#i went way out of my comfort zone and put together a speech i actually really liked

[zamalie]

im required to finish a speech class for my AA and i initially went oh. Just once huh. Yeah this is fine I can power through it! what could go wrong

[chifuyuzu]

leap of faith — sano manjiro x reader.

word count — 1.3k.

genre — fluff fluff fluff, i love sweet mikey.

contains — cursing, timeskip SPOILERS present, reader is gender neutral.

description — sano manjiro is in love with you, and he realizes how much he loves you at the ass crack of fuckin' dawn.

author's note — hey besties, this is my first published fic here, kinda short but mikey brain rot is heavy. i hope you enjoy this cute fic before i rip your hearts out with some angst in a few days :^) reblogs and likes are always appreciated! and please give me feedback in my inbox! hehe, enjoy.

“it’s late.”

you know. but you still wanted to hear the sound of his voice before bed.

“mm… i missed ya’, is that a crime?” your voice echos through the receiver, the sound of your duvet crinkling in the background as you shift in place. sano manjiro was a busy man. always has been, always will be. being the leader of a biker gang was never easy—let alone some “new age” criminal organization.

you didn’t understand why manjiro persisted to play this game of russian roulette with his life. but it was never your place to overstep, especially since this was his life. it was all he knew, all he understood. you’re not sure what he’s doing, or if he’s even allowed to talk on the phone at this hour, but you still wanted to hear him. just so you know he’s alive and well.

you hear him chuckle, the sound of his feet scurrying against whatever floor his sandals were clacking against. the background noise that accompanied him earlier has dissipated; you realized he probably went outside to hear you better.

“your crime is loving a fool like me way too much. don’t think you’re sane.” he’s right. you’re actually crazy for even pursuing him. there was a lot of push and shove in the beginning, both parties scared of being hurt and getting hurt. but you were always there, even when manjiro went through whatever darkness was eating at his soul.

“crazy for you.”

“corny.”

“you love me.”

a pause. eerie enough to send shivers down your spine. why wasn’t he responding? did something happen? did you smother him too much? is he regretting—

“marry me.”

… not what you were expecting. especially not over the phone.

“sano manjiro, did you just propose over the phone? what kind of shitty rom-com are we in?”

“is that a no?”

“... never said that.” you wanted to marry him. but you wanted him to put that lifestyle behind, for the sake of the family you might have in the future. kids, dogs, cats, etcetera. you wanted him to be in, one hundred percent. but you knew he was too deep into this world to run now—especially since he’s so well-known as the ‘invincible mikey.’ you still longed for a happy home with manjiro, and a normal life.

“maybe you’re right. it’s not my style to ask you this over the phone.”

“try again later. when you’re really ready.”

the gag is, he is ready.

manjiro hurries home, blond locks hidden underneath a thin, black hoodie. he’s shaking, like a pomeranian in the presence of fireworks. his hand meets the left side of his chest, back pressed up against the grey colored wall of your shared apartment as he slides down to sit on the floor. it was four in the morning, and manjiro was about to shit himself.

he gulps, eyes peering around for you, double checking that you were fast asleep before he makes a phone call. his fingers tapped the back of his iphone, impatiently waiting for the other caller to answer. though it was the crack of dawn, he still needed some moral support.

“mikey? fuck you callin’ for at this hour? haven’t heard from you in mo—”

“ken-chin. i’m proposing.”

a loud ‘flop’ rang through the receiver, accompanied by the bedsheets seemingly slipping underneath draken’s feet. it was a huge bomb to drop, especially when the duo has been separated for months on end. manjiro hears more shuffling, followed by a few curses. “you’re fucking lying. the one you’ve been one since—?”

“yeah. i’m crazy as hell. but i love them. head over heels. i’m a goddamn simp.”

“why the hell am i the first to know, man?”

“you’re m’best friend, even if i need to stay away from you. and, also… you’re not the first to know. i asked them already.”

“you WHAT? don’t fuckin’ tell me you did it some dumb way like over the pho— you did. you’re impulsive enough to do it like that, too.” regardless of how long it’s been, draken still knows and understands manjiro like nothing ever happened.

“yeah… not romantic. but i can’t see myself with anyone else. i trust no one else. but i… am…”

“scared? man, you’re the head of a criminal organization. ‘course you’re scared. you don’t want the love of your life… to get hurt…” his voice trails off and manjiro’s heart tenses even more. the memories of the past still felt fresh. all the people they lost in tokyo manji… could never be replaced. not in a million years.

but the living must live.

“i love y/n. never felt like this before. i’d quit everything. but i would have to make sure they’re safe and whatever future we have together is secure. i know i promised takemichi that i’d protect everyone and that future he worked so hard to save… but what about mine?”

manjiro really did sacrifice everything for his friends. being the type of person who carries everyone else’s burdens takes a toll on his mental. he felt selfish for wanting to leave it all behind. but maybe being selfish was beneficial once in a while.

“listen—”

“do you think i’m stupid?”

“mikey. you’re not stupid,” draken sighs, shuffling again in place. “you just want to love someone and be loved in return. nothin’ stupid about that. what is stupid though, is you proposing over the damn phone.”

he’s not wrong. it was a spur of the moment decision that could drastically change his life forever. but with you, he doesn’t care. as long as you’re his, forever.

“how do you think i should do it?”

“well. i guess, tell me some sappy shit. how do you feel about them, and whatnot.”

“i don’t think i could ever imagine me with anyone else. a lot of people have tried to grab my attention but i only have eyes for y/n. sometimes when shit gets real hard…” manjiro takes a deep sigh, fingers threading through his hair, tilting back the hood to let it fall onto his back. “i think of y/n and i remember that even in this shit world, someone is here for me. someone cares about me. they make me feel like i’m not alone anymore.

i have dreams ‘bout us, y’know? me and y/n… kids running around. a little mikey clone. pissin’ them off because we want little flags on our meals. going to the park and letting kids be kids. maybe i’ll teach ‘em at a dojo like gramps did for me and my siblings. maybe i’ll teach ‘em about bikes—with your help, of course.”

draken laughs, letting his friend continue his little speech as he gets comfortable in bed again. don’t think i’ve ever seen mikey like this, ever, draken muses.

“man, we can own a whole zoo if we wanted. chifuyu could hook us up, in secret, of course. still have to protect everyone,” manjiro is grinning from ear to ear, head resting against the wall. “i wanna grow old with them. honestly, i didn’t think i’d make it to my twenties. more so, i didn’t want to live past twenty-something. but now… things are different. wanna be old and gray. see grandkids terrorize our children. die together.”

the tension in manjiro’s chest has faded away, only left with warmth that only you could bring him. his free hand reaches into his pocket to fumble with a small box, snapping it open to reveal the engagement ring his grandfather handed down to him.

he wasn’t the marrying type. but for you, he was.

“that all? you sound good like that, man. make an exception and let us come to the wedding.”

manjiro wants that more than anything. his friends, you... all safe. all happy. but again, the fear creeps up. he doesn’t know what to do with himself if any of you get hurt.

“... how do i tell y/n that?”

“you already have.” your voice makes him jump, knocking the velvet box out of his fingers and onto the hardwood floor. his face pales, followed by a huge lump forming at his throat when he sees your figure emerge from your shared bedroom.

“i-uh… i thought you were a-asleep.” manjiro mumbles, earning a huge laugh from draken on the other side. he hears him say something along the lines of ‘my cue to leave. good luck. send me an invite.’

“i was waiting for you.” 

he’s sweating now, a small bead forming at the base of his neck. his phone is now at his side, the screen flashing from draken’s caller id to the lockscreen photo of you on your first date together, a few years back. your eyes zone into the box, though.

“i was going to do this… better. god, i fucked up, huh?”

you’re laughing now, rubbing your tired eyes before you join him near the wall, picking up the box. “what makes you think that, dummy?”

now he’s confused. you wanted him to ask when he was serious, but in his head, serious meant rose petals, candles, someone singing celine dion in the distance.

without a word, you slip the ring onto its appropriate finger, holding up to the small rays of sunlight that peaked through the window from the approaching sunrise. manjiro’s hands fly up to your face, holding his whole world in his hands. his eyes are shiny, on the brink of tears. you nudge your noses together, foreheads connecting tenderly. your hands hooked onto the hem of his hoodie, bringing his frame closer as you whisper a soft ‘yes.’

“yes?”

“yes, i’ll marry you.”

manjiro’s lips curl up into the silliest grin you’ve ever seen him sport, before he presses a soft kiss to your lips. now he’s kissing you quite desperately. as if he’s trying to make sure you’re real, that this isn’t a dream. you feel his words vibrate against your lips, “gonna make you so happy, i promise. i love you. i love you so, so much.”

“forevermore.���

“forever yours.”

[sevendeadlymorons]

Demon Boys Find Out MC has Depression

TW: Mentions of depression, worthlessness

———————————————————

Lucifer

Notices they’ve been acting differently

Hasn’t came down to eat in a while and has noticed they’ve just been staring at the floor or lying down staring at the ceiling a lot lately

Doesn’t want to bring it up immediately so leaves it and waits for them to bring it up with him

Decides to finally bring it up after he finds them silently crying in their room

Sits down on their bed and pulls them towards him into a hug where they continue to cry into his chest

Rubs their shoulder to comfort them and informs them everything is going to be ok

After they’ve calmed down, he asks them what’s been wrong lately

MC tells him they’ve got depression but it’s just a bad week for them and they’ll be ok soon

Desperately tries to convince him they’re fine but Lucifer knows they’re not

From then on, Lucifer does his best to make sure MC is at their happiest and if they’re having another off day, he’ll make sure to be right there by their side, comforting them and giving words of encouragement

Mammon

Noticed MC hasn’t been very talkative lately and is eating very little and often just stares off into space, ignoring everything around them

Foolish human, not taking care of themself

Marches straight into MCs room but accidentally walks in on them crying

Panic sets in and the little speech he’d prepared in his head had long disappeared

Rushes straight to their side and grips their shoulders, pulling them into a hug

Let’s MC cry onto their shoulder and gently rubs their back to calm them

Asks them what’s wrong before they even got a chance to calm themself down

Explains to him that they’re depressed and has just been feeling down lately

Mammon doesn’t understand what his human could be so upset about, so asks why

MC tries their best to explain how they feel and how worthless they feel on the daily and how they feel like they don’t belong here

He’s shocked to hear this from them as they’re normally very happy on the outside

Grabs MC into another tight hug and tells them everything will be ok and that he’d always be there to look out for them. After all, he’s their first.

Makes sure MC is always smiling after that day, and Mammon makes sure they know their worth by telling them every day from them on

Levi

Levi is no stranger to depression so spots the signs pretty early on

Doesn’t exactly have the confidence to ask them about it though, so instead, he invites MC to play with him or watch this new anime he found recently to try cheering them up

When MC knocked on his door, he answered it and was met with a visibly faked smile, that much was clear to see

MC was obviously not focused after Levi turned to them and they were looking at their fingers, twiddling them every so often

Levi finally decided it was time to bring it up and straight up asked MC if something was bothering them

MCs voice was completely monotone as they bleakly stated they were depressed and it just wasn’t a good week for them

Levi thought it over in his head what to say or do, and in the end, he scooted over to MC and wrapped his arms around them, gently rubbing their back as their body went limp in his grasp

He told them everything would be alright and he feels the same way sometimes

Reminds them he’s there and they’re never alone

Offers to put on a funny anime for them to watch together or let them borrow any manga he owns that may cheer them up

After that day, Levi spends a lot more time with MC, sometimes just coming in unannounced with arms full of chocolates or anime

Doesn’t like seeing MC sad and actually really doesn’t like being without them by their side

Will support eachother in their own ways

Satan

Satan’s no idiot, he knows somethings up

MC had stopped coming to dinner and they missed a few classes too and last week, when he’d invited them over to come read, he noticed they just stared at the words, and didn’t even flick a single page

Decided not to say anything though as he thought it really wasn’t his place to, but watched over them carefully

Eventually brought it up when he noticed MC had completely stopped coming to class now a days

He knocked on MCs door the next day to ask them about it, but when they didn’t answer, he decided to let himself in

When he saw MC lying on their bed staring at the ceiling he decided to come sit down on the bed next to them

MC slowly got up, eyes blotchy and red from obvious crying

Satan noticed this and held them tight, rubbing their back softly, giving them words of support

Places his hand on theirs and gently rubs it, asking them what’s been up lately

MC tells him that they have depression and this just happens sometimes

Satan of course knew how they felt, as he read it in a book once

Strokes their hair and pulls them towards him, telling them he’s there for them, always, and if they needed to talk, he advises them come to him

Is very visibly protective over MC from then on

Spends more time with them, making sure they’re smiling and enjoying themself

Always reminds them how much they mean to him

Asmo

Knew straight away something was going on

Noticed very often their hair is never brushed and they seem to be losing a bit of weight too

That really won’t do

Walks to MCs room carrying a full set of nail varnish, face masks, perfume and all sorts of makeup tools to help cheer them up and making them look their best again

Decides not to knock, they probably won’t mind!

Takes one look at MC in a ball on the bed and Asmo is running to their side and cradling them in his arms, completely disregarding the box he came in with

Brushes their hair with his fingers and shushes them, telling them it’ll be alright

Cups their face in his hands and asks them what’s been going on lately and why they aren’t taking care of their skin

They tell him they’ve been feeling depressed lately and just hasn’t been feeling like themself the past few days

Asmo, like Mammon, doesn’t understand why they’re so unhappy, so asks why they feel that way

MC tells him they feel worthless and replaceable and Asmo just listens while they let out all their feelings

He assures them that that’s not true and he loves them dearly

Gets up off the bed to grab the kit he came in with and offered to cheer MC up and hopefully make them feel a bit better about themself

Now Asmo regularly checks up on them, giving them words of support, encouragement and love and even happily does MCs nails if they ask

Beel

Didn’t really notice much at first

Started to worry when they stopped coming to meal times

Decided to stop them in the corridor and ask them if they could talk in his room

Sat them down on his bed and asked them if they’re feeling alright

When they started to break down, he held MC tightly and rocked them gently for a while until they calmed down

When they told him they were depressed, Beel had to ask what they meant, as he didn’t quite understand

After explaining, Beel knew exactly what to do, as Belphie had showed signs when he lost Lilith

He rushed down to the kitchen and grabbed MC’s favourite comfort foods and drinks

Sat with them for as long as they needed eating as little or as much as MC wanted

After that, Beel became their personal body guard and councillor

Whenever MC wanted someone to talk to, Beel would step up to the be the demon to help

Very very protective from then on

Constantly checking if they’re eating enough and taking care of themself

Gives massive bear hugs if MC looks even slightly sad, and refuses to let go until he sees them smile

Belphie

Didn’t exactly notice straight away as he’s asleep more than 80% of the time

Began to see the issue when MC never left their room and was sleeping almost more than him

Didn’t really think it was their place to pry but he hated seeing them so down and with them being in their room so much, it meant he never had his nap buddy around

He was another demon who wasn’t exactly a stranger to depression so thought it would be about time to step in

So walked into their room one day unannounced, picked them up, flung them over their shoulder and put them in the attic bed

Cuddles up to them, wrapping his arms around their waist and asks them what’s been bothering them so much

When he feels their body shake and sees wet tear drops dampen his pillow, he squeezes them tightly, rubbing his face into their neck and lightly stroking their hair

Let’s them cry it out for a while until they’re ready to talk

Urges them to tell him so he can know how to help them when they’re feeling like this

When MC tells him they’re depressed and just feel this way sometimes, he contemplated what to say to cheer them up

Continues to just hold them in his arms and tell them it’ll pass soon and gives them little compliments and encouraging words every now and again

From then on, he’s sorta just clung to MC

Sleeping? They’re right there next to him. Eating? Right there next to him. Classes? Sat right next to him

Likes to take as many naps as possible with them as he believe a good cuddle solves everything

A/N: if anyone ever needs someone to talk to about life, or how they’re feeling, my DMs are always open. As someone who struggles with bad mental health, I will understand. This is a no judgment zone. You are amazing and whoever you are, even if we haven’t met, I love you and your life is worth it :)

[robthomissed]

Hidden Gems

This is half fic and half love letter to the Art Museum honestly. I adore that place and I got this idea stuck in my head one day. I haven't written anything in a while so I apologize for how rough it might be. Also yes I took the time to link the art I referenced, I am that much of a nerd.

You love going to the Art Museum and have often gone alone because it was just a nice way to relax. Robby is dumbfounded that you go by yourself even after you have taken him there once and shown him all of your favorite pieces. You explain that you love putting your earbuds in, turning on soft music, and just walking around quietly for a few hours. The next time you say you are going to the museum without him he says “No, I’m coming.”

You smile and try to explain “I just kinda want to have some time in my own head for a bit. We can watch a movie when I get home”

Robby thinks it over for a second before perking up like a lightbulb went off in his head. “Well how about I come and we start your museum playlist at the same time and just walk around by ourselves but still together kinda. If that makes sense?”

And honestly yeah it was just what you needed. You were free to move around however you wanted and Robby did the same but you would catch glimpses of him through doorways or just watch him admire one of the artworks when he thought you were in another room. There was something very comforting about knowing he was just around.

You thought back to how excited you had been to show him the Art Museum when you first got together and how you were also slightly disappointed that none of the other guys on the team had really been either. Maybe you could talk to the other girls and set up a group trip. But did you really want to risk subjecting the other visitors to what DP was like when he got bored and was finding ways to entertain himself? I mean he had barely made it through all the speeches at the ring ceremony.

It had been a rainy and grey afternoon when you had first taken Robby to the museum. It was one of his last off days before the season but the weather had put a damper on your original plan of a picnic on Art Hill. But you assured him the day wasn’t wasted and that there was plenty to see inside the massive stone building that held one of St. Louis’ greatest gems.

The look on his face when he saw how big Water Lilies actually is was priceless. He just wanted to stand there and look at it for a while which you were more than happy to oblige since it was one of your favorites anyways.

It took a little more selling on your part to get him interested in the modern and abstract stuff but he enjoyed watching how you got absorbed into the art around you. He took the opportunity to get some pictures of you since you pretty much never let him take them otherwise. You only found out about them a couple weeks later when you happened to see that his lock screen was a picture of you backlit by the led light installation. You honestly couldn’t figure out how he had gotten that angle without you noticing. He did get pretty excited about the burnt and broken violin encased in plastic so that was a small victory.

Your favorite moment might have been when a museum employee had yelled at him for getting too close to the statues because he was absolutely mesmerized by the folds in the fabric. He simply couldn’t understand how the artist had managed to make the stone look like transparent cloth.

The room you let him explore on his own was the section with all the Egyptian artifacts and the mummy. You wanted absolutely nothing to do with that but Robby got right down next to it looking back at you in the doorway saying “Babe can you believe this?! Look, you can see their hair and everything!” It was admittedly cute to see him so excited but also you will never understand how he got that close. You thought nothing would top it until you mentioned the sword room and he just looked at you with wide eyes and made you take him there immediately. He kept taking pictures to send to Rou and Sammy which apparently piqued their interest enough that they invited themselves on your next museum date.

There had been a more sullen moment when he had seen what was admittedly one of your favorite pieces in the whole museum, Despair by Auguste Rodin. Robby just kinda stopped and stared at it with a look on his face that was hard to decipher until he said “Yeah dude, I know how you feel.” He said it so softly, almost like it was just between him and the man collapsed in agony. Then the image of him crumpled on the ice in Boston flashed in your mind and you thought you maybe understood what he meant. You hadn’t known him then but knowing him now you can only imagine how much pain he had been in while recovering from his concussion and how lonely that experience must have been. You grabbed his hand and squeezed gently as you pulled him away and over to another of your favorite paintings.

Robby called you a dork when you got really excited about the collection of mid-century modern furniture stashed away in the basement but there is just something about their design that makes you love them. But he had admitted that the little room tucked away in the corner of the basement with a glass roof and the soft leather couch was the perfect spot to just sit and listen to the rain.

You must have been standing there a long time lost in thought because you let out a yell that was slightly too loud for a museum when someone came up behind you and put a hand on your shoulder. Thankfully, when you turned around to see who it was you saw Robby with his hand covering his mouth trying to keep his laughing to a more acceptable volume. How had he gotten behind you anyway?

“I think you zoned out again babe. That, or that blank wall is a whole new level of abstract art that I don’t understand.”

You laughed and pressed your face into his shoulder to try and hide the blush that was starting to color your face.

