saw everyone’s jaws drop, their eyes lighting up as you stood in front of them.

“This! This is it!”

“You really think?” you asked, looking over your shoulder to see how it looks from behind.

Peggy nodded her head, “Definitely. It’s perfect.”

“Bucky’s going to love it,” Natasha added.

You rolled your eyes, missing the knowing look the three of them shared. “Guys, this isn’t for Bucky. I want to look good for myself.”

“And you do,” Wanda said, “But he’ll also appreciate how good your ass looks in that, damn!”

Rolling your eyes as they burst out laughing, you admired yourself in the dress a little longer knowing this is the one. You went back into the dressing room with Bucky on your mind. Sure, he might stare at you all night in this dress but the truth is it doesn’t mean much more than that.

Bucky was actively dating and the only reason you’re going with him to the wedding is so he doesn’t spend a weekend with someone he really doesn’t know. Panic washes over you as you worry about the near future. What if he meets someone he really gets along with before the wedding and he resents the fact that he asked you to go. What if he uninvites you? What if–

“Hey I found a really cute clutch to go with the dress,” Wanda said through the curtain.

You finished getting dressed, grabbing the dresses you didn’t want first. Opening the curtain you found Carina waiting beside Wanda, ready to take the dresses from you. You thanked her and took the dress you were buying, holding it up next to the clutch Wanda found. It was glittering gold with a metal trim on the opening.

“Oooh I love it.”

Carina was waiting silently at the register in anticipation of you bringing everything up to pay. As you took care of that Natasha said goodbye to Taneleer, kissing him on both cheeks. You thanked him as well before leaving and his mouth curved into the slightest smile.

Late lunch with the girls went by faster than you expected and you were happy to finally be home, hanging up the dress in your closet. You knew you had shoes that would pair well with it somewhere in your closet, a search meant for another day.

Before bed you decided to text Bucky, even though part of you was hesitant about it. You typed away quickly, sending the text and turning off your phone before he could respond. From the other side of the wall Bucky smiled when he saw a notification with your name.

You: Hope your suit game is good because I just bought my dress and it’s 🔥🔥

He couldn’t wait.

PART 17

[secretsofthedarkestkind-arch]

Elena starter for @storieswrittcn​ (this may or may not have gotten away from me, Remember you said you like novella. I also took part of the ramble part one but altered it also)

We are outsiders Living inside a broken world We are outsiders And I know sometimes it can hurt But it gets better yeah we'll make it through We'll stay golden when we're black and blue We are outsiders But we're not hiding anymore This is who we really are

It had been fifteen years since she’d seen either of her brothers face to face. Fifteen years since Lee had spoken to the eldest. Fifteen years since she had thought of Mystic Falls, thought of all the ghosts that lurked within the town's shadows. Lee Salvatore had made it a habit to push anything regarding her brothers, that town, or their past to the deepest recesses of her mind. She had built life after life without them, embracing the warped gift of eternity. She hadn’t truly looked back after she’d transitioned. Finally able to become who she really was without the suffocating opinions of the church, her community, or her family.

It wasn’t an easy journey. Slow in it’s progression. Lee’s aunt had always told her she was a soul gifted before it’s proper time; her sexuality, the way she was born, her passion and skill when it came to art, her desire to see the world. None of it fit in the 1800’s. But as times changed pieces of Lee started to belong. Each change brought new opportunities, allowing Lee to start to put herself together. 

She was still an outsider, still judged--but what else would you expect living in a broken world? What didn’t fit into the neat little boxes of people’s minds, what didn’t fit the societal norm, was still given so much hate. The only difference was now there were those who fought for equality, unafraid to use their voices to promote change. Those people gave Lee hope, gave her strength. Finding those people throughout the last 145 years had shaped her.

Lee Salvatore was still an outsider, but she was also so much more. She was an artist, one with more alias’ than she could count on both hands. She was a college graduate, several degrees tucked away in a safe. She was a traveler, passports filled with stamps and a mind filled with memories she had never imagined to have. But most of all, Lee was finally able to look in the mirror and accept the person she saw; the youngest Salvatore was who she truly was. She held no more self hate. No more whispers of ghosts past haunted her. She was an outsider, but she wasn’t hiding who she really was anymore.