Robby just put his arm around you and started pulling you towards the stairs “Come on I heard someone mention the cafe downstairs is open again and I want coffee”

And who were you to deny him when he knew you always wanted coffee and fancy pastries.

A couple hours later you could tell that Robby had reached his limit and was ready to go home so you told him to go out and get the car while you looked at one last thing. When you walked down the front steps of the museum on the way to meet him you stopped in your tracks when you saw Robby standing under the statue of King Louis IX. The sunset behind him was gorgeous. He was gorgeous. You had always loved St. Louis but now sharing it with Robby and watching him exist in places you knew like the back of your hand brought the city to life in ways you had never imagined. You couldn’t wait to show Robby the next hidden gem so that he could fall in love with the city just like you had fallen in love with him.

[sylvie-writes]

His Little Love

pairing: steve rogers x reader x sarah

word count: 1595

request: “I was hoping for Valentines day (I know it’s not even Christmas yet but I can’t get this idea out of my head, I had a dream about it the other night and I want you to write it) of Steve taking Sarah on a daddy daughter lunch date for Valentine’s Day, like he shows up at the house with flowers for her and rings the doorbell and takes her out for lunch and they are both dressed up(he’s trying to show her how a gentleman is supposed to treat a lady and to never settle for anything less) and they go have lunch then he drops her off with her grandparents and then picks up his wife and takes her away for the weekend for a romantic Valentine’s mini vacation and they talk about adding to the family while sitting next to the fireplace?” -anon 

author’s note: such a cute idea! thanks for sharing nonnie!

warnings: none

pardon any mistakes!!!

The simple ringing of the apartment doorbell sounded at the right time as you had just set down the hairbrush, now allowing for Sarah to be able to jump out of your lap and dash to the door. 

Today was Valentine’s Day and about this time last week, Steve had a brilliant idea to take Sarah out for a lunch date. Granted, it was midnight when said idea popped into his head, and he was so excited he forgot that you valued your sleep more than anything he had to say. Luckily, you had a soft spot for anything Steve did for Sarah and you allowed for him to get away with waking you up that time. Then a few days later, your husband hand wrote one of his infamous letters and hand delivered it to Sarah as she watched some cartoons on the couch that morning. While this all happened, you were in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for your daughter and heard her ever-adorable, squeal of excitement. 

Fast forward a few more days, and Valentine’s Day has arrived. Steve had gone out that morning, going to arrange things and what not, allowing you some time to dress Sarah. She had picked out one of her favorite dresses that was sparkly, as with everything else that resided in her closet. From there, you blow dried her hair and styled it which was a big deal as the little munchkin would never allow you to do so for any other event. That’s how she showed up to Nat and Bucky’s wedding with two lopsided pigtails. Out of tradition, you spritzed some of your perfume and Sarah giddily walked through the cloud. 

11:30 on the dot, Steve punctually arrived at your apartment door, and that’s when your toddler lurched from her seat in your lap and to the door to meet her date. On the way, she had forgotten a sock as you saw one foot bare. With a small giggle, you slightly jogged to meet the girl at the door where she was slipping on her shoes, and failing a bit. You slipped on her other sock and then helped fasten the buckles on her little mary-jane shoes. Sighing in relief, you stood up to answer the door where your husband waited with a bouquet in his hands, wearing a gray suit and tie that made him look even more dashing than usual. 

“You ready, my little valentine?” Steve bent down to slip on Sarah’s jacket and you could see a smile permanently etched onto her face. She then placed her hand in his and the two left but not without each kissing you goodbye. You stood in the doorway and wished the pair a good time. “I expect her to be home before ten, Rogers!” 

Steve looked back at you with a wink, “Of course, ma’am.” 

From the window, you could see the tall blonde opening the door for the smaller lookalike and his mouth moving a mile a minute, presumably saying something along the lines of, “Rule of thumb, if a guy doesn’t open the door for you, then he doesn’t deserve your time.” You knew that today he was going to be showing her how a real gentleman should act. Once they both got situated in the car, you chuckled to yourself and attended your own date with a pile of laundry.  

Around one o’clock, your family returned, happy, talkative, and smiley as usual. Sarah couldn’t stop talking and the minute she walked in the house, she ran to sit on the couch beside you. She seemed absolutely thrilled by the events of her lunch date with Steve, that she told you every single detail and it felt as if you were there with her, rather than currently sitting on the couch folding towels. 

At one point, about five minutes into your daughter’s story, you looked up for Steve who had seemingly disappeared. Scanning the room, you could spot his figure in your bedroom, on the phone with someone and whoever it was, they were making him smile just like the toddler before you. It piqued your curiosity to say the least, but instead of interrupting Sarah or Steve, you just stayed put and listened to the rest of the little darling’s story. A few minutes later, the recollection of the lunch date came to an end and Sarah had wandered off to get a fruit snack pouch, or was it a bottle of water? You had zoned out a bit, too preoccupied with a certain man’s whereabouts and just nodded your head as she asked if you wanted one. Suddenly, Steve put down his cell phone, and turned to catch your stare. A bit embarrassed, you looked back down at the daunting laundry basket that now held clothes. In a split second, the man had already crossed the room and taken the seat beside you on the couch. He kissed your temple before reaching down to help fold. For a few minutes, you both folded clothes in comfortable silence when Steve momentarily paused to remove his tie. You could see him struggling so you stopped your own folding to face him and untie the darn thing. He looked down on you with a smile and you returned the gesture along with a kiss to the corner of his lips. Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his neck and blissfully gazed at him. 

Steve looked at you with a smirk and you were confused until he spoke up. “You’re probably wondering who I was on the phone with, huh?”

With a small laugh, you nodded your head in defeat. 

“Well, it was your parents…” At this you cocked your head and raised an eyebrow, “I was asking them if they could watch Sarah this weekend.” He shrugged and you removed your arms, leaning back.

“Steven Grant Rogers, what are you up to?” He shook his head, signaling that it wasn’t anything that you should’ve been worried about. It was quite the opposite, in fact. “Nothing bad, love. I was gonna whisk you away this weekend if it’s okay.” 

The minute you agreed, Sarah coincidentally returned to the room with her backpack in hand. “I heard Mommy say yes!” Apparently she was in on it too and you let out a breathy laugh at their sneaky planning. Standing from the couch and leaving Steve to finish the laundry, you went to go and actually pack Sarah’s backpack. Although you appreciated her effort, stuffed animals wouldn't be enough for the weekend. 

That night, you and Steve arrived at a log cabin in the northern part of New York. On the drive over, it had started to snow, making the atmosphere even more enjoyable, especially with the outlook onto the icy lake. It was nice and quiet and you questioned how he was able to score such a place for Valentine's Day weekend. Needless to say, it had been a while since you and Steve had alone time such as this. Your husband had now changed into a flannel, and he looked a bit like a lumberjack which made you laugh as the burly man toted the bags inside. 

For dinner, Steve had ordered some Chinese takeout and drove into the nearby small town while you got ready for the night as it was nearing nine o’clock. In your duffle bag that was packed last minute, you had one of your lover’s long sleeves in there, the one that was your favorite to curl up in. Changing into that, you then waited for a few minutes on the couch when Steve returned, a bag of cardboard cartons in one hand while the other held your favorite bouquet of flowers. (Upon closer inspection, you noticed there were as many flowers as the years you two had been together.) The two of you then picked a movie and sat in each other’s embraces, cycling through eating, laughing about the movie, or chatting about anything and everything, including Sarah, of course. 

Empty takeout containers scattered across the coffee table, the movie’s end was nearing, the crackle of the fire had died down, and your head was now sleepily resting on Steve’s arm that had been wrapped around your shoulders. 

“Hey (y/n), you awake, darling?” You could feel Steve turn his head to take a peek at you. Sitting up, you shifted to face him, arm resting on the back of the couch and hand propping you up. “What’s up?”

“I have something important to ask you.” Steve looked a bit nervous and you reached out to soothingly grab his shoulder while giving him your full attention. 

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while, you know Sarah’s getting older, and we’ve talked about more kids. Now honey, if you don’t think now is the right time, that’s okay, but I figured I should bring it up and see what you were thinking.” By the end of his speech, Steve had taken your hands out of your own lap and now was placing soft kisses to your knuckles. All of this took you by surprise, but the good kind. For a while you’ve been thinking the same thing, but you never really thought to bring it up. Somehow you and Steve always seemed to be on the same page even if you didn’t know it. 

“I think that would be amazing, bubs.” 

There was the most endearing smile on his lips and he immediately pulled you in for a hug, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. 

taglist: @memissbee @tricereads @buckybarnesthehotshot @bval-1 @tonystankschild @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @turtoix @kelbabyblue @jakiki94 @aubreeskailynn @calirindo @lady-elena-adeline​ @siriuslyslyslytherin @sushiinmidnight​ @patzammit​ @iwik3it

[clairdelunelove]

Closer Than We Seem

kyoutani kentarou x f!reader

genre: slight angst, fluff, comfort, romance, mutual pining 

warnings: cursing, implied past physical abuse, mentions of physical/verbal harassment 

synopsis: college!kyoutani demanded to know the source of the obnoxious arguing that kept him awake throughout the night. The thin walls barely filtered out the yelling and he had a 7:00 a.m. class in the morning. Venturing out to immediately put an end to it, kyou stumbles upon a person with a past that changes both their lives- and romance ensues. 

a.n: 5.0k words of some kyoutani content! enjoy!

He was sick of it.

Amber eyes, bloodshot around the edges, shifted to glance at the digital clock seated on the nightstand. The dark plastic is well worn as the illuminated screen is covered in cracks. Undoubtedly, the piece of technology was victim to his annoyed clobbering whenever the alarm went off.

Smothering a plush pillow over his ears, the blonde fervently attempts to block the commotion. His fingers press tightly against the only source of comfort that keeps his sanity at bay. A raised vein etched across his jawline as his teeth grind together and he forces out a grunt. 

2:25

“It’s been two damn hours.” 

Kyoutani’s gravelly voice is barely heard over the yelling in the next room. Disgruntled, he removes the pillow from his face and tosses it beside him with a roll of his eyes. The part-time college student is openly miffed by the lack of peaceful sleep he could be getting. He, quite honestly, didn’t appreciate showing up to morning classes with eye-bags as dark as the eyeliner that he meticulously lined his eyes with. Over the past four months, adequate rest is a miracle for him to discover each day. 

“And they’re still arguing,” Kyoutani rambles on while using the bottom of his hand to hammer the pillow onto the mattress, “who the fuck argues that long?” 

Scrunching his thin eyebrows, he tries to comprehend the mere logic behind quarrelling in the middle of the night, especially on a school night. By all means, Kyoutani isn’t a saint amongst sinners but in a couple hours the blond has a chemistry quiz, a subject he’s gloriously failing, and sleep was needed. 

Another frustrated shout rips through the popcorn textured walls which doesn’t muffle the noise due to the poor insulation covering. The voice is distinctly a male’s and it takes all of Kyoutani’s willpower not to roar back to assert his dominance. Instead, his fingertips rake through his cropped hair while letting out a grumble. 

His eyelids feel like weights are strapped to them, progressively drooping shut, as his vision becomes blurry. A rare silence drifts through his cramped dorm room. The place resembles a battle zone with clothes tossed to the bed, papers scattered over the desk, and empty protein bar wrappers cascaded on the floor. Yet, Kyoutani adored the small freedom he finally had at the university dorms. 

The silence lulls him to close his bloodshot eyes, a deep exhale flares out his pointed nose, and a relief floods through him. He might actually get some rest for once. 

“Get out!” 

At the obnoxious yell from the neighboring room, the blond is far too annoyed to logically comprehend his actions before his bruised knuckles are knocking at the wall. The numbness of rapping at the wall is barely registered over how livid Kyoutani is at the intrusion to his sleep. 

“Shut up!” 

He throws in the bellow for good measure and stops his onslaught of assault on the wall. It seems awkward scolding the wall and his hand slowly drops to his lap. His sharp eyes track the movement of his fingers, dimly noting that he needs to trim the cracked edges. Perhaps his unpolished fingertips are the reason for his missed spikes on the volleyball court lately. 

A solid thump resonates back to him, to which Kyoutani dumbly blinks at. Hairs at the back of his neck stand and he can literally feel the heat leave his ears as his blood boils. The college student’s temper has simmered down since high school but hearing the other person’s unperturbed knock ticked him off. It was almost like they were taunting him. 

“Oh that’s it,” he mumbles and kicks away the blanket that interlaced his figure. 

Stretching across the small room, his legs move on its own accord and he reaches to twist the knob of the door. Using the expanse of his muscular shoulder, he pushes the wooden structure open in hopes of confronting the rowdy student that resided next to his dorm room. 

Permanent frown plastered on his pale lips, the blond urges to dramatize the expression. He crosses his arms after knocking on the neighboring door and the action displays his athletic build as a result of years of sports. The irate appearance was perfected as a scare tactic that he used to his advantage in varying situations. Petrifying the student next door wasn’t excluded out of the list.

“Could you shut your mouth? You’re being too damn loud, man--”

Kyoutani allowed himself to commit a double take before hastily shutting his own mouth, only for it to part as a sharp inhale almost made him sputter. His onslaught of vulgarity, a script he’d previously rehearsed plenty of times, fell lost on his tongue as he eyes the female in front of him. 

You’re unfairly pretty. 

It pains him that the first thought that races within his mind is a compliment when your mascara is smudged at the edges. Your frizzy hair is at a disarray, strands sticking up even when it’s pulled into a ponytail. The hoodie that you’re wearing is far too large as the end hits above your midthigh and his thoughts short circuit when he drags his gaze upward to see that you’re already giving him a sheepish smile. 

“Sorry,” your voice pitches higher at the sudden appearance of the male, “were we being too loud?” 

“N-no? I mean yes,” Kyoutani sputters the first words and finishes his reasoning with a pathetic remark, “chemistry.” 

Your face lights up, visibly amused with his lack of speech at the moment while understandingly nodding, “you have a chemistry test?” 

“Yeah.”

“And you need to get some sleep before it?”

“Yeah.”

His responses are pitiful- even he knew- but there was only so much he could verbally say when focusing on the way your lips curved up when smiling. Plus, perhaps he was delusional with the lack of sleep, but your curiosity seemed to dip to his lean physique.

“I’m so sorry,” your eyes follow the blond’s movement of leaning against the doorframe, “we’ll try to keep it down so you can get some rest.” 

His brain disconnects with the small ounce of logic he carries when your sleeve sweeps across your nose to sniffle and he recognizes the dried tears that stain your face. Kyoutani isn't the best at handling emotions or being touchy-feely but he’s not ignorant.

“You good?” He asks while cautiously taking a step forward.

His defensive instincts, honed by years of avoiding other people, raise at the wary glint in your eyes. The blond’s inquisition is answered with a meek nod of your head and your nose scrunches to halt your sobs. Upon closer inspection, the sleeves on your hoodie is drenched in what he infers are tears.

Your feet remain rooted to the ground, neither welcoming him or pushing his intrusiveness away. He’s aware of the slight shake of your body and his golden eyes widen at how unnerved you were behaving. 

“My bad,” Kyoutani falters as his own doubts consume him, “I didn’t mean to make you cry-” 

“Who’s at the door, (Y/n)?”

The new voice, startling you with the sudden shout, comes from within the room. Distinctly, it’s the same tone that was hollering while Kyoutani was trying to sleep. The blond’s keen on how you were shifting your weight to each foot and the fidgeting only increased when footsteps resounded on the creaking floorboards. 

“Oh,” you squeak as your evasive gaze connects with his, “my dorm room neighbor.” 

Pulling your hands away from your face, a naive expression is plastered on when a male comes up behind you. The stranger is shorter and less lean than Kyoutani is. Yet, when the male captures your stare, you’re reeling back by fiddling with your fingers behind your back. 

The unpleasant male, brunet but his darker roots were peeking out, regards Kyoutani with a sniff, “can we help you?” 

Something about the male irked the blond and a frown tugs at his lips. He predicted that the guy was your boyfriend or had some type of connection with you. Being in university led to freedoms such as relationships. Although Kyoutani was a stranger to such involvement, he knew the attachment or void others were attempting to fill during these years.

“Yeah, you can,” the blond responds with a miffed scowl, “noise complaint.” 

There’s an uncomfortable silence when the brunet eyes Kyoutani with an agitated glower. It’s painstakingly silent. He’s surely showcasing his superiority within the uneasy situation. Though, the volleyball player is grateful for his decision of wearing a tattered, sleeveless shirt because the other male loosened into an apprehensive gaze. 

“She wasn’t listening to me, so,” the other male jut a thumb towards you and shrugs his shoulders, “sorry, dude.”

Raising a sharp brow, Kyoutani’s expression is dubious when noting how the blame is placed on you when the other male was clearly the only one hollering beforehand. It clicks that the uneasy flickering within your eyes is due to the other male and disgust engulfs him. 

His fist clenches, displeasure rolling off of him in waves before speaking up, “I’m pretty sure I just heard your loudass screeching. Just keep it down.” 

The brunet clams up at the jest, forehead wrinkling just enough to cause worry that lines would permanently stay there. Kyoutani watches the way the other male’s jaw tightens before he’s storming off. The blond regards the other’s lack of positivity with a roll of his eyes and mutters an insult under his breath. 

A whisper, faint but lingering in the silent air, leaves your lips, “thanks.” 

“Nah,” his amber eyes flicker to yours, “don’t need to thank me. ‘Ts about time someone put him in his place.” 

“Tell me about it.” 

“I could,” Kyoutani pauses to toe at the floorboards and the cheap tile chips at the touch, “if you’d let me.” 

The words tumble out of his mouth before it can be filtered and the result has him reeling back. His cheeks are warm, probably matching with his reddened ears. The invitation is annoyingly corny and the staleness makes him want to hurl. 

“Sounds like a deal.” 

Your response has his attention locked onto you again and he’s internally thankful that he’s not the only one embarrassed by his impromptu. Thumbing at the sleeves of your sweater, a lopsided grin etches across your face and the blond freezes up. His mind is functioning as quickly as a bullet train but his expression only stares back at you with a stupidly blank look. 

Your giggle snaps him out of his stupor before putting him into a daze over how charming the noise sounds. An entertained peek casts over him as you tuck your hair away from your face.

“I guess I’ll see you around-”

“Kentarou,” he discloses with a respectful yet hurried bow of his head, “Kyoutani Kentarou.” 

“(Y/n)(L/n). Call me (Y/n),” you mention before begrudgingly edging the door closed, “and good luck on your chemistry test, Kentarou.”

The next day, it irritates him that he can only conjure up an image of your smile when he should be solving for Planck’s constant.

-

“Whatcha doing there?” 

Keys dangling in his grasp, he halts at the front of his dorm room door. It’s unwelcomely cold today and the brisk wind has his fingers alike to popsicles. The blond’s tried to fight off the chill with his customary varsity jacket and black beanie. Ideally he didn’t toss on the hat because he couldn’t bother with styling his hair- of course not. 

You’re situated on the floor with your knees pulled up to your chest while balancing a notebook atop of your makeshift desk. The lined paper has quick notes jotted down, highlighted words, and doodled diagrams that Kyoutani is able to discreetly peer at. A twinge of satisfaction tugs at him when your study habits are exactly what he’d picture they would be. 

“Studying,” your eyes never leave your paper as you respond to him. 

Uncapping a pastel highlighter, you exaggerate the action by underlining a phrase written in your notebook and raising a brow at him. The incredulous look on your face only comes off as sarcastic as Kyoutani rolls his dark eyes at your mockery. A grin curls on your lips while raising your shoe to nudge the side of his boot. He’s recognized each one of quirks, including your friendly banter.

“No shit Sherlock,” the blond pulls his hand away from the door and tucks the keys into his pocket, “coulda sworn you were sleeping.”

Crouching on par with you, he extends a finger to poke at your cheek and indicates the dark bags underneath your eyes. It’s lighthearted payback for the attitude he received just a second ago yet there’s a concerned glint in his stare. The darkness that surrounds your eyes is apparent even with the dab of concealer you managed to slap on in the morning and an embarrassed hand covers half of your face. 

“Kyou!” 

The threat isn’t laced with malice but the jab at his shoulder sure proves that humiliation is a strong consequence of emotion. He lets out a groan while gingerly rubbing the ache that emits from the bundle of muscle you punched. 

Childishly sticking out your tongue at his dramatics, you declare, “that’s what you get.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

He pauses and then recognizes that the position you’re in is one that seemed too familiar. Your gaze flutters back to the flimsy notebook, aware of how perceptive Kyoutani was when it involved the wellbeing of yours. 