While Lee had taken the road of self discovery, her brothers’ hadn’t. They’d been living in a siblings quarrel, at least Damon was. Stefan suffered at every turn at their brothers hand whenever they fell into each other's orbit or Damon specifically sought him out. Lee was drugged into it whenever Damon crossed too many lines, risking their exposure to the world. 

Stefan had called her no more than seven hours ago asking for her help. There was a trail of bodies leading straight to town, ‘animal attacks’ that couldn’t be explained were catching the eye of news outlets. She hadn’t even known Stefan was back in Mystic Falls. When Lee asked him why he couldn’t just leave, he explained there was something holding him in Mystic Falls that didn’t allow him to--something that could finally give him a sense of belonging--and refused to believe the attacks were Damon. All he wanted was for Lee to be there with him, help keep the spotlight off their kind. The vampire might loathe her brothers, wanting nothing more for them to be miserable, but she wasn’t going to allow Damon to out them. 

Which is why Lee was driving down the main strip on her motorcycle. The town was busy; teens scattered across the storefronts trying to enjoy their last hours of summer vacation. She came to a stop at one of the only stoplights in town, rolling her shoulders dreading whatever was to come when she reached the boarding house. The youngest Salvatore felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand, a shiver going down her spine, every nerve ending coming to life in a way she hadn’t experienced in years. Lee let her head turn to the right, following the pull of whatever was happening.

‘What…” The lithe form of a brunette teen who was walking beside another girl was at the center of her focus. “Turn around.” Lee knew the brunette couldn’t hear her words. Her plea was answered as she turned, eyes almost searching. Those eyes, that’s what did it. “Who are you?” A horn from behind her snapped Lee out of her trance, for a nanosecond the two locked eyes. The vampire’s eyes hidden behind her aviators. The next Lee was pulling off, possibly faster than she should have been. Now she had the true answer of why Stefan refused to leave. 

----

Lee placed a few notebooks, her sketchbook, and a few pens into her satchel--the one she’d had since she was a teen; a gift from her aunt she’d never been able to part with. She glanced up at the ceiling hearing Stefan’s footsteps on the roof. A sigh left her lips, why had she agreed to this? She was roughly 160 years old and able to enroll herself in a Small Town America High School. It was ridiculous; a complete stalker move. There had to be other ways for Stefan to get to know this girl, if that’s even what he was truly hoping to do. For how Stef had explained the situation, Lee could tell he was only doing this because of Katherine.

Subconsciously her thumb started to play with the band of her daylight ring. She was thankful for the chance of life Katherine Pierce had given her but there was so much Lee wished was different. Shaking her head to break out of her thoughts she moved toward her closet to get dressed. Lee scanned through her options, To be me or be who society thinks I should be? It was a debate she hadn’t had in a long time. To make this work she couldn’t disturb the waters between her and her brothers too much. A short laugh left her lips, that was a joke. The three couldn’t be in the same room without starting something. As it was right now, it was just two of them. With that thought in mind Lee grabbed an outfit that would be her. 

Guys white wash skinny jeans that weren’t too tight to show her tuck, a grey and white hooded baseball tee that had a pocket on the left chest, her grey vans, and her black leather jacket she’s had since the 90’s. She finished the look with a black watch. One more look in the mirror and she was pocketing her phone with one hand and slipped her satchel over her shoulder with the other.

She knew Stefan would already be off. His stalker-like tendencies being on overdrive since the ‘animal attack’ last night after Lee had arrived. She ignored Zack who was in his office and headed to the garage, she wasn’t going to run to the school. There wasn’t anything wrong with arriving in style.

-------

Stefan met her in the parking lot. Lee took her helmet off and ran her fingers through her hair, glancing at her brother, her own sunglasses covering her eyes. “Why do you always insist on dressing like that?” He asked, judgement clear in his voice. 