Inviting the blond to warm up to you was certainly a gradual process but you did not regret it. Shy smiles transformed into late night talks over the phone. The two of you had a special yet uncharted compassion for each other that had bloomed over the last two months. 

“What,” the words taste like venom in his mouth and he desperately wants to spit it out, “he locked you out again?” 

You feign interest in your notes, physiology facts are sprawled onto the margins, while avoiding Kyoutani’s heated gaze. His hand balls into a fist, dull fingernails digging into the soft flesh of his palm. He knows that you won’t answer the seemingly obvious question even when you’re slumped on the floor in a feeble heap and it tugs at his heart.

Unfortunately, when Kyoutani faces displeasure he’s only adept to outwardly show his emotions. Ever since he was born, it was a rule to allow oneself to be impassioned about hobbies, beliefs, and avocations. The blond applied the rule to showcasing his appreciation to the people he deemed as special, as per usual. Except, he didn’t have the best grasp on handling his intense emotions. 

“He’s always treating you like shit,” the next part comes out like a scoff that rages within him, “and you’re always falling for it.” 

The weight of the words felt like a blow to your face, leaving a stinging sensation that resonated within you. The confrontation shook you to the core. Not once has the male ever blamed you for your boyfriend’s inconsideration. 

Kyoutani’s chapped lips form around the syllables of the offense and he automatically knows that he just messed up. Curses sling together within his mind as he pitifully watches your reaction. A silent wince morphs upon your delicate face. You’re recoiling away from him, shrinking yourself into the crevice of the wall. His fingertips reach for you, the action is subconscious, and the next words spill out of his mouth like an off brand remedy. 

“Listen, (Y/n), I didn’t mean it like that-” 

“No,” you speak up with newfound acrimony, “that’s exactly what you meant.” 

Lifting your head up, your narrowed eyes connect with Kyoutani’s wide ones. A part of you desperately wishes to become agitated with the blond. Envy grips a hold of you at the thought that he’s able to live his life freely without the burden of an overbearing significant other. By all means, he had all the attributes to attest your relationship- or lack thereof. 

Your furrowed expression mellows.

Yet, his comment awakens a self reflection that you’ve casted away to maintain some dignity. Your boyfriend’s attitude toward you equated to virtually nothing. Countless nights of arguing, getting locked out, and being pushed aside were bouts of normalcy to you. It was your responsibility to get the respect that you deserved. Cutting out toxicity, even if the future frightened you, was an initial step. 

The golden hue outlining Kyoutani’s eyes, intense in many cases, recast into a softened stare. He’s mindful of the gears shifting in your head and the tremble of your bottom lip settles it. Unknowingly, you just received a life changing message with his chiding. The doors of independence and freedom swing open. An exhale passes through your lips. 

Crouching closer to you, the blond compels your attention with a tilt of his head, “sorry.” 

The apology is gruff, likely the result of his avoidance toward wrongdoings, but the intent is clearly there. Chewing on his bottom lip, he gestures toward your fragile stance with a shifty gaze. Your cowering behavior scared him immensely. It wasn’t often someone else was willing to interact with his loner self. He can’t mess this up even when his pride is screaming at him to bicker.

“It’s not your fault,” you shake your head in reassurance, “I know that it’s mine.” 

Unintentionally, your demeanor frees open with his genuine apology and you can’t help but be soothed at the gentle prod in his scrutiny. He appreciates that you’re able to acknowledge his opposition because the male wasn’t planning on taking his comment back. The truth may hurt but it’ll ultimately improve your mentality in the long run. 

Perching on the heels of his feet, he repositions himself to improve comfort. His arms are draped over his knees and the jacket bunches at the ends due to his movement. The blond is close, alarmingly near your face, and an aromatic whiff of dry cedar invades your senses. 

“You’re just,” his confession smoothly slips out, “too good for him.”

The side of his face rests against his forearm while he awaits your response. He’s content when your eyes light up, gleaming in reverence, at his blunt compliment. Lips tugging upward, your lopsided grin is all he has to witness as he hops to his feet. His palm pats at the faded denim of his jeans before offering his free hand to you. 

“C’mon,” he easily pulls you to your feet in a quick motion, “you can hangout in my dorm room, I guess.” 

“What do you mean, ‘you guess’?” 

Kyoutani catches your teasing eye roll while organizing your school materials that are cluttered on the floor. He’s nimble, stacking your books into a pile and swinging your backpack over his wiry shoulder. 

“I mean, let’s go.” 

With the grace of a dancer, the blond balances the items while fetching his keys and unlocking the door. He nudges it open and steps aside to let you enter first. Certainly the male must’ve picked up the chivalrous acts in a sappy movie or television show because your heart thumps against your chest. It’s absurd in reality. A person helping another is ordinariness yet you feel like you’re flying when he looks at you expectantly.

“Thank you,” the gratitude is a whisper as you tug your sweater tighter to your body and eagerly slide past him.

“Don’t mention it.” 

The room is comfortably warm, easing away the shivers that racked throughout you while seated in the middle of the dorm hallway. Its surprisingly tidy, which also comes across as a shock to Kyoutani because the scrunch of his nose indicates that he’s accustomed to a messy room. However, upon closer inspection, you note that the blond is the one readily cleaning because he scoots aside a stray snack bag with his elbow. An embarrassed pout conforms to his face when he hears your amused giggle.

Gently placing your stuff on the desk, he notices your awkward stance in the middle of the room and gestures to either his bed or desk chair. You respectfully, minus the internal debate you had, settle on the chair and only then does Kyoutani move over to lounge on his bed. It’s eerily silent despite how comfortable you both are with each other. 

Indefinitely, he flops onto the mattress, much like a child would, and folds his hands behind his head to stare up at the popcorn ceiling. A couple months beforehand he would’ve despised being locked up in his dorm room without having anything to do. Now, however, his nerves were bouncing off the walls.

Peering over to your rigid position, he takes your fiddling fingers and shy demeanor with scrutiny. Not once in his life did he think he’d actually invite a person into his sacred place. Yet, when his gaze locks with yours and you return a coy smile- he’s praying that this won’t be the last time.

“So, I only let you in because I don’t get this chemistry problem-”

“Kyou!”

-

Treading backward, a sense of urgency rushes through you as you narrowly avoid the aggressive hands. It’s bewildering that he’s willing to physically confront you in public. The dorm hallway was bound to have university students frequent the place and prying eyes were not on your current wishlist. 

“What are you doing? I told you that we’re over!” 

The incredulous question goes over his head as he refuses to outrightly answer or perhaps he just didn’t wish to. Before this incident, you attempted to just force in a power nap before your next class that was situated across campus. Your ex boyfriend, however, had other plans as he lingered by your dorm room while you were unaware of the unwanted surprise. 

The unruly male is clearly tipsy and his wandering hands are not in your favor as he lunges for you once more. Thankfully, you sidestep away while your shoulder bumps against the wooden frame of a door. Your blood turns to ice.

“Come here and give me a kiss, babe,” your ex boyfriend garbles. 

The stench of alcohol overwhelms your sobriety and a part of you yearns for the familiar scent of dry cedar musk. You longed for the latter of the aromas to engulf you in a reassuring embrace but grabby hands motioned for you again. A slight tug at your cardigan fuels the hatred that ignites within you. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, inwardly loathing how you managed to date such a pathetic excuse of a person. 

Your hands defensively jab at your ex boyfriend’s chest, “get away from me!” 

“Bitch!”

The sudden force propels him backward, giving you an inch of breathing room, before he’s barreling towards you again. His furrowed brows and snarl illustrate that you’ve unlocked danger. Sweat trickled down your temples, gathering at your hairline and your tongue sweeps across your chapped lips. The thrashing of your heart is the only sensation you’re aware of at the moment. Eyes fixated on his response, you don’t dare to blink. Your ex boyfriend raises a hand, a sign you’ve been introduced to before, and you instinctively flinch at the action.

A lean figure abruptly steps in front of you to provide protection from the physical onslaught. Dry cedar breaches your uneven inhales but you’re holding onto that scent like it was a lifeline. He was your salvation. 

Landing a hit on Kyoutani’s sturdy chest, your ex boyfriend promptly pulls away with a confused glance, “get outta the way, man-” 

“Didn’t you hear her,” the blond barks out and shoves him, “get the fuck away.” 

Waves of animosity radiate off of Kyoutani, a scene that you’ve never witnessed in your encounters with him. He’s absolutely livid. His teeth gnash together while his hands are clenched at his sides. The veins on his brow protrude as a result of his creased forehead. Kyoutani’s damp in perspiration from his hurried movement, a deduction you’ve assumed. 

The male is clad in exercise attire, probably coming back from a run, and his dri fit shirt conforms to his physique. His pullover and snug joggers were clear indicators that Kyoutani was in excellent physical shape, causing a wary stare from your ex boyfriend. 

If the muscles rippling off of Kyoutani’s body isn’t a fright factor then his black, rimmed eyes are intimidatingly adequate. Yet, your ex boyfriend has intelligence compared to a newborn so he still lurches forward to attack Kyoutani. The blond dodges, grasps your ex boyfriend’s wrist, and twists it behind the other’s back. His defensive response is swift- almost alarmingly so that you wonder if Kyoutani ever brawled before. 

“Seriously, cut the shit,” the blond warns, “leave (Y/n) alone.”

When your ex boyfriend utters a curse embedded within your name, the blond pulls the seized wrist tighter and a sickening crack echoes. Your hand flies up to your lips. Yowling in pain, your ex boyfriend’s mouth instinctively shuts to avoid further punishment. 

“‘Ts alright,” Kyoutani rolls his eyes at the other’s dramatic behavior, “I didn’t break it. Yet.” 

Your ex boyfriend’s eyes widen, irises dilated at the gruesome image conjured up in his mind, and pitifully begs, “I-I’ll leave you alone! Please. I’ll do anything! Jesus Christ, (Y/n), who is this guy?” 

Turning his cheek, your ex-boyfriend gets a glimpse of Kyoutani’s face and the recognition dawns on him. He’s seen the aggressive blond before. Months ago, when your ex boyfriend was hollering at your lack of intimacy and the other’s lined eyes glared at him to surrender. One side of the blond’s lips raise, a snarky smirk directed towards the other male. Triumphant reigns within Kyoutani. 

“Her new boyfriend.” 

Raising a freshly cut eyebrow, Kyoutani incites a victorious expression as your ex boyfriend’s eyes are downcast at the message. The blond sneers. A sense of satisfaction, you suppose that’s the rare emotion, floods within you at your offender’s misfortune. You toss Kyoutani a grateful smile and he’s left faltering. He blinks- once, twice, three times- before regaining his intimidating demeanor.

“Get the fuck outta here,” Kyoutani shoves the other male forward when acknowledging the lack of resistance, “or I swear I’ll invert your ribcage.” 

Your ex boyfriend doesn’t need to be reminded, sprinting off with his tail tucked between his legs and stumbling on his uncoordinated strides. You and Kyoutani regard the pathetic male with a deplorable frown. Then, the blond is tugging you close while burying his face into the crook of your neck. You don’t mind the sweat that gathers onto him and instead delve into comfort. A giggle resounds to reach him and he lets in a shaky inhale. He was indebted to the pure luck of running back to you. The thought of you getting injured or reliving the trauma you’ve initially faced was heartbreaking. 

“Kyou,” your nickname to him was like a secret prayer you voiced, “I love you.”

He’s steadfast, a physique of strength and warmth, giving you a perfect invitation to cling onto. Respect, loyalty, and adoration were qualities that you didn’t have to force out of him. Violence, in any form, were taboos that he never crossed. The blond is undoubtedly the beginning of your journey towards self-love. 

“I love you too.” 

The genuine moment lingers on when your teasing nature resumes upon hearing Kyoutani’s forthright confession. Your hand comes up to trace his jawline, collecting perspiration that hasn’t dried up quite yet. He’s still cradling you, fingers protectively pressed against your waist. The sentiment is seldom, yet welcomed, and Kyoutani’s drawing you closer. He’s earnest. Scrunching up your nose, you jokingly flick at his forehead and he’s grumbling at your childishness. 

“You didn’t tell me you’d gone out running,” you motion toward his frazzled state. 

“Phone died.” 

He fishes out his phone from his back pocket. Sure enough, your reflection is illuminated on the dark screen and you nod in acknowledgement. Your head dips to lay on the junction of Kyoutani’s chest. Allowing yourself to get swept up in his embrace is habitual, the addiction smothering an unmistakable itch inside you. 

He’s silent before remarking, “I got us takeout though.” 

Golden eyes don’t miss your gleaming ones and you’re beaming at the mention of food. Raising your head, the narrow stare he’s given causes him to motion to the forgotten bag that’s placed on the floor. Boxed cuisine was cast aside when Kyoutani saw the trouble you were caught up in. 

“What’d you get?” 

“Pizza,” he pauses, “and mozzarella sticks since you liked that stuff.” 

“You’re the best.”

Lifting on your tiptoes, you press a gentle kiss on his cheek and you emit a carefree giggle. His ears burn crimson yet the presumptuous grin on his face brings butterflies in your stomach. Fingers pressing into the sides of your cheeks, he responds with a chaste, insistent kiss on your lips and hums in covert satisfaction. 

It’s dizzying. Your mind is flooded with images of Kyoutani- his appeal in usual clothing, each line of muscle on his physique, and the carnal desire that swirls in his gaze when he pulls away. Your knees are putty as you’re rooted to your spot. The observant fixation is all you need to recognize when he’s aware of his effect on you and he raises a smug brow. 

“Your room or mine?” 

His question is in the form of a drawl, mostly uttered to raise impatience, but it only adds to the adoration you have for him. Your rooms are, quite literally, twenty feet apart. 

Taking a step forward, the blond grasps the large takeout bag while slipping your hand into his free one. His thumb drags across your skin and you’re shivering at his tenderness. Kyoutani proudly rakes his gaze over you, openly compliant and completely in love, before slowly chuckling. 

“Not that it matters, I guess.”

[harryspet]

why won’t you love me | peter parker

[Warnings] peter parker x dark reader, yandere reader, sub!peter, dom!reader, crime boss au, stalker au, senior year au, kidnapping, violence, underage drinking, noncon sex, oral sex (male receiving), bondage, peter and reader are 18

A/N: This is inspired by two ideas I received as well as the lyrics  “I will have you, yes, I will have you. I will find a way and I will have you. Like a butterfly, a wild butterfly, I will collect you and capture you.” Obsession- Animotion for @mariessecretfantasies​ 500 Follower Writing Challenge! Please go follow her and read her dark fics :)

TRIGGERING ADULT CONTENT AHEAD

In which Peter won’t love you so you force him to. 

word count: 3.4k

main masterlist 

Mr. Shum was famous. You, his daughter, were not. This led you to hosting parties at your father’s mansion to up your cool points. It was senior year and, since everyone wanted to party, you were often the one people called. Your father didn’t mind, it only solidified his cover as a gracious and kind businessman. His kind eyes and humor was enough to make a lot of believe it but you knew that you were the only person he was kind to. 

You’d seen enough severed limbs to know that was true. 

Brad had set the entire thing up and all you had to do was order your servants to get things in order. Peter was coming tonight and you’d finally get the chance to properly thank him for saving your life a few months ago. Maybe you’d even confess your feelings and the life you always dreamed of would start tonight. 

Maybe you’d start with like instead of love. You loved him but maybe telling him that would scare him away. You didn’t want him to run from you. 

You had known Peter since fifth grade but he still felt out of touch with him. You were never more than friends. Not even close friends, practically acquaintances. That was going to change. 

The dress you were wearing was completely out of your comfort zone but you did your best to dress like the other girls did at your school. It was a silver body con dress that gripped your curves and highlighted features that you didn’t even know you had. When Brad saw you, his mouth was completely agape, “Woah, you look great!” Your mouth began to tug into a smile but, before you knew it, he was shoving a large paper bag into your hands, “Put this in the punch, will you?”

You looked down to see several bottles of vodka, “Is that safe?” You asked, your tone worried. 

“Yeah, of course,” Brad insisted, starting to walk away, “This is going to be amazing, Y/N!”

You sighed walking over to the refreshments table. People were already starting to show up and soon the entire senior class would be there. You twisted open the bottles and poured them to the glass bowl. It wasn’t long before kids were shoving their red cups into the mixture. 

After you were done, you simply dusted your hands together and went to look for your spider darling. Your giant living room flashed with multicolored lights as a song by a rapper you didn’t know played loudly over everyone’s shouting. Like instinct, you could sense where he was. You found him slouched against a white pillar, sipping at a red solo cup. 

He was wearing one of his nice button ups and a pair of jeans. Oh god, you loved the color blue on him. Any color looked good on him actually, “Hi, Peter,” You smiled, tapping his shoulder. He seemed to be distracted but you blamed it on the alcohol, “Enjoying the party?”

As his head turned and those brown eyes looked into yours, your heart melted, “Y-Yeah,” He stuttered awkwardly, leaning his hand against the pillar, “Your house i-is beautiful … nice decor.”

“You think so?” You tried not to seem eager as you imagined Peter coming over all of the time. After school to study … maybe the two of you taking a dip into the pool. You imagined that his body was heavenly. Sculpted by a God-

“Yeah, it’s great,” Peter grinned. He grinned at you, “Y-You look nice. I’ve never seen you dress like that.” Did he think you were cute or was he trying to spare your feelings? Did he prefer how you normally dressed? You were overthinking. 

“I’m trying something new. You look nice too,” Peter nodded his thanks, “You’re drinking?” You gestured to his cup. 

“Nope, sprite,” Peter said, “May would kill me and I have to make sure Ned gets home in one piece. I don’t know if alcohol is really my thing…”

Did he look down on you because you were throwing a party that was serving alcohol? Did he look down on you because you were drinking? You held your cup close to your side as you said, “Me too. I mean, I don’t really get the people who can only have fun when they’re drunk …” You were sure your conversation wasn’t going well but Peter still seemed to be receptive to you. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe he did have feelings for you, “So, we’ve missed you at Academic Bowl.”

“I’ve missed you guys too,” Peter said, causing your cheeks to heat. You knew he was referring to everyone in Academic Bowl but you couldn’t help but take it personally, “I wish I had the time. This moment right here is the only freedom I’ve had in like six months.”

“And you’re spending it caring for a drunk Ned?” You raised an eyebrow. 

Peter shrugged, chuckling, “Well, when you say it like that it sounds crazy,” You loved his laugh. You loved how he nervously tucked his hand into his front pocket. 

“Peter, I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while,” He perked up and looked at you attentively like he actually cared. You played with the ends of your dress nervously, looking down a bit as you decided to finally let your feelings go, “That day on the bridge when our bus was about to go over the edge … I never knew real fear until then. I thought I’d experienced all the trauma in the world but nothing could compare to that a-and you save me. I’ve never really met someone who’s cared for other people so much … It made me start thinking,like  actually thinking about things and-”

As you looked up, you noticed he was looking past you. He had completely tuned out of your speech, and as you turned your head, you got a glimpse of what he was looking at. MJ was standing by the mantle of the fireplace, talking to some girl. 

You couldn’t breathe. Your heart was shattering. Peter reached out to grab your shoulder, “I’m so sorry. Keep going, please.”

You shook your head, a fake smile on your lips, “It’s fine. I have to do something. Thanks for coming!” You scurried off before he could utter another world. The moment you turned back, he was already gone and walking over to MJ. 

You crushed your cup, causing the liquid to spill out. 

You could kill MJ. She already broke Peter’s heart so why was he running back to her? Why couldn’t she let you have him? Why was everyone so hell-bent on destroying your happiness? Your thoughts were overwhelming and the only thing that seemed to keep them at bay was Brad’s special punch. 

+

You tossed your cup down, watching it fall three stories to the ground. Looking over, you wondered if you could survive the drop. As you lost your balance for a moment, you pressed your back against the roof, giggling. Your world was spinning so much. 

It was a wonder that you hadn’t fallen off from climbing up here in the first place. You took a deep breath and pulled out your phone. You scrolled through your contacts, your vision blurry, before recognizing the heart emojis attached to his name. 

You closed your eyes for a moment as you pressed the phone to your ear. You guessed he was in the middle of a conversation, the hint of laughter and joy in his voice, “Y/N? You’re calling me from your own party?”

His voice only reminded you of why you loved him in the first place. You hated the control he had over your every emotion. You hated how you craved him and he remained oblivious to it.

“I didn’t … I didn’t want to throw the party. I just wanted to see you. I wanted you to see me in this dress,” Your voice was solemn as you slurred into the phone. 