“This is me Stefan. You know that. Let it go. You asked for my help so take me as I am or I get on this bike and leave.” She told him. Lee wasn’t going to put up with his judgement. The world had given her enough of that. Plus her brother had already had his fair share of giving her judgement when they were younger. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” Lee stated, “This is definitely traveling into creeper status.” Stefan didn’t answer, just turned to walk through the crowd of students covering the lawn reconnecting after a summer away. She moved into step beside him, she knew they stood out; leather jackets, both well built and confident in their strides, the aurora of not giving a fuck rolling off them both. 

They finally found their way to the admissions office, standing shoulder to shoulder. Stefan handed over the file that was supposed to hold all they needed but Lee knew was missing more than a few things. She wondered which of the two would compel the woman. Stefan could but where all he drank was Bambi and Co blood who knew how long it would last. Lee sighs, she’s ready to make the move when something behind them stops her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, her nerves firing up again, and she felt that pull to turn around. She also could feel a warm buzz in the air, a witch.

“Hold up. Who’s this?” The first female says, the witch.

The secretary’s voice brings her back to what’s in front of her, saying exactly what she knew was coming. “Your records are incomplete. You’re both missing immunization records and we do insist on transcripts.” Lee glances at Stefan out of the corner of her eye. The last transcripts she had were college one's back in the 1980’s. She hadn’t done high school since the late 70’s and that was only to get into Yale. Their art programs the top in the country. 

Thoughts of the past make her miss her chance, Stefan is taking his sunglasses off, “Please look again,” Lee adjusts her satchel hoping Stefan can do this right. “I’m sure everything you need for both of us is there.” Lee chews the inside of her lower lip, her free hand moving to remove her sunglasses just in case. 

The secretary looks back down, “Well you’re right.” Lee tucks her sunglasses into the collar of her shirt as the woman looks back up at her brother. “So it is.” Stefan-1, Humanity-0.

“Thank you,” Stefan, ever the polite one, says. As they turn to go, Lee glances over at her brother’s schedule. Seems they have all but one class together--Lee has art and Stefan a creative writing course. That works.

“You’re welcome,’ The secretary says, her eyes landing on the two teens in the hall. “Ahh! Miss Bennett, Miss Gilbert I’m glad you’re here. Do you think you could show our two newest students around?” She stands up from behind her desk to walk around to the siblings. “This is Lee and Stefan Salvatore. I think they both have a few classes with you both.” Lee takes in who she now know as a Bennett witch, why the magic felt warm. She gives the teen a charming smile before the pull is to much, her head being forced to turn to the brunette beside her. The vampire takes her in, all she can see is someone new. Lee doesn’t see Katherine when she looks at her. “Hi,” The charming smile turning into a much softer one. “I’m Lee.” She offers her hand to the girl.

[thedeathdeelers]

Trevor doesn’t remember when he first starts thinking of his bandmates again. His dead bandmates, that is, and just thinking the word dead makes him want to curl into the fetal position all over again like when he was seventeen. He thinks he starts remembering them when a decade has passed and Carrie is born. He was twenty-seven and there was this little baby with big eyes and small pink fingernails in his arms, when he thinks ‘She’ll never get to meet her uncles.’ He doesn’t cry then, but it’s almost as if his baby girl can feel his sadness because she starts screaming in his arms and it's enough of a distraction that he rocks her to sleep without thinking of the boys again that day.

He keeps them locked away in the back of his mind for the better part of five years until kindergarten rolls around and little Carrie with her curly pigtails and glittery Hello Kitty backpack comes home excitedly talking about her new best friends.

“Daddy, they are so cool! Flynn has dinosaur stickers and she gave me one. See!” She points to the top of her right hand where there’s a green pterodactyl cartoon sticker firmly slapped on. “And Julie has this huge purple crayon and she let me use it to write my name!”