“I got that you had to tell me something but then you stormed off … You sound very drunk. Where are you exactly?”

You shook your head as if Peter could see you right now. You opened your eyes and the night sky was above you, “I try so hard … nothing ever works out the way I want.”

“You try so hard to do what? Where are you, Y/N?” You could hear him moving around, his feet shuffling, and the murmur of Pop music. 

You looked around, “On the roof … I needed fresh air.”

“On the roof? And you’re drunk?”

“I think …” Your voice trailed off, “I just wanted to tell you that I’m over everything. I was being crazy. I get so attached sometimes even though it hurts me-”

“Please don’t move, Y/N,  I’m going to help you down,” You sat up from your position which only made your head spin more. 

“Peter, just listen to me! You never listen to me,” You pouted, “You never see me. I have to accept that it’s never going to change. You’re gonna chase the girls who break your heart, not the ones willing to love you …. Peter? Peter?” You heard nothing from the other side. 

Before you even had time to be disappointed, Peter’s head peeked over the side of the roof, “How did you even get up here?” Peter groaned, lifting himself up. He was still a good twenty feet away from where you had wandered on the slanted roof. 

Peter actually came. He cared enough to talk to you in person. You’d been wrong about him. It caused you to grin but Peter’s face only held worry. Peter began to slide towards you, even taking a second to look over and see how far the drop was, “Give me your hand,” He ordered you as he moved closer. 

You proceeded to pull your feet from over the edge and try to stand up, “Just let me tell you how I feel-”

“Y/N,” He whisper shouted your name, attempting to not frazzle you, “Sit back down, please.”

“If I don’t tell you now then I’ll never get the chance!” You slurred, trying not to stumble.

“You’re going to kill yourself, please sit back down,” Peter said back, every step closer only caused you to step back. Peter stopped, subtly trying to equip his web-shooters.

“It doesn’t matter! I don’t want to live in a world where you’re not mine-” A shriek left your lips as you finally stepped the wrong way and you fell over the edge. You waited for the impact but the jolt you felt was not from the pavement. You were spinning and, as you looked up, a web was connecting you to Peter. 

Peter let out a heavy sigh as he pulled you up. He carried you back to the balcony. The two of you didn’t stay upright for long because your knees gave out and Peter caught you with his arms. He softly brought you to the ground and you stared up into those brown eyes with admiration. 

He saved you. 

You reached up to touch his cheek, “Y-You love me?”

“Jesus,” Peter shook his head, “What?”

Suddenly, you were sober. 

You noticed a crowd had gathered around the two of you. You looked like a disaster, your dress riding high, and your mascara running down your face. Peter pulled your hand away, an exhausted look on his face. He stood up before saying, “Can someone get her some water? And find her somewhere to sleep?” That was all he said before he left the balcony. 

This was different than any other rejection you had ever felt. 

+

“Darling, it’s the ninth day you haven’t gone to school.”

You didn’t look up from your desk as your father entered your room. You were still typing at your computer, writing a scientific article for your organic chemistry class. You were still typing away as you felt a hand on your shoulder. It caused you to pause as your lips pressed into a thin line. 

“I’m getting my work done,” You said to him, still not willing to look at him. You weren’t going to school and you were using your work to distract you from the fact that you asked Peter Parker if he loved you in front of a bunch of people. Not to mention that you drunkenly fell off your own roof. 

Peter hadn’t attempted to contact you, and judging by the talk you heard online, you were officially psychotic in everyone’s minds. 

Your father set a white box on your desk and you immediately recognized the log. DONATELLI”S PASTRIES. You opened the box to find your favorite, a red velvet cupcake, “Thank you,” You said, your mood threatening to improve. 

Your father sure did know how to buy your affection. 

He sighed before saying, “I hate to see that boy breaking my little girl’s heart. First, he threatens my business, a goddamn child is getting my partners arrested, and now this. I preferred it when he was fighting aliens.”

Your fist clenched tightly as you listened, “Superheros think they can do whatever they want.”

Your father agreed, “I really came in here to propose an idea to you,” You perked up at that, “What if I told you I could take care of your spider-boy problem?”

“How?”

“It’s a matter of keeping him distracted long enough to strike. Putting civilian lives on the line seems to do it for him. Besides that, I’ve come into a very valuable resource that will keep him sedated long enough to toss him into the Hudson and makes sure he sinks to the bottom.”

You thought for a long moment, “I don’t want you to kill him, Dad.”

Your father cocked his head to the side, his eyebrow raised, “You know you collect things … Mr. Medina’s left pinky … that police officer’s badge,” Your father was well aware of what he did with his enemies but he had not expected his daughter to take after him, “I want to add him to my collection.”

“I see,” Your father nodded, “Then it’s done. Anything for my little girl.”

A spider for your collection. 

You smiled wickedly. 

+

It was a screaming bus of children. That’s what landed Spiderman in the clutches of Mr. Shum. Luckily, they had survived but Peter wasn’t sure if he would. His face was dripping with blood and the bullet wound to his abdomen didn’t look to be healing anytime soon. 

Peter hung from the ceiling by his wrist, the chains he suspected were made of vibranium or at least a knock off version of it. His spidey sense was completely off and his swollen eyes didn’t even allow him to see the punches as they came. 

Peter fought as hard as he could but the darkness eventually consumed him. 

He awoke to the feeling of warmth being pressed to his skin. As his eyes slowly opened, he found a smiling you hovering over you. Immediately Peter jolted up but was pulled back by chains attached to the bedpost. As he attempted to move his legs, he felt the same thing. 

You shushed him, “Hey, calm down, you’re going to tear your stitches,” You whispered, dabbing the wet cloth against his face. Peter flinched at your touch but you kept it up. You were straddling his waist and as Peter looked down he realized he was completely naked, “I didn’t think you’d wake up so soon-”

“Y/N, what the hell is going on?” Peter’s voice was tired, desperate, his face starting to turn red, “Where are my clothes?”

“I had to give you a bath, it’s been days since you passed out,” You told him and it frightened Peter how calm you were, “I’m not like my father, I’m going to take care of you. He just had to show you what would happen if you tried to hurt me.”

Peter watched as you hinted at his bandaged abdomen, “Why? Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you,” You grinned, running your hands over his muscular chest. You assumed right. His body was completely perfect and now it was all yours.

“Don’t say that,” Peter winced.

You leaned down closer to his face, “I’ve loved you for a long time, Peter.”

“Don’t say that!” Peter started pulling at the chain again which only led you to press your fingers, hard into the bandage on his abdomen. The boy cried out in pain and it broke your heart. 

“Why don’t you love me too?” You asked, starting to grow frustrated, “I love you so much but you don’t even care! Why can’t you just love me back?”

“Because that’s crazy!” He shouted back, “We’re only friends and kidnapping me is not going to change that!”

“Kidnap?” You questioned, shaking your hand, “You are my one and only love, Peter. How can it be kidnapping if I must be with you? If I must have you as my soulmate?”

“Y/N, please. My family and this city needs me-”

“And MJ needs you?” You pressed your hand against his chest, staring him down, “Huh? The girl who rejects you and yet you chase her while I’m here willing to love you. If only you loved me back-”

“Y/N,” Peter tried to calm himself and ration with you, “If you just let me go, we could make this work. You’re right, I’ve been blind. I’ve been chasing MJ when I should’ve been chasing you.”

Your shoulders slumped and your eyes seemed to lighten as you heard his words, “You mean it?” 

Peter nodded eagerly, “Y-Yes, and we could go on a date together. We could get to know each other more,” You were nodding now, the idea of it sounding completely magical. This was all you ever wanted, “If you undo the chains, we could do that.”

Your mouth quickly turned to a frown and you sighed. Peter watched as you went still, “I can’t risk it. You’ve shown me time and time again that you don’t know what’s good for you,” Peter shook his head, the fear starting to settle in as your hands rubbed up and down his chest. Peter continued to flinch as they moved lower, towards the area between his legs, “You’ll have to learn to love me, Peter.”

“S-Stop,” Peter begged as you finger traced along his length. Like the teenage boy you knew he was, he easily started to grow hard beneath your grasp. 

“I’m not one of those girls who thinks you should save your virginity for marriage. I think you should wait until you meet the right person,” You palmed his cock in your hand, feeling it getting harder. You watched as he pulled at his chains and his face contorted into different expressions of disgust and desperation, “And you’re my person, Peter.”

You licked your palm, lubricating it before placing it back on his cock. You pulled and tugged, pumping up and down. You smirked as moans threatened to escape those pink lips. You leaned down and, as Peter turned his head, you placed kisses along his jaw. 

“Y/N, please…” He begged. 

“Please keep going? Please show your love for me by milking me dry?” He shook his head and you grinned, “My hearts been a toy for you all these years, perhaps now you'll understand what it is to be someone’s toy.”

You moved down Peter’s body, planting kisses and hickies before your mouth reached the member between his legs. Peter lifted his head, watching, “Okay, okay, I understand! Don’t please!” You felt his legs thrash as your tongue licked his pink tip. 

You held onto his muscular legs as your tongue swirled around his tip. Peter’s head flew back in ecstasy as you took him further into your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down, your tongue still swirling. 

His deep groans effectively soaked the area between your legs and you loved how they turned to whimpering and pleading. Peter lasted longer than you expected but it wasn't long before his body contorted and warm liquid sprayed down your throat and into your mouth. As you removed your mouth, you continued to pump his softening cock which caused him to thrash around even more from the over stimulation.

You swallowed what was left in his mouth and began to kiss up his body. His eyes gave a look of defeat, “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell you how much you liked it,” You said as you kissed his neck, “Baby steps, right?”

You laid down beside him, basking in his warmth. Now you weren’t just the awkward daughter of the famous Mr. Shum. You loved somebody and that somebody was going to love you. 

You deserved that love.

+

hope you enjoyed this!

[drspencerweed]

Can i plz have a concept for Spencer being a badboy outside of work? take it however you feel

okay im gonna take this and kind of make it a joke? I don’t think Spencer could truly be a “bad boy” but i think he would try if he thought it would impress you. also for the record I view this as like season 2/3 spence i think? maybe season 7 too but I think earlier 

this got away from me its a little over 1k so i put it behind a read more :)

----

He caught himself in the mirror one more time, and tried smoothing out the lines that had creased in his white t-shirt. He shook out his arms and tried to get comfortable once again, knowing the look didn’t fully suit him. At least, he didn’t think so. Penelope had reassured him a thousand times that he looked cute, and that she was proud of him for stepping outside his comfort zone. She had nearly squealed when he told her she was looking for a leather jacket and jeans, so excited she didn’t even question his motives. 

The motive, of course, was you. He had overheard you telling Morgan in the break room all about how you always went for the bad boys, the greaser types, the ones who looked like they jumped into action instead of away from it. Basically all the things Spencer was not. And Spencer had been a few days away from working up the courage to ask you out, but with that one conversation his confidence was crushed. 

So now, he was trying a new outfit. Maybe this would get you to turn your head in his direction. He would never wear this to work, of course, but the team was meeting up to get drinks. He was hoping to surprise you with the new look. The attitude was something he hadn’t quite nailed yet, but hopefully a leather jacket would be enough. 

After staring at himself for far too long, he left his apartment and made his way to the bar. It was only a few blocks away, and he was uncharacteristically late. The whole team was there when he walked in. 

Derek let out a wolf whistle as soon as he saw him, and Penelope grinned and waved him over to their table. The rest of the team were whispering about his appearance, but he only had eyes for you. 

You looked shocked, mouth hanging slightly open and giving him a blatant once over. Once you reached his face again and met his eyes, you quickly tried to school your expression into something more neutral. But Spencer had already seen, you had noticed. You had noticed him. He smiled at you as he slipped onto the chair in between you and Penelope. 

“What’s with the outfit, Pretty Boy?” Derek asked, nudging a glass of coke towards Spencer that he had ordered on his behalf. 

Spencer shrugged. “Thought I needed a change.” You still hadn’t said anything, instead turning your attention to your drink. The night continued on like that, you and Spencer pressed together at the table but not really acknowledging each other. At some point, you left the table to go get another round, and Derek jumped on Spencer. 

“Needed a change? And this has nothing to do with the fact that [Y/N] told me just the other day that she’s into ‘bad boys?’” Derek teased. Spencer spluttered the sip of his drink and tried to deny it, but Penelope went faster. 

“That’s why you asked for this? I thought you wanted a makeover!” She sounded incredibly disappointed. 

“I-I just- I wanted her to notice me.” Spencer admitted quietly. 

Derek shook his head. “You don’t have to worry about that.” 

“I don’t?” 

You returned before Derek could answer, and the night went on. Spencer was the only one in the group who was sober, and towards the end of the night you started to get tipsy, and leaning on him. He could barely contain his blush as you gripped his arm and tried to use it as a pillow. 

“Are you going to sleep right here?” He asked, and you just nodded against his arm. 

“Sleepy.” You mumbled, cuddling up to him farther. He looked around and everyone else was still partying, but he was about ready to call it a night anyway and you seemed like you agreed. 

“I’m going to get her a cab and then head home.” Spencer said to the table. Everyone said their goodbyes and he guided you away from the table and out of the bar. You weren’t very drunk, just a little tipsy and very tired. After you ordered an Uber, you turned and leaned your face into his chest. Shocked, his arms wrapped around your body and held you there. 

Your arms eventually came up and wrapped around his waist, and then he felt vibrations against his chest as you said something he couldn’t make out. 

“What was that?” 

“I just said, I always thought I had a type until you. And now you fit that type. And my brain is confused.” You still mumbled, but you pulled away so your cheek was against his face and your words could hit his ears. 

“You thought....what? What would I have to do with you having a type?” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be a genius?” You teased, gripping him tighter. 

The only answer would be that you liked him. And that just didn’t make sense, you barely gave him the time of day. Always stuttering and leaving whenever he came around. He didn’t reply for too long, and you spoke up again. 

“I like you Spencer, I like you a lot. And this leather jacket looks really hot on you, but so do all your sweater vests, and I don’t actually think you did this for me because why would you care what I think, but I was so conflicted because you look so hot but you don’t look like you and I like you, Spencer!” You said, almost exasperatedly. 

“You think I’m hot?” He asked, shocked. You pulled back a bit so you could look him in the eye. 

“Have you looked in a mirror lately?” You smirked. Spencer flushed and stuttered, but you kept talking before he had a chance to deny the compliment. “Is that all you got from that speech?” You asked, a little shy. 

Before he could answer, a car pulled up to the curb, and you pulled away completely to look at your phone. “That’s my ride.” You said, dejectedly. “We can just- forget this ever happened, I guess. I’m sorry. I know you don’t like me back and-”

“Would you like to see a movie with me? Tomorrow? As a date?” He blurted out. Your face brightened immediately, nodding quickly. 

“I would love that.” You said, and he smiled, scratching the back of his neck. 

“I’ll pick you up at seven?” 

“Wear your purple cardigan.” You answered, and then slipped into the car with one last smile in his direction. 

[classicbarbie]

Princess Charm School MUN

Okay, I did model UN for 6-ish years?? So I HAVE to go all out on that Princess Charm School Model UN au.

Listen. Delancey would apply for Security Council every conference. She’d want the superpower delegation and Dame Devin would want her to be a superpower delegation. 

Blair would go for either GA3 or the Human Rights Committees, but Miss Privet would put her in SC to make her step out of her comfort zone~ and all. 

I know that Delancey and Blair became friends at the end, but imagine they were still rivals. 

Okay, now imagine Miss Privet making them a double delegation together!! Chaos!!

Hadley is definitely an ECOSOC person, no hate but it’s the most boring committee, I’m sorry. If she’s lucky the agenda might be about sports.

I can see Portia joining the Environmental Commission and absolutely destroying it. In the best way. 

I once went to a conference where the EC apparently debated over the ethics of android babies and I’m sure she’d love that.

Isla’s a wild card. I think she’d unexpectedly enjoy the topics in the Disarmament Commission or GA1, but she switches around. My bet is she prefers being admin or press, working behind the scenes ya know. She just doesn’t like the heavy debate so she might even prefer chairing if she can.

I don’t even have to mention the MUN fashion, all the girls would look STUNNING.

Portia comes in wearing 6-inch heels and takes them off 10 minutes in. She spends the rest of the conference walking around barefoot.

Blair is the resident band-aid bringer for the blisters.

Hadley gets called out for not following the dress code. It’s because she’s wearing sneakers.

Delancy in a suit. That’s it.

The actual debate.

Delancey

Delancey is a power delegate. Doesn’t matter if she’s a superpower delegation or not, she still acts it. 

Mad debate skills. Has made several delegates cry.

She submits the longest amendments for her own resolution, no one knows how she types them out so quickly.

If she’s a P5, you can bet she’s practically exploiting the veto power.

She is feared, admired, and despised all at once.

Just kidding. No one likes a veto power exploiter Delancey, baby.

Says ‘present and voting’ during role call to assert dominance.

I already said this, but she bashes every resolution that isn’t hers.

Definitely ripped someone (Blair’s) resolution at the podium.

Always tries to motion follow-up and right to reply but gets denied by the chair.

Will call a motion to divide the house if she feels threatened.

Blair

Blair turns up over-prepared.

“Yeah, I just wrote a couple clauses, it’s not that good, I didn’t do a lot of research.” *pulls out a 6 page resolution*

She lobbys with the shyer delegates - she’s not here to win Best Delegate.

Probably wins best delegate anyways.

The chair appreciates her constructive arguments and amendments.

Hadley

Hadley starts creating problems on purpose just because she’s bored. Being in ECOSOC will not stop her from declaring ww3. 

The delegates are always calling points of personal privilege due to over-audibility when she starts talking into the mic.

Yes, she’s a speech screamer.

“Is the delegate open to any POIs?” “No.”

The person who shouts “motion to move to the previous question” every 10 minutes.

Loves being DPRK and plays the role to a T.

She would LOVE a crisis event.

Here for the socialising and real-life tinder, not the debate.

Wins the most likely to go to jail award and the most likely to start ww3 award.

Isla

If Isla’s an admin, she’s THAT admin everyone is crushing on.

They specifically call her over to pass notes but the note is for her.

She wins the cutest delegate award. Half the confession box notes are about her.

Answers with “the delegate will reply in note form” and actually does it.

She definitely gives me more student officer kinda vibes though. Like she’d be more interested in the outcome of the conference and the actual topics than the debating.

I’d even go as far as to say Secretary General Isla.

Delancey would be jealous but deep down she knows she loves the debate more.

Portia

Portia...

Where do I even start.

The chair, in tears: “Delegate, please refrain from using personal pronouns.”

You can convince her to become a signatory to your resolution for a bagel.

Has a clause about raising awareness that fills half the page.

Pronounces DR Congo as ‘doctor congo’

Look, she’d have the most absurd solutions but they would all also work?

Forgets her placard at the podium.

Asks POIs that have no relevance to the speech.

Probably thinks that the delegates are actually from the country they’re delegating.

Wins best hair.

[thedumpsterqueen]

Standards of Performance, Chapter 9: Hesitancy

From the Beginning,  Previous Chapter

AO3 Link

Changing the chapter naming scheme; my brain can't handle two-word summaries anymore. This one is a lil short but very soft and I promise relationship progress is made. As always, I hope you love it. <3

Summary: You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter Summary:  “Are you prepared for this to go south?” he asked, eyes boring into yours.

“Why would it?”

Words: 1962

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Warnings on AO3.

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

There was no way in hell you could go into work today.

You didn’t actually have a choice, which is why you’d driven there. But you simply couldn’t command your feet to walk you into that office, towards the teams’ inquisitive stares and deductive skills that were closer to mind-reading than you were entirely comfortable with. You’d adjusted and re-adjusted your lipgloss several times over in the mirror, brushed through your hair, and even though you knew there was no way the team could know what happened 20 minutes ago in the park, you felt like you might as well have been wearing a neon sign that said “Aaron Hotchner and I Just Kissed (On the Lips).”

So you were holed up in the parking garage of the FBI in your piece of shit 2007 Toyota Camry. Stalling.

You sighed when you felt your phone buzz, knowing what the notification was. You were only seven minutes late, but seven minutes was eight too many in Hotch’s book. You checked the message.

Hotch: Please come inside.

So he knew you were hiding out, then. You sighed and slammed the car door, trudging up the stairwell and into the building.

Exiting the elevator to your floor, you paused outside of the frosted glass doors leading to the BAU and tried to still your breathing. Despite Hotch’s apparent instant regret and quick departure occupying the forefront of your mind, you still couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect that kiss had been. The part of you that wasn’t filled with panic about his reaction was squealing like a little kid at the confirmation that holy shit, he liked you too. You took a deep breath, summoned every ounce of professionalism and composure you could muster, and walked in.

You made it less than halfway to your desk.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa; don’t just walk in here like I’m gonna let that slide.” Morgan swung his legs off his desk and stood up in front of you. “Every day you get in at least ten minutes early and now you’re walking in late looking like you got something to hide. Spill it.”

Your open-mouthed gaping by way of response was blissfully interrupted by Hotch calling your name from the balcony overlooking the bullpen.

“Garcia needs your help finishing up reports. Meet her in her office.”

You shrugged to Morgan. “Duty calls. Sorry!”

“Don’t think you’re getting off that easy!” he called after you as you scampered towards the safety of Garcia’s tech lair.

You knocked on her door, and she greeted you with her standard excess of enthusiasm.

“Come in! I’m just going through my keylogs for the past few cases and filling out reports of every database I had to access less-than-legally.” She shot you an evil grin. “Which is a lot. You can help me by typing up the information into the actual reports on your computer.”

Just happy to be away from the teams’ prying eyes, especially a certain someone’s, you nodded. “Let’s do it.”

***

Not half an hour had passed when Garcia swiveled towards you in her chair, clutching her pink feathered pen with a knowing glint in her eyes. “So. Tell me.”

“What?” you asked, trying to hide your shock with feigned innocence.

“Oh, honey, come on. I may not be a profiler, but I’ve picked up a couple things throughout the years. And I can tell something’s up.”

“God damn it,” you groaned and laid back in your chair. “I thought this was a no-profiling zone.”

She smiled even wider, if that was possible. “It is. But for you, my dear, I have made an exception.”

“Did Morgan put you up to this?”

“He may have possibly texted me telling me that you were late this morning.”

You rolled your eyes.

“But you’re never late! Even I know that! So -” she scooted closer and lowered her voice conspiratorially, “- spill.”

Sighing, you weighed your options. The last thing you wanted to do was create drama and jeopardize your position, much less Hotch’s reputation, but you were itching to tell someone - if only to get their opinion on the matter. And it wasn’t as if you had anyone else to talk to…

“Fine!”

Garcia rapidly motioned her hands to signify you to continue.

“But you can’t tell anybody, okay? I’m serious, Penelope.”

“Not even-”

“Especially not Morgan.”

She pouted but reluctantly agreed, and you took a deep breath and told her everything.

How you’d developed an innocent crush at first, how it had spiraled out of control, how you’d visited his apartment and he’d told you about his past, and finally, how he’d kissed you in the park just that morning. You stopped, awaiting her reaction, but she was uncharacteristically silent.

“...Garcia?”

She cleared her throat and leaned forward. “I’m sorry, are we talking about Aaron Hotchner, like Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner, like boss man Aaron Hotchner? Mr. Grumpy? Never smiles, always wears a suit, carries the weight of the world on his sculpted shoulders?”

You glared, waiting for her to finish.

“I’m sorry,” she giggled, “It’s just -” her voice softened, “- in the whole time I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him act like that. Bring someone coffee, breakfast, open up to them. The whole bit.”

Your heart fluttered more than you’d like to admit at that.

“Listen,” she continued, “I don’t have to tell you that life has not been kind to that man. And I’m not gonna give you the stupid speech about dating an older man or dating your boss, because I don’t give a shit. But I will tell you - he’s been through enough. So if this isn’t what you want, back out now.”

Her tone was kind, but the seriousness of her message was evident. You nodded in understanding.

“I get it, but I don’t think he’s the one that’s gonna end up getting hurt here.”

“Well, hopefully nobody will get hurt and you’ll both ride off into the sunset together. But you gotta talk to him first.” She ignored your pained groan. “I’m serious! Nothing good is going to come out of you guys dancing around this. People act really stupid when they’re pretending they’re not in love with each other.”

Cocking your eyebrow, you shot back, “Kinda like you and Morgan?”

She flushed scarlet and waggled her ostentatious pen in your direction. “Touché.”

***

The thought of being emotionally vulnerable to Hotch made you more nauseous than you’d like to admit, but the more you mulled over it, the more you realized Garcia was right. Hotch knew how you felt - your fervent response to the kiss had made that abundantly clear - so what did you have to lose, really?

(Besides your career and the respect of your boss, but you tried not to consider that possibility).

He’d kissed you, you reminded yourself as you tried to focus on reports.

He cares about you, you recited like a mantra as you waited for the workday to end.

He’s twice your age and a widower with a dead kid and your Unit Chief, you panicked in the bathroom as you avoided the knowing eyes of the rest of the team.

Still, 6 pm limped in eventually and you bid everyone a good night from your desk as they filtered out. Hotch, unsurprisingly, was not among them. You planned to wait until you two were alone in the office so you could approach him undisturbed.

What you didn’t expect was just how late he worked - it was nearly 9 by the time he locked up his office, briefcase in hand, and turned to see you still sitting at your desk.

“Oh,” he said. You tried to decipher the tone of the syllable - surprised? Pleased? Indifferent? But came up short.

“I thought we could talk,” you offer cautiously.

“About wha-” he began, then seemed to think better of pretending he didn’t know and sighed. “You’re right. We should.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it. “I wanted to apologize for my actions this morning. I took advantage of a situation where you felt comfortable spending time with me outside of the office, and I should have never let it get that far. If you want to speak to Strauss about transferring units, I completely understand.”

You gaped at him. Was it truly possible for a man this astute, this in-tune with human behavior, to be this stupid?  

“Is that what you think this is?” you asked, practically launching yourself out of your seat from the sheer force of your bewilderment. “You think you took advantage of me? That I just went along with it because you’re my boss or something?”

The barely concealed shame in his eyes answered not only that question, but also the one you’d asked yourself beforehand - no, Hotch wasn’t stupid. He was broken. He was filled with so much self-hatred that the only explanation he could concoct as to why you were spending so much time with him was the one where you were trying to avoid offending your creepy, older boss. The realization filled you with such heartbreak that you nearly choked on your next words.

“Aaron,” you started, and it was strange how well a name you’d never before dared to say fit in your mouth, “I’ve -”

Don’t say loved.

“- liked you since that case in San Diego. I don’t know how you haven’t figured that out, considering the fact that I wake up an hour early every morning - I hate mornings, by the way - to get coffee with you. But I like you. And I know for a fact you feel the same way, so don’t try to pretend like you did after the bar.”

The number of times Hotch had been rendered speechless in his lifetime could be counted on one hand, and this made the list. You waited for him to respond, and he did, finally, in the most muted voice you’d ever heard him use.

“It isn’t right.”

“Please,” you implored, taking a step closer to him. “Don’t do that. You’re not going to talk me out of this, and I’d appreciate it if you’d stop trying to talk yourself out of it too.”

“I’m your Unit Chief,” he said, his voice regaining the power that usually accompanied that statement, “and I’m old enough to be your father.”

“And I’m an adult fully capable of making her own decisions,” you responded.

“The practicalities; they’d be a mess. Informing the Bureau, the team…”

“Would I have to quit my internship?” you asked, your only genuine hesitancy surrounding the situation.

“Well, no,” he shook his head slowly, “but we'd be subject to a much higher level of scrutiny.”

“I’m prepared to be scrutinized.”

“Are you prepared for this to go south?” he asked, eyes boring into yours.

“Why would it?”

He didn’t say anything, but you could tell what he was thinking. A man like him, someone who carried more than a few lifetimes of trauma and guilt, wasn’t someone to get involved with on a whim - for both of your sakes. This was more so the concern, you suspected, than anything he’d already mentioned.

“I know what I’m getting into, Hotch. I’m not expecting this to be easy.”

“Well, I -” he shifted uncomfortably, more visibly nervous than you’d ever seen him. “Can I least give you time to think about it?”

“Doubt I’ll be able to think about anything else,” you teased, and, with a sudden surge of courage, you stepped forward on your tiptoes to plant a feather-light kiss on his cheek.

The flush that spread up his neck was, decidedly, the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

Taglist: @stop-drop-and-drumroll @criminalmindzjunkie @xoprincessmel @cevanswhre @addie5264 (Message me if you want to be added!)

[heyheydidjaknow]

Okay, so the official update deadline for me is now every Sunday before I sleep. This is the second part. If the formatting is off, I apologize. Also, if you want to read the first bit, the link’s at the bottom. And the third one. I know there’s a way to make it so that touching on underlined text or something links you to the link, but I dunno how to do that.

Chapter 2

Surprisingly enough, the easiest one to convince of your legitimacy is Hamato Yoshi.

As soon as you walk into the lair, all you have to say to Ratman is that his daughter “was” named Miwa (obviously, dropping a bombshell like, “Your daughter is alive,” is somewhat bad form) and that he was going to give her a fan/knife thing, and he is convinced. Maybe it is to do with his natural compassion and/or naivety, but it allows you the option to sleep on the couch and not have to wander around to find exactly where the hell that address is.

You pull your knees to your chest as you stare blankly at the dead television screen, mind wandering as you listen to the accumulative sounds of the others. You are used to being awake at ungodly hours, of course, but typically they are spent alone; this is an uncommon occurrence. Now, anyways, you wish you had a way of contacting people. You already feel homesickness writhe around in your stomach, and your dread for what is going to happen next is outmatched by your gnawing curiosity regarding the fate of your family in the fire. Of course, you know their chances for survival was close to none, but—

“Y/N?”

You almost jump out of your skin, having not noticed the sinking of the couch next to you. You look over at the speaker, relaxing slightly. You put your hand on your chest. “Sorry,” you breath to Donatello as you try to calm your beating heart. “I uh, kinda zoned out.”

“It’s alright.” His posture is awfully stiff. “I just figured—ya know, since we’re going to be interacting more—we should uh, get to know each other a bit.”

You nod as you stretch your legs back out. “Sounds like a plan.” You turn your body to face him, shaking a little from the start but getting over it relatively quickly. “Oh, by the by, you’re the one that can kill me with your bare hands. You can and should relax.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Was it that obvious?”

“A little,” you shrug. “But, in your defense,” you smile playfully, “if some random bitch walked up to me and started telling me every detail of my past, I’d be hesitant to get too friendly too.”

“Oh, it’s not that!” He put his hands up, talking oddly quickly. “It’s just that you’re the first human I’ve ever met, and really the only person I’ve ever really talked to that isn’t one of my brothers or Splinter—”

A memory slaps you across the face. “Oh! Right!” You grab his hands, making sure his full attention was on you. “I gotta tell you something really important.”

He went red. “W-what?”

“I don’t think it’s wise to tell you outright exactly what’s going to happen,” you start, impulsively running your thumb over one of his knuckles, “but if you run into a triceratops man, or if you hear about a triceratops man, you have to kill him immediately.”

“I- huh?”

“Three or so episodes before the season three finale,” you repeat, “you or someone else is going to run into a triceratops man, who you have to kill. If you let him live, the world as you know it will be destroyed and sucked into a black hole.”

“Black hole?” He blinks. “So, in a few months, we—what?”

“Well, they call it a black hole, anyways.” You roll your eyes. “It’s pretty weak sauce for a black hole. I’d hasten to call it more than a portal, but, I guess, technically, it’s a black hole.”

“You seem to know quite a bit about this sort of thing.” He smiles awkwardly. “You know, for someone who just kinda popped out of the blue.”

“Well, yeah.” You smile back. “People like you inspire me to learn more about how the world around me works.”

His pupils dilate, and he breaks eye contact. “Wait, but you said that we had at least until the season five finale, right?” You feel his thumb wrap around yours slightly. “If that’s the case, how can a black hole destroy our world? We’d die with it, wouldn’t we?”

“See, you would think that.” You shrug, letting his hands fall between you two. “But the show is already playing fast and loose with science in general, so.”

“I am legitimately so confused right now.”

You sigh, patting him on the shoulder. “Me too, buddy.”

“I just—“

“Honey.” You stifle a giggle. “No combination of words will make any of this make any more sense than it already does.”

“I know, but—“

“Listen, if you ask me any more questions, we’ll start having to deal with more time travel bullshit then we’ll already have to.”

He sighs. “Okay, I’m dropping it.”

You nod, already feeling the sting of guilt. “But, hey,” you nudge with your shoulder teasingly, “if it makes you feel any better, you definitely got the most sugar than your brothers.”

He blinks. “What does that have anything to do with that?”

“Compensation? I dunno.” You pull your legs under you. “Just trying to make up for the fact that it’s really not a good idea for me to give out too much info about an uncertain future.”

There is an awkward pause.

“So,” Donatello asks gently, “if you don’t mind me asking, you said you died, right?”

You nod.

“So, uh, how did you…?”

“House fire.”

He blinks. “You… you remember—?”

“Yup.” You chuckle tightly. “Every excruciating detail.”

He tenses slightly. “I’m sorry.”

You sigh. “Don’t be. Not your fault.” ‘My fault, actually.’

He rests his head on his hand. After a pause, “Do you know, then?”

“Know what?”

“You know, what happens after.”

You shake your head. “I blacked out and now I’m here. I’m guessing you don’t run into a ton of people like me.”

He cracks a smile. “I don’t really run into a ton of people period.”

You try to help lighten this stifling mod you have created. “Well, I’m glad your first introduction to humanity proper is through some psycho pseudo-Cassandra.”

“Less Cassandra and more just general prophet.” He grins. “If Raph believes you enough to go off the handle—well, I guess that’s just Raph in general.”

You chuckle. “Hey,” you whine teasingly, “lay off your brother. Obviously he’s a very levelheaded man.”

“Totally.” He rolls his eyes good naturedly. “Cool as a cucumber, that guy.”

“Speaking of, where is everyone?” You look around the noticeably empty living room.

“Sleeping, probably. I tend to stay up later than they do.”

“And why’s that, Bill Nye?”

He shrugs. “It’s easier to work when people aren’t asking for help with things.”

“That is very fair.” You close your eyes as you lean against the back of the couch. “I must say, I’m not envious of your position.”

You hear him shift closer. “Why’s that?”

“If you don’t already, you’re probably—at least, from what I’ve seen,” you clarify. “Well, it seems like, sometimes, you have the world on your shoulders. It can’t be a good feeling.”

A pause. “I guess you could say that, yeah.”

You stretch upwards. “But” you continue, moaning softly as you feel your muscles crack, “if it makes you feel any better, I have—or at least had— access to the internet. I will gladly explain google.”

He clears his throat. “The internet search engine or the number?”

You grin. “Either or, although I would most certainly lose track if my zeros halfway through at best.”

He laughs. “It took me so long to figure out how to say it,” he sighs, “The trick is to just say zero for a long time and eventually just kinda zone out. You can really just stop after fifty and people won’t notice.”

“See,” you open your eyes, wrapping an arm around his shoulder—he certainly stiffened up quick— “that is why I like you, Donnie. You always know the score.”

He relaxes quickly. His speech is slurred a little. “You like me?”

“Hell yeah I do!” Your voice is noticeably lighter than it was before, more relaxed. “You are totally awesome, if you’ll pardon my candor.”

“N-not at all!” He smiled bashfully. “I’m flattered, really. I just—I’m surprised is all. I didn’t think you’d—uh—_like_ someone like me.”

“What? Why?” You are, apparently, extremely dense. “You’re the coolest guy ever!”

“Well, I’m not really a guy.”

“Wait, is this the whole turtle thing again?” You roll your eyes, leaning into him as you close them. “Dude, legitimately? I don’t care.”

His voice softened. “You what?”

“I don’t care. You’re smart, reliable, funny… I mean, what isn’t there to appreciate?” ‘I didn’t expect him to feel warm.’ “If I’m being honest,” you shrug in an attempt to stay casual, “and, if you promise not to give me shit—”

“I won’t,” he promises, almost eagerly.

You smile. “I will admit that I had a thing for you, along with many other people where I’m from. Fictional crush, you know.”

“You’re joking,” he challenges.

“Scout’s honor.” You raise your right hand, already starting to zone out. ‘Really warm…’

“You’re serious?”

You hum in confirmation. “I don’t…” You yawn, the weight of the incredible stress admittedly starting to take its toll. “I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable after what I just said,” you mumble, curling into him, admittedly not in your right mind, “but do you mind staying here until I fall asleep? Sup… surprisingly enough, you are ridiculously warm and comfortable and warm.”

He tenses up a little, but slowly wraps an arm around your shoulder. “Yeah. I’ve got nothing better to do.” His voice is gentle, soft.

“I owe you cupcakes.” You nod off.

--

You could tell you boosted his confidence if only a little bit. He stood taller the next night; admittedly, you feel a sense of pride at his pride. At least, it makes up for the verbal abuse from his brothers when they find you asleep together.

As you walk down the street that next night with Donnie shadowing you, you consider the pros and cons of revealing more about what you know; although there were certainly more items for pro, the chaos theory was sort of a big deal, and, knowing the reputation of this franchise and its post-apocalyptic bullshit, the last thing you need is to tempt fate. Still, something about this felt wrong, like not telling someone to get out of the way of a moving car. ‘Wish I were Cassandra,’ you think bitterly. ‘At least I wouldn’t feel bad.’

You stop in front of the offending building. ‘Finally.’ You look around for your chaperone and, after not seeing him— ‘Fucking ninjas, man.’—sigh and give in. “Good night,” you said to the open air.

You look back at the door, startled to see someone looking back at you. ‘You are fucking with me right now.’ You wave awkwardly as the man holds the door open for you. You step inside the building, making a beeline for the elevator. ‘A doorman? Really?’ The lobby was entirely too hotelish for your liking, the warm lighting bouncing off the smooth tile cleanly. ‘How much is this place, anyways? It’s fucking New York.’ You press one of the buttons. ‘If I’m the one paying rent, I am royally fucked.’

Somehow, via some sort of divine intervention, you find the apartment. You take the key out of your pocket— ‘Note to self: scavenge up enough money for a keychain.’—and stepped inside.

The apartment made you do a double take. It is so… familiar. Nicer than usual, more polished, yet somehow exactly how you’ would have used the space. The floors are hardwood, the walls painted a relatively neutral color that is easy on the eyes. As soon as you enter, you see the kitchen to your left; small, but considering it is only you, it would be perfect. To your left, down a short hall, is a bathroom—bright white surfaces with black countertops. And in the only other room in the apartment, in front of you, is a bed, a couch, some chairs, a table, a chest of drawers, a closet, a television, and a coffee table with a phone and an envelope on it.

You walk over to a large window overlooking the street, shutting it and sitting down on the couch. You pick up the letter first, carefully breaking its seal and pulling out a note and a card. Your heart leaps as you see your name in white lettering. ‘Well, having a credit card doesn’t sound too bad.’ You place it back onto the table as you start reading.

“Dear Y/N L/N:

We understand that the transition between your previous life and this one may be difficult, and we at The TIS are more than happy to provide for you and your needs during this transition period. Your questions are likely numerous. That is the purpose of this document, to address any concerns you may have.

Finances/Personal Belongings: The most noted concern of those just beginning in our program is to do with housing. We understand that it is incredibly important to the mental health of our members to have relatively stable housing, especially considering the strange, new environment they have been thrown into. Your residence is paid for by the TIS. All necessary emergency services (repair costs of any sort, medical bills, phone bills, etc.) and any utilities that may be included in said residence are also covered by this plan. In addition, your TIS assigned debit card will receive a daily balance of $300 (balance will change with inflation), which can be used at your discretion. Your residence has been pre-furnished to what our experts believe to be your taste, and your refrigerator and cupboards are filled with a variety of raw food items. Silverware, crockery and cookware has also been included. You have also been provided with various detergents and whatever hygiene products you used before your transition. These things will be replenished biweekly unless, for whatever reason, you start using different food/hygiene products. In this event, your inventory will be adjusted accordingly.

You are currently in position of one (1) weeks’ worth of clothing, including any undergarments applicable, which includes 7 pairs of pants and 7 shirts taken from your wardrobe, along with any clothing you are currently wearing.

Cell Phone: Your TIS assigned cell phone is, practically speaking, identical to your previous device. Any streaming services you were previously subscribed to, along with any you may decide to subscribe to, are covered by the TIS. Your login information is included with your banking/personal information, all of which is included in this envelope. If you wish to upgrade your phone as the years go by, or if you wish to purchase a second device, these log ins will still be available to you, although you will be required to purchase any additional software/electronics through our website: www.TISShop.org/FU. A charging cord and block are located by your bed. We recommend purchasing a case for your device.

Please note that all websites/services/apps previously available to you are also available via TIS approved electronic devices.