At first, he’s beyond excited. His little girl made friends on her first day, which shouldn’t have been such a surprise now that he thinks about it since she has always been a little go-getter. Still, he ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ahh’s’ at the right moments as she talks his ear off about her new friends. By the end of the first week, Carrie has decided she wants to invite her best friends over for a small back to school party with just them and lots of pizza. She reminds Trevor three times Friday night not to forget that Flynn likes Hawaiian pizza and Julie likes orange Fanta best, and that he should become best friends with their parents because she’s decided they are all going to grow up and live together.

He laughs and a twinge of ache in his chest reminds him for a moment of a time when he was younger, not as young as Carrie maybe but just as naive. He remembers for a second flashes of running around playing tag at the park and scrapping the top of his thumb’s skin off. He still has the scar.

He can still remember Alex pulling a Batman sticker out of his pocket and taking him to the public restrooms to clean the cut. Alex the worrier, even at twelve, rambling about getting the cut infected and the proper way to tie his shoes and doesn’t he ever think about where he’s walking.

“Bobby! Oh my god, please tell me you don’t need stitches!” He can remember floppy blonde hair and blue eyes and gasping breaths. “Don’t tell me it doesn’t hurt, you idiot, your eyes are watering.”

“Maybe I’m just mesmerized by your beauty, dude,” he can hear himself replying to try and ease the rigid shoulders and deep frown on his friend’s face. “Really, man, I’m fine. Just a little blood.”

“Let’s just get you to a bathroom and wash it off, okay?” But Alex had been hiding his eye roll and curling lips and his shoulders no longer made him look like an awkwardly hanging scarecrow. It was enough to make him forget his thumb was throbbing and dripping blood.

The scrape is deep enough that it bleeds for a while into the sink, he can still picture the reddish water as it goes down the drain. He and Alex had met in the back of their sixth grade English class, Alex was shy and constantly biting his nails while he was just trying to catch a nap without getting in trouble. They’d bonded over a mutual silent agreement: Bobby held Alex’s hand under the desk when he had to read aloud in class and Alex would nudge him with the right answer when the teacher would call him in the middle of a power nap.

“Gatsby is gay,” he can remember Alex whispering to him when Miss Augustine had called him one time in class. He remembers repeating it without a second thought and realizing only seconds later what the fuck he had just said. He remembers wanting to turn to Alex because he knows there’s something important in the interpretation for his friend. He knows it by how Alex sometimes stares at that soccer player, Gabriel, who sits two rows in front of them. He knows by how Alex turns red when the guy notices him staring and the anxious way he strums a beat with his fingers. He wishes he could turn to him and say he accepts him no matter who he loves without saying it because he knows Alex isn’t ready for that discussion yet. But they’re in class so instead he turns to his best friend and gives him an overly exasperated look, hoping it conveys how he has no idea how he’s going to dig himself out of this one but Miss Augustine had smiled and just went about her lesson.

They never talk about it but a few days later, when he plops his copy of the book onto Alex’s desk before class he smiled and says, “You were right. Daisy was totally a beard. Nick and Gatsby were totally in love.” And reading shitty Fitzgerald - who stole more than half of the amazing work written and attributed to him from his wife Zelda, and as a feminist Bobby knows that’s just some misogynistic bullshit he cannot tolerate even for a school grade - is all worth it. Because Alex looks at him with a look of pure joy that makes him feel like he just scored an extra carton of strawberry milk at lunch (and that’s immense happiness because everyone loves that’s pink milk.)

He’s thinking about the park with a bloody thumb when he hears the doorbell and goes to answer it. And suddenly all the excitement of meeting his daughter’s new friends leaves his body as a chill kisses his spine. Nothing prepares him for seeing the girl from the Orpheum staring at him with a taller, blue-eyed man who must be her husband. His eyes are wide and his mouth is hanging open, What are you doing here? He wants to ask. Are you a ghost? But before he can, he feels Carrie wiggle her way past him and leap into two pairs of arms. He can just make out black, thick boxer braids, deep brown skin, and a bright mint feather boa above Carrie’s head and he knows he’s just met Flynn. The other arm wrapped around his daughter is attached to a girl slightly smaller than both of them, a huge mass of curls making her appear their height with light brown skin and a wrist covered in macaroni jewelry. And that must be Julie, which means, he looks up to see the parents in front of him - the girl from the Orpheum is her mother and he’s never going to be able to forget that night again.