Employment: Employment has not been taken the TIS. We do not offer employment, although minors have been provided with a permit in the event that you chose to enter the workforce. If you choose to enter the workforce, aid will continue to be provided.

Enrollment: All minors are required by the TIS to enroll in their local school. Any documents required are provided in this envelope. If you are currently attending a college/university, or are thinking of enrolling/reenrolling, any credits you have accumulated will be transferred to whatever college/university you choose to attend. If you are currently a minor considering attending college, your funds will be provided by the TIS if applicable.

Identification: Any websites/services/products that are age restricted will be available to you, regardless of age.

Death: We at the TIS assure you that unnatural death, in your current situation, is not a matter that you need concern yourself with. While it is certainly possible to die, it is extremely unlikely, and we have the policy in place in the event of your death.

We at the TIS are aware of your awareness of the place you are now in. We wish to stress the importance consuming any media associated with the world in which you find yourself. If you gain nothing from this letter, please remember that we at the TIS are here for you, if only indirectly.

We wish you luck.”

The letter ends there. You check the envelope to see the other documents listed.

You stand up, picking up your new phone and laying down on the bed. You are left reeling from the little information you have been given. ‘So I was brought here. Well,’ you sigh, closing your eyes, ‘I guess I already knew that, but…’

You start scrolling through your device. Everything is still there, except for your contacts. You try to call what numbers you had memorized; they are apparently invalid.

You curl into a fetal position, clutching onto your jacket. “Well,” you mumble to yourself almost bitterly, “at least I know I won’t starve to death.” You decide against even turning the lights off as you hug yourself tightly. “This,” you decide, “is going to majorly suck.”

You nod off, already dreaming of smoke.

Table Of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

[waitimcomingtoo]

That Should Be Me

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peter hates your boyfriend almost as much as he loves Justin Bieber

Warnings: misogyny, jealously

Masterlist

“Wah.” You mumbled to yourself. Peter pulled himself away from his homework and looked at you. You were tangled in his sheets, makeup free and concentrating hard on your calculus homework.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked with a coy smile. He felt like he could look at you forever. You ran your fingers through your hair and sighed.

“Gravity and my hair are working against me.” You said as hair fell into your eyes to prove you’re point.

“I got you.” Peter chuckled at your drama and got out of his desk chair. He sat next to you on the bed and gathered your hair in his hands. He divided your hair into three parts and braided in neatly. He was careful not to tug too hard or pull any baby hairs. He secured the end with your strawberry patterned scrunchie that he kept around his wrist at all times. He smiled proudly at his work as you reached back to feel the braid. 

“Where did you learn how to braid hair?” You asked with a surprised smile. “And when?”

“May taught me. And I’ve practiced on you before when you’re sleeping.” Peter admitted. “Is that creepy?”

“It’s definitely creepy.” You nodded. “But it’s the sweet kind of creepy, so I’ll allow it.”

“I’m scared to know other things classify as the sweet kind of creepy.” Peter chuckled again, flopping on the bed beside you. You rolled onto your back and curled into Peter’s side. He cooks feel your heartbeat against his ribcage and he prayed you couldn’t feel his.

“Never you mind. Thanks for the braid.” You toyed with your braid, admitting his work.

“Anytime.” Peter smiled at you, feeling his face heat up at his close you were.

“I can’t believe you still carry this around.” You played with the scrunchie at the end of your braid, remembering when you gave it to him freshman year because it clashed with your outfit.

“It’s my good luck charm. I plan on wearing it as I cross the stage at graduation to make my salutatorian speech.” Peter joked just that get a rise out of you.

“Peter Parker, you are not crossing the stage at graduation while wearing a strawberry scrunchie.” You warned him up front. “And you’re brilliant. How come you’re the salutatorian in this scenario? Who’s the valedictorian?”

“You.” Peter said like it were obvious. You couldn’t help but smile as his compliment.

“You gas me up too much.” You nudged his side. “I don’t deserve it.”

“You do deserve it.” Peter replied bashfully. You look at him through your eyelashes, studying his boyish features. You reached over and ran your thumb over his wild eyebrow in your endless attempt to smooth it down.

“You know I love you, don’t you?” You said softly as you looked into his eyes.

“How could I ever forget?” Peter smiled.

You were soulmates. Meant to be. Peter was sure of it. There was just one little problem.

You had a boyfriend.

Harry Osborn, class president of the Midtown Tech Junior class. He was an inch shorter than Peter, so yes, he was a little problem. It was important to Peter that people knew about their height difference.

Harry stole your heart at the sophomore winter formal. Peter had ditched you, much to his dismay, to go fight Adrian Toomes. Harry found you sitting alone on the bleachers and swooped in to save the day. The rest was history.

You’d been with Harry for over a year. It was old news. Nothing new. But everytime Peter saw Harry holding your hand or kissing your cheek, he had one thought:

That should be me

Your relationship with Harry was very different from your relationship with Peter.

“You coming to my game later?” Harry asked as he swiped through Instagram.

“Uh, I actually have plans to study with Peter.” You replied carefully, not wanting to spark his temper.

“Can’t Penis Parker study on his own?” Harry grumbled disdainfully.

“It’s Peter Parker and no, we always study together.” You said through a clenched smile.

“I cannot believe you’re ditching me for that geek. Some girlfriend you are.” Harry looked up from his phone and gave you a look.

“I went to almost all of your games this season, Harry. And not for nothing, you haven’t shown up to a single decathlon debate that I’ve invited you to.” You reminded him as you threw books in your locker.

“Because I have better things to do than watch nerd-palooza.” Harry snorted as if it were offensive you even asked.

“It’d be nice if you supported me.” You said quietly.

“And it’d be nice to have a girlfriend that watched my games instead of studying with the school freak.” Harry shot back.

“He’s not a freak. He’s my friend.” You corrected. “And you know math isn’t my strongest subject. Sorry, but I have to study.”

“Whatever.” Harry grumbled with a roll of his eyes.

“Don’t you have a game next week downtown?” You tried to lighten the mood.

“It’s in two weeks and it’s uptown, stupid.” Harry brought it right back down. “Do you even listen to me?”

“I’m sorry I-“ You began.

“Forget it. I have to go. I told Stacy I’d meet up with her before the game so she could show me the new cheer routine.” Harry said just to spite you.

“You’re hanging out with Stacy again?” You asked without looking at him. “I thought you guys had a nasty breakup?”

“We’re friends now. At least I can talk to her.” Harry shrugged. “Later.”

“Bye.” You said, but he had already walked away.

“Hey, so, I hate him.” Peter stepped in next to you after having witnessed the conversation.

“Join the club.” You laughed sadly.

“I started the club.” Peter insisted and you chuckled.

“Well, he’s not your biggest fan either.” You reminded him with a smile.

“Then why are you still with him?” Peter wondered. You stiffened for a moment before putting the rest of your books in your locker.

“We’ve been together for over a year. I can’t just dump him. That’s mean.” You said quietly, not meeting Peter’s eye as he leaned against the lockers.

“And the way he treats you, that’s not mean?” Peter asked you gently.

“That’s just how we are.” You shrugged.

“But are you happy with that?” He inquired.

“He loves me.” You replied stiffly.

“Okay. Great. Are you happy?” Peter repeated when you dodged his question.

“We have to get to class.” You muttered, shutting your locker and putting your backpack on your shoulder.

“You’re not stupid, by the way. You’re the smartest one in this school. He’d know that if he showed up to a single decathlon debate.” Peter said bitterly.

“It’s fine.“ You dismissed.

“He has no business calling you that. Especially since he asked me how to spell “elevator” the other day.” Peter continued.

“It’s fine, Peter.” You repeated, wishing he’d drop the subject.

“It’s not fine. You deserve better.” He stopped you and looked you in the eyes. It infuriated him that Harry had something so valuable but treated her like she meant nothing. If you were Peter’s girlfriend, you wouldn’t be upset all the time. You’d enjoy life again. He wished he could show you that.

“Whatever that means.” You smiled sadly, dropping the subject.

Peter hated Harry, and Harry wasn’t too fond of Peter in return. Harry didn’t like the way Peter was always touching you, always with you, or how some days, you’d show up wearing Peters hoodie.

“I was just cold, babe. He leant it to me. That’s all.” You’d assure your jealous boyfriend.

Peter hated seeing you two together. Not even because Harry was dating the girl Peter loved, though that was part of it. He hated the way Harry treated you. He’d cheat on you and you knew it. You were just too naive to break it off.

“He said he won’t do it again.” You said through your reoccurring tears.

“He said that about the last four cheerleaders he hooked up with.” Peter reminded you as he stroked your hair. “You knew he and Stacy were more than just friends.”

“He loves me.” You’d insist, even when you no longer believed it.

“This isn’t love, darling.” Peter pulled you into his chest as you let out more sobs. “This is not love.”

In addition to that, Harry saw you as nothing more than a pretty face. While Peter and you’re friends knew your pretty face was the least interesting thing about you, Harry couldn’t see past that. You were smart, funny, brave, witty, talented, and big hearted. To Harry, you were hot and available. Peter wanted to smack the smug smirk off Harry’s face every time he smacked your butt, despite the many times you told him you hated that, or when he’d speak loudly of your alleged “encounters” in the locker room.

“You won’t believe what my girl did to me last night.” Harry boasted as he sprayed deodorant under his arms. Peter kept to himself as he changed into his gym uniform in the corner, but he listened closely as Harry’s meathead friends pressed him for details.

“You wouldn’t even believe it if I told you. My girl is a freak.” Harry said smugly. Peter knew damn well you and Harry had never gone past kissing. Not even passionate kissing. Pecks and kisses on cheeks, as you told Peter. You always stopped things when they went out of your comfort zone, and Harry always found what you wouldn’t give him with another girl. It was a painful cycle that you wouldn’t break, though Peter wished you would. And Peter also knew you spent last night in his bedroom, not Harry’s, studying for chemistry while chucking paper balls at each other. So whoever Harry was talking about, it wasn’t you.

“My bitch will do anything I say. She’s like a damn dog, always begging for it.” Harry laughed.

“Damn. Y/n is a freak!” A member of Harry’s entourage cheered.

Peter had tried to bite his tongue, but he just couldn’t. How dare someone speak of you that way, he thought. He closed his locker and stormed up tk where Harry and his friends were.

“First of all, women aren’t “bitches”, you neanderthal.” Peter sighed. “And Y/n was with me last night. So whatever “freak” you were getting your jollies off with last night, it wasn’t her. We both know she never has and never will want that from you.” Peter said coldly. Harry and his friends looked at Peter with surprised smiles.

“Listen Parker, I don’t know what “jollies” are, but you better watch your mouth.” Harry warned.

“And if I don’t? What are you gonna do? Cheat on me?” Peter was feeling brave and had a little time on his hands.

“Parker, you’re stupid with two o’s if you think you can speak to me that way.” Harry stepped up to Peter. Peter smirked a little, relishing in the one inch of height he had on Harry.

“But you can speak about Y/n all you want right? That’s how that works?” Peter tilted his head to the side.

“Why don’t you shut up before I make you?” Harry cracked his fingers.

“Go on then, make me” ,Peter smiled before adding, “shorty.”

Harry threw a punch at Peter, which Peter caught with ease. He didn’t punch Harry back. He didn’t need too. The shocked look on Harry’s face was enough.

“Nice bracelet, Parker. Your boyfriend give it to you?” Harry scraped his dignity together to insult the scrunchie Peter wore on his wrist. Your scrunchie.

“It’s Y/n’s.” Peter replied, and he saw the jealous fire ignite behind Harry’s eyes. “And I’m not gonna fight you, Harry. But I am gonna warn you. You need to break up with Y/n. She won’t do it, even though she knows she needs too.”

“And what if I don’t?” Harry asked through a clenched jaw. “What are you gonna do?“

“I…” Peter trailed off. He didn’t know what he was gonna do. He didn’t have a plan before threatening Harry.

“That’s what I thought.” Harry smirked. He banged the locker next to Peters head and walked away.

Peter went home that day carrying a greater hatred for Harry than he had woken up with.

It seemed every encounter with your boyfriend further proved Peter’s point that he was no good for you. Peter wasn’t a stranger to this feeling. He had a remedy for when he was in his feelings.

“Karen, play That Should Be Me by Justin Bieber.” Peter ordered. The music started playing and Peter grabbed a comb to sing into. He sang to his reflection at the top of his lungs.

“Do you do what you did when you did with me? Does he love you the way I can?“ Peter belted into the comb.

“Very good, Peter.” Karen commented.

“Thanks, Karen.” The eyes of his mask gave the mirror a comical wink before he went back to his song. “That should be me, holding your hand. That should be me, making you laugh. That should be me, this is so sad.”

“Period.” Karen said.

“That should be me, feeling your kiss. That should be me, buying you gifts.” Peter was screaming now. “This is so wrong. I can't go on ‘till you believe that should be me.”

Peter finished his ballad within the hour and left for patrol. By six, he was home from patrol, showered, and had you laying on his bed skimming through a history textbook.

“I just don’t believe you.” You said absentmindedly.

“It’s true! You have to believe me.” Peter exclaimed.

“Birds don’t fly in the shape of the Star of David, Peter.” You looked up from the textbook. “I don’t buy it.”

“But I literally saw it when I was on patrol! I’ll prove it to you.” Peter got out of his chair and grabbed his Spider-Man mask.

“How?” You asked, loving who worked up he was getting.

“Karen records everything I see. Put my mask on and I’ll show you the birds.” Peter held the mask out to you. You looked at it skeptically until a smile crossed your face.

“Okay, but the second your mask starts to smell like Axe and pizza rolls, I’m taking it off.” You told him.

“Whatever you say.” Peter laughed as he slipped the mask on over your face. “Karen, play footage from earlier today.”

“Playing footage from January 27th.” Karen said dutifully.

“I need to know should I fight for our love or disarm. It's getting harder to shield this pain in my heart.” Footage of Peter singing into a hair comb in the mirror with his Spider-Man mask on his face appeared in front of you.

“What is this?” You laughed. Peter’s heart stopped when he heard the dulcet sounds of Justin Bieber coming from the mask.

“Oh dear God.” Peter whispered. He lunged for the mask but you backed away.

“No, I need to see this.” You said through your laughter as you watched the video.

“Y/n.” Peter whined as he attempted to get the mask off your head.

“That should be ME, holding your hand! That should be ME, making you laugh!” Peter screamed as Karen egged him on. “That should be ME, this is so sad.”

“How could you not tell me you have Bieber Fever?” You asked in pretend offense.

“Karen, fast forward!” Peter shouted. The video feed fast forwarded to Peter, still in front of his mirror, panting heavily from his previous performance.

“Are we an item? Girl, quit playing. We’re just friends, what are you saying? Said "There’s another," and looked right in my eyes. My first love broke my heart for the first time, and I was like baby, baby, baby oh.” A video of Peter singing “Baby” appeared before you.

“FAST FOWARD KAREN!” Peter yelled again.

“Karen, play Boyfriend by Big Time Rush.” Peter said into the mirror in the video.

“There’s more?!” You nearly shrieked, loving every second of what you were seeing.

“YOU’RE LOOKING FOR A BOYFRIEND, I SEE THAT. GIVE ME TIME, YOU KNOW I’M GONNA louder Karen BE THAT.” The video of Peter played. He was even more into this song than the last. He was jumping around his room in his boxers, screaming the lyrics as loud as he could.

“Please take the mask off.” Peter put his head in his hands and mumbled.

“CAN’T YOU SEE THAT I REALLY WANT IS TO BE YOUR BOYFRIEND Y/N!” Peter sang and your laughter immediately haulted. “YOUR B-B-B-B-B-B-B-BOYFRIEND.”

“That’s enough.” Peter said and this time, you listened. You slowly took the mask off and looked at you your red faced best friend.

“You said my name.” You said, mainly to yourself as you held the mask out to him.

“It’s a part of the song.” Peter lied, taking the mask from your hands.

“Peter, you’re talking to Big Time Rush’s number one fan. I know my name is not in the song.” You said, staring at him intensely, looking for an answer. Peter avoided eye contact with you and toyed with the edges of his mask. You got off Peter’s bed and knelt down beside his desk chair. You were close enough to see the red splotches on his neck from embarrassment.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” You put a hand on his knee and rubbed it gently with your thumb.

“I hate your boyfriend.” Peter said after a minute in a soft voice.

“I already knew that.” You looked at him closely. Peter fidgeted in his seat and let out a sigh.

“I wanna be your boyfriend.” Peter said, eyes slowly trailing up to se shout face and gage your reaction. You stopped rubbing his knee and sat in silence for a moment.

“My b-b-b-b-b-b-boyfriend?” You said after a moment. Peter got out of his chair and walked towards the window.

“Don’t.” He deadpanned.

“I didn’t know that.” You said softly as you stood up. Peter turned to you and you could see the redness in his eyes.

“Because I didn’t tell you.” He said weakly.

“Is that why you wanted me to break up with Harry?” You took a step closer and Peter looked away.

“I wanted you to break up with Harry because he’s a villain. That never had anything to do with my feelings for you.” Peter admitted. “I just wanted what was best for you.”

“Oh.” You said simply. “It’s funny, I wanted to break up with him for a different reason.”

“What was your reason?” Peter wondered.

“That I’m in love with my best friend.” You cracked a smile. “And that’s what I told Harry after school today when I dumped him.” You went to Peter and rested your hands on his chest. “I know about what happened in the locker room. I know you stood up for me.”

“You’re in love with me?” He asked hopefully, his hands going to your waist as a tiny smile appeared on his face.

“Yes.” You confirmed. “Even if you lie about seeing birds flying in the shape of the Star of David.”

“I really saw those birds.” He swore.

“I really don’t care.” You put your hands on Peter’s face. “Do you know what else I told Harry?”

“What?” Peter asked, drawing you even closer.

“I’m not into short guys.” You shrugged before pulling him into a kiss. Peter kissed you back, finally feeling at ease. He cupped your face and pulled you impossibly closer.

“I have an idea for our first activity as a couple.” You smiled once you pulled away.

“What’s that?” Peter asked with a coy smile.

“Karen, play One Less Lonely Girl by Justin Bieber.” You ordered.

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona​ @foreverxholland​ @writing-for-hours-on-end​ @lavender-writer​ @captainmandeestudent17​ @whatareyouhidingpeter​ @takenbyheartstrings​ @ultrunning​ @imyourliquor-youremypoison​ @theolwebshooter​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @guksmyfav​ @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines​ @ho-ho-holland @peterparkoure​ @a-villain-vying-for-attention​ @m19friend @justcallmehitgirl​ @averyfosterthoughts​ @jackiehollanderr​ @tiny-friggin-human​ @celestial-skylines​ @loveat2am​ @mara-twins​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @delicately-important-trash​ @mjspxrker​ @spideygirl2003 @the-crazy-fanfictionist​ @kii-mii​ @maryjanee23​ @spacebitch2​ @vgiselle​ @geeksareunique​

[willddheartt]

24 Days | Wilbur Soot

30 days to fall in love with someone? Sounds easy right? It would be if that person wasn’t so unbelievably annoying in almost every sense.

You’re not sure how you found yourself in this situation, but you were positive there was no backing out now…

Series Warnings: Mostly fluff and angst, and a very poorly constructed enemies to lovers plot.

Word Count: 1685

Masterlist Series Masterlist

24 Days

It was Friday, you were in the middle of doing your two-hour-long stream that you did every Friday. Since you took weekends off from your own streams you did a long one every week. It worked out, you seemed to get a lot more views on Friday anyways.  All the donos seemed to ask about you and Wilbur, you forced a smile to tell everyone you guys were well and that you’re very happy together. The viewers seemed to be happy with your responses and didn't catch you falter.  You were on the DreamSMP cleaning up things and repairing things from any creeper explosions, as having holes in the walkways annoyed you to no end because it didn't look pleasing to the eye. Many ties you were passed by Fundy, Tubbo, and even Tommy.  The in-game chat stated to be spammed by Tommy, VC 2 VC 2 VC 2 over and over again. 

“Well chat, let’s see what Tommy wants,” You giggled and switched to discord.  “Hello Tommy,” You smiled, wondering what type of shenanigans he was up to today, you noticed he was also streaming so you knew it was something that was going to be very entertaining to the stream.  “Y/N!” He yelled  “Tommy!” You yelled back, matching his energy.  “How do you do?” His sudden calm tone almost made you burst into a fit of laughter.  “I do well, Thomas. What are you up to tonight?” You asked, smiling to yourself when using his full name.  “Well, you see, Y/N. See here’s the thing. I am out of supplies, I don’t even have iron to my name Y/N-” “Do you want me to help you get some?” You offered, cutting him off  “Well, actually I was hoping you could just give me some.”  “Tommy,” You laughed, “That’s- unfortunately, that not how it works my friend.” You paused, taking a sip of your water, “I am more than willing to help you go mining, I know a pretty good spot actually, but I’m not going to just give you stuff for nothing.”  “C’mon Y/N you could write it off your taxes as a charity donation,”  You had to give it to him, although Tommy could be annoying at times he was so effortlessly funny, you were almost certain that he didn't even have to try. 

“Ah yes, hang on let me see what I have to give to Tommy’s charity fund,” You laughed, looking through your inventory, pondering for a few moments, making it look like you were going to give him half your stack of iron only our stream before clicking to the three seeds you’d picked up some time ago and throwing them at his feet. His character's head went from looking at you to the seeds, then back to you and back to the seeds again, you pulled up his stream on your other monitor so you could see his face, trying so hard to not burst out into laughter when you saw his unamused look. 

Feeling bad you pulled up a donation, giving Tommy Five bucks so the text-to-speech would work, “Tommy Charity Fund.” You sent and waited for it to go through.  He paused, hearing the dono tts voice, before looking back up at you in the game.  “Fuck you,” He said running away. You couldn't suppress your laughter any longer and it all fell out at once, chat exploded into laughter and emotes, everyone found it hilarious.

A few seconds after you were still in the voice chat with Tommy, he had ventured off to go mining, I guess stealing from people wasn't going well. Since the last war, nobody has really been gathering supplies, taking a break from the lore to just get things done around the server. Tommy still bringing up the ‘charity fund’ you found it hilarious. 

“You’re a bitch you know that,” He mumbled, you knew he was only joking, with Tommy you never took anything to heart, if he had a true problem with you, you know he would message you privately.  “Tommy,” Wilbur's voice came over discord, making you jump slightly.  “Hi Wilbur,” He said, sounding like a little kid when their mom gets them in trouble.  “Apologize to Y/N.'' Wilbur's voice was playful, yet stern, sounding exactly like the older brother who was put in charge of his younger siblings. 

After a second, you could see Tommy bow his head on his stream that was still pulled up on your other monitor.  “Sorry, Y/N. You’re not a bitch.” He said  “It’s okay Tommy,” You chuckled  “Thank you.” Spoke Wilbur before leaving the voice chat. 

You and Tommy stayed on call until his stream ended. You were left alone, talking to your chat. Without anyone else there to keep a consistent conversation you started to daze off, forgetting you were on stream, yawning and leaning forward onto your desk. Your back hurt from how long you’d been sat in front of the monitor. 

Your discord made a noise again, but this time you didn’t bother tabbing out to see who had joined.  “Hey, Y/N,” Wilburs soft voice came across your headphones  “Will,” You smiled, sitting up  “You look tired, how long have you been up?” He asked 

You looked at the clock, it was only 11 PM but you could have sworn it was later.  “Since one,”  “AM or PM?” Will asked  You looked down, “AM,” You mumbled. “You should go to bed,” He said You sighed, knowing he could break you eventually, as your eyelids were drooping shut and your eyes were burning. “Its not even that long, Wil, I’m fine.” You argued 

“How long have you been streaming?” Wilbur asked  “I’m almost at my five hour mark, I’m like forty-five minutes away,”  “End your stream early and get ready for bed than we can chat,” His voice was soft and warm speaking over your stream, your chat exploded, loving Wilbur and you together.  “But I’m so close, just a few more minutes,” You sighed, tabbing out of your game and switching the stream to a full face cam. “I’m sure they wont mind if you end a little early, you've been streaming for a while, love.” He continued, slowly wearing you down. “I can even entertain your chat for a bit while you go get ready for bed, or even make yourself a cup of tea, then when you come back, it will be close enough that you can end the stream, how does that sound?”  You sighed, knowing he had won. You looked at chat and back to the timer of how long you've been on stream, “Okay.” You nodded. 

“Alright Chat, I’m sorry for ending early but you heard the man. Next week will be extra long to make up for this, I promise.” You said, looking at the chat, everyone was spamming ‘goodnight’ and ‘goodbye’  “It was nice spending this fine evening with you all, but I must go now, I will see everyone Monday. Bye!” You ended stream 

“Hi, Wilbur,” You smiled to yourself after ending stream  “I’m going to call your number now, and you can go get ready for bed, okay?” He said  “Alright, Wil,” you nodded, closing all the windows you had open on your pc. 

After shutting everything off you grabbed what you needed and went to the bathroom. Wilbur called you halfway through taking your makeup off, you had eyeliner smudged all around your eyes when you answered his facetime.  When his face popped up on your screen, he was wearing his glasses and a big smile, his hair was a mess and he was already in bed. 

“Getting ready for bed?” He asked, as if he didn't already know.  “Of course,” You shook your head, leaning closer to the mirror making sure you had all the bits of makeup taken off before washing your face with warm water  Picking up your phone you held up a peace sign, making Wil laugh and attempt to take a sneaky screenshot.  “Hey, no, delete that, I look terrible.” You quickly argued after hearing the noise.  “You do not.” He was fast to respond. “You look refreshed, you're glowing.” you shook your head at him as you walked back to your room through the dark house. 

Your roommate had already gone to bed, close to an hour ago. You were always the last person up, being an internet person with many American friends who are in a different time zone and a night owl at heart. You flopped down into your soft pillows, pulling your duvet over yourself and propping your phone up on your laptop so you could still see Wilbur and he could see you. You pulled the corner of the blanket up to hide your face. 

“Don't do that, I want to see your face,” Wilbur frowned.  “No you don’t,” You shook your head  “Yes,” He spoke, “I do.” You moved the blanket so it wasn't all the way covering your face but it was still pulled up enough that your shoulders were covered.  “You realize next week you’ll be here for your stream?” Wilbur said.  “I do now,” You pinched the bridge of your nose, “I’m sorry, I didn't think of that,”  “Its okay, you can stream from my computer,” He smiled. “It will surprise chat,”  “Oh my god, can you imagine, they're going to go crazy,” You chuckled  “They will,”

Wilbur continued to tell you about how he was truly getting excited to have you meet him in person, but his soft voice had been lulling you to sleep, your eyelids struggling to stay open and your warm bed weighing you down. Eventually you were out. Wilbur didn't notice until he asked you a question and did not respond. Your laptop screen was still shining light on you, and he saw you were asleep against the black screen, smiling at you. He snuck another screenshot, making sure the sound was off this time. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He said sweetly before getting comfortable in bed himself and slowly drifting off. 

[clairecrive]

"Phone call" - Ronnie Kray x reader

I was requested this on Wattpad. I hope you like this. It's been a minute since I've written anything so idk how to feel about this. Anyway, guys we hit 800!!! I honestly can't believe it. Absurd. Thank you so much for reading my crappy stuff tho lol. I really appreciate it. I’m going away for a week ish and I won’t have any wifi or anything so I won’t be able to post. But I am working on something, so don’t worry :)

Tag list: @mollybegger-blog​, @br0ck-eddie​, @of-love-and-of-the-sea​, @evelynshelby​, @ashesbelle​, @sopxhiea​, @fandom--0verdose​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @shadow-of-wonder​, @fuseburner​ , @deaflikehawkeye​

Amidst her chaotic everyday life, there were few things that allowed y/n to keep her feet on the ground and take a break from her routine. One thing was her weekly updates with her best friend. Some weeks they happened more than once if something especially juicy went down but the bare minimum was once a week.

So there’s where she was one a fine autumn afternoon. On her favourite sofa, waiting for Ron to get home so that she could get supper started, as Sophia was catching her up to the latest.

“Seriously though, Soph, it was bound to happen.” She pointed out once Sophia finished her story.

“You think? I thought she’d never work out the courage to leave him.”

“I don’t think it’s about courage but survival. She just couldn’t go on like that and I mean, can you blame her?” Y/n tried to let her see her point but she knew that Soph had a very different mindset to hers when it came to these things.

“I don’t know, I guess this is one of those situations where you don’t know how you’d react until you’re in it yourself.”

“Nah, if I was her I’d left him a long time ago.”

“You always do this y/n, it’s easy to be this rational when it’s not your feelings that are involved.” Sophia snappily pointed out effectively getting on y/n’s nerves.

“Just listen to me, okay?” Rolling her eyes, she set out to explain herself. “Let’s say that this was me and Ron. I’m in the house, all by myself 24/7, every day of the week. My husband is at work and I understand that he needs to work to provide for us. But didn’t he made a promise to be there for me too?” It was rather a rhetorical question but she stopped as if she was waiting for Sophia to answer anyway. “So I talk to him, trying to make him see that I’m lonely and that I miss him. At first, he’s sweet and nice and gets home in time for dinner. A week passes and we’re back at it again, me alone and in a relationship with his house rather than him. A month goes by and what? I hear rumours that he’s been seen dining and going out with the same lady numerous times? And I’m still here at home waiting for him?” She didn’t think there was anything to add to prove her point but she did anyway. “I strongly disagree Soph. Marriage is about sharing your life with another person. A life filled with their love and presence. If they’re not there then I don’t want to be in that relationship anymore.” She finished her speech waiting to hear Soph’s opinion when instead she was met with the sound of a disconnected call.

“Hello?” Too busy in her rant she hadn’t heard that Ron had come back home and that it was his finger that had disconnected the call.

“Don’t you think I should be the first one to learn that you want to dump me?” And since she was none the wiser about his presence in the house, his thundering tone made her jump in surprise.

She turned to him in a rush and relaxed one she registered that it was only him. Only to be put off again by his furrowed expression.

“What are you talking about?”

“I should ask you the same question, shouldn’t I? Since when do you feel in a relationship with my house? And by the way, I thought this was OUR house.”

“Ronnie, you don’t understand-”

“Yes, I don’t. ‘Cause I thought you loved me.”

“I do love you.”

“But you want to leave me? Jesus Christ woman, I’m supposed to be the nutter.”

“I don’t want to leave you! Ron-” she tried to explain but he interrupted her yet again.

“Then what was that?”

“If you would shut up and let me talk, I’ll explain,” she couldn’t help it, she raised her voice. She knew that Ronnie didn’t like loud noises but frustration got the best of her.

The two stared at each other, taking the other in while getting a hold of themselves at the same time. Then Ron gave her the scene, with a wave of his hand.

“It wasn’t you, I was talking about on the phone.” She started but halted at Ron’s unconvinced raised eyebrow. He did hear his name leave her lips. He was not stupid, thank you very much.

“Alright, I did say your name but it was only to prove a point. To make an example.” But Ronnies was still not convinced.

“Helen left his husband.” She said like it explained everything. But those words meant absolutely nothing to Ron. Who was Helen? He didn’t know and he didn’t even care. Should he? He didn’t think so.

“It had been a long time coming but Sophia thought otherwise. She said that I was just being too rational and that it wasn’t that simple so to make her understand I listed Helen’s problems and what I would do if it would have happened to me. That’s why I said your name.” She concluded.

Going over what she had, Ron thought that it quite added up but at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel conscious of their relationship now. He could see that she was telling the truth but somehow that didn’t help. And since y/n knew him well, she could see that.

“None of the things I said applied to us, Ronnie,” she addressed him now with a softer tone. Crunching beside the chair he was sitting on, she took his hand in hers and looked for his eyes. He always told her that sometimes words were superfluous and that eyes could be a lot more expressive and exhaustive than we thought. Y/n had never thought she could be quite as eloquent with her eyes than she was with her words but a while into their relationship, she found out that when it came to certain things, things that seem so complicated but are actually so simple, she really could say what she needed to with just a look. Whether it was, “I’m not really angry but you should give me a kiss to say sorry anyway”, or “shut up Ron and follow my lead” when they were around people they didn’t know well and Ron was beginning to scare them away, or “I swear that if you say another word you’ll be sleeping on the couch” during an argument, but also “I wish I knew the words to express what I’m feeling right now so that you could understand how special you are to me” in those private moments they shared after dinner, in the comfort and privacy of their home.

“So you don’t feel like you’re in a relationship with my house?” Was Ron’s quiet reply when he finally met her eyes.

“I helped pay for this house too, so it’s our house, thank you very much.” He snickered knowing what she said to be true.

“Besides, apart from when we’re both at work, we’re always together so how do you think I could ever be lonely?” She observed trying to get him out of that grey zone she knew he always pulled in and out from.

“How are saying that I’m clingy now?” Ah, here he is.

“Never. I didn’t marry you to be alone, did I?” Was y/n's olive branch. But Ronnie had believed her and to assure her that they were good, he sealed it all with a kiss.

[bbykpoper]

𝓢𝓽𝓻𝓪𝔀𝓫𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂 🍓

Inspired by this post 🌼

Pairing: professor!jongho x student!reader

Index: Hongjoong // Seonghwa // San // Yunho // Wooyoung // Mingi // Yeosang

･*:༅｡

The early morning sun hit the windows of your small room just as the alarm on your phone buzzed underneath your pilow. A soft groan left your lips as you snaked an arm underneath it to turn of the annoying buzz.

“Wake up sleepy head.” The soft whisper reached your ears, making you stir under the covers. “You’ll be late to class.”

“I don’t wanna.” You mumbled out. 

“But you have to, otherwise I’ll throw you out of my lecture Miss y/l/n.” The soft voice chuckled and it was then that your eyes shot open and widened at the face in front of you.

“Welcome back to the world of the morning people Miss y/l/n.” The softest smile reached your eyes and you groaned into your arms as you looked over to your friends for help. “Come to my office after class.”

“Yes sir...” You huffed as he went on to continue his lecture.

“Why didn’t any of you kick me when I fell asleep?” Your soft whisper reached your seatmate.

“Sorry y/n, but you were sleeping so soundly I didn’t have the heart to.” She answered.

Lucy was the cute clueless blonde that ended up being friends with you after freshman orientation when she managed to trip over your foot on accident. She, just like you was a biology major and you guys were inseperable ever since. 

“I just really wanted to see you get embarrassed so I did nothing.” Your other seatmate snorted through her quiet laugh.

Phoebe was a girl who first befriended Lucy, also through an accident in the student cafeteria along the second semester of your first year. She was such a laid back brunette that you two naturally got along and stuck together in most of your classes.

“Wow, you just really like to watch me suffer don’t you?” You mumbled her way and breathed a sigh of relief as the lecture continued without another incident.

“I just find it amusing how you have this large ass crush on our ecology professor.” Phoebe commented, booping your nose as she picked up her books.

“Hey, Professor Choi is an attractive man. If I was straight I’d go after him too y/n!” Lucy added as comfort to you.

“Gee, thanks?” You laughed at these exchange. “I’m gonna go off now to get a lecture on my behavior and maybe later we can grab a coffee or something?” 

“Yeah, we’ll meet you at Sugarberry’s.” 

You made your way towards Professor Choi’s office, tightening the pony tail on your head and mentally preparing yourself to zone out on his speech and just admire the man’s beauty. Just as you were about to knock on the door, it suddenly opened and a young man smiled at you, excusing himself and leaving. You shamelessly stared after the tall blond man, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the shape of his backside came into full view when he readjusted his shirt.

“Miss y/l/n.” The stern voice of your professor drew your eyes to him only to notice how he was now standing right in front of you. “Please take a seat.”

He moved and you shuffled inside taking a seat in front of his desk. 

“How have you been Miss y/l/n?” He asked.

“Good.” You said. 

“Have you been getting enough sleep?” He chuckled when you blushed intensly.

“Sorry about that sir, I had a project due yesterday and haven’t exactly had time to sleep.” You admited with a really strong blush on your cheeks.

“Well Miss y/l/n, I would’ve liked it better if you listened to my lectures instead of sleeping in the middle of it.” He said looking over at his window. 

You being the curious little thing that you are peeked over to see the array of plants which were situated in his window, especially the one he was looking at.

“Are you growing a fennel in your office?” You giggled out loud when you noticed how his eyes widened in embarrassement.

“You know your way around plants?” 

“Yes, I am planning on working in the greenhouses when I get my degree. I really do like plants and growing them.” Your eyes lit up with love as you spoke about your dream. “Even back in my appartement, I basically grow anything and everything I can and get on my roommates nerves because some of the devil ivy reached the bathroom.”

You stopped yourself when you saw how the man in front of you watched you with so much softness and awe in his eyes that the blush which reached your cheeks, spread out to your ears, burning them in the process.

“Would you be interested to join me on a little excursion this Saturday?” He suddenly asked you. 

“An... excursion...?” You tilted your head and you suddenly spoke out. “As in a date?!”

“Oh God no!” He was really quick to deny that and it hurt you a little bit seeing him so quick to say no. “You are one of my best students, and I would like for you to join a small group of my top proteges this Saturday. We’ll be visiting the National Greenhouse and I think it would be a wonderful chance for you all.”

“Oh, I see.” You said, feeling the humiliation crawling up your neck. “Silly me.”

“Would you like to join?”

“Yeah, sure.” You slumped your shoulders. 

“Perfect.” He clapped his hands together in joy. “If you don’t mind I’d like to get your number so that I can add you to our whatsapp group.”

“Yeah, neat.” You took his phone and begrugdingly typed your number. “Is there anything else you wanted to talk to me about?”

“No, that would be all.” He smiled, looking at his phone. “See you on Saturday.”

･*:༅｡

“So what, now you’re going to this outing or whatever it is with like five other students and him?” Phoebe asked clearly pissed off. 

“Yep.” Is all that you could muster.

“But at least you have his number.” Lucy tried to lift your mood.

“But what does that even mean? Nothing.” Phoebe groaned. “She likes him for almost two years, is obvious around him as if she’s carrying a transparent that says ‘marry me’ and the only thing he does is allude to a date but end it as a social gathering for his proteges?” Her eye-roll didn’t go unnoticed. “A bunch of bull if you ask me.”

“Or maybe he is in a position in which he can’t openly ask you out.” A sudden intrusion of another voice made the girls look up and see the waitress come over with their order. “Men are dumb creatures and sometimes they simply need a push when it comes to feelings. My advice to you is to just simply tell him that you’ve liked him for so long and just see where it goes from there.”

“But what if he doesn’t like me back? What if this strains any type of relationship I have with him?” You asked the waitress in the cute and fluffy pink apron. 

“Then at least you’ll know what you’re dealing with and will finally get the chance to move on.” She shrugged her shoulders and thanked them for the money they left her for the drinks, walking back to the inside of the shop.

“You know, that girl actually gives good advice.” Lucy commented.

“Must be nice being in a healthy relationship.” Phoebe muttered out watching the girl inside the shop as she smiled politely to some other customers.

･*:༅｡

Saturday had come by faster than you had liked and you dreaded to leave the appartment. The greenhouse group had decided to meet up at the bus station 12 p.m. sharp and from there professor Choi will drive you guys down to the greenhouse and the tour will begin. 

And right now, it was 11.30 a.m. Your friends were over and had forced you to wear one of your many long dresses to fit in with the flowers you would see in the greenhouse. It was a soft green dress with a pattern of leaves spread out across it. You sighed for the umptenth time as Lucy had braided your hair in a loose fish braid and looked over at Phoebe who was admiring your roommates ability to ignore all the plants inside here.

“It will never stop to amaze me how you put up with all these plants Mina.” She said.

“It’s not that bad.” She smiled. “I have actually grown fond of them. And y/n takes real good care of them so I don’t mind them.” She laughed. “Plus they are a really good background for photos.”

Mina was a photography major who you shared your dorm with in your second year. You two bonded quickly and when you managed to finish the second year, decided that it’d be great to have your own appartment together. And here you were one year later. 

“How are you feeling?” Lucy asked you.

“Nervous. Meh. Disappointed.” You stated turning towards her. “I’ve decided to listen to the advice the waitress at Sugarberry’s had told me. I mean honestly, what could go wrong?”

“The rest of the semester will be pretty awkward if you ask me.” Phoebe nodded her head.

“Like it isn’t now?” You snorted. “I’m just getting tired of having dreamy eyes for my damned professor and being treated like a project for him.”

“A project?” Both Mina and Lucy asked.

“Well this is that isn’t it? His empowering our future or what not. I appreciate the fact that this will help me get my dream job but I literally can’t take this anymore.” You slumped down into the couch.

“Well you better because you have less than ten minutes to get downstairs and to the station.” Mina pointed on the clock and you groaned grabbing your bag and stomping outside of the front door.

“Oh dear, I hope it all goes well.” Lucy commented looking at the other two girls.