“Flynn’s parents asked us to take her because they were running late for a dinner reservation they had scheduled months in advance. I hope you don’t mind just us,” the man says with a friendly smile as he reaches his hand out. “I’m Ray Molina and this is my wife, Rose.”

Rose, Trevor thinks as he briefly thinks back on that fateful night. Size beautiful, he can practically see Reggie handing her their band’s t-shirt. He can almost feel Luke leaning his arm against his shoulder and telling her that he’d had a burger for lunch. He didn’t even have to look to know Alex was rolling his eyes at how bad his flirting game was. It was like losing them all over again, only he couldn’t; this was his daughter’s day and he couldn’t wallow in pity. He has to host, so he reaches his trembling hand out and offers the best smile he could offer.

“Hi Ray,” he turns to his wife. “Rose,” he nods and watches as her polite smile fades into a softer one, a genuine one, “I’m Trevor.”

She doesn’t correct him on his name. She doesn’t even look to be affected to be honest, until Trevor leads them inside and she sees some of his awards on the walls. Ray is busy helping to serve the pizza and soda for the girls and it leaves him alone with Rose. She doesn’t mention the award for ‘Now or Never’ new hit single on the Billboard 100 or its being #1 on VH1. Rose doesn’t have to, all she has to do is look at him and Trevor feels himself turning back into the scared kid who showed up at the hospital screaming about his friends. Screaming to the nurses who told him he wasn’t looking for a hospital room, he was looking for the ID numbers of bodies at the morgue. He gives her a slight head shake, as if to plead with her not to bring it up. She nods, but he feels his guilt grow heavier as she leans up to gently smear a line across his name TREVOR WILSON next to the title for up-and-coming artist.

It’s Carrie with her signature giggle and yell that makes them head for the kitchen. “Daddy, can you come sit down! Before we eat we have a surprise!”

They walk in to find Ray sitting amusedly at the dinner table. He beckons them to sit down with him and Trevor can’t help but laugh at the scene in front of him. The girls have obviously gotten into his stage makeup and Carrie, Julie, and Flynn are wearing matching bright red lipstick and glitter on their cheeks. Flynn is sashaying with her boa as Julie holds Carrie’s pink one, and Carrie has her hand on her hip as she strikes a pose before snapping her fingers and triggering the sound system. ‘Barbie Girl’ by Aqua starts blaring in through the speakers and the three adults share a look. Should they turn off the song? It is highly inappropriate. But to do that would mean having to explain why it’s inappropriate and do they really want to ruin a song that as far as their kids are concerned is about Barbie living in her Barbie world?

“Hey!” Carrie yelps and their heads all snap back to the girls pouting at them, “We are trying to give you a concert! Don’t make us waste all of Flynn’s cool moves!”

“Okay okay,” he shakes his head, “Don’t you have more cool moves to show us, Care?”

“No,” his daughter gives him a dead serious face, “we have limited choreography.” She says it with such a puff of dismay and sass that Trevor can’t help but let out the loudest laugh he has in a while. There’s no way Carrie even knows what she’s saying but she must have heard it when he was on the phone with his agent who was arranging his next music video.

The thought pops up before he can squash it, Alex would’ve loved her sass, he would’ve loved to dance with her. But it doesn’t hurt as much, to think of Alex smiling and dancing with glitter everywhere.

It’s not long until Rose and Ray are laughing along too and the three watch the girls spin, twirl, improvise lyrics, and throw their feather boas around long after the pizza has grown cold. - 🌙 (so this is the first bit and each bit shows how I decided to headcanon bobby met the boys in school and remembering them and leads you to rose confronting him and learning about the boys before her death ahhh ok let me know if it’s ok 🙈)

excuse me this is

really good????

more please 😌