Honda Hitomi, Danny Wellbridge, Jackson Wang, Joana Clark. The rest of your outing group was already gathered at the bus station located in front of your appartment complex. You had joined them all just a few minutes before professor Choi pulled up with his car. Joana was the first to call shotgun and sat next to him, while the rest of you evenly pilled in the back. Danny and Jackson in the far back, you and Hitomi in the middle.

“Oh gosh I’m so excited to see all the insects there!” Hitomi squealed in joy. 

“I know what you mean.” Danny added from the back.

“I’m just happy about the plants. I heard they’ve updated their western exhibition and added some new types.” Jackson said.

“Really?” You turned to face him. You’ve seen Jackson around campus a few times before. He was the definition of a social butterfly and sometimes even hanged with Phoebe. But you never got the chance to personally get to know him before this trip. “Do you think there would be some rare types of flowers there too?”

“I don’t know. But it would be awesome.” Jackson said matching your enthusiasm. “Hey, you maybe wanna go together to look around?”

The conversation you two were having was caught by professor Choi and he observed you through the rear view mirror, a prominent scowl on his face.

“Hell yeah!” You nodded with a bright smile.

It wasn’t long before you all made it to the National Greenhouse and were at the entrance waiting for your guide. You evaded talking to professor Choi, directing your full attention to what Jackson was talking about, fearing that if you did speak with him now you’ll loose all your courage to confess later on.

“Students, this is Jeong Yunho. He’s an old college buddy that’s in charge of the Japanese garden in the back and he’ll be our guide today.” Professor Choi spoke up cathing all of yours attention.

“Please call me Yunho.” The man with the pale blue hair smiled at you all and waved. “I’ll give you the main tour and then I’ll let you wonder about on your own. I feel that that way you all will go where your interests pull you.”

The tour was wonderful and you and Jackson managed to bond over every neat little plant you could find. Hitomi and Danny gushed so much when you guys ran accross a caterpillar and you then commented on something stupid drawing Hitomi in and befriending her quickly. The tour had come to an end when you reached the center of the greenhouse area and Yunho turned to them all.

“You are free to go off now, but I’d like it if you went in pairs as to not getting lost. These place is large and it’s quite easy to turn the wrong corner.” He said nodding to professor Choi. “The greenhouse closes at 7 p.m. Have fun. I need to get back to work.”

“Thank you.” You all said in union.

“So, where do you want to go first?” Jackson asked as Danny and Hitomi scurried off towards the insect exhibition. 

“How about visiting the South European-” 

“Mister Wang you should go with Miss Clarck. Your interests seem to be the same and it would be best that way.” Professor Choi cut you off.

“But me and y/n agreed to go together...” Jackson stated.

“Yes, but this is a better suited pair.” He said with a cold smile which made Jackson look at you for help. “Shall we Miss y/l/n?”

This was your chance!

“Sure.” You nodded and looked at Jackson. “I’ll make this up to another day.” You added apologetically and went off after professor Choi.

“So where are we headed?” You asked him.

“A surprise.” He winked at you and it made you blush.

On the way to this ‘surprise’ you have left the greenhouse and moved on to more of a garden scape further back and it just made your heart stop at the beauty of it.

“The interesting fact about the National Greenhouse is that the Botanical Gardens are just a bit behind them, and this is in fact where Yunho works.” Professor Choi stopped and placed a hand on your shoulder pointing in one direction. “See, he’s right over there working on a bonsai tree.”

All the blood rushed up to your ears at the close proximity between you two. The whisper of words made your stomach churn and your legs weak. You needed to get this crush off of your chest soon, otherwise you’ll be stuck fawning over him forever. 

As he guided you towards a small garden a flower caught your eye and you stopped getting a closer look.

“A youtan poluo.” You breathed out in a whisper. “And jade vines.”

“That’s right.” He smiled at your shinning eyes. “Welcome to the rare flower exhibit.” He chuckled. “Surprise.”

You looked around and noticed many more which you’ve only seen in books and on the internet. It was a magnificent sight to see and just the aromas which surrounded you had your head doing summersaults.

“I overheard you and Jackson talking in the back while getting here and I remembered Yunho telling me how they’ve updated their rare flower collection, so I thought you’d be happy if I brought you here.” You looked over at this man and his shy sunshine smile. And you’ve decided. It was now or never. “I was right wasn’t I?”

“I like you.” You stated, looking right at his eyes. Professor Choi looked dumbfounded an at a loss for words. The fast blinks were matching his rapid heartbeat but he was unable to form any words. “I’ve liked you for well over two years now professor. All those times you showed sympathy to me and ignored the fact I fell asleep in your class, or those times you would shyly smile when you noticed I was staring at you regardless of where we were. I know you figured this out already. But I just had to tell you.”

“I like you professor Choi Jongho.”

You looked at him with hope in your eyes as he stood there processing this information you had thrown at him. It felt like the minutes were going by in an eternal stupor of movements, his facial expressions changing as he came in terms with what just happened. You were scared, shaking and nervous. You really didn’t know what to expect. But surely you were not ready to get rejected.

“y/n...” 

It was clear by the tone with which he said your name and the tears welled up in your eyes. Gosh, you were dumb weren’t you.

“Yeah, I figured.” You stated with a sad smile on your face. “It’s okay. I don’t expect anything from you. I was dumb to even say these things to you.” You sighed and gripped your dress for support. “I think it’s better if I go home now. Thank you for bringing me here today and showing me these flowers.” The tears were now feely falling from your eyes, you unable to control them. “It really did make me happy.”

You ran off without stopping. Not when he called after you. Not when you viciously passed by a worried Jackson. Not even stopping to look at the bus number that had just stopped and getting on it. You cried in the back, not caring about all the stares you were getting from the old ladies. 

It hurt. Your heart really hurt.

By some dumb luck you had actually gotten on the right bus and made it back to your appartment complex, you made your way to your appartment and to your room, ignoring the worried roommate who was more than ready to throw hands with a grown ass man. You crawled into your bed, disregarded your plants and just wallowed in your self pitty for the rest of the week.

･*:༅｡

It’s been a whole week and you haven’t left your room except to shower ever since. Jackson and Hitomi had been blowing up your phone, worried after you had just ran out without a word. But you turned off your phone after the fifth call request from Jongho. He had tried calling you that night but you had fallen asleep and the next day when he did call you you cried more getting an earful from Phoebe. 

Hell, you dreaded leaving your room just because you knew Phoebe would make you attend all your classes and yell at you for being M.I.A. for a whole week. 

“She still hasn’t come out of her room?” Lucy asked Phoebe as they both collected their things to leave class. 

“No. Mina leaves food out the door and y/n eats once a day just so she doesn’t die.” Phoebe sighed. “She even neglects her plants Lucy! She never does that. Not even when her grandma died.”

The two were just about to walk out of class when somebody approached them. Lucy’s eyes went wide while Phoebe took on the stance of a dog with rabies. It was apparent he wasn’t welcome.

“Hello girls.” Professor Choi spoke up. 

“No offense, but we don’t want to talk to you sir.” Phoebe grumbled out.

“I know, but please hear me out.” He sighed in defeat. The two looked between each other and Lucy urged Phoebe to let the man talk. “I didn’t get the chance to answer y/n properly and she hasn’t been to my class this week. I’d like for you two to help me so I could talk to her and clear up this missunderstanding.”

“What missunderstanding? Her feelings aren’t a missunderstanding. They’re valid and came from the heart!” Lucy was quick to say.

“I know. But my answer was a missunderstanding.” He said sincerely.

Phoebe caught on pretty quickly by what he meant and narrowed her eyes while she got up in his face. She pointed her insex finger in his chest and harshly jabbed at it.

“I got my eye on you buckeroo.” She stated threateningly. “I know how to hide a dead body.”

Jongho gulpped as he, for the first time, took notice of those fierce eyes this girl had. He nodded furiously, almost cracking his neck. Phoebe pulled back and headed for the door, followed by a confused Lucy. Even Jongho looked defeated as he assumed they were leaving.

“Well? Do you want to talk to her or not?” 

Mina stared at the plate full of food which she had left this morning. It was late afternoon now and she had just come back from her lectures but the plate was untouched. You haven’t left your room at all. 

“y/n.” She whispered out as she knocked on your door. “You need to eat. I don’t want you getting sick...”

No answer. Just like before. She sighed and cast down her eyes as she picked up the tray. A sudden knock on the front door drew her attention and she went to open it, revealing Phoebe and Lucy with an unexpected addition.

“Her room is the one in the corner of the living room.” Phoebe said as Jongho took of his shoes. “He needs to talk with her and I thought you might want to hang with us while he does.”

Mina looked up at the man and nodded, understanding the need for privacy.

“If you manage to get in can you make her eat? She barely had a proper meal this week...” She handed him the tray of food.

“I’ll make sure.”

They left and Jongho went over to your door, noticing how it hand a small potted plant hanging off it. It was cute, something which really suited you. He knocked a few times but there was no answer. With a brave heart and hope that you hadn’t locked you door he tried the knob, happy when it opened. 

The inside of your room was covered in darkness, streetlights seeping in through the large windows. Potted plants were in the window and Jongho noticed how they seemed to be lacking water. He took it upon himself to relive the plants of their thirst, leaving the tray of food on your desk. 

“Go away Mina. I don’t want to eat.” The bundle of sheets spoke and caught his attention. 

It seemed you had made yourself into a taco, some hair sticking out to indicate where your head was. He sat down next to you and placed his large hand on your head.

“Your roommate left a while ago.” He spoke up, catching you off guard. “Before you yell at anybody, I asked your friends to bring me over so that I can talk to you. And I’d like it if you listened to me first before throwing me out.”

Your body stiffened but you kept quiet. You were yet again on the verge of crying but were trying really hard to control yourself.

“I was surprised back at the botanical garden when you confessed your feelings for me. A lot of emotions went through my head and I was dumbfounded for any type of answer at first. I thought how it was wrong for one of my students to fall in love with me, how I should have stopped this crush you had the minute I caught on it... but I just couldn’t do that. I noticed you the first day you had walked into my class, the way your hair swayed with every small movement of your head, how you would soak up every bit of information I gave you like a sponge, even the way you’d chew your nails when stressed.” He sighed when he noticed you calming down and peeked out the covers. “I have liked you since day one y/n. But I though it was wrong and I couldn’t bring you in a situation where you would be involved with your professor.” He chuckled. “To be honest, I would have confessed when you graduated.”

“Really?” You crawled out from underneath the sheets.

“Really.” He nodded with a smile.

“But what does this mean for us now?” You asked, sitting up and letting the covers reveal you whole.

It was only then that Jongho noticed how your hair covered your bare shoulder. The tanktop you were weating hugged your body closely and the booty shorts did not help his eyes to not wander down your bare legs. 

“We can try to make this work. You only have one more year ahead of you. As long as we don’t make it obvious I’m sure we’ll survive.” He stated a deep blush covering his cheeks.

“Are you sure?” You asked with a furrowed brow not understanding why he was suddenly so flustered. But then you noticed how his eyes wandered down your body and suddenly you got self concious. “Are you sure that it won’t be-” You pinned him down onto your bed, stradling his waist. “-troublesome for you?”

Jongho gulped and you brought your face closer. It was too cute not to tease him seeing how he got so flustered he began fumbling with his words.

“It may be troublesome if another man come up to you but I think I can handle him.” He said, his face suddenly turning serious. With as much as little effort he flipped you over, so now the positions were reversed. “Just as I can handle you.”

You held your gazes steadily as he lowered his face, mere inches from your lips. But nothing lasts forever. Especially when you don’t eat properly for a week.

Your stomach grumbled loudly and you blushed at the sound. You were hungry, and he knew it. He laughed and pulled you up, bringing over the plate of food Mina had left him.

“I think that it’s best you eat first. And then we’ll figure something out.” 

You nodded shyly as you ate slowly, enjoying the comfort he gave you with his caring nature.

･*:༅｡

The early morning sun hit the windows of your small room just as the alarm on your phone buzzed underneath your pilow. A soft groan left your lips as you snaked an arm underneath it to turn of the annoying buzz.

“Wake up sleepy head.” The soft whisper reached your ears, making you stir under the covers. “You’ll be late to class.”

“I don’t wanna.” You mumbled out.

Jongho chuckled as he climbed into bed with you, messing up the sheets even more. He peppered your face with kisses as giggles left your mouth and you finally cracked open one eye to look at him. 

“Did you water the plants?” You asked him, noticing how he had some dirt on his cheek.

“Yeah. Mina asked me to model for her for her graduation project just as I was doing it.” He said, wiggling under the covers so he could hug you. “She wants to portray love.”

“Yeah, she told me last night that she was inspired by us while we were planting strawberries on the balcony.” You reached out to kiss him. “I told her I’d do it, but that she should ask you too.”

“Well good because I answered yes.” He smirked kissing you back. “I’m glad you confessed when you did. Because otherwise I couldn’t be apart of something so wholesome.” He smiled wide. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You answered matching his smile. “I’m just glad I listened to that waitress’ advice. Because you really wouldn’t have been a part of something so wholesome!”

[stuffedeggplants]

hullo pls can you tell me about your clone ocs?? any and all of them would be just lovely :D

Lieutenant Six! He’s a supply officer in Coruscant Guard Aviation Support Squadron 66. (They handle logistics and are also an OC squadron! So they don’t have pilots but deal with maintenance, parts, ordnance, etc..) Conveniently he’s CT-60-3102 which also adds up to six- twice. He likes making the kind of jokes that are usually way too obvious for most people to actually make, indulging in clone humor, and has a very optimistic personality. He’s creative with language (and chewing people out lol), but does not excel at lateral thinking and is routinely defeated by bureaucracy and his inability to think outside the box, (but that’s what he has friends for.) Very nice guy, will absolutely go out of his way to help you, but struggles with coming up with creative solutions on his own.

Trooper Eyes-up! He’s on the younger side and also in the Coruscant Guard where he works at the detention center. He got his nickname in very unfortunate and embarrassing circumstances wherein commanders Fox and Thorn caught him doing something he absolutely should not have been doing and told him to bring his “eyes up here, shiny!” So they gave him his name which he’ll never live down. He’s curious, enjoys reading, and is prone to pushing boundaries when he shouldn’t. But he’s also honest and owns up to his screw-ups and is kind of resigned to routinely getting shit for the nonsense he gets himself into, but people love him for it because the fallout is amusing. He was unfairly blamed for bringing granite slugs into one of the barracks (which then proceeded to eat the duracrete walls and cause a problem that only flame troopers could ultimately fix.) He’s good at reading people emotionally but his risk vs reward calibration is a little off. In worlds where Order 66 happens, Eyes-up never participates though the rest of his unit does- this is because his latest screw-up put him on SUFR duty (”sweeping up the fucking rain”), Fox telling him to stay outside in the rain and keep sweeping until it was completely dry. Well the ground was still wet when Order 66 was activated, and Eyes-up’s visceral fear of upsetting the commanding officer of the entire Coruscant Guard overrode his in-built compliance with Order 66, so he stayed and swept up the rain while his brothers went on to worse and darker things. :(

Corporal Corr: the Coruscant Guard Corpsman who ‘mysteriously’ has not managed to promote to sergeant (and likely never will....👀) He works under Thorn in the Diplomatic Service, is a great connoisseur of alcohol, and goes extremely hard for the Coruscant Guard (and nurtures a rivalry with 501st guys whenever they go planet-side for whatever.) He’s very serious about the concept of CG brotherhood and becomes a fixture in Diplomatic Service initiation rites (where shinies are ‘officially’ inducted into the group after their first milestone) to the point where he pretty much leads them. Part of this involves shinies mixing a drop of their blood into red paint, and then their older brothers in the CG mix in their own blood as well. The ex-shinies then use the paint for their armor. Corr has been implicated in brewing his own barracks moonshine which Fox and Thorn let him get away with just long enough to let him finish the process so they could see how good the final product actually was when they confiscated it. Corr also has an agreement with Toast clone, where he trades alcohol for the bread that Toast makes in a crematorium oven that’s non-operational on official records but which is very much operational in a hushed, practical sense. (He also has Toast score the bread surface with the pattern of the CG symbol because he can’t help himself, and has tattoos of the CG armor armbands and legbands actually over his arms and legs. Some might describe Corr as overzealous, but he believes you need passion and strong bonds in life or you have nothing. [This guy is also kind of a joint OC with my friend who runs a Coruscant Guard blog here!]

Are you sick of the Coruscant Guard yet? Well I have 12 more guardsmen alone where this came from and 13 if you count this next guy; I wasn’t kidding when I said I had half a platoon worth of OCs. 

Kov, rank to be determined, pronounced like “cove.” (I might change the spelling to better reflect that.) He’s in one of the Special Tactics Groups of the Coruscant Guard, a unit which I made up to work kind of like a SWAT team. He and his STG are also part of a designated force that can respond extremely quickly to developing situations and get there first to deal with the trouble before anybody else comes in. His STG’s motto is “made to kill, decanted to die” and he has a target tattooed over the side of his face to go with it. (They get shit from non-CG and units that think all they do is give out parking tickets and stand around looking pretty in the Senate building- these guys very much do not do that.) His face is very expressive, and he’s decisive, straightforward, and unfortunately comes off as kind of low on empathy. He wants people to see him as very pragmatic though he’s actually rather idealistic and kind of naive about certain things. He and his best friend are very interested in plants- Kamino didn’t have any, and they’re generally rare on Coruscant. There’s something calming and ‘constant’ about them that he enjoys. He likes taking photos of the ones they find together and looking them up later to learn about nature/biology. Kov learns he really likes children, but is uncertain/a little afraid to let himself interact with them because he’s worried about what sort of influence he’d have on them (and on a deeper level whether he’d learn from them that he’s not actually the person he thinks he is or tries to be.) He and a Twi’lek woman who immigrated from Ryloth sort of fall into a relationship without meaning to, and they both learn a lot from each other and grow as people. (I’m planning on having her take him to a botanical garden that he had no idea existed, and sometime during their visit he realizes he loves her even. He has trouble putting it into words in his mind, but he definitely knows.) 

Okay last one, I’m sorry! :( 

Lieutenant Rakia of the 212th, part of Slick’s direct chain of command. He goes through Geonosis with his best friend and batchmate Arak. When they were cadets on Kamino, and Arak’s helmet saved his life during a training accident but was partially shattered, and Rakia’s random compulsion to bend down and pick up a shard of the helmet inadvertently saved his life too during this incident. Arak and Rakia kept the small plastoid chunk, carved designs over its surface, and exchanged custody of it for years. Before Geonosis Arak gave it to Rakia. Rakia survives but somehow can’t find the chunk where it’s supposed to be in his utility belt, like it just disappeared, and Arak goes missing and is presumed KIA during the battle. On a deep internal level, Rakia has similar realizations to Slick, but because his personality is different he takes that in another direction. He doubles down on a deep trust and faith in the Republic and the Jedi because he’s subconsciously afraid of what it means about his life and purpose if those things are not the things he should believe in. He sees that they’re all cogs in a machine, but his response is that that’s a good thing. He finds something very personally significant about the idea that all those tiny cogs come together to become something much bigger. So his own internal tendencies towards a collective approach and trusting the leadership he was instructed to trust all his life just get kicked up to higher levels after Geonosis in the face of his anxieties.  

In normal speech he’s casual and kind of playful, but when he gets angry he becomes overly explicit/didactic about things and snaps a lot to the point where he can be condescending even without meaning to be. Rakia has an artistic side but doesn’t get to explore it much at first. He’s clean-shaven and lets his curls grow out a bit because he likes how he looks that way, but otherwise looks like everyone else and doesn’t want to visually distinguish himself from his brothers too much besides the slightly longer hair. He wants to be someone others look up to and tries to ignore/deny parts of himself that he doesn’t feel fit that ideal image he wants others to see. Part of that ties into him really struggling with grief but not even allowing himself to contend with it and find closure, stuffing it back down and ignoring it to negative effect. It also ties in to him resisting discovering himself as an individual beyond a certain point/his comfort zone because he’s afraid that will isolate himself from his brothers, but resisting that (and continuing to deny his grief/keep it bottled down) ends up doing that exactly, leading him to feel cut off and alone in certain ways that compound the problem in a bad spiral. (He gets out of it, I promise.) So because Slick is busy developing his own radical ideas and solutions which he can tell no one about (on top of feeling like he’s the only one who’s cottoned on to something nobody else can see,) that’s isolating too, and he and Rakia understand each other a lot better than they think they do in some respects, regardless of their disagreements. 

I know you didn’t ask for a six paragraph essay. Sorry I just really love these guys.😅